A/N: I thought I had posted this a while ago – I couldn't understand the lack of reviews until I read the latest one and saw this chapter wasn't up yetXD Brilliant, don't you think? I'm going to love you and leave you with this, my dearest Dark Siblings, in the hopes of a review while our Unholy Matron smiles down upon you.
And last but not least – a lot of Alysa's emotions in this chapter concerning Astrid were based on my own when I got to this point. I hated that you could only 'yes and amen' to Astrid instead of all this. You'll see;) Enjoy!

Chapter 35: Forgiveness Comes at a Price

"Astrid is still alive."

Nazir, Babette, Aventus and Uvelaes gaped at me when I spoke, wrapping the scarf into a small ball and putting it on the ground next to Veezara's makeshift bed. "I need to find her and hear what she has to say for herself." It's because of her we're in this mess.

"Astrid? Still alive? By Sithis, I thought we'd lost her!" Nazir exclaimed. "Let's go find her, then!"

Babette hummed in response. She was less enthusiastic about finding Astrid.

Uvelaes and Aventus stayed behind with Veezara's still-unconscious body, and the other two followed me through the charred, blackened and smoking ruins of our home. I eventually made it to a gaping cavern I finally recognized as Astrid's old chambers, if I used a little imagination.

And there she was, Astrid, the leader of the last Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary still standing.

Burned, blackened, wheezing as she gingerly held onto life. I sneered even before I realized what I was doing, snarling at her. How dare she take away my only chance to show her the kind of pain she had inflicted upon me?! I stepped around the debris, kneeling by her side. Babette hovered in one corner, while Nazir muttered under his breath.

Astrid's bloody eyes found mine, and relief washed through them. I found my snarl turning into a growl, waiting to be freed from my throat. "A-ali-ive… you're al-live…. Thank Sithis." I was about to snap at her when her eyes fluttered closed, then opened again. "Ssshhhh… please. I – so much to say, and not – not much time…."

I looked away from her, trying to quell my desire to heal her just so I could burn her again. But I turned to glare at her again, anyway.

"I'm so sorry – very sorry! The agents, Maro, he said – said they'd leave us alone if we gave you over to him. I – we – were such fools…. All of this, everything – my fault. I nearly killed us all."
"Damn right you did!" I hissed, unable to hold back any longer. Astrid squeezed her eyes shut, from pain or shame I didn't care. Nazir chided me quietly from one side, but he was probably still shocked about Astrid's confession. "This is what you and Seri were up to, isn't it? Even Seri had begged forgiveness before she died!"

A choked, dry sob wracked Astrid's body. "I just wanted things to stay the way they were! Be-before Cicero, the Night Mother…. You, as Listener…. I thought, thought I could save us by doing this but I was wrong!" she gasped, another sob running through her.

I felt angry tears of my own threaten to rise. "I still followed you, still believed in you, Astrid – didn't you see that? I only took things into my own hands when you tried to deny us our right to take our place in this world again!"
"I d-didn't mean it like that, Alysa. I hadn't even st-stopped to think about anyth-thing. But you're still alive! There's a chance to sta-art over, rebuild –"
"Rebuild? Start over? Ha! There is no Keeper, thanks to you, no documents left about anything the Keeper had brought with him, again thanks to you!" I shouted, standing. My heart was clenching painfully, and I was forcing every word out from behind a lump in my throat. "There's nothing left to rebuild with! It's like beginning a whole new Dark Brotherhood, because there's nothing left of this one!"
"Alysa, calm down –"
"No!" I whirled around to Babette. "I won't!" I shoved a finger in Astrid's direction. "She's the reason there's nothing left of anything! And here she lies, as if she is a Black Sacrament –"

"I am the Black Sacrament, I prayed to the Night Mother," Astrid interrupted. I turned back to her, horrified and furious and dying a little more inside.

The words died in my throat when hot tears spilled against my will – how can you defile our ways so, Astrid? What are you turning me into?

"What-what I'm trying to s-say is, the Old Ways have always guided us…. You – Cicero, were right. To prove my… my sincerity…. Take my blade, the Blade of Woe, and l-lead the Fam-mily, as you were meant to."
I glared at the beautiful ebony blade next to her. I knew she wanted me to kill her, both as a means to atone for what she had done, in the hopes it would help us move forwards, and to ease the pain of the burns.

I picked up the blade and gripped it tightly. I stared at Astrid. "I should just walk away and leave you here," I breathed. Nazir's head snapped up to look at me, and I heard Babette draw in a sharp breath. "Maybe then you'll understand what you've done to me."

I stepped closer to Astrid, and knelt next to her body. "But the Night Mother wants me to fulfil this last request of yours."

I drew the Blade of Woe, and drove it into Astrid's heart. She gasped quietly, then relief flooded her burnt face. "Th-hank-k you…."

I stood, angrily brushing away the lingering tears and wiping the blade on my tattered armor.

We stood there, around Astrid's body for a long time before Nazir finally broke the silence. "We should go back to the others."
Babette nodded and followed the Redguard with her head bowed. I fell in behind her, stepping around Astrid's burnt corpse. Aventus and Uvelaes stood quickly when they saw us coming, their faces carefully moving from interested to blank when they saw Astrid wasn't with us. "Astrid is dead. She betrayed us and tried to make a deal with the Oculatus agents. You can see the results for yourself," I said. Uvelaes rubbed his face, trying to hide a scowl. Aventus looked shocked. "What happens now?" the Imperial asked, looking between all of us.
"I suppose we go our separate ways. There's nothing left of the Dark Brotherhood now. Might as well call it quits while we live," Nazir spoke quietly, as if he didn't really want to say it.

You must keep them together, you must speak with Amaund Motierre again, my Listener.

"We stay together," I interrupted the start of an argument about living quarters if we stayed together. "There is a Sanctuary in Dawnstar we will move to. It needs to be refurnished and fixed up rather urgently; it looks like it has been abandoned for several decades. Besides, the Night Mother has told me to speak to Amaund again. The contract is still on, the Emperor is not dead yet."

Uvelaes grinned almost immediately, turning to throw the last few things they had salvaged into canvas bags. "There's a Sanctuary in Dawnstar?" Babette asked. I nodded, refusing to look at her. "I see," she muttered.
"We'll find a way to move the Night Mother, don't worry, Listener," Aventus said shyly.
My lips twitched in reply. "I'll go buy a cart in Falkreath. We're going past Whiterun anyway, so I'll travel with you to there."

I'd walk into the city as I was – I had my daggers, Shadowmere would have my bow and quiver tied to his saddle.

Buying the cart was easy, ignoring the stares of the townsfolk when I walked in with my torn armor, dirty, bloody and bruised was… challenging to say the least. If I hadn't been so exhausted, I would probably have killed at least some. But the energy for that effort was beyond me. Uvelaes managed to summon Lucien after some effort, apparently, and the old Speaker waited with Shadowmere on the outskirts for me. Lucien actually seemed content to ride his old steed when I returned, driving the cart – interestingly, he still referred to the daedric stallion as a 'she'. He, she – Shadowmere was a daedric creature, and one I was grateful for. Without him, I would never have made it back to the Sanctuary in time.

Uvelaes and Aventus loaded the Night Mother and her coffin first, then carefully moved Veezara to the cart.

Then we went back in to bring out our dead, and bury them in the Falkreath Graveyard. Festus Krex, Gabriella, Arnbjorn, Astrid and even Lis (much to everyone's protest) were buried, their names crudely carved into the wooden posts we used as grave markers. I went in one last time, making my way to Cicero's old chambers. They were surprisingly intact – the Night Mother's side had taken much more damage when an underground lake had forced through the stone with all the explosions and heat from the fires. I took a small canvas bag, and packed all of Cicero's daggers and journals in it, pulling the drawstring tight and slinging it over my shoulder when I was done. None of the Keeping Tomes had survived – they were either completely soaked, the pages stuck together and the ink washed out, or burned in the fire.

Outside, Nazir was passing some bags on to Babette, who was standing on the cart and packing everything around Veezara carefully. Uvelaes, Lucien and Aventus were loading the two horses and Shadowmere with saddlebags, a few minor possessions and everything else we managed to salvage from the ruins of our Sanctuary. It really wasn't much, and we ended up taking food supplies from the remaining Penitus Oculatus wagons and turned those horses loose. Night had fallen a while ago, and we would have to make good time to be sure Babette would survive the journey. She had fed on the agents she had killed, but she was still a vampire.

Uvelaes took control of the cart, Nazir sitting next to him and touching his side every time the cart thudded over a particularly uneven part of the road. Aventus rode the white horse close to the carthorse, looking the most awake of us mortals. I rode the palomino, bringing up the rear with Lucien on Shadowmere. The old Speaker and Babette got along the best, even talking about another vampire they had both been acquainted with, called Vicente Valtieri, while the rest of us traveled in silence. We had far to go, so we went as fast as Uvelaes could push the cart – currently, a speedy canter.

I just hoped we would reach Riverwood and Whiterun soon, so I could finish this Emperor business once and for all. For the first time in my life, being an assassin was a tiresome thing. I wanted nothing more than peace to recover from all of this.

There was a Sanctuary under a house, and in a cave under the city, and then there was one next to a city, and another in a forest. It was safe, it was home. This he – we? I? – knew, believed, understood, needed more than a walled, roofed house could give. There was family there, in this new home, a Mother, a Father, Speakers and one Listener and sometimes a Keeper. And finally, he-we-I became the Keeper. What an honor! And then, after so long, there was a Listener, powerful, gifted…. One to stand proud among the other Listeners from before. One the Mother had chosen, waited for, guided.

But there was so much cold, and we-he-I were too tired to move, to make warm…. Would I, he, feel that warmth ever again? Surely, for it isn't as cold as before…. I, he, felt warm, satisfied, if not content. The word 'content' means so little now. Oh, if I see that fair maid Nelly, I'll plunge my knife into her belly…. We always liked that one, but there was another one, someone else liked. Who that someone was, and what it was they liked, he, I, we, cannot remember. Yet, if ever. Ha, such a poet, such a bard.

That was something we, I, told that someone! But surely, with all the tales of fires and fall-ins and betrayals, there was nothing left of that someone, something, anything. What a pity, everything was over. Everything we, he, I had worked for, was gone. There was only one place left for us, me, him, to stay. We would take our time to go there, yes, for there would be nothing there waiting for us. How sad, lonely again.

Forever lost to solitude…. And certainly not the city.