Hi, everyone! Here's Chapter 19!

(Special thanks to Mia78 for the reviews!)


Iris's head pounds. Her body aches as she pushes herself off the splintered wooden floor, her eyes blurring.

"Sleep well?"

She leaps to her feet, ignoring her pounding head. She spins around to find a lone figure lounging atop a bookshelf and watching her intensely. Iris stretches a hand out to the wall to steady herself.

"What—Where am I? Who are you?" Her voice sounds hoarse.

"Does it matter?" the woman's purring voice asks from behind her masked cowl. "You're warm, dry, and still very much alive. That's more than can be said for old Grelod, hmm?"

The blood drains from Iris's face, ice plunging into her heart. "How—How do you know about that?"

The woman laughs. "Darling, half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around. Oh, but don't misunderstand. I'm not criticizing. It was a good kill. Old crone had it coming. And you saved a group of urchins to boot." The woman pauses, watching Iris. "Ah, but there is a slight…problem."

"A–A problem?" Iris shivers in the frigid air.

"You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me and my associates."

The Dark Brotherhood. They found her after all. Iris strains to hide her fear, but knows the assassin can see through her weak facade.

"Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill…that you stole. A kill you must repay."

"Repay?" Iris whispers. "You want me t-to kill someone else?"

"Well, now. Funny you should ask. If you turn around, you'll notice my guests."

Iris turns and find three people with hoods over their heads and their hands bound.

The assassin continues, "I've…collected them from—well, that's not really important. The here and now. That's what matters. You see, there's a contract out on one of them. And that person can't leave this room alive. Oh, but…which one? Go on. See if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make your kill. I just want to observe…and admire."

Iris turns back to the assassin, her face resolute. "No."

The assassin is taken aback at her blatant refusal. She arches an eyebrow. "No?"

"No. I don't want to be a part of this—this madness," Iris spits.

But the assassin laughs threateningly. "You took part in this madness when you slaughtered an old woman in her own orphanage. Perhaps you misunderstand. You don't leave this shack until someone dies."

Iris moves to the door, twisting the knob.

"You'll get the key once someone lies dead."

The Breton leans on the door. "Please."

"All you need to do is take your pick and send the poor fool to the Void. Then, I'll give you the key."

Iris exhales, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the door. "I—I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No." The assassin chuckles. "You don't."

The Nightingale sighs. "Do you at least have a weapon for me? All mine are at my house."

The assassin drops a dagger onto the ground.

Her heart beating furiously, Iris picks up the dagger, clutching it in her ungloved hand. Just do what she says, she tells herself. She walks with bare feet to the three hostages, stopping in front of what looks to be a Nord.

"Hello?" Her voice shakes as she addresses the man.

"Is this about that raid last week? I told Holgrim there was no honor in killing sleeping men, but he wouldn't listen! It wasn't my fault! I swear!" the Nord shrieks.

Iris places a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. I just need to ask you a few questions."

"O–Okay. What do you want to know?"

Iris closes her eyes. "Would…would someone pay to have you killed?"

"What?" the Nord whimpers. "Oh, Gods, I don't want to die!"

"Shh, don't be afraid. You can trust me." Iris hates herself for playing this man.

"I don't know! I mean, I'm a soldier. I've killed people. When I was ordered to. Maybe there were some times…some times I got carried away? But war is war, right? Nobody could blame me for that, could they?"

"I–I don't know." Iris drops her hand, glancing behind her at the ever watchful assassin. She moves to the woman. "Excuse me—"

"Cowards!" the woman bursts out. "Stealing a woman from her own home? For shame!"

"Who—who are you?"

"None of your damned business who I am! If you're going to kill me, just do it already! As Mara is my witness, if I didn't have this hood on right now I'd spit right in your face!"

"I'm sorry, I just need to ask…would someone pay to have you killed?"

The woman starts. "Excuse me? What kind of question is that?"

"Please. Just tell me what I need to know," Iris pleads.

"I'm kneeling here with my hands bound and a sack over my head, and you have the gall to ask me that? What do you think, genius?"

Biting her lip, Iris straightens up, moving to the last hostage.

"Whoever this is, clearly, we got off on the wrong foot," the Khajiit says before Iris can say anything. "Ah, but no worries. This is not the first time I have been bagged and dragged."

"Who are you?"

"Ahh, Vasha, at your service. Obtainer of goods, taker of lives, and defiler of daughters. Have you not heard of me?"

"No," Iris replies softly.

Vasha huffs. "Perhaps I will have my people carve my name into your corpse as a reminder."

Gritting her teeth, Iris asks, "Would someone pay to have you killed?"

"Me?" Vasha laughs. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"Fool! Don't you get it? I live in the shadow of death every day. A knife in every doorway, a nocked arrow on every rooftop! If one of my enemies wouldn't pay to have me killed, I'd take it as a personal insult." He shifts. "Tell you what. You release me, and I promise my associates won't hunt you down like an animal and butcher you in the street. It's a win-win."

Iris backs away, studying the three hostages. Who in Oblivion has the damn contract? It could be any of them. Iris's eyes flit to the locked door, and she feels her pockets for the Skeleton Key. Her heart plummets when she remembers it tucked away in her bag. She has no choice. She has to kill one of them if she wants to get out of this alive.

"Today would be nice," the assassin pipes up.

Iris squeezes her eyes shut, fighting back tears and wishing that Bryn was here. Her knuckles turn white against the dagger's hilt as she comes to a decision. A hard knot appears in her throat as she approaches her victim. She positions the dagger at the base of the throat, her hand shaking.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

Then, she stabs the Khajiit in the throat. She retreats as blood gushes from the wound, a horrible choking sound leaving Vasha's mouth. Iris clamps a hand over her own mouth as she watches the Khajiit bleed out before breathing his last breath. She backs away, dropping the dagger. She storms up to the assassin, tears in her eyes.

"There. I did it," she chokes out.

"Ah, the conniving Khajiit. Cat like that was sure to have enemies. It's no wonder you chose him," the assassin purrs.

"Was it him? Did he have the contract?" Iris asks almost desperately.

The assassin chuckles. "Oh, darling. Don't you get it? I told you to kill, and you obeyed."

Iris stares at the woman, her stomach churning. "No one had a contract?"

"I'm afraid not."

Iris takes a step backwards, feeling sick. But she forces herself to look into the assassin's eyes. "So, is that it? Am I free to go?"

"Of course. And you've repaid your debt, in full. Here's the key to the shack." The woman drops the key onto the ground as Iris's bare feet. "But why stop here? I say we take our relationship to the next level. Somehow, you sensed my presence in your home. You almost managed to defend yourself. In other words, you know how to handle yourself. You notice things that most people don't. So…I would like to officially extend to you an invitation to join my Family. The Dark Brotherhood."

The young Breton shakes her head. "I—I couldn't. I'm not a murderer."

"Yet you've killed two people in cold blood."

Iris opens her mouth soundlessly. She did. She's a murderer now.

The assassin continues. "In the southwest reaches of Skyrim, in the Pine Forest, you'll find the entrance to our Sanctuary. It's just beneath the road, hidden from view. When questioned by the Black Door, answer with the correct passphrase: 'Silence, my brother'. Then you're in. And your new life begins."

"But I'm not sure I—"

"I'll see you at home."

As if in a daze, Iris steps backward, edging toward the door, clutching the key.

"I don't have any shoes," she realizes.

"I'm sure Vasha won't need his anymore."

Her violet eyes flit to the Khajiit's corpse, and she shakes her head. "No. I can't."

The assassin hums. "Have a nice walk then."

Iris shoves the key in the lock, twisting it and pushing the door open. She dashes outside, ignoring the frozen ground before collapsing into a heap behind the shack. She clamps her hand over her mouth, her chest heaving. She can't believe she did that. She killed him just because a Dark Brotherhood assassin told her to. No one had a contract. They were all innocent. A loud sob leaves her lips, as she trembles, riddled with guilt. No one can ever know. No one can ever know about this. If anyone in the Guild found out that she stole a Dark Brotherhood contract and was force to repay it by killing another innocent—

No. This is a secret that will follow her to her grave. Bryn can never find out. If he knew she got tangled up in a Dark Brotherhood affair… No. No one will ever know. No matter what it takes.


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