Guide:

Dwemeris

Thoughts

"Speech"

"Dovahzul"

Warnings/Disclaimer: see chapter 4

Chapter Warning(s): Mentions of murder, Dark Brotherhood, jealousy

Last time…

Needless to say, sleep does not come easy that night. Or any of the following nights spend on the road between Markarth and Falkreath.

Chapter 34 – Silence, my Brother

Siddgeir greets me jovially, all but shoves a disgruntled Redguard woman at me, snags my drink out of my hand and leaves Dead Man's Drink with a swagger in his step.

For several moments, everyone stands frozen, because the jarl just walked into the bar just to tell me he forgot that he had assigned me a Housecarl, but as I hadn't bought the land he told me was available at my first opportunity to do so, she'd either be staying at the longhouse or with me.

I blink at the woman for a little longer, even as Marcurio sits doubled over with laughter and Erandur's grin nearly splits his face in half.

"It seems you picked up yet another tagalong." The Dunmer sniggers, nodding at the woman, who eyes his ale dispassionately.

"I thought priests were all about celibacy?" She asks, puzzled as she observes my companions critically.

My friend raises his eyebrow at her. "Not all of them."

Then, she turns to me. "I am glad to finally meet you, my Thane." Her voice is strong, unwavering, and yet… I take in her appearance cautiously – basic Steel armour, sans helmet. Two scimitars, which I've learned are somewhat of a Redguard specialty, and a… ring. A well-crafted, silver ring. Something is off about it.

Something is off about her.

"It's… Nice to meet you, too. But please, call me Fjaldi. And you would be..?"

"Rayya. The jarl has appointed me as your Housecarl. I am sworn to your service, and I will protect you with my life." Crossing my arms, I lean back in my chair. "Alright, why don't you sit and eat with us? These are Marcurio and Erandur, my current travel companions. But first, why don't you give me some more details of what a Housecarl is?"

Jarl Balgruuf mentioned I had a Housecarl in Whiterun as well, didn't he? Oh, right. Lydia. She showed up a bit late. She was a little… too much. Though Jarl Ingrod never said anything about giving me a – a personal servant? A Protector?

Listening to her explanation, I further observe this strange new phenomena in my already complicated life. "I see. This must have been sprung on you quite suddenly. I will apologise in advance, since I have no experiences with having a Housecarl. Also, you will need to be informed of several things of importance, should you choose to travel with me..?"

"If you lead the way, I will follow, my Thane."

I see there's no getting rid of the title for now. Perhaps once she warms up to me a little, it will go better.

"Good. Now, first things first…" I tell her about my duty as Dragonborn, about my heritage, and that growing old in my service is close to an impossibility due to the amounts of trouble I find myself in on a regular basis. But the woman does not budge.

– She is strong. In body and mind. Like the stone I wished more houses here were made of. Even though I repeatedly mention deadly peril, she still insists on being my sword and my shield, as is her duty.

Something about her still makes my skin crawl. But I just can't put my finger on it…

"If the Nords are to be believed, you will one day save all of Skyrim, as is your duty. Let me fulfil my own, to lighten your burdens." Rayya concludes, not having noticed my drifting thoughts, and I have to admire her guts – on par with Marcurio's, the day he first faced a dragon.

A small grin grows on my face, and I conveniently ignore Marcurio making eyes at one of the younger women at the bar. "Very well."

…

I hate to admit it, but…

My mind can barely find rest this evening, and I step outside for a walk along the graveyard to get back to myself and not explode in anger and frustration and jealousy that roars within my veins.

How dare he? How dare he?

But thinking about what I saw, what I heard, isn't helping me any, and so I remain seething quietly as I make my way along the dirt path, seeing the temple of Arkay just ahead.

Rayya left to go to sleep, and Erandur is inside the temple, to 'talk to another priest for once', or so he said. And Marcurio… Stop right there. Don't think about it. If he wants to marry that – that skank, it's not my problem. Shouldn't be my problem.

Grinding my teeth, I barely notice the shadows shifting at my side. Before they can get close, I've already drawn my axe, noting that the area is deserted. "A graveyard. Such a… symbolic meeting place, for ones like us." A sly, lilting female voice speaks from right behind me.

I see nothing, aside from tremors in the air, hardly visible in the night. "An invisibility potion, really?" Are the words to fall from my lips in a condescending drawl, before I lift the axe to where I guess either her throat or chin would be, judging from where the tremors are.

Marcurio and I spent good money on procuring some for ourselves, back when we went to get that old sword for Windhelm's blacksmith. I'm lucky I know how it works... What gives its effects away.

"Are you… threatening me?" The unknown asks, sounding not only wary, but also warning… and a bit incredulous.

So, the lady isn't used to being held at axe point.

"I find it unpleasant, not being able to see who I'm talking to."

I cannot read your expressions, nor your body language. And I want to see who, exactly, I'm dealing with. If it's what I fear it is…

"Did our mutual buddy I met in Raldbthar set you up to this, or did you hear and come to figure me out for yourself?"

As I say it, the effect of the potion wanes, and the woman, entirely dressed in red-and-black armour save for a thin strip leaving her eyes, flickers into view. I lower my axe slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax, though my every muscle coils with the intent to either strike, or flee form her presence.

Not that I could run very far.

"Veezara mentioned a cousin. I was wondering what he meant, but… You're like us, aren't you? Serving the greatness of the Dread Father, taking life in his name. Making yourself into your target's judge, jury… and executioner."

I try to be honest with myself and those around me. But aye, maybe I am. "You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you?" I deadpan, before letting my lips curl up in a sharp smirk. "But aye, you could argue that. Hail Sithis."

I do hope Veezara put in a good word for me, or I'll be in serious trouble.

He got Tova to kill herself, but that wasn't his job, right? Right. I am the last who can judge. And Tova made her own choice, in the end. I'm still a bit uneasy about it though.

But in Skyrim, doing what I do, one must take a more… pragmatic approach to death.

To my relief, she returns my smirk, and I can breathe a little easier again.

"Precisely. Normally, I would make you undergo a test before allowing you entry into our home. But not only was my little brother quite… enamoured with how you dealt with the contract's lackeys and allowed him to have his kill, you spotted me instantly… And your attempt at reprimanding me for bad manners was… amusing. We are alone now. I'm sure your friends can miss you for a few hours."

She's already walking, flitting in and out of sight quickly. "Come with me, cousin. Let's see how you deal with the rest of the family."

Well… This is an invitation I cannot turn down, if I've ever heard one.

Cautiously, I follow her through the trees, which she traverses with the ease of one who's walked amongst them for years. My own footfalls, so used to stone and earth, sound clumsy compared to her, as tree roots and rabbit holes impede me in my path, the night not making the journey any easier despite my experience of moving through darkened ruins.

My steps sound loudly in my ears. To any other person, however, we are barely shadows flitting across the grass.

The odd thumping is back – the same I'd heard when I walked on the roads with Jenassa. Like a hollow heartbeat, reverberating in my bones. It gets louder and louder as we take the lower path, and the unknown woman reveals to me an ancient looking door, a skull and a corpse prominently featured in its design. I draw in a sharp breath upon seeing the visible, dull red glow – those are highly advanced enchantments.

The woman looks over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming darkly in the red light. "I trust you to keep your mouth shut about this. If you babble, it will be the last mistake you'll ever make. Oh, how rude of me. I did not even introduce myself to you, did I? I am Astrid, leader of the Dark Brotherhood. And you… Are our esteemed guest. For now."

"What is the music of life?"

I am in deep shit.

"Silence, my brother."

Really deep shit. I think I might drown in it.

"Welcome home."

Well then. Other than the end of the world, what do I have to lose?

The door creaks open, and I see nothing but the blackest of darkness beyond – pretty much as I'd been expecting from a group of assassins, to be fair. Astrid steps into it without hesitation, and after a second of stumbling over a mental block inside of me screaming not to – I follow.

…

Alright, so the inside of this place is a lot more… comfortable-looking than I'd been expecting. I like the natural lake and the lighting, at least.

Taking note of anything important in the immediate area as I'm led down past what looks like a small office with a map of Skyrim on the table, covered in daggers, and to a large, open cavern with a stained glass window of Sithis looking down on it.

My eye strays to the side, where I hear a familiar chanting. A word wall. What in Xrib's forges is a WORD WALL doing in here? But before I can get too distracted by the idea Veezara shows up at the top of the stairs. The other man that was near the forges is also approaching, even as Astrid languidly crosses her arms, staring me down.

I tilt my head and set a hand on my side, close enough to my axe to grab it in a second as I mentally go through all the Shouts I know of. I have the first word of Frost Breath at my disposal, one word of Fire Breath, and if I must I'll just straight up use Whirlwind Sprint or Slow Time to get out of here faster.

I briefly imagine setting the Dark Brotherhood members on fire, even as my eyes scan the newcomers. A Redguard man who looks bored, a Dunmer woman and a… child?

No, those eyes, she isn't a child.

Un-child, then. Vampire. A grumpy old man in red-and-black mage robes also stalks down the stairs, staring down at me impatiently.

"Who is this lost child, Astrid?" My eye twitches, but I remain silent as I focus on Astrid and Veezara, who seems more than happy to see me. When the blonde – so that's her hair colour… Wait when'd she take off that hood? – remains silent the Argonian grins and claps me on the shoulder. I stiffen at the contact, but let him.

"This is Fjaldi, the one I've been telling you about." Now, there's a spark of interest in the mage's eyes. "Oh? I've heard you made quite good use of the Dwemer machinery back there. Creative, but of course, I could've done better."

I take in the mildly condescending look, the pride in his craft, and the idea that he knows exactly how to best deal with idiots via sarcasm – "You and Marcurio would get along like a city on fire." I observe under my breath, mildly disturbed by the thought of the pure, undiluted CHAOS that would reign were those two to ever meet on the same side of a battlefield, however unlikely that was.

Veezara tugs at my sleeve. "So what have you been up to lately? Gotten into more trouble after Raldbthar, it seems." I let out a chuckle.

"Well, when I think about it – there seems to be an unhealthy amount of… Every opponent I can think of in the last few months. The weekly dragon attacks are seriously starting to become the least of my problems with everything else that's been going on. But I'll not bore you with my issues. How have you been?"

"Rather good, considering the… circumstances."

He glances at Astrid, who shrugs as if to say: he's in our house, might as well go all the way. "Cicero has been insufferable lately." I raise an eyebrow. "Who or what is a 'Cicero'?" and why can you not kill it? You're trained assassins, aren't you?

The confused disdain in my voice must be apparent, since the man who was at the forge and reeks strongly of blood and steel laughs. "I might actually like this guy. Is he a new initiate?"

Something is off about him. Similar to Rayya… Too similar.

Intense blue eyes suddenly train themselves on me, and I stiffen and straighten my spine as Astrid suddenly gains a more predatory gait.

She slowly moves towards me, and from the corners of my eye, I can see the other Brotherhood members backing off subtly to observe from a more respectful distance.

"We'll see about that now, won't we? After all, in a line of work like ours, one must be… picky."

She says as she shifts her weight onto her other foot, circling around me like a sabercat circles prey. I start breathing deeper, filling my lungs with air even as I stand seemingly frozen on the spot, allowing the woman to get up behind me. I can hear the weapon being drawn before she lunges.

"FEIM!"

Almost feeling her confusion at not meeting any resistance when she thrusts the dagger through my neck, I twirl on my heel swiftly, ducking low and drawing my dagger as I go.

Is this supposed to be an INITIATION?

Grimacing, I realise that means I cannot kill her – not if I don't want to be up to my neck in deadly assassins.

The second I can feel the Shout wear off I sweep my leg out in a wide arch, similar to how J'zargo always got opponents who got too close to stumble before he Firebolt-ed them in the face. Astrid, not a professional assassin for nothing, jumps over it and lashes out with her own kick, one I can barely dodge – it's far faster than what I'm used to.

What follows is a confusing mess of dodging and blocking, since she's not giving me and striking opportunities with those daggers of hers. My axes are too slow in comparison, I don't even bother drawing them, and my own Dwemer dagger is heavier than hers.

But I am already feeling my voice recover for another Shout – "TIID!" When the world fades to a dull blue around me I manage to somehow duck around and behind her, grabbing the wrist of her left hand and bringing it with me, where I follow up with pouncing on her like an animal would, working her to the ground with the full force of my weight and momentum before Time turns to normal again and I'm holding the struggling blonde to the ground, her own dagger poking in her back dangerously.

"Give." I growl, the wildness of using Dragon Shouts still lingering in my normal voice when she suddenly stops struggling.

"Give."

She agrees, but her voice is soaked in icy anger, and I jump off her so fast one might think she was on fire. Which I totally could have done. Set her on fire, I mean.

"What was that?" the Redguard asks incredulously. I blink at him. To speak or not to speak… Well, what they don't know they will find out sooner or later, and I can't keep a secret this big from them.

"The Thu'um. I am the Dragonborn, after all."

He chuckles. "Why am I not surprised? Are you even aware that the Thalmor are after you?" I tilt my head curiously, inwardly growing cold.

Ondolemar didn't… say anything? How do I know I can trust this information? It's a good thing I do not normally advertise my status – I learned from that political disaster in Windhelm.

"I was not. Thank you for the heads up."

I pull out a piece of paper and promptly sit down on the floor, muttering curses under my breath in Dwemeris. "What are you doing now? I'm Babette, by the way." the small un-child giggles, trying to peer over my shoulders. She's cold… and I know this smell.

"I am making a list of who I still have to teach a little lesson. It's getting too extensive to remain in my head. I might just leave someone out and hurt their feelings." I drawl sarcastically, finishing Elenwen 's name with a flourish.

It'll be like my own personal shit list. If I have to keep track of all the annoying people that keep getting in my way, I might as well write them up properly. And these people aren't going to kill me any time soon, I guess. Or they would have already.

Babette – so that's her name - snorts and stands up properly again. "I see why you like him." She informs Veezara, who twitches and stiffens, but doesn't reply. Does he not like vampires?

Astrid plucks the list from my hands from behind me. "I don't recognise any of the symbols. Is this some sort of code?" Her cold anger has given way to calculation, and she eyes me warily. Slowly, I find myself starting to relax, even enjoying this, a bit.

"It's Dwemeris. A pity the Thalmor are planning to murder me. I could teach them a thing or two about weapons of mass destruction. I'm an expert on the subject, one could say."

So could Ancano, but he's dead. I wonder how Onmund and J'zargo are doing, or if my current companions are already missing me.

"So you're a Dwemer, then?" the Dunmer woman asks, the first words I've heard her speak. I give her my most winning grin.

"Aye. You'd think the people here would be more accepting of that little fact, seeing that I'm apparently not the only race that came back to Skyrim lately."

The dragons take most of the attention away from me, luckily. She lets out a huff. "Well, Astrid, are you going to introduce us all or do we need to take care of the newbie?"

I splutter. "Newbie? I can't take, what is it, contracts! I already have an insane amount of work ahead of me…"

Such as getting involved in this Civil war, getting away from Marcurio, figure out how Onmund is doing, find out what Vulthuryol wants, find more Words of Power, defeat Alduin… somehow, and get those Greybeards pacified with the Horn after I visit the Sleeping Giant.

Perhaps the panic on my face looks comical, or perhaps it's my indignation at being called newbie, but I can just see the stifled sniggers and chuckles from where I'm seated on the floor.

Rolling my eyes dramatically, I allow a small smile. "So… How do you guys work around here? Any rules I should be aware of? What happens now?"

In for a Soul gem, in for an Animunculi. As mother would say.

No turning back now, I guess, so I'll have to at least try to get along with these people. We do, after all, worship the same god.

A/N: I am back! Not completely sure about this chapter… But if my amateur mage can take down Astrid plus the whole Brotherhood then Fjaldi, with more training under his belt, can definitely take on an assassin. Tell me what you think – I'd love to hear it!