"They are called The Hunger." Wunnferth the Unliving explained, his gravelly voice somewhat muffled by his massive beard. "They are the favored servants of Boethiah, the Prince of Plots."

"I had figured they were servants of Boethiah, though I didn't know their name." Sionis answered. "Is there anything else you can tell me about them?"

"It is said that their bite will unmake even the strongest and most well-made armor, though I have never witnessed it." The older of two mages said. But then his expression changed and he asked, "How is it you knew the origin of these creatures, but not their name?"

"I may have a personal interest in The Prince of Plots." The dark-eyed mage answered somewhat meekly.

"Ah," Wunnferth breathed with a look of warning upon his face. "My friend, no good ever comes from consorting with the Daedric Lords."

"I know!" Sionis cried, nearly shouting before regaining his calm. "I know, Wunnferth. But it's personal. I can't let it go."

"It's personal? What do you mean?"

"Clairiss." The younger mage answered in a whisper. "She was taken from me and her body desecrated. And Boethiah is the one responsible."

"You're after revenge!?" The old court mage asked incredulously. "And just what do you intend to do to a god?"

"I'm sorry, but it's better that you not know." Sionis answered. "I'll understand if you won't help me any longer, but I've made my decision and I must see it through."

"Sionis, I will not condone whatever it is you have set your mind to do," the older mage replied. "But I will always help you if I can. If there is anything else you need, just ask."

"Thank you, my friend." The younger man sighed.

Wunnferth stood with a kind smile and walked with the young man to the great doors of The Palace of the Kings, saying nothing. Sionis was grateful for that. He wasn't sure there was anything more to say. The comfort of his quiet support was enough at that moment.

The dark-blonde mage stepped out into a blustery day, the wind blowing snow in every direction. He quickly made his way to Candlehearth Hall, the large inn that stood as the first sight that greeted one as they came through the main gates of Windhelm. It was time to return to Sable to prepare for the last leg of their dangerous – most likely suicidal – journey.

Sable felt uneasy being back in Windhelm. Last time she'd spent any time in the cold, snowy city, she had attended a fancy ball thrown by Ulfric Stormcloak and stolen a very valuable broach from the Jarl of Falkreath. Afterwards, she had quite possibly riled up a key contact for the Thieves Guild. While it was rather unlikely, she always thought that everybody had that queer look of recognition in their eyes. She wanted simply to stay the one night they had agreed upon and then stock up on whatever supplies they thought might be needed and leave.

And so she pulled at the hood of her cloak constantly, making sure it obscured her face as much as possible. She made her way through the Stone Quarter, to where the outside market lay. Per her arrangement with Sionis, she was supposed to secure their rooms at Candlehearth Hall, but she had a quick errand to run.

Shortly after she ascended a small series of steps, the street opened into a wide courtyard that contained a handful of merchant stands. She made straight for the blacksmith working at his forge which stood at her immediate right.

"Excuse me." She called over the din of his hammering.

The large bald man looked up from his work and pulled his apron up to wipe the sweat from his brow. When he finally put it back he gave her a forced smile through a rather blonde beard and then addressed her.

"What can I help you with, lass?"

"What can you tell me about these?" Sable asked showing him the pair of elven daggers she had taken from the Thalmor Embassy.

"Those are elven daggers," the man stated simply, "They are made from refined moonstone and quicksilver. Pain in the backside to craft too. That's why you don't see very many of them."

"I know what kind of daggers they are." The assassin replied, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.

"Then why in Oblivion are you bothering me about them?" The blacksmith spat.

"There is something different about these." Sable returned. "Can you take a closer look?"

The man sighed with annoyance, but leaned in quite close to look them over.

"They are enchanted," he said a moment later. "You can tell by the faint glimmer that runs across them every so often."

Sable smiled and had to fight to contain a small jump of excitement.

"Can you tell me what the enchantments are?" She asked hopefully.

"Nah," the blacksmith shrugged. "I'm a blacksmith, not some fragile spell-flinger."

Sable shot the man a dark look that he never saw as he had already turned back to his work and she fought the urge to use him as a test subject for the enchanted blades.

"If you're that curious," the man remarked a second later, "you could always take them over to Niranye's stall across the way and have her take a look at them with her bedeviled enchanting altar."

"Thank you, for all your help." Sable said a moment later and then turned back down the street to return to Candlehearth Hall. While she wasn't afraid of the high elf, she didn't want any interaction with the thieves' extensive network of contacts. She certainly didn't want them involved in any of her business. She couldn't imagine that the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood were on good terms after the debacle Delvin Mallory had pushed her into.

Moments later, Sable pushed the doors to Candlehearth open and stepped inside. Compared to the stinging wind and snow she had just come out of, the light and warmth of the inn felt almost like a slap in the face. She walked up to the innkeeper and asked for two rooms.

"Sorry, but we only have one available," replied the middle-aged Nord woman behind the bar. "It does have two beds though." She offered after Sable cursed.

"How much?" The white-haired assassin asked with a sigh.

"Ten septims and it's yours for the night." The innkeeper replied.

"Fine." Sable said simply as she counted out the money. "My friend should arrive shortly. He's nearly as tall as me and will be wearing mage robes. Can you please see him to the room?"

The older woman just nodded and then beckoned her newest patron to follow her as she showed Sable to her room.

It wasn't long before she heard a knock at the door.

"Sable, it's me."

The pale-eyed woman got up and unlocked and opened the door for her companion. He walked in and stopped short when he noticed both beds.

"Only one room for us this time?" He questioned with an arched eyebrow

"It was all they had." She replied.

"I see." He returned, then changed the subject a moment later. "Well, the creatures we've been encountering are called The Hunger. Apparently, they are the favored servants of Boethiah. So it would seem that he is somehow getting them onto the mortal plane, though I have no idea how."

"Do you think killing Boethiah will banish them back to their home plane again?"

The mage shrugged. "It's possible, though I don't know for sure. I would like to think that without their master's power, they would no longer be able to run amok throughout Skyrim."

There was a moment of silence as the two of them just stared at each other. As if they both were searching the other for some sign that the task of killing a Daedric Lord could actually be accomplished.

"Do you know much about enchantments?" Sable asked, finally breaking the quiet.

"Not an area of expertise," Sionis replied, "but I know a little. Why?"

Sable pulled out the ensorcelled blades. "I took these from the embassy," she explained somewhat sheepishly. "The blacksmith here told me they were enchanted."

"They are indeed." The mage confirmed leaning in for a closer look. "They look to be powerful ones as well."

"Can you tell what enchantments they are?"

"No, I cannot." He replied shaking his head. "But I can take them to my friend and have him look at them on his enchanting altar." He offered. "He can tell what enchantments they have on them."

"Would you please?" She asked beginning to titter a bit and thrusting them out for him to take.

"Of course." Sionis answered with a smile.

A smile spread across her face and she just sat there staring him.

"You mean right now?"

The expectant smile grew wider.

"Okay," the mage sighed. "I'll return soon."

Sionis turned and left the room and made his way back towards The Palace of the Kings. He knew it would seem odd to call upon Wunnferth's aid again so quickly, but it couldn't be helped. If he didn't do this for Sable right then, he would probably never hear the end of it until he did actually go and check the enchantments on the daggers. But was that really the reason he so readily agreed to her request? He wondered about his motivation and it didn't seem to be one of annoyance prevention. While he didn't want to admit – certainly not to her – it had given him joy to see her exuberance to have so simple a task accomplished.

He shivered against the snow that was now blowing sideways and quickened his cadence. The sooner he could get this done and take a seat in the warm and cozy inn for dinner, the better.

Once again the guards at the palace said nothing and allowed him into the grand building that towered over the hold city. Sionis went directly for the stairs that led up to the court mage's apartment. He stepped into the open doorway and softly called for his old friend.

"Back already?" The old mage emerged from a corner to Sionis' left, startling him.

"Yes, sorry." Sionis stammered though Wunnferth just shook his head to indicate no apologies were necessary. The younger man collected his breath and continued. "Can you take a look at these daggers with your enchanting altar and tell what they've been imbued with?"

"Certainly." The court mage replied taking the blades and inspecting them. "They look to be powerful enchantments judging from the strength of their glimmering."

"That's what I thought." The dark-eyed mage agreed.

"Let's take a look then." Wunnferth said as he placed one on the altar and bent over and placed both hands just outside the pentagram that was inlaid on the table. Each of the five points contained one symbol from one of the five schools of magic, glowing faintly. A large skull from some awful looking creature was set into the top of the five sided altar. Wunnferth stared into the eye sockets of the skull and suddenly a light blue light flared to life in them. The emblems now glowed much more brightly and the dagger was lifted off of the table and slowly circled and twirled in the air.

A moment later, it set back down and the court mage replaced it with the other blade and performed the minor ritual again, using the magic of the enchanting table to look into the dagger. When finished, he broke the connection and turned a grave stare upon Sionis.

"Where did you get these?" Wunnferth asked in a low tone.

"A friend came by them." The younger mage answer evasively. "In all honesty, you probably don't want to know."

The court mage grunted and held his stare for a moment, but when it became clear that his friend's resolve would not be broken, he sighed.

"The enchantments on these daggers are indeed powerful." Wunnferth finally said. "This one," he continued holding out the dagger with the red shimmer, "has a vampiric property placed into it. It quite literally steals the life of the victim and transfers it to its owner. The drain of life will happen every time the victim is struck. If stabbed and the blade is held inside of them, the drain will be continuous until it is removed." Then, he handed the blade that shown with a deep green light. "This one strikes with an enchantment of paralysis. Anyone inured by this dagger will not be able to move at all for a short period of time. And when I say they can't move, I mean it. They will not even be able to draw breath. These daggers are very powerful and therefore very dangerous. Please make sure they are placed in hands that would not abuse them."

"Thank you, old friend." Sionis said before turning to leave for a second time.

"You – as always – are welcome." Wunnferth said quietly as he watched the younger man go.

When Sionis returned to Candlehearth Hall, he found Sable seated at a table in the upstairs dining area.

"I've ordered us some stew." She said as he sat down.

Sionis nodded. "My friend was able to identify the enchantments on your daggers." He offered, not seeing much point in discussing the anticipated stew. "They are quite powerful as I thought. The first ..."

"Well, hello there." A purring voice interrupted him.

Sionis turned his gaze to see a blonde Nord woman carrying two bowls of stew. She set them both down in a manner that offered a prolonged view of the ridiculous cleavage her dress allowed.

"Your companion didn't say that her guest would be so enticing." The woman remarked after standing again. The top of her dress was gold colored with a neckline that plunged so low that it left little to the imagination. Below that, a common brown corset held everything laced together and served to accentuate her hips that were nearly visible due to the high slits in the either side of the rustic green skirt she wore.

"I beg your pardon?" Sionis asked completely befuddled.

The woman, apparently their waitress, replied with an over-exaggerated wink before moving on to take the order of another patron.

Sionis turned his baffled look towards Sable who glared into the back of the woman before turning her attention back to him.

"That was … odd." He stated before attempting to resume their conversation. "So, about your daggers ..."

"Is there anything else I can get you?" He was interrupted again by the same cloying voice.

Sionis again turned to see the same woman as before staring straight at him.

"I'm fine, thank you." The mage replied politely.

"Are you sure?" The barmaid asked, again leaning down a bit to give him a better view of the goods she had to offer. "Could I get you something to drink? A mead, or perhaps … something else?"

"Perhaps after my meal." Sionis offered, still not wanting to be rude, but also wanting to return to his conversation with Sable.

"Of course," the woman replied, "We have any number of treats for you to enjoy once you've finished your stew. But if you need anything before then, just call for me. My name is Susanna." She finished before adding in a husky whisper, "Susanna the Wicked." She gave him another wink before leaving again.

"I don't like her." Sable remarked through clenched teeth. "I don't like her at all."

"Hopefully, that's the last we'll see of her for a while." Sionis offered hopefully. But his hopes were dashed just a few minutes later when he heard her voice yet again.

"Here you go, honey." Susanna, purring as sensuously as she could, setting down a large sweet roll next to his stew.

"I didn't ask for this." Sionis replied losing the polite tone in his voice.

"It okay." The barmaid explained. "It's on me."

The mage sighed. "Uh … okay, great."

"And if that's not enough to satisfy your sweet-tooth, I'm sure I can find something even sweeter for you, if you'd like."

"What I'd like," Sionis replied rather curtly, "would be to be left alone so I can eat my meal and talk to my friend."

Susanna just smiled and slunk away into the din of Candlehearth Hall.

"If she comes over here just one more time…" Sable seethed, flailing the women's skin from her bones with her eyes.

"Let's just try to salvage the meal." Sionis entreated his heated companion. "Now, I can tell you about the daggers you found ..."

"Actually," Sable interrupted, "I'll be back in just a moment."

Sionis threw his hands up in the air as she stood and walked quickly from the table, following Susanna downstairs. It didn't take her long to spot the offending barmaid. The assassin stormed up to her target and yanked her around to face her.

"I'll tell you only once," Sable threatened, eyes aflame with rage. "Leave him alone!"

"Why should I?" Susanna retorted ignoring the death filled gaze being shot her way. "I like what I see and I always get what I want."

"Not tonight." The assassin rebuked. "Leave him be. He's not for you."

"And who is he for, honey?" The overly amorous waitress asked cynically. "You?"

The question caught Sable off guard. How did she feel about her mage companion? Did she consider him her own? And did he feel the same about her? She pushed the thoughts aside. Right then, it didn't matter if she knew the answers to those disturbingly vexing questions. The only thing that mattered, right then, was that this harlot would not have him. Susanna, though, took the moment of silence as victory.

"Look," she teased condescendingly, "It's okay to admit that, next to me, he's just not interested in you."

"And at what point has he shown any interest in you?" Sable shot back.

"He'll come around," Susanna announced confidently. "They always do."

"I'm warning you, you tramp," Sable growled. "Leave him alone."

The other woman sighed in mock concern. "I understand your jealous, but try not to be so mad that you don't have anything to offer him." She flicked the material of the rather plain blue dress that Sable was wearing. "But don't worry. I'll treat him especially nice for you."

With that, Susanna the Wicked sauntered off in victory leaving Sable staring down at her clothing, shaking with fury. How dare that woman even insinuate she was superior to her in any way? If she even touched Sionis …

That thought was too much. She'd had enough and she was going to make that hussy pay. She would pay for her insolence and she would pay for even thinking about taking Sionis away from her. The pale-eyed assassin spun and made for her room. There, she would find everything she needed to end that whore's little game.

All eyes turned towards her as she came into sight, slowly ascending the steps leading to the upstairs dining room. The dress she wore was of a deep purple made from a flowing material that hugged the curves of her body before flowing off of her hips and reaching to her ankles. The low square neckline was trimmed in a satiny material of the same color as the rest of the gown, but the sheen of it drew one's attention, momentarily, to her perfect cleavage. The lavender lace sleeves stayed tight on her arms all the way to her hands wrapping into a ring of the satiny trim that she had slipped the middle finger of each hand through making sure they stayed in place. The dress was completed with embroidery looping down the left side depicting deathbell flowers in a white-silver thread that made the eye travel the entire dress from top to bottom and back again.

She knew, from the turning heads and the quieting of the chatter around her, that she was getting exactly what she needed. And so it was that Sable walked confidently and determinedly to the table where Sionis was sitting, his eyes wide and his mouth agape as watched her approach. Susanna had been standing there with her back to the assassin, once more attempting to get the mage to bow to her whorish charms. But she had his attention no longer. Sable was the only thing he could see in this world and it made her smile and she felt her cheeks begin to flush.

The girlish rush of shyness and bliss evaporated the instant she once again took in her rival. The blonde harlot had still not turned around, but it was clear that she knew her target wasn't paying her any mind as she tried to get him to look at her again.

The captivating assassin walked right up behind the barmaid, never alerting her to her presence and then said, "I thought I told you to leave him alone."

Susanna spun to face her unworthy adversary, anger and irritation twisted across her face for only a moment before it died, giving way to astonishment as she finally beheld the white-haired and stunning woman before her.

Susanna stammered at seeing the assassin so transformed by the simple changing of her dress, though she finally managed to pull herself back into the persona she had built for herself over the years.

"And what do you hope to gain with this pathetic attempt?" The barmaid scoffed almost convincingly. "Won't you be even more embarrassed when your companion stays with me tonight?"

Sable's answer was to look down to the seated mage and see him sitting motionless, still drinking her in with his eyes. She, then, looked all around the room to see plenty of gazes still turned her way.

"I'm not sure very many people in this room still know you're here." The assassin replied in a matter-of-fact kind of tone.

Susanna looked around and almost wondered if she was even visible. The whole room seemed frozen and fixed upon this woman clad in the most wondrous gown she'd ever seen.

"I don't care about them." The barmaid stated with a quiver in her voice that betrayed her attempt to still sound confident. She then gestured toward Sionis. "This one is the only one that matters."

"Well then, let's ask him whose company he would prefer." Sable offered. Not waiting for her opponent to agree or disagree, she turned her attention to her mage companion and asked. "Sionis, which of us would you like to keep you company this evening?"

"Oh … my … Dibella …" He muttered to himself before finally being able to break the trance Sable had put him in. "You, of course, Sable." He said rising to his feet and finding it quite difficult not to reach out and take her hands in his own. "Please rejoin me." He then, finally, looked over to Susanna. "Thank you, I'll call with there is anything else we need with the meal."

Susanna, mortified, spun back to Sable, rage twisting the features of her face into a hideous expression. But before she could say anything, Sable added one last jab.

"I understand your jealous, but try not to be so mad that you don't have anything to offer him." The assassin said flicking her finger against the shoulder strap of the barmaid's all too revealing garb.

Susanna the Wicked now shook with anger and embarrassment. "You ... you wretched horker sow. I'll … I'll cut that frock from your body and … and …"

"You won't touch this dress!" Sable cut her off shouting, before quieting to a threatening hiss. "Or him!"

Quicker than the barmaid's eyes could register, the white-haired woman had a hold of the back of her neck in an iron grip. Susanna's face was then brought uncomfortably close to hers.

"You're not his type." Sable seethed. "Now have I made my point clear? Or do I need to use this?" And suddenly there was the needle-sharp point of a throwing dart so close to the barmaid's left eye that her eyelashes brushed against it.

It was truly frightening how the small, but keen-edged blade had just appeared. And Susanna saw nothing but the promise of pain in the other woman's eyes.

A moment later, despite not getting an answer, Sable let the wench go and smiled a quite satisfied smile as she watched Susanna the Wicked scurry off as quickly as she could.

Sable turned and sat back down at the table she and Sionis shared.

"Now, where were we?" She asked.

"You look so beautiful." Sionis blurted out, unable to contain himself.

Sable blushed and bowed her head to the side in a wave of shyness.

"Thank you, Sionis." She said demurely. "I love the dress."

"You do?" He asked sounding rather incredulous.

"Yes," Sable assured him. "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect gift."

"Really?" Sionis was nearly beyond belief. He never would have figured that Sable, an efficient, ruthless, master assassin that really enjoyed her job would love something that seemed so opposite of the persona associated with her profession.

She nodded. "Yes, it makes me look so pretty." The assassin gushed.

"No, it's actually the other way around." The mage said with a shake of his head. "It's you that makes the dress seem so radiant."

Sable blushed again and for moment, Sionis considered kissing her, but a glance to her right elbow held him back. He wasn't sure if anything had changed between them in the couple of weeks since they had started this whole thing, but he was sure that he didn't want another forced nap caused by a painful blow to his temple. And so, in the end, he had leaned just a slight bit toward her, before his doubt had crept in causing him to sit back and look like a fool.

Sable noticed her companion's movement and wondered what his aborted intentions had been. Then she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Then she straightened. What in Oblivion was wrong with her? Why in Oblivion was she acting this way? She never let anyone have this kind of effect on her. And why in Oblivion was it suddenly so damned important that some barmaid not try to gain Sionis' affection? All this had to be put down. She had to regain control over herself and her companion.

The dark-eyed mage saw her suddenly straighten her posture and watched the smile leave her face. He knew the mask was back on; the walls were back up and he could only sigh inwardly as he knew what it meant. Whatever might have been said between the two – whatever glimpse he might have gotten of her soul – was gone. He almost felt sick.

"We should get some rest." She stated with a tone of authority. "We don't have much time before Boethiah's summoning day, so we should be up early tomorrow and make our way to Kynesgrove."

With that, she stood and bade him a good night and started for the stairs that led down to their room.

And in that moment, something snapped in Sionis. He just couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and caught her by the wrist and held her there. A gaze that was filled with shock instantly fell upon him. He stood and blocked her path before letting go of her arm.

"Enough is enough, don't you think?" He asked her, his eyes simmering.

"Get out of my way." Sable said quietly, positively vibrating, but whether it was from rage or fear or something else entirely Sionis couldn't tell.

"No," Sionis said calmly but firmly. "I can't do that until you admit this has gone on long enough."

"What are you talking about?" The assassin questioned, fearing his answer, though knowing what it would be.

"I'm talking about you." The mage answered. "I don't understand why you're doing this. Again."

"I'm not doing …"

"Stop it, Sable." Sionis interrupted and he suddenly looked very tired. "Just. Stop." He paused for a moment, but continued before she could respond. "I don't understand what's so infuriating about sharing yourself with me. Twice now, you've helped me through pain – very deep and very personal pain – that left me open to you. Most recently, you held me through the trauma of a nightmare I would visit on no one. You've seen me with my heart laid open, but you refuse to let me even think about returning that kindness and intimacy."

"I c-can't … I … I can't …" Sable cast her eyes to the ground. When she looked back up at her companion, tears threatened to spill from them. For a long moment she just stared at him and neither said a word. Finally her countenance softened ever so slightly and, barely above a whisper, she conceded to him. "I promise I will listen, but please let me do so in our room."

Sionis nodded and took her hand in his and led her from the dining room.

Moments later, the mage used his magic to light a lamp in their shared room before closing the door.

"Well," she said in an almost accusatory tone, "what do you want from me?"

"I want some honesty." The mage replied. "I want you to be honest with me and with yourself. I want you to tell me why you won't let me in."

Sable sat in thought for several moments. If he didn't understand by now, how was she supposed to explain it? She couldn't let herself give up any part of her. If she no longer had any power over herself, how could expect to exert it over anyone or anything else? He was supposed to be some kind of genius mage. Why hadn't he figured any of this out yet?

She focused back on her companion who was just sitting there looking at her expectantly and sighed.

"I can't." She finally said. "I can't let you in. I wish I could, but I can't. It would be giving up too much."

"What do you mean by giving up too much?" Sionis asked and there was no irritation or accusation in his voice.

"Power." Sable answered with just a word before elaborating. "Everything in this world is about power. The power others hold over you versus the power you hold over others. In everything you do, you're either taking it or giving it up. I can't let you see too much of me or allow myself to feel what I want about you. It would be giving up too much."

The mage took it all in. It took a good while to sort out everything she had said. Was it really that simple? Or was there something more to it that she either didn't admit or didn't realize? In the end, he decided that it was that simple and that he would have to put his answer out there for her, and hope she could – would – take it in and allow it to help.

"It's not power you are always fighting for, Sable." He said. "What you seek is control. I wish you didn't need it so badly, but for whatever reason you fight or kill to have it with every person and every situation. The problem is that you don't actually have any because you're always acting out of fear. You're letting whatever you're afraid of control you." She glared at him, but he continued undeterred. "I've seen you at your best. Like when we first met and you jumped into half-dozen skooma dealers, including two mages, me being one of them. Or during our attempt to take out Cragslane Cavern and the alarm was sounded and we were overwhelmed. Both times, you were breathtaking. In those cases, you were so powerful and great because you knew you were going to die and instead of being afraid of it and running, you took control of your own life and faced it with a true joy and strength.

"Sable, control isn't when you allow the fear to make your decisions for you. Control is standing in the face of the fear and making decisions despite it. Running from it or erecting defenses against it do nothing but make it stronger as it lays siege to your life and soul. Don't be afraid to give of yourself. Just give of yourself on your own terms."

Sable sat there with a look of bewilderment and terror.

"I … I don't know what to do with this." She finally admitted.

"That's okay." Sionis answered. "I'm sure it's a lot to take in. Just think on it. Examine yourself with it thoroughly and then make your decision. I just ask that you don't shut me out because you're afraid of what might happen. Decide how you feel about us and then laugh at whatever your fear of losing control tries to throw at you. Control is about ruling the fear that's there, not letting it rule you."

The only answer she could muster was a weak smile. He smiled back hoping it was an encouraging one and reached out to take her hand. He readied himself for the blow, but it never came. She grasped his hand and held it in both of hers for a moment.

"I still don't know what to do with this." The shaken assassin finally said. "Can you be patient?"

"I will wait as long as you need me to." He assured her before adding. "Within reason, anyway."

She smirked and a short, ragged giggle escaped her. "Thank you, Sionis. Good night."

"Good night." He said with a smile before extinguishing the lamp and throwing the room into darkness.

A/N: We're coming up on the big fight with Boethiah. Loved writing this chapter so I hope you all enjoy reading. Feel free to leave a review if you did. Also a huge thanks to Velephiron for looking over this chapter for me.

-E.K.