I'm back!

I managed to overcome my awful writer's block to get this chapter written. I'm also working on some others, so keep an eye out! I really want to get this story going again. I have a really cool plot line planned out, and I think you guys will really like it. So, I'm going to try to get this story back up and running, despite my writer's block!

I really appreciate everyone's patience and understanding :) You're the best readers ever, and I'm so thankful for you all.

Now, here's the long awaited Chapter 36!


Kicking off his boots with a sigh, Brynjolf sinks into his bed, pulling the blankets over his head to muffle the sound of trickling water. In the distance, he hears Niruin and Rune muttering to each other from across the cistern. He rolls over, letting out another sigh, and tries to keep his mind blank. It doesn't work, of course. His mind whirls with thoughts of the Guild, the Nightingales, and if Iris really returned the Skeleton Key. His sleeplessness isn't helped by Niruin and Rune's mumbled conversation either.

"Hold a moment, Rune. What did you think about my idea?" Niruin's whispered voice floats to Brynjolf's ears.

Rune lets out a breathy scoff. "Your idea to start a brothel, right? Do you want me to tell you exactly what I think?"

The two thieves seem to be walking around the cistern, passing Brynjolf's bed.

"Well, yes! Please!" Niruin urges the other thief.

"I think if Brynjolf catches wind of it, he'll boot you right out of here! So, drop it already!" Rune hisses.

Brynjolf manages to suppress a laugh from under his blankets until the two wander into the Flagon. He turns to his other side, squeezing his eyes shut. He wonders where Iris is right now, and why she's been gone for so long. And why she still hasn't stopped by to visit, he adds bitterly.

Brynjolf lies there for hours, tossing and turning, unable to get a wink of sleep. Frustrated, he finally gives up, whipping the blankets off of him and stalking to the ladder.

Moments later, he stands in Nightingale Hall, making his way to the bedroom. He lets out a comfortable sigh upon lying on the soft bed.

"This is much better," he mutters, happy to hear nothing but silence. He lets his eyes fall closed and sinks a little further into his pillow.


"Brynjolf."

Brynjolf's eyes shoot open in alarm, leaping to his feet. "Who's there?" Astounded, he finds a violet light hovering in the doorway. Before he can approach it, it moves, zooming through the doorway with Brynjolf chasing after it. He follows the light to the cavern in which they spoke to Nocturnal the first time. The light hovers in the center platform, a tendril of violet reaching toward his chest. As soon as the light touches his chest, he gasps, his vision blinded.

"A traitor lurks in our midst," a disembodied voice hisses, piercing his ears. "She will destroy us all."

A burst of light shines behind his eyes, a light object forced into his hand. He raises his hand to his burning eyes, finding his fingers curled around the Skeleton Key. The Key glows red-hot, burning and blistering his hand before crumbling to dust. The light becomes unbearable, his eyes watering with pain. He lashes out, desperately trying to free his eyes when a booming voice fills his mind.

"Find her!"


With a gasp, Brynjolf shoots up in bed, his chest heaving.

"Just a dream," he tries to assure himself. His body is drenched in a cold sweat, his hand sore. "Just a dream." But when he raises his sore hand to his eyes, he finds a line of blisters eating away at his flesh. Another gasp leaves his mouth as he clutches his wrist. "By the Nine…" Shaking his head, he leaps out of bed and stuffs his feet into his boots. He needs to find Karliah.

Now.


"Poison stew, eh? I've always been partial to apples myself."

"Shh!" Iris hushes the loud-mouthed ghost as she adjusts the chef's hat over her hair. "You're going to give me away."

Lucien laughs darkly. "You're going to give yourself away, Listener," he says, looking her up and down. "Do you really think adding a chef's hat to your Dark Brotherhood attire will convince them that you're the Gourmet?"

She lets out a huff, looking down at herself. "I'm going to change my clothes, Lucien. I'm not that stupid."

He peers out over the docks, spotting the body of the real Gourmet sinking beneath the murky water. "If you say so."

"I do say so. I just wanted to see if the hat fits." She gives up on the chef's hat and stuffs it into her bag. "Come on. We need to get to Solitude."

The pair hit the road again, traveling toward Solitude.

They arrive three days later, and Iris pays for a room at the Winking Skeever and starts planning.

"Okay, so I have the Writ of Passage and the chef's hat and the poison. Getting in will be easy. But—"

"But getting out is the difficult part," Lucien finishes for her.

"Just like the wedding." Iris frowns, tapping her chin with her index finger. "What door is nearest to the dining room?" She looks to the phantom for an answer, but he only shrugs.

"What makes you think I know?"

Sighing, she rolls her eyes before climbing off her bed. "I guess we better do some scouting then."


The two spend a good hour scouting the palace and trying to figure out the best way out. Iris decides on the bridge which directly connects to the dining room and leads to outside the town. It's perfect.

"That looks like the door Astrid told me about, too," she says to the ghost.

"She told you which door to escape from?"

Iris nods, rummaging around in her bag as they head back to the Winking Skeever.

"Then, tell me, Listener, why did we just spend an hour scouting out all the possible exits?"

She stops when she notices Lucien has stopped walking alongside her. She turns around, rolling her eyes. "I wanted to make sure it really was the best way."

"Hm, first you went against your leader's wishes and kept Cicero alive, and now, you're doubting her expertise?"

She hates the sly smile he has on his face. "I just wanted to find out for myself. That's all."

He hums thoughtfully from behind her, and she continues on her way.

She collapses onto the bed when she finally gets back to the inn, her chest tight as she remembers the last time she spent time at the Winking Skeever. She was with Bryn. The night of the whole drinking contest fiasco. A smile finds its way to her lips as she remembers Bryn stumbling out of the room when she finally came back with the staff. He looked absolutely hungover. She giggles at the memory. They had spent the rest of the day trying to recover from their nasty hangovers. She can't remember how many times Bryn had to run to the washroom to vomit.

But now, she gazes around the empty room, her heart clenched. She hears the happy voices of travelers out in the hall, talking with one another, having a good time together. It makes her miss Bryn even more. It amplifies her guilt. Tears rush to her eyes as she pulls the thick blankets over her head, glad that she sent Lucien away. At this point, it's easier to stay away from Bryn. It's too hard to face him just yet. She'll work on mustering up the courage in the meantime, but, honestly, she's not in any rush.


"Stop right there," Commander Maro halts Iris's trek to the tower. "The tower is off limits until further notice."

Iris adjusts the chef's hat perched precariously on her brown hair before showing the Commander the Writ of Passage. Her stomach rolls with hatred as she remembers the last time she saw the commander. She was about to be executed.

Suddenly, a flash of lifeless blue eyes overtakes her mind, and the hatred is replaced with guilt. She killed his only son.

"Let me see that," Maro says, snatching the note from her hands. "Order of his eminence…possessor of these papers…the Gourmet—" His blue gaze snaps up from the paper to view Iris. "The Gourmet?! I'm so sorry! Your clothes…of course…I should've realized." He hands the note back to her. "Please, excuse my ignorance. Gianna, the castle chef, is waiting for you inside."

He steps aside.

"Thank you," Iris tells him as she brushes past him and enters the tower.

Lucien appears at her command, invisible to everyone but her. "So far, so good," he purrs.

Iris only gulps in reply, hating that Astrid chose her to do this. She dusts off the skirt of her dress in nervousness, another bout of sadness hitting her as she remembers the last time she wore this purple dress. Bryn had told her it complimented her eyes.

"Listener, you appear distracted," Lucien cuts through her thoughts.

"I'm fine," she replies, ridding her head of the memories.

The two enter the kitchen and approach a dark-haired Imperial woman, Gianna.

"Not another delivery!" the woman's shrill voice shrieks. "I told you people, our stocks are fine. Now, put whatever you have over there, and get out!"

Iris arches an eyebrow, ready to play the role of her life. "Excuse me?" She places a hand on her chest for emphasis. "I am the Gourmet!"

Gianna's eyes almost pop out of her skull. "The Gourmet? Oh! Finally." The woman stirs the stew pot separating them. "When I heard the Gourmet was being brought in to cook for the Emperor, I could hardly believe it! It's just…" She trails off, scanning Iris.

"Yes?"

"You're a woman!"

"Astute observation," Lucien mutters.

"So, are you?" Iris replies, annoyed.

"I just…I always assumed the Gourmet was a man. How did you manage to get to where you are now?" Gianna asks.

"It's a long story." She sighs. "Just keep…doing what you're doing, and you might be like me someday."

"How inspirational," Lucien says, peering into the stew pot.

"Let's just cook, shall we?"

Gianna nods eagerly. "The Emperor requested your signature dish, the Potage le Magnifique. I've taken the liberty of getting it started." She gestures to the stew pot. "But the cookbook only says so much, and everyone makes the Potage differently. I would be honored if we could make it the Gourmet's special way."

Lucien lets out a low chuckle. "Ah, yes, the Gourmet's way is quite special."

Ignoring the ghost, Iris nods and approaches the pot. "Of course."

"The base broth is already boiling. Which ingredient should I add next?" Gianna asks.

Bryn often teased Iris for her deficiency in cooking. And now she's posing as the greatest chef in Cyrodil?

"Uh, carrots." She assumes this is a safe choice.

But Gianna scrunches her nose. "Carrots? Really? Okay…" She chops them up and adds them to the pot. "What next?"

Iris's eyes scan the counter for another ingredient. "A splash of mead."

"Ah, of course. I suspected as much."

"You've never cooked in your life, have you?"

Iris jumps at Lucien's voice in her ear. Clearing her throat, she says, "We should add some…nirnroot now."

"Really?" Gianna looks puzzled at the next 'ingredient'. "Oh, yeah, I use nirnroot as a special seasoning all the time, as well."

Lucien actually growls. "Maybe we should feed her some stew, too."

"Now what?" Gianna asks.

Iris peers into the stew, wringing her hands. "Um, some diced horker meat."

"Alright." Gianna adds the meat without question or comment for which Iris and the ghost are thankful. "I have to say, the stew seems done. If we add anything else, it might dilute the distinct flavors."

"Why don't you let me decide when it's done?" She can't help it. She's overcome with stress for what she has to do and annoyance for how Gianna's acting.

"Uh, right. You're the expert."

"One more ingredient." Iris reaches into her pocket and pulls out the Jarrin root. "This."

Gianna takes the root, holding it up to her eyes. "What's this? Some kind of herb? Are you sure? The Potage tastes perfect already. Another ingredient might—"

"Who's the Gourmet again? I could've sworn it was me."

Gianna's brown eyes widen. "Right, I'm sorry." She tosses the root into the stew and gives it a stir. "Alright, it's done. It's been an honor to prepare a meal with the best chef in the Empire." She actually bows. "I'll carry the pot to the dining room. I'm sure the Emperor and his guests are dying to meet you."

Lucien chuckles as they walk toward the dining room. "Dying indeed."


I'm sorry it's so short, but the next chapter is going to be fun :D And it's better than nothing, right? *nervous laugh*

Ahem, anyway...

What do you think is going through Bryn's head right now? How could "his little Iris" do something so horrible?

Then, again, she's in the Dark Brotherhood now about to murder the Emperor so...

Thanks so much for reading! Keep an eye out for another update from me in the next couple of weeks ;)

As always, be sure to favorite, follow, and review! I'd love to hear from you :D