A CORNERED RAT
The Dragonborn
3 hours earlier
Riften is as lowly and dismantled as it's residents. The Night Mother glides through the throng of people waiting for their chance to buy whatever the hot item is now. She took care of her appearance to be hidden at first glance. Her hair and face were covered by a long crimson cloak. Her dress is black as the night and practical enough for fighting and running. It's never too much. Not too flashy or something to draw the eye.
She underestimated how dirt covered and rag riddled these people are. Some glance at her and stare, others back away. They don't nearly cower, there could be some confusion on who she is since the crown isn't in view. But she is someone important.
"Down below, Cicero." She whispers.
The jester immediately changes course, and she is led down the rickety steps to the entrance of the Ratways. A deep breath brings back all the scents Eve took in that first time. Mildew, rot, sewage, blood. It's just like yesterday. The moment she stepped into those sewers she was doomed for a life changing experience. A chance for a stronger life.
When the door is opened for her those memories come flooding back. How confident she was. The moment the disgusting sewer rats overtook her and prepared her for dinner. Not to be confused with the time the hulking man broke her leg. How painful that was. The Night Mother winces at that thought. She felt it too, she was bound with Eve so well that she felt everything. And Eve never understood that. She never understood that her suffering was the Night Mother's suffering as well.
She supposes Eve will know soon enough. The anticipation is nearly stifling. How will her Child react to her when she sees her again? Not good, not well, she has been brainwashed by the Princes for too long.
A flash of anger crosses her mind. Those conniving cowards. She has respect for Molag Bal, the only Prince to confront her personally. But he backed off before he could feel her true power. Most were all talk and no bite. She smiles at that. Soon, they will be banished and cast back to Oblivion as they should be and won't be meddling with her Children any longer.
"Mother, where is it?" Cicero looks up at her. His amber colored eyes are mad, he's been frantically going over their plans the whole way to Riften. So much so that the Night Mother wished to leave him at home. But he has been anticipating seeing Eve again as much as she has.
"This way. Follow me." The Night Mother clutches her dress and takes over. She only let's Cicero lead to appease his wishes to protect her. However fallible those attempts are. The Ragged Flaggon is straight ahead, she passes the table that Eve almost died on. It still has scars from the electricity that took over her body. A few dagger marks when the buffoons tried to stab her. They would have, if they had moved a little to the left. But the Night Mother saved her. Eve did not know that at the time, as usual, but she should be grateful.
The remaining door is the one that counts. Once through they will either have to fight all of the thieves or will be allowed to slip past. The Night Mother hasn't thought that far ahead, admittedly. She knows all of them are disposable besides Eve.
Cicero pushes the door and in the faint light the Night Mother sees the pathetically small bar is nearly empty aside from a bartender. "Go ask him where this Esbern is." She directs Cicero.
"And kill him?" He squeals gleefully.
The Night Mother glances over the man near the bar in boredom. She could care less if he died but didn't want to make a bigger distraction than necessary. "No, leave him. Maybe pretend to be interested in joining the Thieves Guild. I care little of what you decide Cicero." She sighs, "Whatever is to your heart desires."
"Yes, Mother." The little Imperial stalks his way around the lake and begins his conversation. The Night Mother takes her time, she keeps watch on her surroundings though, a barren room save for the solitary bar and walkways. Very boring.
"They say he's down below." Cicero pants when he comes running back. They are now near one of the doors in the hallway, the Night Mother has decided this is the most likely place for the cowardly man to be hiding. Unless he is in the lake itself.
"He said that he's scrounges around for food and that other crazed beggars live down there." Cicero whispers.
"Nothing to worry about then?" She asks.
"Of course not, Mother! It will be easy pickings!" He exclaims and is the first to race down into the depths of the sewers. The Night Mother grins, it is so like her Children to run into danger without a second thought. All for her.
A scream of frustration echoes in the caverns below. The Night Mother killed five of them, but they keep themselves well hidden. The Thalmor were clever, they knew where she would be going, and they knew it was best to overwhelm her. Little did they know who they're dealing with.
"I told you to leave us alone!" She yells at one of the Thalmor wizards who is trying to duel with her. His spark magic is no match for hers. She sends a blast of power at him that throws him through a nearby wall. "Cicero get the others." She commands.
The loyal jester runs ahead to dispatch whoever is waiting further down. The Night Mother takes her time and searches the dead Thalmor. A few notes are in his pocket, one reveals that they were sent to kill her after her intrusion at the Thalmor embassy, as expected. Another is requesting help from the Imperials to set up a force near her Castle. They wish to invade it soon and let the Hold be released back to their puppet, Elisif.
The notes fry in her hands. Fools. If this continues the Dark Brotherhood will have to be sent against the Imperials. It might give Ulfric the upper hand for once, if he were a smart man, he would side with her. She could let him play King of Skyrim and she can keep the Province under her thumb. As long as the souls are sent to Sithis she cares little of what the living want to do with their time. As long as they are not defying her reign.
Her steps are clipped and hurried now. This used to be a pleasurable experience, running around Skyrim and trying to unravel the "mysteries" of the dragons returning. But it has grown tedious and tiresome. The enemy is taking advantage of her distractions.
The Ratway Vaults is said to become the Ratway Warrens in the south of the underground tunnels. This is where the Night Mother emerges. The bottom of the sewers, in the depths where the smell isn't a nuisance anymore and more of an afterthought, she finds three rooms. One holds a screaming woman going over a list of things she keeps in her hand. Deranged.
The second is a jail cell for a man in a chef outfit. He seems to be a cannibal based on the nonsense he speaks. She could recruit him, but someone that far gone won't be useful for long. The last room is boarded. It must be Esbern's hole. Cicero is now pounding on the door to get in.
"Ah, yes no fat on this one! Come here, tender, juicy morsel!" The chef is practically salivating over Cicero who only turns and throws a knife straight through the man's face.
"Wanting to eat, wanting to taste? Never! Disgusting pig…" Cicero grumbles.
"Go away. Go away. Go away!" Comes a voice from the other closed door. That woman better pray it doesn't open. "Bucket. Knife. Book. Inkpot. Stone…." She continues but the Night Mother tunes her out.
"Cicero move." She steps forwards and allows her power to blow the hinge on the door. It flies open revealing a very fearful man in its wake.
"Hello, Esbern." The Night Mother gives him a soft smile in greeting. But it is all a cheap façade. The man can see her anger and frustration boiling beneath the surface.
"Go away!" He screams, "I'm not Esbern, I don't know who you're talking about!" His face is angered. The Night Mother is stifled by shock. He doesn't know who she is.
"Remember me?" She tries. She scours his face. She knew there were more degenerates down below, but he fits the description, an aged Nord with fine lines and white hair. Blue eyes and a passion for all that is absurd.
"No! I don't know who you are, you girl but leave this instance! This is an intrusion."
"Mother…he is not happy. He is dangerous." Cicero is at her side at once, slowly turning one of his sharp knives.
"Mother will handle this." She purrs and lovingly strokes his hair before turning her attention back to Esbern. "You. You have missed quite a lot here in Skyrim."
"And? That gives you no reason to burst right into my living quarters!"
"Anything a problem?" Another man is outside, another squatter.
"No. Leave." She tells the man. "Esbern, your lovely friend Delphine sent me."
He freezes. "Delphine? How do you…so you've finally found her, and she led you to me. And here I am. Caught like a rat in a trap."
"Of course, you are. What a disgusting place to live. If you forgot, Delphine said to remember the 30th of Frostfall." She takes stock of the room. There is not much, but there is more here than in the others. How desperate must one be to hide here? The Night Mother always kept herself surrounded by those who were loyal. Even in times of danger.
"Indeed. Indeed. I do remember." His face becomes drawn and reserved. "Delphine really is alive, then? You'd better come tell me how you found me and what you want."
The Night Mother suppresses and eye roll. How tedious this is. She sits on the makeshift bed in the corner at Esbern's request. And gives a sharp stare at Cicero. For once, they have all the cards and can strategize how to use them. This man is not yet paralyzed by fear over who she is, and she prefers to keep it that way, for the moment.
"I thought Delphine would have realized it's all hopeless by now. I tried to tell her years ago…"
"And what is hopeless, Esbern?" She sighs.
"Haven't you figured it out yet? What more needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on?"
The Night Mother just stares at him. Waiting. "Alduin has returned. Just like the Prophecy said." He finally spits out.
That foolish dragon again. The one who decided not to side with her. She waves a hand at Esbern to go on. "You don't know?! That Dragon from the dawn of time who devours the souls of the dead!" He yells and begins to flail about the room. This is what happens when someone is in solitary for too long.
Her upper lip curls at that. Yes, another creature to compete with. He is the only other threat besides the Daedric Princes and the divines who could take souls. Esbern goes on, "No one can escape his hunger, here or in the afterlife! Alduin will devour all things and the world will end. Nothing can stop him!"
"Mother can." Cicero climbs up on the bed to sit next to her. Esbern gives him a baffled look, "I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen. Fools It's all come true…all I could do was watch our doom approach…"
"You mean the dragon?" Cicero asks, a dark undercurrent in his tone. If Esbern is talking against the Night Mother, then he is as good as dead in a few moments. But so far, the Night Mother thinks he has no knowledge of the past few months in Skyrim.
"Yes! Yes! You both see. You both know but you refuse to understand!" He throws his hands up in the air. "The literal end of the world! It's all been foretold. The end has begun! Alduin has returned. Ohh…" He moans with the revelation of it all then comically sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.
The silence is tense until she speaks. "Esbern, get up. You're acting a fool."
"We already have one!" Squeals Cicero.
"Why? The only person to stop him is a Dragonborn, and we haven't had a Dragonborn in centuries. It seems the gods have grown tired of us. They've left us to our fate as the plaything of Alduin, the World-Eater." He moans with his head still buried.
The Night Mother rolls her eyes. "Esbern, I am the Dragonborn, you have nothing to fear." She purrs.
His head snaps up, his eyes searching hers. "What? You're…can it really be true? Dragonborn? Then there is hope! The gods have not abandoned us! We must…we must…we must go quickly now. Take me to Delphine. We have much to discuss. But…I need to get a few things." He begins to race around the room, searching his drawers and chests. The Night Mother watches him lazily and strokes her Child's hair.
"Should we tell him?" He whispers to her.
"Let him find out on his own, that way we know who's side he is truly on." She murmurs back.
"Done! Done! I have everything!" He returns with a bag filled to the brim with various items and a new sword at his side.
"Good. Follow me." She smiles and it's only filled with mirth.
They enter the hallway that was formerly filled with those degenerates. The chef is dead, the woman is still talking to herself, and the final man is smart enough to keep his door locked shut. The Night Mother guides Esbern and Cicero. She hears the sound of footsteps up ahead, no doubt it's more Thalmor.
"Dragonborn! I cannot believe my ears still! The Dragonborn here with me! What a surprise for an old, reclusive man." Esbern mumbles to himself.
Cicero tugs on her dress, "No." she tells him immediately. They are not to tell Esbern the truth just yet.
"There!" Sneers a pretentious voice. The Night Mother readies her hands and right around the corner she finds three Thalmor wizards. They scream when her power snakes from her hands to meld with their bodies, turning them to ash.
Esbern gasps. "What power. Dragonborn are you partial to mage magic?"
"Yes." Is all she says. The ash is enough to get on her dress, so she holds it up and out of it. Best to keep up appearances.
"Mage magic…what of the shouts? Have they been easy to learn?"
She sighs, suddenly realizing she is stuck with another incessant companion. "Somewhat." Is what she settles for.
"Good. Good. At least they aren't hard…" He contemplates, then pulls his sword when the next Thalmor rounds the corner.
"You!" He sneers, "How dare you!" She blasts him with power so he's no more than dust on the ground.
"Impressive! Very impressive. So much more than any magic I've ever seen. You must be an expert…"
The Night Mother glances at Cicero to find him talking to himself. As it should be. More Thalmor pour in, nearly yelling things that betray her identity. But the secret is not spilled until Cicero snaps…
Ten Thalmor were overwhelming them. The Night Mother was working on them one by one since Cicero and Esbern had jumped into the fray. The Thalmor scream with each blade plunged into them and each zap of power.
"You! You will never rule Skyrim!" One wastes his dying breath on. She snaps his neck instantly.
The three of them are breathing heavily when the carnage lays around them. "Rule Skyrim? What was he saying? That is not for the Dragonborn…" Esbern gives her a quizzical look.
Patience is durable, it can bend and not break many times. Only until enough pressure is put on it. And unfortunately, sweet Cicero has been recently obsessed with her reign, with the prestige and power over others. Unlike when she was with Eve, she cannot stop his outburst.
"Do you know who you speak to?! Do you know who's presence you're in?" He throws his hands up in the air. "You, good friend and good man are in the presence of the Night Mother!"
Esbern's brow furrows. "What?"
"The Night Mother! Sithis's bride! The Blood Flower, Lady Death… she goes by many names and faces…" His eyes are mad, but he stares at Esbern with such an intensity that he is almost willing the thoughts into his mind.
"The Night Mother? That fable? It's from the Dark Brotherhood isn't it?" He glances back at the Night Mother with fresh eyes.
"Yes." She says, "But it is no myth. I am alive and here now. I am also the Dragonborn."
Silence ticks the seconds by. "But…but… the Dark Brotherhood cannot be the Dragonborn. The Dragonborn is meant to save and serve others, not kill…"
She sighs, "Esbern you would be surprised. Come to think of it you will be surprised with all the changes that have taken place in Skyrim recently. Your ignorance is showing so next time you plan to hole up in the sewers make sure you have some letters sent to you, hm?" She raises a brow.
But the man is unperturbed. "I guess that would be a good idea…" He trails off.
Cicero is seconds from going for his knife, so the Night Mother lays a hand on him. "Let us go."
In an instant the room goes up. Fire blasts so hot and furious against them. The Night Mother tackles Cicero to keep him safe from most of the flames, the jester was already bloodied enough as it was. A scream sounds and she knows it is Esbern.
When she turns to the noise, she finds four Thalmor wizards who were hiding this whole time. "Dragonborn?" One spits, "What kind of monster would call you that, daedra?"
Daedra. That is the one thing they should never call her. She launches across the way and snaps his neck. The other three converge on her but her power is no match for them. They fall to ash before she can tear their throats out with her bare hands.
"Mother, Mother are you okay?" Cicero races to her side. She looks around at the carnage in the room.
"Yes. Get Esbern. We need to leave." The man has fainted on the ground and looked like he took a big hit to the head. Cicero obliges and picks him up.
Frustration is building. She knew this was treacherous, but she was not expecting the Thalmor to come against her so strongly. She had hoped Ulfric was doing his part in keeping them distracted but it sounds as if he's been lacking recently. There was word of re-enforcing the walls around Windhelm to protect themselves. As if it would stop the Dark Brotherhood.
"Come Cicero." She tells her Child. They need to leave now. Too much time has been wasted getting Delphine's pet and she damn near tells Cicero to leave him be. He was only dead weight after all. But if he could give her an edge over Alduin, and a stronger grip on the Holds she has taken, then she will see this through.
They race through the Vaults to the only way out. There used to be other exits through various sewers, but it would take too much time to traverse, and the smell would be…unpleasant to say the least. This way is the quickest.
Cicero barrels ahead on shaking legs with Esbern locked in his embrace. The door creaks open, allowing what little light the Ragged Flaggon had in. The Night Mother lets Cicero go first…she hears their hearts. Many of them. The time is ripe.
A few gasps ring out when Cicero emerges from the shadows. She gazes at each face, many of them wolves and mortals. Her other Child is not among them, but the lover is. Someone useful. When she walks out among her Child the others take in her form and show fear for the first time. She gives a small smile, still disappointed she is not here. Would it be worth it to torture them for her whereabouts? Fight them to get to her? Or assume she is a lost cause and continue on with the others?
Her mind is made up when the door across the lake opens. A woman dressed in black, as she usually was, walks through. Her shoulders are slumped, as if she lost a great battle. Her hair is still kept in braids, although they are more organized than before. Her bright gold eyes search the room with both awareness and ignorance, emotions the Night Mother had begun to know all too well. She doesn't see the Night Mother until she is about to board the makeshift wooden platform.
A small gasp is all she gives. Her eyes begin to fill with blood before a familiar rage begins to boil beneath the surface. The Night Mother smiles. "Hello, Eve."