A/N: Hello and welcome back! Sorry this chapter took so long. My writing time got severely reduced for awhile while we moved as well as other craziness. This is also the longest chapter I've written to date and, at times, it just resisted getting written.

Thanks to Sky (aka ScriptrixDraconum) for reading over this chapter for me. If you haven't read her Hero series be sure to check it out either here or on AO3.

Thanks to Relentless Revolver and Sokat for the reviews.

And thank you to all of you still reading and enjoying this story.

Snow began to fall lazily in large cloud-like clumps as the pair stood there staring at the monument to the Daedric Prince of Deception. It was Sable that snapped out of the spell first and began to move towards a set of stairs cut right from the rock of the mountain that lay on the far side of the camp. They ran along a large circular wall with stone spikes jutting out horizontally all around it. It was up on that platform where the statue of Boethiah stood.

With Sionis only a moment behind her, Sable began to ascend the steps. About half way up, they came to a small landing that led to their right where a much larger tent stood, but she paid it little heed and continued up the steps until she came to the top.

There, she found a large circular platform that was mostly empty. There was pot or jar here and there along the edges, but otherwise there was little else. At the far end of the platform, the towering stone effigy of Boethiah loomed high above them.

Tendrils of rock rose out of the landing engulfing the lower half of her body, one molding into her right arm. Another wrapped itself across her chest, going from her left hip over her right shoulder like a sash. Her left arm was raised high above her head brandishing a giant stone sword as she scowled menacingly down upon them.

Neither of them moved for some time; both awe-struck at the monument in front of them. They could almost feel the malice pouring from the statue towards them. It was Sable that finally broke the fearful silence.

"So, we are really going to summon her tomorrow?"

"Yep," he answered without moving his gaze from the enormous figure of the Deadric Prince. "Are you really going to kill him tomorrow?"

And that was the question. Was she going to attempt to kill Boethiah? Or was she going to offer up Sionis in exchange for the power the Daedric Lord offered? Could she even trust the Lord of Lies to follow through on her promise? Could she trust Sionis? Everything he had said about her giving in to fear kept infiltrating her thoughts through the past two days and it seemed to make sense, but she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that it was all just a way for him to control her. But wouldn't Boethiah have control over her if she agreed to become Boethiah's champion?

"I have no idea," she finally answered honestly.

"If anyone can, it would be you," the mage answered, not understanding the true meaning of her answer. "Come on," he continued before turning away and heading back down the steps, "Let's see what provisions we can find. No sense trying to face Boethiah hungry and tired if we can help it."

Sable didn't answer. She remained rooted a moment longer, her eyes still locked on those of the statue's. She gave a slight nod to her divine adversary before following her companion down to the landing below.

"How's the lock on that chest coming along?" Sionis asked, not really concerned about his partner's fascination with things that were meant to keep her out. His true motivation was to break the heavy silence that had settled since she had started working on it.

"Fine," she said flatly without even giving him a glance. And then the quiet took over again. With the snow falling, they had quickly decided to take shelter in the large tent on the landing half way down to the camp from the statue of Boethiah. It was shaped like a miniature barn and was large enough for the both of them to stand comfortably, provided they were standing at opposite ends of the interior. In the center, just inside the door flap, there was a circle of stone marking the place to set up a fire. Also within the tent was a small table, upon which rested quite the collection of bric-a-brac, and next to the table, a large locked chest that was sole object of Sable's focus.

"That one has taken awhile," he commented, again trying to break free from the silence so he wasn't just standing there awkwardly staring at her back.

"Yes," she sighed, stopping her work and turning to look at him. "This is my last pick. If I break it, then the only way to find out what's inside this chest would be to try and break it open. That could potentially damage or ruin whatever is inside, so I'm taking my time to make sure I get it right the first time."

"I see," Sionis said shuffling his gaze around nervously. "Sorry."

Sable turned her attention back to the lock and the oppressive silence settled back in.

"I'll go look for some firewood," he mumbled quietly. If his companion heard him, she didn't acknowledge it. With that, he turned and left the tent.

Outside, the snow was still falling gently. Dark clouds stretched across the sky in every direction he could see. He looked up, letting the snow fall onto his face; feeling the soft pinpricks of cold as he wondered if his last night to stare up at the sky would be one devoid of the twin moons, the stars, and the beauty of Skyrim's aurora. Was the ugliness of this overcast firmament an indictment of what he intended to do the following day? He still felt the need to mete out judgment on Boethiah, but he shuddered to think of another innocent dying because of him. He knew that Sable was here willingly, but he found himself sincerely hoping that if she died, that he would as well.

Sionis closed his eyes and shook the thoughts from his head. He would have to find a way of living with himself later. He had a more immediate matter to which he needed to attend; namely, surviving a cold Skyrim night in a tent. And that meant he needed firewood.

Sable felt the resistance melt away on another pin. She knew she was taking more time than she needed. The excuse that this was her last pick and she needed to be careful was just a lie to hide behind. While tougher than the average lock on most houses, this one wasn't particularly difficult. But if she stretched out task, concentrating solely on it, she could avoid the disturbing thoughts about Sionis just a little bit longer. Another pin gave up the fight and she sighed. There was only so long you could force a menial task to take. She heard the mage come back into the tent and heard him begin to clatter and shuffle around the fire pit. After hearing the whooshing sound of him igniting a fire, she sighed again and decided to just move on with it. Perhaps whatever was in the chest could distract her for a while. She slipped her pick across the remaining pin, raking it into position quite easily and the lock clicked open.

"Got it," She announced half-heartedly.

"Anything interesting?" The mage asked.

Sable lifted the lid of the chest and gasped when she saw its contents. "What in Oblivion?" She breathed.

There was a slight shuffling noise as Sionis came over to look over her shoulder, curious at what she had found.

"Snow!?" He chortled incredulously at the chest packed full of pristine white snow. "Is there truly not enough snow to be found throughout Skyrim that she felt she need to lock some of it away?"

Sable sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to the snow packed chest. Why would anyone want to keep a bunch of snow from others? It just made no sense.

"Is there anything else in there?" Sionis asked, his curiosity tinged with caution as if he wasn't sure he truly wanted to know what else might be in the chest.

Sable pulled her black and sanguine leather gloves back on and plunged her hands into the snow. When she didn't immediately feel anything, she began scooping out chucks of the white fluff. Several handfuls later, she came across the true treasure contained within. It was a red lump of flesh a bit bigger than her hand. She lifted it out of the snow and held it up for her companion to see as well.

"What is this?" Sable asked, a slight tone of disgust coloring her voice.

"How clever!" Sionis said with astonishment, his voice just above a whisper. "Ingenious."

"Do you want to share your appreciation with me?" The assassin demanded.

"Do you not know what this is?" The mage asked in disbelief.

Sable shook her head in annoyance.

"It's a heart," he replied. "The heart of a minor daedra, I'm guessing. She must have. . . How do you not know what this is? Aren't you an assassin?"

"Yes, I am an assassin," Sable shot back in annoyance. "That means I kill people for money. I don't play with their insides afterwards."

Sionis mumbled an embarrassed apology and turned his gaze to the floor like a dog that knew his master was about to give it a good beating.

"Anyway, you were saying. . . She must have. . ."

The mage perked back up. "She must have used the snow to preserve it until the summoning day when she would need it to summon Boethiah. It's really quite clever."

"I see. So what do I do with this?" Sable replied, still holding the organ.

"Well, not knowing how long she's had it, I think it would be best if we re-pack it back in the snow to keep it as fresh as possible."

"Fine by me," she answered dumping it back in the chest. "Come on. Let's go gather some more snow."

Silence had settled in again as the two sat in the tent staring at the small fire, both looking for the answers they sought in the dancing and writhing of the flames. It was Sionis who finally spoke.

"So," his voice a death knell to the quiet, "about tomorrow. . ." He trailed off.

Sable looked over at him and waited a moment for him to complete is thought. "Yes, what about tomorrow?" She asked when it became clear he needed the prompting.

"I . . . uh . . . Is it possible to rescind a contract once the Dark Brotherhood has accepted it?"

"I don't know, Sionis. I'm not aware of it ever having been done." She answered, not liking the implications of his question. "Why? Why would you want to rescind the contract?"

"I was . . . just curious I . . . I guess."

"You're a terrible liar, Sionis," Sable replied, "What's really going on?"

The mage wiped in hand across the back of his neck and cast his gaze everywhere but her face, searching for some magic answer around the inside of the tent.

"Sionis," she cut in on his fidgeting, "Just tell me."

"Is there really any chance of actually killing Boethiah?" She leveled a mild glare at him at this question. "No, just answer," He pleaded. "I need to know before I can say any more."

"I don't know what will happen," she replied honestly though he couldn't understand the true meaning behind her words. "But I am going to go through with it."

He just nodded at that answer.

"Why do you ask?" She pressed.

"I . . . uh . . . I guess I would feel more comfortable with it if I knew there was some slim chance of us succeeding," he finally replied.

"I thought we understood that we had almost no chance of pulling this off right from the start," she chided, "and I thought it was understood that we were both okay with that. So what's changed?"

The dark blonde mage blew out a deep sigh before answering, "In a way, I led Clairiss to her death . . . and while I'm fine with dying in my attempt to avenge my sister, I'm not sure how I feel about leading yet another to their death along with me." As he finished, he gave her a pointed look to indicate she was the 'other' to which he was referring.

Sable threw her own look at him. "Sionis, I've told you before, you're not to blame for your sister's death. It was not you who chose to kill her. You didn't . . ."

"Would she have been there if not for me?" He asked her sharply, anger tainting his voice. "Would she have still been in their hands if not for me?"

"Maybe!" Sable shot back. "You can't know that. No, don't shake your head at me. It's entirely possible that a member of that skooma gang would have seen her and taken her just for the sport of it."

"You really think that could have happened?" He shot back, "They would have just randomly kidnapped someone on a whim?"

"It doesn't matter if that could have happened or not because that's not what did happen," the assassin answered, "What's in the past is in the past and there is no use worrying about could have or would have or might have happened. It's already done. But you're not the one that dragged the blade across her throat or poisoned her or whatever. You didn't choose that for her."

"Do you really believe that?" Sionis asked with a hopeful tone in his voice.

"That's how I see it," she answered firmly, "And I kill people for a living."

He didn't say anything to that. He just sat there, uncertainty painted across is features.

"If anything, you made every choice to keep her alive," Sable continued, "You could have just left her to the cartel and left to continue your own life."

"No," the mage said simply tears stinging his eyes, "No, I couldn't have done that."

"I'm not saying you're that kind of person. I'm saying that it was a choice that could've been made. But you didn't make that choice. You made the choice you thought was going to keep her alive."

"Um . . . thanks," the mage mumbled to her, "That does help, I think."

"And as for me," the assassin's voice now became stern, "you aren't leading me to my death. I may die tomorrow, but it won't be because of you. I accepted the contract and have been driving us forward every step of the way. I want to do this, Sionis. So clear your conscience of me. Nothing you do is changing what I'm going to do tomorrow."

Sionis nodded his agreement and the silence between them returned. Her words ran through his mind over and over again. He had always thought about the part he had played in his sister's death. He had never considered his actions from the perspective of trying to keep Clairiss alive. He almost chuckled at the irony of it; that an assassin – a dealer of death – had opened his eyes to his fight to keep someone alive.

"What was she like?"

Sionis startled and looked over at his companion questioningly.

"Your sister," Sable clarified, "what was she like?"

He smiled. "She was quite the troublemaker actually," he offered, "though she was not mischievous. It was her naivety that always got her into trouble. She was always shocked when she discovered someone was dealing with her with anything less than pure intentions." He paused a moment, his gaze never leaving the small fire. "And I was always the one to save her. She got me a lot of hard looks and reprimands that way, but I always protected her."

"Tell me about one," Sable requested. She wasn't sure why she had this sudden interest in his past, but if it kept him from the despair of losing his sister, then it served a purpose. At least she could tell herself that was why she wanted to know more about him.

"Well," he took a deep breath, "The one that probably got me in the most trouble is when I beat up the son of the Captain of the City Guard."

Sable's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Really? What did he do?"

"He was talking to her."

"Wait, just talking to her? You punched the kid out for talking to her!?"

"It wasn't just innocent talking," Sionis shot back defensively, "I know what he was really after. I could see it in the way he was looking at her."

"I see," the assassin said somewhat hesitatingly, "And what happened to you?"

"Well, I got to spend a day in the prison," he answered with a hint of mischief in his eyes, "His dad's way of trying to 'scare me into acting right'. And he also tried to have me thrown out of the Arcane University. Almost succeeded too."

"The Arcane University?" she asked, her voice full of confusion, "Isn't that in Cyrodiil?"

"Of course it is," Sionis answered, equally confused with his companion's question.

"You studied at the Arcane University?"

"Uh . . . yeah. Why wouldn't I have?"

"Because isn't there a school up in Winterhold?" Sable asked, "Why not study there?"

"Why would I study at the College of Winterhold?" Sionis asked incredulously, "The University was right there in my home town."

"Home town?" Sable's face screwed up in bewilderment as she pondered his statement. "Wait. You're not a Nord!?"

Sionis shook his head.

"You're tall enough to be one."

"I've heard that before," he smiled, "but no. I'm an Imperial. Just a really tall one."

"Guess that explains why you whine so much about the cold."

Sionis' mouth fell open. "Hey, it's cold up here," he protested, "And I don't whine . . . that much."

"You whine like a milk-drinker," Sable playfully chided and they both chuckled. "So then, what brought you to Skyrim?"

And just like that, his smile was gone. "A favor for a friend who got himself mixed up with a bunch of skooma dealers."

"I'm sorry," Sable offered and she shuffled closer to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He simply nodded.

"So that means you just recently came to Skyrim, then?" She asked after a moment of silence having thought about everything he had said.

"Depends on what you mean by recent," he offered with a half-hearted snort, "I honestly don't really remember exactly when I came. I simply rushed to the aid of my friend, and then ended up staying when they took Clairiss." He paused, thinking about it, "If I had to guess, I would say that it's been at least three years."

"Three years!?" Sable cried out, "They had you in their grip for that long?"

The mage sighed and nodded.

"You never made an attempt to escape them before me?"

He shook his head and his shoulder slumped.

"Why not?"

Sionis looked up at her then, his eyes rimmed with tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to. . ."

"Fear," he answered softly, "I let my fear control me."

Sable felt like she had been punched in the gut. Everything she feared about the speech Sionis had given her two nights ago was true. He really had set it up to gain power over her. He used her burgeoning trust in him to put himself over her. It had actually made so much sense and that was what made it so insidious. She had fallen for it because when she had really thought about it that night, she had thought he was right. She had thought that perhaps she could break away from all the endless power struggles. But it had been a carefully crafted ruse that showed her that she was actually far more powerless than she ever realized.

"You don't have to do that," Sable snapped, "I had already told you that you were right about that. And now that you've proven you were able to manipulate me so completely, you're gloating about it?"

"What!?" Sionis' face screwed up in confusion before turning to a mask of indignation upon realizing what she meant. "You really think I would go that far to manipulate you like that? That I would use, or even falsify, my own pain just to press a point? To Oblivion with you, Sable."

"I . . . I'm sorry," she finally said after a long pause.

"When I said those things to you two nights back, I was speaking from my own experience," Sionis explained, the anger not yet completely vanished from his voice. "I was still speaking to myself as much to you?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Has your life really been that despicable?" He questioned with a mixture of concern and skepticism. "Are you really that used to deception and manipulation that you assume it from everyone at all times?"

"I learned very early that it's either use or be used, you are either strong or weak, that in any situation you either exert power over them or they will overpower you," she explained, taking her time to make sure she found the right words. "It's not just deception and manipulation, it can be anything. Simply taking someone's life can be a way to ensure your power over them. So you train yourself to look for the upper hand with everyone in every situation. Look for anything they might use against you and then counter it. I expect lies because most people think they are powerful. In reality they are actually rather fragile. Once exposed, they have no power and they can't be taken back. The easiest way to defeat someone's lie is to call it out."

"Oh my . . ." the mage muttered under his breath.

"Manipulation is much harder to see, so it's a much more powerful tool," she continued, "Even if it's exposed, a lot of times you've already let the other person have power over you and then you must fight twice as hard to get it back. The weakness with manipulation is that there has to be some amount of trust in the other person in order for it to work. So it's best to never truly trust someone. That way you are armored against it.

"I'm sorry. That's why I reacted the way I did when you said that. It confirmed my fear that what you said that night was really just a manipulation in order to gain power over me. I haven't been able to shake the thought of it from my mind."

Sionis sat there stunned. Two things kept flashing through his mind. He wondered about just how disturbing her life must have been to have given her that kind of an outlook on life. With that in mind, he was quite overjoyed that he had gained her trust. He couldn't help look upon her with pity at that moment. While she had explained everything resolutely and with conviction, it was clear to him that she was just as broken – if not more so – as he was. His issues of getting mixed up with the cartel and his sister getting killed, seemed insignificant compared to hers that didn't allow her to see people as anything but evil that always sought to use her for their own purposes. He wasn't sure he wanted to know her views about love.

He realized he wanted to know all about her and share in it with her. She had shared in his pain over Clairiss and all his poor decisions that led to her death. It was his turn to share in hers. "Tell me how that happened," he said and then added at her slightly confused look, "Tell me what taught you those lessons."

"You may not like what you hear," she warned, though there was a hopeful twinge to her voice that begged him to listen.

"Don't hold anything back," Sionis reassured her.

Sable took a deep breath in and held it for just a moment before blowing it out in a nervous sigh. She sat there for a long while, working up the courage to tell Sionis what she had kept to herself her entire life. He never once attempted to prompt her or rush her. He simply sat patiently with a kind gaze toward her letting her know that she had his attention for as long as needed.

"I. . . I don't really remember my parents," she finally began, "And I don't remember how I lost them. My first real memories were of the inn keeper. His name was K. . ." her voice caught it took a moment for her to regain it. "His name was Kalvard. He had apparently took me in and gave me food and a warm bed to sleep in. It was . . . It was safe and comforting and generally a happy time I had with him. He simply asked that I helped out around the inn to 'earn my keep' he always said, though I knew he would never throw me out. At first, it was very minor things like helping to wipe tables or sweep up when I was little, but as I grew older he asked for more. Most of the time I would help take orders and bring people their food and drink. A few times, I even cooked." A small smile appeared for a brief moment.

"But when I turned thirteen," the smile was gone and her voice suddenly went weak, "he explained that he needed me to help him in others ways. He explained that all men needed to be pleasured and that he had no one to provide it to him. He told me that since I was coming of age, I would have to help him. At first it was just my hands that he needed, but it didn't stay that way. As time went on there were other things he needed of me. I was made to remove some of my clothing. Eventually I would remove all of my clothing. Eventually he did the same. All the time he assured me that it was normal; that it was acceptable and that most girls did the same, but there was always something that nagged at me that it was wrong. It didn't feel normal, but I went along with it because he no longer joked about me 'earning my keep' and straight out threatened to throw me out. I stayed and pleasured him night after night because I knew I had nowhere else to go."

There was another brief pause in her story where the only thing heard was Sable taking in deep breaths and blowing them out in order to keep her composure.

"Then he explained that he needed my . . . my," her voice cracked and it took a couple more sighs to continue, "he said he needed my mouth. He also got rough if I hesitated or said I didn't want to pleasure him or he just felt I wasn't 'giving it my all'. It all ended when I was . . . I guess I was about fifteen. He told me he needed me to pleasure him completely. He told me that he needed to lay with me. I refused and he beat me severely. I went to sleep that night with one eye nearly swollen shut, a cracked rib or two, my mouth full of my own blood.

"All the while he explained how he would always have power over me. That I belonged to him and he would use me as he saw fit or I would be punished. He waited a whole two days before pushing himself on me again. The swelling had gone down from my eye and my lip, but they still hurt to touch. I was still hesitant and so he . . . he tied me d-down and he . . . he . . . uh . . . he took me."

The assassin broke at this point, unable to contain the tears. Sionis drew her into his arms and just held her. It was then that he noticed she was shaking and he realized that her tears were not tears of sorrow or pain, but of rage and hatred. Still, he said nothing and she was grateful for that. She was re-living this part of her tortured life for the first time in close to ten years and she needed the anger to avoid being overwhelmed by it. And she realized that she had needed someone to hear it. Someone to listen to all that had been done to her and to realize what she had overcome. She needed someone to know that she had broken free of his power over her and had become something far more powerful despite it.

"That night," she finally continued and her voice was now as strong as steel, "I didn't go to sleep. I laid in my bed and plotted my first murder."

She went quiet again for another moment, waiting for him to pass judgment on her actions. He didn't say a thing; just continued to hold her even though the tears and the shaking had stopped. She took it as a sign to continue.

"The next day, while I was going about my duties, I snuck a knife from the kitchen. I kept it with me the whole day, jumping every time Kalvard spoke to me. I just knew that somehow he had found out about me hiding the knife and knew what I intended to do with it, but he just went about the day as though everything was normal. He was back to being the kindly, but stern inn keeper that was affording me food and a warm bed purely out of the kindness of his heart.

"I waited patiently through the whole day, trying my best to act as if nothing was wrong. Finally, it came time to act. Just after the busy-ness of the evening, I crept unseen into my room and waited behind my door. It seemed like it took forever for him to close down the kitchen and work his way back to my room. He didn't see me when he finally got there. My legs ached from keeping myself in a crouch the entire time, but that pain was gone the moment he stepped into the room. He whispered and then called for me, but when I didn't answer, he came into my room and then went to my chest where I kept my clothes that needed washing. He rummaged through it for a while until he found a pair of my small clothes. He lifted them to his face and inhaled deeply and that's when I snapped."

Sable reached up and wiped the sting from her eyes before they could become tears again and took a deep breath before continuing.

"I slammed my door shut and drew the knife I had been hiding and ran at him screaming," the tone of her voice now grew cold and emotionless as if she were just reading a new edict from a Jarl, "I must have surprised him, because he didn't move as I rushed him. When I got close enough, I jumped and smashed into him, bringing us both to the ground." She paused, "And then I stabbed him. I stabbed him over and over again. I stabbed him until I had no strength left to lift the blade anymore. It was then that I understood what he meant when he said he had power over me. I had taken his life and there was nothing he could've done to stop me. I realized then what power was and I promised myself I would never let anyone have power over me again. I fell asleep that night, covered in his blood and slept more soundly than I had in years.

"I woke to one of the other hirelings knocking on the door looking for Kalvard. Without thinking, I went and opened the door to my room. I had to kill him too when he saw Kalvard, or rather what was left of him, lying dead in my room. From there I changed my clothes and took that kitchen knife along with as much gold as would fit in my pockets and ran away. I lived as a wandering beggar for a while, stealing when I could and killing when I had to and sleeping wherever someone would let me."

"By the gods," Sionis couldn't help whispering. His companion said no more at that point. "I apologize," he added, correctly guessing that his companion feared his reaction to her story, "Please don't stop. I want to hear it all. How did you end up with the Dark Brotherhood? I guess they found you and took you in?"

"No, it didn't happen that way," he could tell by her voice that a small smile had found its way back to her face. "I simply roamed Skyrim looking for some place to call home again. Eventually I found my way to Riften and joined the Thieves Guild, but there was always something wrong about it. I didn't belong. They didn't understand how power truly worked. They didn't see what it was to take a life and it caused issues between me and the guild's leadership. Eventually Astrid did find me though and welcomed me into The Family and I truly found where I'm supposed to be."

When she finished, she climbed out of Sionis' embrace and move to look at him face to face. She wanted to see what judgment her past actions would bring to her. He still said nothing, just looking at her with a very strange look on his face.

"I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore," she finally offered up when she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Why would I want nothing to do with you anymore?" He asked, not in a confused sort of way, but in an almost scholarly manner that suggested he was most interested in how she answered.

She shrugged. "I just told you everything," she stated in a resigned manner, "You now know that I am just pretending. Kalvard showed me that I am weak." She paused to pull in a deep breath. "Sure, I killed him, but it was only a moment of strength. And it was something I ran from. A strong person would have stayed and faced it head on. I fled. And I've been fleeing ever since. Only pretending to be strong and powerful. I've never told anyone about Kalvard before because he exposes me as a lie. He exposes any strength I show as weakness."

At this admission, Sable's gaze fell into her lap and she slumped as if a great weight were pressing on her.

Sionis reached over and lifted her chin. His gaze bored a hole straight through her and a small knowing smile formed just before he spoke.

"Only a fool would have stayed to face certain death after having murdered your tormenter," he said quietly, but with conviction. "Kalvard appeared to everyone as a kindly innkeeper that took in a lost waif despite any hardship it caused him. They may or may not have believed your allegations about him."

"Maybe," Sable offered meekly, unconvinced of her companions words.

"In truth," Sionis continued, his hand having moved from her chin to gently holding her cheek, "it took strength to go out on your own without any support. You took what little you could and left, not knowing if it was sufficient or how you would make your way. And . . ." he paused to make sure she was looking at him rather than the ground, "you survived. You may have done things that are against the law or that I may not agree with, but you survived. You've even flourished now that you're with the Dark Brotherhood. That shows true strength. A weak person would have given up and let the world and death take them. But you didn't. You defied the odds and you defied everything that would label you as weak. The way I see it, Kalvard didn't expose you. He unleashed you."

Sable's face screwed up. "Are you saying what he did to me was a good thing?" A hard steely look came to eyes. "Are you saying I needed it or something like that?"

The mage's eyes went wide. "No," he entreated waving his hands in what would have been a placating gesture if not for the mild panic that had set in. "Divines, no, that's not what I'm trying to say. I would never wish what you experienced upon anyone and I am grieved it happened to you." He paused to collect his thoughts. "I apologize for a poor choice of words."

Her stare had softened somewhat, but was not gone.

"Who knows what would have become of you if that innkeeper hadn't assaulted you. You might be at that inn right now, cleaning dishes and washing bed linens. And maybe that would have been a nice life and you would have been happy." Sable made a face at that, but allowed Sionis to continue. "But that's not what happened. You went through something that was horrible and it's made you better. A person will only grow into their potential through challenge or trial. You have faced more already then most see in a lifetime. Perhaps that means you have more potential than others. Maybe it doesn't. You can't know that unless a person is tested. What it does mean, however, is that you have realized more of your potential than most. I'm not saying that what Kalvard did to you was a good thing. I'm saying that what you did with it was a good thing. You are who you are because of it and I wouldn't change a thing about you. I love you."

"You what!?" Sable exclaimed, her eyes opening wide.

"I . . . uh . . . I love you," the mage answered, his voice low, but unflinchingly steady.

"You can't love me," she protested, "I'm . . . I'm not lovable."

"Why would you say that?" Sionis asked, baffled by the statement.

She said nothing for a short while, searching for a suitable answer. She had to find a reason why he couldn't love her. His simple and confident admission threatened to consume her. She had to kill it quickly, or the power it could exercise on her would be overwhelming.

"I'm an assassin," she finally said, her voice filled with uncertainty, "I kill people for a living . . . and enjoy it."

"Is not your Family's leader married?" He asked pointedly, "To another assassin no less? I don't think your profession prohibits you from being 'lovable'."

"But, with everything I've done, how . . ." Her voice failed and a single tear escaped her crumbling façade and rolled down her face. "I . . . I'm not worthy of love. I can't be." The dam broke and she burst into sobs. "I was weak. And, and I still am. Just look at me now. Terrified of . . . of three little words. I . . . I don't deserve love. I . . ."

A gentle shushing from Sionis interrupted her. He gently took her chin his in hand and lifted her gaze to meet his.

"You overcame Kalvard and what he did to you," he explained gently. "That makes you strong. You overcame living as a beggar and thief. You overcame the alienation when living with the Thieves' Guild. You've overcome everything this contract has thrown at you as well. You're the strongest person I've ever met. And I love you."

"But . . ."

"Oh, for Oblivion's sake," Sionis muttered, cutting off another attempt at Sable refusing to acknowledge what he was telling her. "You are worthy of love. And if you can't hear it, let me show you."

And with that, he kissed her. It was gentle and soft; nothing like Kalvard's crushing assaults and it melted her consciousness. She felt the tension leave him and the confidence of the kiss grow as the blow to the side of his head – the result of the last time he had kissed her – never came. And then, there was nothing but his lips. Kalvard and her past were gone. Her search for acceptance and belonging and her subsequent finding it no longer mattered. His soft lips against hers was the only thing she knew. The mountaintop and the reason they were there faded away. Even the tingle of his stubble poking against her face left. The only thing she felt was the connection created between them. It went beyond a mere touching of lips. It transcended everything she had experienced and she no longer knew where she ended and he began. It was like their souls were touching, joining together and it was frightening and exhilarating and confining and freeing all at once. It sent shivers through her and it was maddening.

Finally, and yet much too soon, the mage pulled away. She opened her eyes, having not realized she had shut them and found that her breath was rather hard to come by. She didn't know what to make of what had just happened and everything she felt as a result, but she knew she wanted more.

Sionis held her gaze for a moment before nervousness overtook him. He cast his eyes into his lap and began fidgeting with his robes.

"I'm sorry . . . I was just getting frustrated and . . . well I . . ."

He was cut off by the assassin taking his chin in her hand and lifting his gaze to hers; just as he had done with her a short time ago. But she said nothing and just held him hostage in her stare. And then she kissed him.

Sable was sure that her kiss wasn't as gentle or wonderful as his had been, but somehow that made it better. The previous kiss was something that would never be duplicated and while it hadn't been the first time he had kissed her, it was the first time she had accepted it. It had been the first that was right. Now it was his turn to accept one from her.

The shivers returned as the kiss lingered and as their mouths parted and their tongues met, they turned into jolts of electricity slamming and fluttering pleasure through her. Once again everything she knew cracked into pieces and fell away. The two of them were all that existed; their melding together was all that mattered.

She found his hands with hers and brought them to her sides. She wanted him to touch her. No, she craved it. As their tongues caressed each other, she held onto him. She was lost in this and didn't want to be found. Sable realized that she loved kissing him and as she softly pushed him to ground decided that she wouldn't stop until the sun rose the next day.

Sionis woke to find himself tangled in a mess of bedrolls, blankets, and the limbs of a curvy assassin. He smiled, remembering the events of the previous night and began trying to slowly extricate himself from the discombobulation. The cold air of the morning stung his skin and he shivered. He looked to the fire pit to find that it was mainly ashes. There would be no rekindling of it without more wood. Shivering again, he made his way over to the tent flap and peeled back a corner to take a peek at the day.

It was no longer snowing and the sun was shining brightly. The snow storm had blown off as quickly as it came and it looked like it was going to be a clear and bitterly cold day. The mage thought that it would somehow been more fitting if the sky was overcast and menacing. After suffering yet another wave of shivering, Sionis closed the tent flap and found his robes and hurriedly dressed himself.

Still finding it a bit cold, he went out and grabbed one chunk of wood from the pile and put it into the fire pit, igniting it with magic. He then went over to Sable and ran his hand through her stark white hair, garnering a hum of contentment from her. He wanted to wake her, but wasn't sure how to proceed. She had finally been completely open with him and he was afraid of doing or saying anything that would close her back up.

"Uh . . . it's morning," he finally offered awkwardly.

She stirred and smiled. Her face turned to him even before her eyes opened. When they did, her countenance fell.

"It's morning?" Her voice and eyes were filled with dread. She just laid there looking like she was caught in a trap and even pulled the blankets tighter around her.

The abrupt change in her demeanor caught the mage off guard. Was there something he had done? Had he pushed too hard last night?

"Are you okay?" He asked hoping to all the Divines she wasn't retreating after the wonderful night they had had. She had finally opened herself up to him and seeing that part of her person had been amazing. He didn't want anything to drive her back behind her walls. "Is it . . . what we did . . .?"

At the fear in his voice, her face softened. She lifted a hand a tenderly stroked his cheek.

"No," Sable quietly assured him, "I regret nothing from last night." She paused a moment, her eyes searching. "I . . . I'm going to try to kill a god today. I guess I didn't have to think about that much up until now. At times, it seemed as if we simply wouldn't find a way to even confront Boethiah. And now we're here. And there is quite the ordeal before us."

Sionis wasn't sure he believed her. The look she had worn had been one of terror, not trepidation. Why were the walls coming back up? He had thought that they had moved past her needing to hide from him.

"Sable, please don't do this again," the mage begged. "Tell me what's really going on. No more walls, please."

"I'm afraid, Sionis!" She shot back. "I don't want to die. I'm afraid to die." She, then related to him her encounter with the priest of Arkay and the subsequent dream. She told him how – with a few simple words – he had brought her face to face with her own mortality and how it had shaken her. She told him about how she had woke up screaming later that night. She had been screaming for her own life and how it had so shaken the Family that two of them, Gabriella and Babette, had kept a vigil over her, forcing her to sleep with calming magic. She told him how it still haunted her; how it had driven her to recklessness, trying to best Arkay, the God of Birth and Death. She told him how she had begged Babette to turn her into a vampire and therefore cheat death. And she told him that she had taken his contract to kill the Prince of Plots as a way to prove that Arkay would not hold sway over her and that if she could actually do it, she would be a legend and her name would live on forever.

"And now we are about to summon her with the sole purpose of pissing her off." She smiled and gave a slight chuckle at that statement. "Yes, I am afraid."

"I'm sorry," Sionis said, bowing his head, casting his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry I got you mixed up in my need for vengeance. You can leave if you want."

"And what about you?" She asked, afraid she already knew the answer.

"I will stay," he replied plainly. "I am going to see this through, but I won't ask you to take up a cause that isn't yours."

"I'm staying too," Sable declared lifting his gaze to meet hers. "You performed the Black Sacrament and you made a contract. I'm bound by the tenets of the Dark Brotherhood to kill Boethiah or die trying." She paused and a smile lit her face. "Besides, you wouldn't make it a second without me."

A short time later, the pair once again stood before the imposing statue of Boethiah. They had retrieved the heart from the chest and were now standing before the small altar, both working up the nerve to start the summoning ritual. Finally with a deep breath (and really not wanting to hold the organ anymore), Sable stepped forward and plopped it on the small stone dais located at the base of the effigy of the Daedric Lord of Sedition.

"Based on what I could get out of the journal, you need to stab the heart," Sionis voiced just above a whisper. "I still have no idea what the 'betray' part means though, so hopefully this is all that is needed."

A pained expression flashed across Sable's face, unseen by her companion. For all his brilliance with magicka, he could be incredibly slow to catch on to some things when he wanted. With a sigh, she slipped one of her daggers from its sheath and plunged it into the small mass of flesh, wincing at the squelching sound it made.

Nothing happened. There was no darkening of the sky, nor was there any thunder or lightning to mark that the deity had even noticed. It was so anticlimactic, Sable almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Sionis, on the other hand, stood befuddled, trying to think of what he got wrong, and how on Nirn they might be able to try again once he could work out the solution.

The pair turned to leave and were nearly to the far side of the wide circular area that lay out before the statue when a loud voice, matronly yet full of malice broke the silence.

"Champion," it boomed, "I accept your offering."

They both turned to face the statue once more. While its source was undoubtedly the towering stone monument, the voice had seemed enveloping, oppressing them from all sides.

"There is but one thing yet needed in order to bring me to the mortal plane."

Sionis took a step back from the sheer magnitude of the voice's presence. His stare was trained on the stone face of the Daedric Prince, suddenly knowing this endeavor had been a huge mistake.

"Kill your useless companion. Murder him in my name and bring me to Nirn that I might reward you."

The mage's jaw dropped open. Instantly, he understood what the journal meant by "betray". In order to summon Boethiah to the mortal world, the summoner had to betray a friend. If Sable really meant to take on the Daedric Prince, then she would have to kill him.

"Sable? . . ."

"Sionis," she interrupted, her voice full of pain and remorse. "I love you, Sionis."

Sionis noticed her right hand slip her dagger from its sheath again.

"DO IT!" Boethiah's voice boomed louder than any thunder.

Sable whirled around, closing the one step of distance between them and sunk the blade into his side to the hilt.

His eyes went wide. At first it was cold. It felt like he had been stabbed with a sliver of ice. Then came the pain and then, strangely, it faded and there was nothing. He felt nothing at all. He had lost all feeling as well as the strength to stand. He would have fallen to the ground had it not been for Sable still holding him.

She leaned and kissed him then. It was gentle and urgent at the same time.

When she broke the kiss and pulled back, he saw a single tear running down her face.

"I'm sorry Sionis," she whispered before letting him go.

And then he did fall to the ground. He felt no pain as he landed. The lingering feel of her lips pressed against his was the last sensation to go. He just laid there trapped in an unmoving body. His vision, involuntarily locked onto the swirling vortex of purple and black energies that erupted outward to reveal an armor clad woman with yellow, gleaming eyes holding a large battleaxe in one hand and a shield in the other standing at the base of the statue.

Boethiah laughed a vicious laugh. "I AM HERE!" She roared with glee. "Champion, come to me to receive what you deserve."

The dark goddess turned to face where Sable should be standing and that's when the arrow slammed into Boethiah's head right above her right eye.

The Daedric Lord screamed in rage.

A/N: Next up: The fight with Boethiah! Feel free to leave a review and let me know how I'm doing.