Author's Note: Sorry for the long space between postings. I admit I got discouraged and then busy with college starting up once again. Please read, and please review so that I know you're reading! It helps morale which in turn does actually affect my motivation to sit down and turn out a chapter or two as opposed to doing required homework. And trust me, I have no problem being influenced to procrastinate on it!

The Assassin

I awoke. That in and of itself surprised me so that when I took in the dimly burning light casting the room in a bizarre red glow I had an odd sense of calm. My heart beating, that was good. I checked my self over. To my surprise, my weapons and even petty change I kept with me were also there. That was…too much to comprehend. I stood, finding that easy as well, I was unharmed and whatever potion they had used to knock me out had no lingering effects. All these things only made me edgy though.

If they didn't want me dead or mean to harm me (yet) then what did they want from me? A favor? A promise in exchange for my life? I started to recall what had happened. The voice (a woman's?) had said she was a member of the Dark Brotherhood, the brotherhood that dealt with death. Why then, was I clearly not dead?

"You're awake," the voice came from behind me.

By her build he woman with dark hair was obviously a Breton. Despite my dagger at her throat she looked at me as if she were merely entertained by me.

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

"Who's to say I want anything from you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're from the Dark Brotherhood and I'm still alive so either you want something from me or you're the worst assassin I've ever seen," I said. "Or do you always drug and kidnap people as a way of introduction?"

Her face grew stoney for a second but then she laughed, and it loosened again. I waited for her to speak but she did not.

"What happened to Brynjolf? What did you do to him?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes. "The thief is fine though this is rather disappointing."

I pressed the dagger lightly into her throat, not enough to draw blood but enough to get my point across. "What is that supposed to mean? Where is he?"

"I assume he scuttling under his dear Riften at the moment," she said dismissively. "My comment was a remark to you dear girl. I was rather enjoying your company until you grew heroic and noble asking about the thief who dared confront you about that old bitty you murdered but I suppose you are the dragonborn so maybe that is a part of it, yes?"

"It has nothing to do with that. It's just who I am."

"No, you are an assassin, and a very good one from what I hear. Which is why I'd prefer it if you stop pressing your blade into my neck. If I wanted you dead you would be dead already."

I pulled my hand away but kept my dagger drawn.

"How do you know that?"

"Your killed Grelod did you not? Even I was uncertain until that man gave you away that you were the one responsible. You took our job, we were sent there. Imagine my surprise when the woman had mysteriously disappeared. I heard of a stranger in town and followed you until I knew for certain."

"So, what? You go out of your way to congratulate me? Thanks, now may I go?"

"Such a petulant girl! Or spirited, I suppose, a bit like your mother. And yes, you may go if you choose."

"My mother?"

"Yes."

"She's in Cyrodiil, how do you know her? What have you done?"

"That mage is not your mother any more than that dragon you killed in Whiterun."

It took all my willpower to keep my self from collapsing. That question, of my mother, had always been on the peripheral. I had suspected, somewhere inside me that the woman I knew and loved was not related to me. I was in an orphanage after all and she had never mentioned this. It was possible she had put me there temporarily of course, but what were the odds of that? Even if she had, she was still keeping secrets from me. But I had pushed this all away when I had found out, there had been too much else to deal with and this, this I had not wanted to know.

The woman gazed at me with calm, showing no emotion, letting me grasp what she had said. Finally I said:

"For someone who just found out about me you seem to know an awful lot about what I've been doing here, about me."

She grinned. "Clever."

"Why?"

"Obviously I was tracking you. Of course I still have my obligation, my duty as a Dark Brotherhood member as well, it just so happened that the Night Mother led me to you when I had lost new leads."

"Night Mother?"

"You'll find out soon enough. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

I didn't say anything, didn't respond. Clearly this woman had the information I had been desperately looking for but now, on the verge of knowing, I felt…fear. Suddenly I had no interest in finding out, there was no internal turmoil of needing to know sparring with trepidation of the answer. I outright did not want to know. I found myself not only wanting to run from the room and all the way back to Cyrodiil, but wanting to run her through, this Breton who had not even given me her name, to silence what was hopefully the only person who held this private, horrid news. Breton, she was a Breton…

I couldn't speak, the words, if I could even contemplate them, would surely be strangled in my throat.

"I am –"

No.

"your –"

NO. I threw my left fist up swiftly punching her in the face and literally ran from the truth.

A.N. And you thought she was going to join the Dark Brotherhood. Or maybe you didn't. I kind of did until I wrote it. Again, please review to tell me how you like it, or just to say "hi." It's nice to know you're reading.