A/N: Happy New Year! Hope you've all had a wonderful holiday. Well, here's the next one.

SorenDevin – congrats;)

And this chapter is dedicated to all those wonderful guest reviewers out there – I love you guys to bits as well, and I appreciate the time you all take to review! Lotsa love to all of you:D

Chapter 28: There's a Pain that Goes On and On

Cicero had been so cold, so still when I had woken up that morning. I felt numb, as I had been before we met. I laid him down on the cold, hard stone, and left. I didn't notice Lucien walking beside me until I finally ended up outside the Sanctuary in the bright, harsh sunlight. Shadowmere, even, seemed stilled, only blowing gently in my face before standing quietly so I could mount. The ancient Speaker kept up with us on our gallop to the city, where I stopped briefly to check in on Arnbjorn. He would be travelling-fit in another day or two, they said. I found I couldn't quite bring myself to care.

Shadowmere didn't travel back to the Sanctuary as quickly as before, probably sensing that I was hesitant to return. Either way, my journey was quiet, slow. Alone.


Perhaps two days of wandering in the Pale I had the urge to run – flee. Shadowmere was bolting through the thick of some snowy pine forest – Lucien returned to the Void after a pack of wolves took chase – and Shadowmere had just outrun the last of them. We burst into a clearing, and I pulled hard on the reins, throwing myself off his back. I could tell he was furious by the way he snorted and stamped in the snow, but something was weighing on me, and I fell to my knees. I felt… hollow? Empty? Heavy, light? As if I was nothing? I didn't know, but it felt…. There cannot be a word for this, there cannot be something that can describe…. I sat in the snow for hours, finally starting to shiver now and again as the ice melted around me and soaked into the leather.
Shadowmere stayed behind me, almost as if on guard. A stream bubbled nearby – or far away. A breeze rustled the trees, birds flew and chirped.

And I sat in the snow.

Dimly I heard my name being called, a shape slowly coming closer. Oh, Sithis no…. It was Uthgerd, carrying firewood. Suddenly I thought of the Dragonborn, and his lover, and it was as if a wall broke somewhere inside me. Choked sobs quickly turned into gasping wails as the older Nord almost carried me to her camp. The Dragonborn was there, bringing blankets and food and lighting the fire as quickly as he could. I could hear them speak but not what they were saying. I think Uthgerd held me as she might have held her daughter, rocking me as she shushed me, and stroking my hair as I cried – lamented.

When my wails finally turned to sobs, and they finally turned to tired hiccups I heard she was singing an old Nord lullaby. My world went black soon after.


I jolted awake in the early hours of the morning, my eyes still puffy and swollen from crying. Uthgerd lay on a bedroll not far from me, Tar on the other side of the fire, and Shadowmere was watching me as I washed my face in the snow, and quickly wrapping my face in a red scarf I fished out of a saddlebag – my cowl and hood was soaked through from the snow and my tears. I mounted quietly, but obviously not quietly enough. Tawarthion stirred, and Shadowmere sprang into action, spooking their horses and the elf and Nord were awake in seconds. The scarf whipped around me as my steed bolted, the muffled cries of the Altmer and Uthgerd fading fast. I needed to get back to the Sanctuary.

Shouts still sounded behind me, and slowly the dull crunch and thud of pursuing hooves started up. I shot a glance behind me and saw the Dragonborn in pursuit on a creamy-white horse. "Run, Shadowmere! Home!" I breathed, leaning low over his neck. The daedra horse surged forward, grunting and huffing with each stride. Cyrodiil was easier to traverse, he complained, running through thick snow and weaving through the thicket. I stood a little higher in my stirrups to free him for movement, and glanced back at Tar. Duck, Listener!
I responded late, a thin, ice-coated branch slapping me in the face and cutting my cheek. My scarf was ripped free, and I shook my head, a little stunned. My cheek stung, and pushed Shadowmere faster. Soon we were flying across the snow, and Tawarthion probably gave up the pursuit. Snow was falling again, and it wouldn't be long before we would need to take shelter – hopefully I would be so much closer to the Sanctuary than I was now.


We stopped over in Riverwood a week later to buy some supplies for the trip back to the Sanctuary, and I found myself by its Door on the dawn of the fourth day after Riverwood. I had bought too much for the trip, but Festus and Nazir surely wouldn't complain about it – they'd only argue about who would be the master chef and life would go on as usual. The thought struck me a little harder than I had expected it to, and I rested my head against the throbbing black stone. It was warm in the late summer dusk. I breathed deeply, forcing my emotions away, deep into a part of me I had packed away as a child. There was no need for such trivial things anymore – only what I needed for the kill. I straightened, placing my palm on the Door. "Silence, my brother," I said, walking into the Sanctuary, pack and belongings slung over my shoulder. I walked down the winding corridor and stairs, subconsciously sneaking down them to Astrid's chambers. "Well, then, Cuz! I told you we could take care of both of them! And now our other plan doesn't need to take effect…."

I stopped walking. Seri?

"At what cost, Seri? My husband is missing! What's to say he isn't dead? What's to say those two didn't start a whole new Sanctuary ov–"
"Astrid," I greeted, walking in. It wasn't difficult to look disinterested and blank.
Astrid plastered on a tense, twitchy smile. "Alysa, it's good to see you again. You succeeded in killing that… fool, then? And what of my husband?"
"Cicero is dead," I said numbly. "And Arnbjorn should be well on his way here now. He needed to rest for another day when I left, and I wanted to bring you the news as soon as I could."
Astrid's smile turned genuine as relief flooded her and she half-chuckled. "Thank you, Alysa! Go, rest: I'm sure it will do you good."

I lifted my chin, and spared a glare at Seri's poorly hidden smug expression. I just didn't feel like fighting right now. I wandered through the Sanctuary, and finally settled at the alchemy lab, unwilling to go further. Babette stopped crushing something in a mortar. She turned around to look at me, and I met her gaze for a few seconds. Her shoulders slumped a little – I think she knew what I had to say without even bothering to explain. "Alysa! You're back!" Aventus cheered. I turned my head to look at him, dipping my head in greeting to the Imperial and the Dunmer not too far behind. "So… is it true what happened? About Cicero and Veezara?"
"I don't know – what did Astrid tell you?" I said coldly, turning away from the man and mer sitting behind me.
Aventus fell silent, almost definitely looking between Babette and Uvelaes for support. "We were out on contracts when it happened, and I am not sure I believe Astrid's tale of a madman's rampage to kill everyone on a simple and sudden whim," Uvelaes spoke softly, that air of arrogance craftily masking his distaste for Astrid. If I tried hard enough to care, I might have felt pleased and proud about that.
"Well, we'll never know because he's dead," I half-spat bitterly, standing and taking my things to my bed and pack them away. Before I headed up the stairs I dumped the extra food I had on the dining table as I passed a tired-looking Festus hunched over either a cook book or some arcane theorem. He only huffed, and the chair creaked and cracked as he leaned backwards in it. I trudged up the stairs and dumped the last of my things on my bed. I folded my clothes into my chest and took my weapons down to Arnbjorn's forge. I didn't know much, but I knew enough to keep my weapons in decent condition.


I skipped dinner to finish up, spending an hour in the washroom, and when I finally went to bed most of the Sanctuary was turning in. It seemed we all agreed it had been a rough day, for some or another reason. I packed my daggers and my bow into the chest. I sunk into my bed, and just before my eyes closed I realized this was wrong. My eyes flared open.

I flung the covers away from myself, and threw open my chest. The lid thudded dully on the board at the foot of my bed, and I started unpacking my things. My bow, quiver, daggers, rucksack, armor, civilian clothes, gold. I could hear the grumbling complaints of sleepy siblings – especially from Aventus. I scowled to myself – they could have to deal with it. I shoved what I could into the rucksack, and carried what was left.

I was moving into Cicero's chambers, and I would act as the Night Mother's Keeper and her Listener. I hadn't forgiven her yet for allowing this to happen, but then – she was only the mortal matron of the Dark Brotherhood, and Sithis was the divine being. That was how I saw it, despite the rumors that the Night Mother was one of the Daedric Princes. Surely she could have known, could have stopped it…?

I shook my head, trying to clear those thoughts, sneering at them as I stalked into the familiar chambers. I shot the coffin a glance as I passed it, and dropped my things in a heap at the foot of the bed. I went back to my old bed to make sure I had everything that was mine, and closed the chest. I turned to see Uvelaes propped up on an elbow, almost falling off the same bed Aventus was sleeping in. I could almost feel the sympathy in the Dunmer's eyes – good thing I couldn't feel much. I turned and stalked down the passages for the last time, locking myself into Cicero's old chambers and climbed into his bed.

The pillows still smelled like him.