Chapter 7: The Dark Brotherhood Forever

Ria limped towards the Black Door as the sun climbed to it's peak. Falkreath had been up and bustling when she sold her stolen horse there- she already had the one from Whiterun, and didn't need two. The gold jingling in the pouch at her side should have made it feel like she'd accomplished something, but in all honesty, she was just tired.

"Ria!" Lucian said as she slipped in, and she jumped nearly out of her skin, not having expected him to be waiting by the door. His eyes held a boyish energy, but behind them was a flash of- greed? ambition?- that told her why he was so eager for her return, even before he added, "Did you get it? The Black Hand?"

She nodded, swinging her bag from her shoulder to get it. She winced as she did so; the wound in her side had been mostly healed by the potion, but it was still sore. Lucian noticed, and for a second the eager glint was replaced with concern.

"You alright?"

She knelt down next to the bag, lifting the flap and rummaging for the gauntlet. "I'll live. Damned draugr." Her hand closed around the gauntlet, the contact sending a shiver down her spine. That thing set her on edge. "Here." she added as she handed it to him.

He took it gently, gazing at it as though he had been giving a star. A slow smile, part awe and part predatory, spread across his face. "Thank you, Ria." he said quietly. "You've done more for the Brotherhood than you could ever know."

"Perhaps the Brotherhood would like to show its gratitude in gold, then." she jested with a smile. Lucian laughed.

"Don't worry, I have an idea for your reward. In the meantime, I'd like you to gather the others. I have an announcement to make."

"About the demon army." She said. It was a statement, not a question, and the Listener shot her a curious look.

"Yes? How-?"

"I've known you for ten years, Lucian. Don't act so surprised."

He looked at her, thoughtful, then shook his head and smiled. "I guess you're right. Just go get the others." As she closed her pack, he added, "And have Cirion look you over. I need you clear-headed later."

Now it was Ria's turn to look thoughtfully at him. He was hiding something again- not as secretly this time, granted, because his mentions of a reward and 'needing her clear-headed' meant that it was more of a surprise than a secret. Still, Ria didn't much like it.

"I'm always clear-headed, Brother." she said, swinging her bag back over her shoulder and delving into the Sanctuary. She sought out Cirion, and found him and most of the Family eating lunch in the dining hall- minus Coyle and Seba, who were still in Windhelm.

"The wayward daughter returns!" Lynch said when he saw her in the doorway, raising his glass of ale. "What mighty task did the Listener have you out on?"

"Playing fetch." She answered with a small smile, then added, "Lucian has an announcement. I'm guessing that we're gathering in the Chamber."

The others rose at once, and Ria stepped to the side as they filed out into the cavern that contained the forge, waterfall, and the Night Mother's coffin, dubbed the Chamber by Ria. Cirion, a handsome Altmer with golden skin, hair, and eyes, was at the end of the line, and she grabbed his arm.

"Mind patchin' me up real quick?"

"Of course, Sister." He said, voice it's usual smoothness. His hands alighted with a strong healing spell. "Where were you injured?"

She lifted her leather cuirass to show the closed-over gash that ran under her ribs, several inches above her hip. He pressed his hand there, and warmth radiating from the spot, easing the soreness into non-existence.

"Thanks." she said when he stepped back. She was about to give him the paper she had found, but it was then that they heard Lucian's voice, projected so that it boomed off the cavern walls, from the next room.

"Brothers! Sisters!" he called, and any conversations quieted. Ria and Cirion stepped into the room, the spell forgotten in her ledger. They slipped behind the others, who had gathered in a group at the base of the waterfall, gazing upward.

Lucian stood at the summit of the cliff from which the water fell, a giant, stained-glass depiction of a skeletal Sithis behind him. It's reds and golds caused Lucian's attire to stand out; he'd change clothes, and the Dark Brotherhood armor he now wore was pitch-black, absent of the usual red, glimmering where the light hit it right and highlighted the enchantments it bore. The hood was thrown down to reveal his sharp, handsome features, and a gold circlet inset with onyx rested on his head and emphasized his dark hair and eyes.

For a minute, Ria was dumbstruck; gone was the sharp-minded Brother who laughed at her jokes and was overzealous in torture. In his place was a king, with a stance that was regal and a face that was dangerous, fit to lead armies, assassins- demons.

"You may have heard the news of what happened to Whiterun." Murmurs of assent went through the five gathered assassins, though Cicero was surprisingly quiet, a wicked, knowing grin across his face. Ria exchanged a curious look with Babette. "The Brotherhood does not need to fear attack from the creatures who cause so much destruction. In fact-" he held up his hand, and on it he wore the gauntlet he had called the Black Hand, dark purple gems catching the light. Ria suddenly knew, with certainty, what his next words would be, even before a viper's grin spread over her Listener's face. "It's the rest of the world needs to fear attack, from the masters of those creatures. Us."

She had been expecting it, but it still made her head swim. She thought of the creatures that she'd seen, their black bodies and piercing, haunting red eyes. One had destroyed a guard and part of a cell, and a small legion had taken down a city. And Lucian- somehow, impossibly- thought he would control them.

We're going to be kings, he'd said. Looking at him now, she finally believed him.

Conversation rose at Lucian's statement, disbelief going through the group. Cicero sung a lilting tune that Ria didn't quite catch, then descended into mad cackles. Lucian watched, smiling slightly, giving his people a moment among themselves. Ria couldn't take the noise any more; she wanted answers, and she wanted them from Lucian, and she wanted them now.

"Enough!" she shouted over the others, her voice bouncing off the cavern walls. The others quieted, surprised partly by the sheer volume of the word and partly that it was Ria who, for that moment, had held such a commanding tone. They were looking at her, and she added, "Let him speak."

"Thank you, Sister." Lucian said smoothly, smiling down at her. He looked to the others. "It's much to take in, I know, and there are many parts to it. For now, I will announce this: the time has finally come. For years the Princes have risen from Oblivion in petty attempts to conquer man, but Sithis is far greater, far more powerful than any Aedra or Daedra!" Energy was leeching into his voice, infectious and exciting, and the assassins finally started to comprehend what was going on.

"Too long we've hidden in the shadows! To long now has our Father been denied that which is rightfully his! Never again!" There were scattered sounds of ascent, Lynch loudest among them, and Lucian held up his arm again; the Black Hand caught the light, and Ria swore she saw those purple gems glowing softly. "With this, we will be able to call forth the full extent our Father's armies. With this, never again do we have to hide while the world hunts us, slaughtering our Brothers and Sisters." Lucian's eyes flickered to Ria minutely, and her jaw tightened. "I promise you, my Family, that we will never hide again. We will lead the Dread Father's creatures in an army the world can't hope to stand against, and when the Void has reclaimed this world, we will be the kings!"

"Damn right!" Lynch shouted, others piling on their consent. Lucian smiled, glancing at a silent Ria. His eyes held something past excitement, something feverish and feral and all-consuming. It was both terrifying and persuasive.

The Listener, but he was so much more than that now, stepped precariously close to the edge of the cliff. "Tell me, Brothers, Sisters, will you fight with me?!"
Shouts rang back, 'aye' and 'yes' and Lynch's 'to the last'. Lucian's smile was infectious.

"Rejoice, then! And when we've had our day of fun, we move to a new seat of power. At dawn, we're at war."

A chant went up, started by Cicero but accompanied almost instantly. "Hail Sithis! Hail the Night Mother!" Ria was swept up in the energy of it, until she too was saying it, and by the third time they were shouting it so loud that Lucian couldn't be heard as he gave a crazed, triumphant laugh.

After the third repetition, cheers and laughs went up, dispelling them from the chant, and someone called for a toast. Then they were all playfully shoving their way to the dining room and it's ale tankards. Ria watched them but lagged behind, looking up at the man standing above her.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Brother." she said softly.

Lucian laughed. "I always do."


When he had specified 'at dawn, we're at war,' it turned out the Listener was going to be less than flexible when it came to that specific time table. Three out of five assassins were hung over, the fourth had been unable to sleep thanks to Jared appearing in her dreams, and the fifth was Babette, whose usual sleeping time had been interrupted by the festivities. Lucian had had the wonderful, apparently unarguable idea that all these people would be getting up two hours before dawn.

They were to pack everything essential into a pair of wagons that the Listener had somehow come into possession of; that they did it with only a bit of shouting, arguing, and creative death threats was a comment on Lucian's leadership skills.

By the time the sun finally peeked over the eastern horizon, they were ready to travel: the Night Mother's coffin was in one wagon, which Cicero drove, and Babette, Cirion, and everything else essential was in another, directed by Lynch. Ria herself was mounted on the horse she'd stolen from Whiterun, leaving only Lucian standing in the glade outside the Sanctuary doors.

He walked to a small pond near the center of said glade, stretching his hand out over the water. Bubbles started to form instantly, bigger and bigger, until the murky waters almost looked like they were boiling. A shape rose from it, large and esquine, and within seconds, the Listener was mounted on the blackest horse Ria had ever seen, it's red eyes glowing fiercely. She couldn't help wonder if it, too, was one of those Void-demons that Lucian claimed to be able to control.

They pulled up the hill onto the main road and fell into formation, Lynch's carriage in front and Cicero's in back, with Ria and the Listener riding at their sides. The sun was setting when they finally arrived at the gates to Whiterun. The countryside was eerily quiet, vacant of any life. The animals wanted nothing to do with the creatures in the city, and all the people had either died in the attack or fled. To Ria, who had known Whiterun when it was a bustling center of trade, the silence spoke volumes.

They dismounted at the stables, leaving the horses and one of the wagons there. The only one who didn't proceed on foot was Cicero, who still drove the wagon containing the Night Mother's coffin up the road to the gates.

The group was suddenly less inclined to talk when they were in sight of the gates, and fell several paces behind Lucian and Ria. Ria might have gone with them, but she'd seen what the demons could do, and she was going to stay where it was safest: with the person who could control the creatures.

So the Dark Brotherhood stepped up to the gates of Whiterun with their Listener in the lead, flanked by Ria, and the entire group followed by a long wagon with a black coffin. Lucian raised a gloved fist- the one the Black Hand was on- and rapped on the door three times. They opened, seemingly on their own, the second his hand had lowered.

She'd been bracing herself, but it mattered little. She had a view all the way down the main street to the Bannered Mare, and said street was covered in blood. It ran in rivulets across the cobblestone, weaving together in a sanguine web. Bodies- and, perhaps worse, stray body parts- were scattered to the sides, not in the way of anyone wanting to walk but obviously present. The demons, though, were what set Ria on edge the most.

They lined the street, still as statues, red eyes boring into the group of assassins. It was the first time the half-Imperial had seen them in the light of day, and she honestly prefered them in the dark; here, in full view of the sun, their jet-black forms were a sharp contrast, even more so because their skin didn't reflect the light as it should have. It gave them the appearance of wraiths, silently waiting for their prey.

Her hand found a white-knuckled grip on her sword hilt, but Lucian made no move of unease; in fact, he was smiling. It was a viper's smile, marked by ambition and pride, and for a second she was reminded of Motierre- a psychotic, dark-humored Motierre.

The Listener strolled forward, the movement assured and confident, and Ria followed closely. The others were just getting their first glimpses of their- Sithis's- army, but they saw how their Sister reacted, and proceeded forward with similar caution.

Lucian came to a stop next to what had once been the door to the blacksmith's shop, waiting expectantly. One of the creatures finally moved, detaching from the shadow of a building and striding towards them. Ria's sword was halfway from it's sheath when Lucian placed his hand on her wrist and gave her a reassuring look. She ground her teeth together, but let the creature approach unhindered.

It stopped before them, and though it said not a word, something seemed to pass between it and the Listener. Lucian nodded and looked over his shoulder at his assassins.

"The city is ours. They'll bring up our things. Cicero-" the Listener looked past the others, to the Keeper, "They will bring up the coffin. You have my pledged word that they'll not harm Mother."

Mistrust flashed through the madman's eyes, but it was gone in a second. The one unarguable thing that Ria and he had in common was their trust in Lucian. "Of course, my little demon king! Cicero will just supervise, hmm?"

"That will work. The rest of you, we will be staying in Dragonsreach. Go on ahead; our friends-" Lucian motioned to the demon still standing in front of him, "Will show you to your rooms."

The others exchanged glances, but Lynch stepped up, his personal bag draped over his shoulder. Babette and Cirion cautiously did the same, and the group followed the creature up the street. Ria, however, stayed where she was; despite what he said, she doubted that the Keeper wouldn't attack one of those creatures, and there were only two people still living who could usually calm him down.

It seemed her concern was misplaced, because when four creatures, each built like orcs and a foot taller, stepped up to the wagon and slid the coffin out, he said not a word.

The four demons lifted it gently, setting an edge on their shoulders and steadying it with their hands as they began to walk. Cicero bounced along next to them, chattering away animatedly. Ria watched him go, marveling at his energy; she wagered he was almost old enough to be her grandfather, judging by the large streaks of grey through his red hair and the lines on his face, and yet he danced and sang and jumped around like he was a boy. It would never cease to amaze her.

They came to the doors of Dragonsreach, and held the doors open for the coffin-bearers.

"Come, I'll show you your room." Lucian said at length. They crossed to a staircase to the right of the throne, the Hall empty; the others where probably in their rooms.

At the top of the stairs, they emerged in an open area, great double doors opposite them and a map of Skyrim on a table to their right; a war room, of sorts, if the troop markers on the map were anything to go by. They passed it, then turned left. This hallway double as a balcony, with a wood railing overlooking the Great Hall on their left and doors to rooms on the right.

"Here we are," Lucian said, swinging open the door to the steward's quarters. Ria could see instantly that it was the biggest- and most luxurious- room she'd ever stayed in. The bed was a large four-poster, covered by fine forest-green blankets and set with what were probably goose-down pillows. The furniture was smooth oak, all obviously kept in pristine condition. Ria let out a low whistle.

"If this is my room, the Jarl's quarters must be huge." she said, throwing her bag down on the bed and following suit. The mattress was soft and firm, a welcome upgrade from the straw-filled one on her old bed.

Lucian stepped in after her, shutting the door behind him. Ria propped herself up on her elbows, watching him warily as he pulled a chair from a nearby table and settled in front of her.

"I'd like to talk to you about your reward." he said, suddenly serious, and Ria sat up fully, swinging her legs off the side of the bed.

"What'd you have in mind?"

It was several seconds before he answered, "There are two parts to it. The first is already underway, and I want you to know that it will be completed no matter your... reaction to the second part." Unease prickled at the half-Imperial. Can he be more cryptic? she thought. Lucian paused for only a second before continuing. "I sent word to our Sanctuary in Cyrodiil. They're going to try and get you Maro."

At first she was surprised, but as the information registered, anger and excitement roared through her chest, her fingers twitching in anticipation. It was a rare occasion where she wanted to kill someone, wanted to see the look in the bastard's eyes as the life drained from them. She wondered if he would recognize her. She hoped he did; then he'd know just what it was he'd done to bring about his fate.

"Thank you, Lucian. In means alot." she said quietly. "What's the second part of this reward?"

He took a deep breath. "Ria, as you know, the assassins here in Skyrim have been without a Speaker since Nazir passed. With certain things starting to happen, I'm going to have to coordinating with the Speakers from sanctuaries across the province. There are times where I'm going to need to be away, for days or weeks." Oh no. Not a good idea.

"In my absence, I need someone who can keep things running smoothly, and adapt to changing scenarios, if need be." he paused, searching her face. "I'd like you to accept the position of Speaker of Skyrim."

Ria was shaking her head before he was even completely done talking. "Lucian, I appreciate the offer, but we both know I'm not a people person."

"You don't have to be. I'm not asking you to be my second in command, I'm asking you to keep the Family intact for a few days at a time. You work well with them. You'd be excellent." Ria couldn't help but think he looked alittle hurt by her answer, but it didn't stop him from arguing. She tried to think of another way out of this; she still wasn't back to a good place emotionally, and now was not the time to suddenly become responsible for other people's lives.

She frantically searched for an argument. "Shouldn't this position be going to Babette, or Seba?" It was almost physically painful to suggest the latter be made her superior.

"They've been with the Brotherhood longer than either of us."

"I asked both of them two days ago." To say Ria was slightly offended wouldn't have been a lie, but she reminded herself that she didn't want the position right now. "Babette has expressed her disinterest in a position of power several times. Seba declined once she learned that she'd be spending less time in the field."

If there was one thing he could have said to peak her interest, it was that. They both knew what 'less time in the field' meant for her: that she wouldn't have to kill, or at least as much. Though she'd never said it outright, and Lucian didn't pretend to completely understand it, he knew that she disliked that aspect of her job. To be allowed out of it was a reward indeed.

Lucian saw her wavering, and leaned forward to clasp her hands between his. "Please, Ria. I stuck my neck out for you. Mother thought you'd be more useful out in the field, but I told her you would excel as our Speaker." His gaze was softly encouraging. "I don't think I was wrong."

Ria moaned loudly and fell back on her bed. "Alright. Fine. Thank you, I mean. I'll do it."

Lucian jumped up and clapped his hands together, all sombreness gone. "Excellent. As my Speaker, then, I want your opinion on something."

He strolled out the room and down the hall, to the area with the bookshelf and war-table. The Listener rummaged through the books for a moment, opening them and then putting them back until he found the one he was looking for. He laid it out on the table, revealing a hand-sketched map of Riverwood, complete with approximate building and wall locations.

"How would you seize this town?" he asked. She studied the map for a moment, deciding it was best not to ask why.

"I'd go in at night and put a mounted soldier here and here," she said, pointing to each gate. "Place an archer on the roof here," she pointed to the blacksmith's house, "And send in a small group of men from each gate. They'd spread out, work across town, and meet in the middle."

"Hhmm. How many men do you think you'd require?"

"Around fifteen in the main force, plus the other three I mentioned."

Lucian thought it over for a minute. "I like it. Quick and simple." He smiled, a wicked expression that held only dark humour. "Let's put it to the test." The Listener straightened and added, "Tell the others to gear up. It's time to expand our reach."


The moons shone brightly in the night, one waning and the other nearly full. It was the only sources of illumination for the guards patrolling Riverwood. Some of the locals had joined their ranks, the town needing the militia more than ever with Whiterun destroyed.

They were still no match for the shadows that descended on them.

The group patrolling the gates were the first to notice something amiss. Men and women on each wall saw mounted, cloaked figures approaching, something that was only alittle alarming; hunters kept odd hours, as some animals being more active at night, and travelers often passed through on the way to Whiterun. As the strangers approached, though, one towards each gate, the guards could just make out their eyes, glowing a fierce, unnatural red.

Fear gripped the Nord, and he opened his mouth to raise the alarm, only for an arrow to fly through his neck, ending the sound in his throat. Arrows suddenly flew from inside the town, taking out guards on each gate with deadly precision. One soldier, a woman, staggered to a bone warhorn, an arrow sticking through her chest, and managed one long blow before she collapsed.

It was no use. The townspeople were roused, the rest of the guards and armed citizens suddenly on the streets, only to meet shadows that cut through them with ease. Some of their assailants were pitch-black creatures, their blades part of their bodies; others wore dark leather armor and sliced through men and woman with daggers and swords. Their appearance made no difference to the citizens of Riverwood. They were all demons.

Seba and Coyle had returned from Windhelm to Whiterun with enough time to report the findings of their scouting mission to Lucian- and, with her new position, Ria. The Dark Elf now slipped from the roof of the blacksmith's shop where she and Ria had opened fire on the guards. She joined up with Coyle, Cirion, and Lynch, who had a handful of Void-creatures through the nearby gate and were battling their way towards the center of town. Ria stayed where she was, watching the town with an eagle eye, picking off people who tried to jump into her Siblings' already-started fights

Her bow sang almost constantly, taking a life for ever arrow she fired, but she felt only a dim sense of guilt. They were trying to kill her Family, and that justified it slightly. She wouldn't enjoy it, as her siblings obviously were, but she could live with it.

The town's militia was decimated within twenty minutes, no match for Void-creatures or their masters. The demons picked their way through the town, slaying survivors indiscriminately, but other than the occasional scream the sport was in the main street, where the assassins were toying with a few surviving guards.

Ria walked around town, collecting her arrows and putting them back into her quiver. When she had most of them, she circled back around to her Siblings, standing a few feet back in the hopes to avoid being drawn into the action. She thought she was out of the clear when they'd dispatched the final guard, laughing at the expression on his face, but no such luck. The assassins looked around, still under the influence of bloodlust and looking for new prey to hunt. Cirion must have seen something, because he made a motion with his hand and cast a spell, and suddenly a person was hovering in the air perhaps twenty feet away, held in place by telekinesis.

Lucian walked over, plucking the person from the air and forcing him to his knees in front of him. The others moved over, excited for whatever game was in store this time, and Ria followed disinterestedly.

The person wasn't more than a boy, perhaps eleven years old. His eyes were flashing around wildly, but he had nowhere to go. Lucian was grinning wickedly.

"Who should get this one?" he asked them jestingly, and several volunteers voiced their claims. His eyes zeroed in on Ria, though, smile growing wider.

"I think our new Speaker should have the honors." he said, and the others watched her with curiosity and excitement.

Ria's eyes flickered to the boy's begging eyes. "I've had my share of blood today. I wouldn't mind some ale, though." she said, trying not to sound too dismissive.

"Nonsense! Come, I'll make it fun." The Listener said, hauling the boy to his feet and leaning forward to speak into his ear. "Okay, kid. We'll make a deal. If you can get to that gate-" Lucian nodded across town, to the gate closest to Whiterun, "Before I count to three, then you can live. If you don't, my friend here will have the honors of adding your soul to the Dread Father's army." He looked up at that last part, eyes boring into Ria, and she stepped back.

"No, thank you, Listener." she said, knuckles white with her grip on her bow. Lucian was now staring at her pointedly, trying to get some message across, and Ria could guess what it was: that even the Speaker was to obey the Listener.

"I can give him to Lynch, if you prefer." Lucian said, tone only the slightest bit strained. Ria's eyes went to the boy; Lynch didn't get many contracts, so he liked to play with his food when he had the chance.

"No." She said, voice even. She managed a smile. "Let's play the game."

The Listener grinned, suddenly happy again, and promptly let the boy go. He took off, slipping on blood in his haste.

"One." Lucian said, and the boy stumbled over a body and fell to his knees, pulling himself up and continuing on. "Two." The Listener glanced to Ria, stone in his eyes, and she knew she had no choice. She nocked an arrow; the boy was still three houses away from the gate. "Three!"

Ria pulled the bow back and held it, completely numb, and let the arrow fly. It pierced the child through the head, toppling him over on his side. Hoots went up, and Ria gave them a strained smile.

They crossed to the body, Ria in tow, and there was another uproar of amusement as they saw where the arrow had hit; even from behind, the tip stuck out from right in between his eyes. Ria freed the arrow and murmured her prayer. She could still see his glazed-over eyes long after she closed them.

She knew before they even returned to Whiterun that she wouldn't sleep that night. Not that night, and not for many nights after.