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Aringoth the Altmer was mourning.

He had worked so hard to create Goldenglow Estate. Turning it into the successful and only honey farm in the Rift. He had slaved away and saved money and learned the secrets of the bees. Observed how they build and took care of their little colonies. How they worked tirelessly to fulfill their purposes and to make their hives thrive.
Watching them had always given the elf a sense of calmness. Knowing that, despite of everything happening in the world, there's still something as simple as bees working.

When Aringoth had made the deal with Maven Black-Briar years back, he had finally achieved his dream. The Black-Briars had given him the monopoly in the Rift's honey farming. He was on the top, enjoying only of the best! Now it was all gone, he knew this.
He had betrayed Maven and that hag had sent her hounds. So Aringoth had hired mercenaries, turning the little island of his into a fortress.
Yet he still knew it would be inevitable for Maven to get what she wants. She always does. But what else the Altmer could have done? He had been forced, pressured, enough to break him and make to kill his dream.

Now he was just waiting for the nearing end. Watching his beehives through his bedroom's window, hearing how the hired strangers moved in his house. As an elf he had waited to watch his estate to bloom for many years and years to come...
Heavy thud against the bedroom's doors startled the Altmer. All still he listened as his golden eyes rounded from fear. He heard a key inserted into the lock and turned. A dead mercenary slumped through the opening doors and landed face down onto the floor. A cloaked woman walked in. She threw a scroll into the air and it was disintegrated by blue flames. The Altmer felt magic surrounding them. All the sounds from the outside were blocked and he couldn't hear the mercenaries downstairs anymore.

"Now that we are alone," the woman started, while closing the doors. She pulled down her hood and gave a smile: "Hail Sithis and all, hopefully you had nice couple of days?"
Understanding the situation, the Altmer felt wave of hopelessness. He fell onto his knees and covered his head.
"Worthless mercenaries," he spat bitterly. All the gold he had and it hadn't saved him. Just because some Dark elf bitch had forced him into her schemes!
"I knew," he continued, voice breaking. "I knew... They- They wouldn't let me get away with this. But I had little choice!"
He looked with teary eyes at the Breton who still stood near the doors and the body. There was a small spark of hope as he saw sympathy in her gaze.
"Yeah, life can be shitty like that," she sighed, spreading the front of her cloak and pulling out a dagger. Aringoth's heart dropped.
"But hey," she sadly smiled, offering sliver of comfort: "You'll die when still on top? Had a nice home, money, business. Not struggling financially at least. And fortunately, you don't have family here," she continued, approaching with the weapon.
"I really hate dealing with families while fulfilling a contract. Especially if there's kids," she revealed before stopping in front of the kneeling elf.
"So, anything you wanna say or do before..." she shrugged with the dagger in hand.

Aringoth just stared.

"Come on, something? Cursing me? Last fight? Though I like when people surprise me. This one time, my target wanted to eat a whole table of sweetrolls! He choke to death at ninth," she kept talking: "Oh yeah, where's your keys to the house and the safe? I need to find some papers."
The deed of the state, the assassin must have meant. No doubt Maven wanted Goldenglow Estate for herself. His Goldenglow Estate! The idea of Maven owning his business that he had worked so hard for enraged the Altmer.
"I may as well cut my own throat if doing that!"
The Breton raised her brows.
"Oh? Well if you insist doing it yourself then-"

With an angry shout the mer lunged while pulled his own dagger out. He however staggered and fell, rolling onto his back. He laid there, confused while staring at the assassin holding her now bloody dagger. "Well you tried," she shrugged, crouching next to him. "I'll just give another stab so it ends more quickly."
Aringoth wasn't gonna die all silently though, even if he felt numb and sluggish. He tried grasping onto the woman's neck, choke her, fingers bending but slipping inside of the collar of her armor. Grasping onto something and yanking it as she hit his arm away. It was a leather string which Aringoth held onto, and feeling it being tugged caused the Breton to panic.

"Off!" she screamed in fear. Dropping her dagger she grasped onto his clutched fingers. "Let go!"
She twisted and squeezed so that the elf's wrist and fingers snapped. The Altmer was going to shout, but instead bubbling blood came out of his open mouth. As the elf slowly drowned and suffocated by blood and poison, the assassin fell onto her arse and ripped open her armor's collar.
Cautiously she felt the tied string around her scarred throat, then pulled out rest of the necklace.
Black soul gem appeared, wrapped and hanging by the string.
The woman stared at it, holding it with both palms as if it was a fragile baby bird.

Seeing nothing wrong with the gem, again feeling the necklace and its knot intact around her neck, she secured the jewel back under her armor. Closing the collar with shaky fingers she breathed out, glancing at the trembling elf. Sneering she kicked the dying man. Standing up she picked up her dagger and started stabbing while cursing.
"Damn bastard, die! Just die die DIE!"
She did kill him quicker than the poison, but clearly with more emotion behind the strikes than calm calculation like before.
"Fuck you!" she screamed at the dead. "You piece of crap! I was being nice and you-!"

Wheezing she gave last angry kick before bending from the force of coughing. After the fit ending, the woman took a deep breath to calm herself. Anchoring to her surroundings. It is fine. Nothing bad happened. She is fine. She is here and alive. And the elf was dead, so she just needed to get the papers and burn some beehives. Then she can leave and move forward! It is okay Morgene. You are alive. You are here.

Swallowing and rubbing her throat the Breton nodded. She crouched to look through Aringoth's pockets and found some keys. She looked at the dagger he had pulled out, his hand still gripping onto it. It looked like a nice dagger. Enchanted even?
"Well hello beauty," she cooed, ripping the weapon from the corpse. "You could be a nice gift to someone, yes indeed. Just a bit of cleaning and charging with a gem. Hmm, but Maul didn't seem like a dagger person. And someone could recognize you in the city... Oh, I know."
There was after all many dagger wielders at the guild! Though giving only one person a gift would be rude towards others. Guess she would need to stay a bit longer here to shop. And that's just wonderful! More time with Maul! Everything's coming up Morgene! Now just the papers and then burning some beehives. Even though she didn't want to burn any of them. Those little fellas haven't done anything wrong. Does burning honey even smell good?

"Nice doing business with you, not really, but I'm afraid I need to leave, sir," she hoarsely spoke to the body. Then with a snarl whispered: "May the void of death embrace you, Aringoth."

The rumors spread as fast as people started noticing a smoke pillar outside the city walls.

Maul walked among the folk gathering at the docks. He watched as the smoke rose from Aringoth's island not too far away. The Nord man also noticed guards running at the river shore to go and investigate. It seemed the assassin did it. Though, nothing was sure before the Altmer's death would be confirmed and Maven holding the deed of the island and its production. While people wondered and gossiped, Maul decided not to linger and started to leave. "Hey, what's that?" someone wondered. He turned back around. The steady rise of smoke had been cut off. Now there was rising puffs in a notable pattern. Smoke signal, Maul recognized, reading the message in worry that something had went wrong.
And maybe there was something wrong. Very wrong in that woman's head.

Hail.
Bees.
Glory.
To bees.

"Oh for the Oblivion," the Nord muttered, barely holding his face together while reading this and someone translating the message out loud, leaving them all stumped. Maul kept blinking, rolling tongue against his teeth as he tried to keep down any suspicious emotions and sounds, while leaving the docks.
That stunt. The absurdity of it. Raising the astonished question `why!?ยด.
Trough the gates the Nord made his way, into the fairly empty marketplace, before he couldn't hold it back anymore. The laugh of Maul's started in short huffs and snorts, as he tried to find any logic from the message. But clearly the assassin was just screwing with everyone. Maul's throaty laugh broke out in short spurts, before he slapped hand against his grinning mouth. He slipped into an alleyway, shoulders shaking. He headed towards one of the Ratway's entrances, going to visit the Ragged Flagon.

The thieves down there were already gabbling about the Goldenglow Estate. Maul tried to ignore it for now and asked a bottle of mead from Vekel the Man. With his drink the Nord sat down in a corner table. Dirge joined him, eyeing his brother.
"You okay?"
Maul nodded, sipping his drink.
"That woman, assassin, asked about you."
"What did she ask?"
The blond man scratched his left sideburn with concerned look: "Said wanting to marry you or something."
Maul spit his mouth empty, horrified and wheezing.
"So, you're not gonna get married?" Dirge sincerely questioned.
"Let's say that if she shows me an amulet of Mara or some shit, I'll toss her ass into the canal. With rocks attached to her legs!"
Dirge nodded and then told: "She asked if I sung at funerals."
"Why?"
The Imperial shrugged: "She's odd."
"That's one way to put it."

The Ratway's door flew opened and hit a wall. Loud singing started, carrying over the water pool to the alarmed thieves.
"Aaand the braggart name-" the assassin's singing was stopped by a coughing fit. Thieves stared from the tavern while the Breton coughed and huffed at the door.
"You okay lass?" Brynjolf yelled while standing next to Vekel and Delvin at the bar. The still coughing assassin lift thumbs up, gathering herself before closing the door and walking to the tavern. Sitting down next to Delvin and throbbing a sack onto the floor, she half-collapsed against the counter.
"Drink," she croaked and amused Vekel gave a cup of mead.

"It seems job's done, lass," the redheaded thief glanced at the sack which the assassin had brought. "And you brought some souvenirs?"
Putting down wooden cup Morgene smiled, nodding.
"Yeah. Here," she lifted the bag onto her lap and pulled out a rolled up paper, offering it to the thief. As Brynjolf started looking it through, Morgene turned her attention to Delvin Mallory.
"And Delvin," her voice whispered, throat prickling from all the talking, as also yelling and some singing, through the day.

Next came out of the sack a golden colored dagger, as also a golden bee statue, both items placed onto the counter.
"What tells you?"
"Well well, what beauties," Delvin admired, taking the dagger first, turning it on his hands. "Dwarven dagger one. Nice condition, hardly used. Enchanted too, I would guess with health absorbing one."
The Breton man put the weapon down, taking the statue next.
"And this, I've been looking for this one. Aringoth had this made when he got into business with Maven. The Queen Bee, pure solid gold."
He put the statue down, asking from the drinking assassin: "Want to sell these to me? I could give you a nice price."
Morgene shook her head: "Nah. Gifts. But thanks."
After paying for couple of mead bottles, she put the things back into the sack. Then the assassin took her things and made her way to Maul and Dirge's table. The Nord man leaned back and scowled at the sitting woman.

"Dirge. Maul," she greeted them.
"Assassin," Maul mumbled while his brother nodded, before the Nord man commented: "The whole city was watchin' your handiwork from the docks."
"Ah, didn't you hear," the woman wondered, grinning despite of how bad her voice sounded. "It was the bees who did it."
Maul, blank faced, stared at the woman drinking one of her bottles. A corner of his tugged before he took a sip from his drink.
Dirge frowned: "Bees can't set things on fire."
The woman shrugged: "We live in a world of giant spiders, monsters and flying lizards. Yet bees railing against their oppression to be forced into labor is hard to believe?"

Dirge pondered hard before agreeing: "Guess it's not that weird then."
Maul slammed his bottle onto the table: "What was that message in the smoke about?"
She grinned, tugging strands of hair behind her ears. Maul observed. At first you could see the reddish hair and the kind smile she kept offering. With her hood down and sitting opposite of him, the Nord noted some odd things. She was a very pale one, even her lips being bit bluish. Her eyes were lively, yet there was something chilling when she would look at you. Sending breath stealing, uncomfortable shiver down your spine.
Maybe she was sick, as how she kept coughing and speaking in hoarse, wheezing way. Hopefully it wasn't anything contagious.
"Thought the bees earned some good memento, as I set them and their hives on fire," was the Breton's stupid explanation.
"You could have been caught with that kind of foolery."

She leaned against the table towards sullen Maul. "Worried about me?"
"Only about the contract. You have the deed of the state?"
Pouting Morgene sat back down and took another rolled up paper out of her sack.
Dirge stood up: "Gotta go. Shadows hide you brother."
"You too."
The Breton woman looked between them: "You two siblings?"
"Yeah?"
A Nord and an Imperial. Like a crow and a dove. "I did thought earlier, that he reminds me of you."
"You gave him a bloody nose too?" Maul questioned sharply and Morgene shook her head: "No, he's nice, real chipper. And you two have interesting names. Maul and Dirge..."

"Oh yeah, what's your name then? Bloody Mary? Giggling Gwen?"
The Breton didn't flinch from his bark, just kept grinning at him.
"Just Morgene. Though friends sometimes call me Moira."
The Nord huffed, securing the deed into one of his pockets. The name had as ominous sound as the woman's aura. They sat in silence for a moment, Maul nursing his drink and avoiding from looking at the assassin who was finishing her drink. She started another bottle, glancing at the Nord, her fingers fidgeting against her drink.
"Play a game?"
Barely hearing the quiet question, the Nord turned his gaze with a frown.
"What?"
"Cards," she pulled out a worn deck of playing cards: "How about bullshit?"

Maul thought about it. Her interest towards him was unnerving, her being member of Dark Brotherhood and she just being odd in general. Couldn't tell what she would get in her head, if he would even accidentally encourage the interest of hers. As he was going to decline, the Breton placed the bee statue onto the table.
"We can play about this?"

Maul's senses were tingling when seeing that chunk of molded gold. He could sell it for a nice price, it being pure gold and all. Or he could give it to Maven, she would forgive the morning's shenanigans to him. Though Morgene was the one behind all of it.
"Scared?" the Breton teased, hugging the statue with one hand and holding up the deck. The man huffed.
"Fine. However, we won't play with your cards. I ain't a fool," the hound grinned confidentially, rising his hand to call the bartender. "Vekel, bring a deck of cards and more mead!"

The fox snickered, pleased while putting away her deck: "Never thought you are..."