Sun's Height 1, 4E1

(Fights-up-close): Skingrad, Summitmist Manor

The door upstairs came open. Neville was fully suited in Imperial Legion armor, presenting hardly a single spot of vulnerability or opportunity. He also had a mace in his hands. For a brief second, I wanted to cringe at the brutal power such heavy weaponry looked like it could hold. I could imagine it cracking my skull with little resistance

"Well, well," Neville said, a hint of bitter laughter in his voice as he peered straight into my eyes "look who's here. It's my number one suspect in two cold-blooded murders. I'm watching you, scum." He started to walk down the stairs though his ominous comment continued to simmer within me. I tried to internally debate whether to step out of his way or unflinchingly stand my ground, as was my usual policy, but my thoughts were silent. The sight of him in that heavy armor was enough to intimidate me, and I stepped out of his way, though hated myself immediately afterwards. None the less, I had to dig deeper than normal to see right from wrong in this situation, considering I was undercover.

"Primo," Neville said in an infuriatingly calm voice "we need to talk. Privately." I turned to see Primo's reaction, silently rooting for it to demoralize Neville. Primo was wide-eyed, and backing up, but, though his voice shook with the fear he was trying to conceal, he made an effort to not be completely submissive.

"Two people are dead, and for all I know, you could have killed them!" He shouted, "Just leave me alone you worthless peasant!" I was thoroughly glad to see him handle it with some bravery, as well as see I'd been convincing. I was kind of hoping for Neville's response to allow this all to blow up and end here.

Neville grabbed Primo by the arm, again, calmly as his armor warranted him to be, then said, holding his anger between his teeth "If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead. Now come with me!" And began leading him upstairs. There was no struggle from anyone. Other than their footsteps, there was silence, mocking us.

Dovesi and I simply stood in stunned silence. I could feel my hand quivering in the response to the, meaningful and unexpected developments that were taking place. Did I really just witness someone being taken off to be murdered while we were helplessly trapped in a locked house? No, I had to remember who I was. This boded poorly in worse ways.

There was silence from my violated mind. I'd been horribly outdone already. Neville had brought a weapon and full suit of armor, and now planned on talking to Primo for Sithis knows what. Whatever it was, I wouldn't trust him when he wasn't in my presence.

I turned to Dovesi, who was holding a silver carafe the way I was holding the ceramic vase. Now we looked utterly ridiculous, not like an intimidating fighting force. I could tell she thought this would be the last we saw of Primo unless we attempted a nearly impossible rescue. I knew hwo she felt: this would be her test, the moment in her life that decided if she lead an unordinary one that wwould be remembered by those she didn't know.

"I...I wanted to get to know him. Be his friend. Maybe...maybe more. I can't believe he's gone."

"He's not gone yet. Just a second, I need to think." I said, trying to ignore all other distractions and bring back the right memories, both of events and epiphanies that might lead me on to what to do next. Inevitably, I wanted to "rescue" Primo, but whether I should go alone, possibly kill him and blame it on Neville again, or bring Dovesi, so we could both attack Neville, was a question I'd need answered fast. So far I'd been satisfied with the strategies I'd been using, but I need another epiphany for the next step.

If I went up with Dovesi, I might be taking Neville on 3 to 1. However, whoever survived, I would still need to take on. No more pieces of reason came into my head, so I tried to think about my other option.

If I went up by myself, I could kill Primo myself and blame it on Neville. Or probably not, because I doubted they'd be in separate rooms. Basically, I would have a stealth advantage, but would be taking Neville on 2 to 1. That would also mean I'd need to deal with Dovesi later. That put the idea of going up with Dovesi ahead.

There was a flash of confidence and satisfaction at the epiphany, but soon this emotion went away. I felt I needed to check my logic again. The last conclusion I came to was that I'd have less guests to deal with by charging in with Dovesi. So yes, that meant taking Dovesi was right. But this time, it felt less confident. I decided to check over my logic again, and was immediately assaulted by seemingly ridiculous questions. Or was this my strategical mind going to new levels?

Do I have evidence that I wouldn't need to take on as many guests if we all charged at Neville? Do I know stealth isn't more important than numbers?

Immediately I felt frustrated. I wanted to do this before I forgot the decision I'd made. I left the nagging and annoying questions unanswered, but found the incident somewhat disturbing. Was I over-thinking tactics just when they came to matter the most? Was I wearing out that part of my mind from overuse? Dovesi knew none of my internal conflict. I had to wonder how many other people had such a stormy mind

"Okay, Dovesi, we're going to need to get up there and rescue Primo together." I said, immediately taking the role of commander in our little force, though it felt totally fake, like this was some kind of game. "Just stay close to me, and do what I do."

I beckoned her to the stair case, and got back into my sneaking position. I had learned to use every inch of this small, stairs case to my advantage now. Each movement I made had a purpose. Dovesi, was of course, less experienced in the arts of stealth. I wasn't really worried about her revealing us, though. In fact, it would be better if this resulted in a bloody battle.

I slowly opened the door. I could already hear yelling in the room to my left, where Neville had spent most of his time and was now probably interrogating Primo.

"She's upset, you buffoon!" Primo shouted through the walls "Just like the rest of us! I hope you're not suggesting she could be the killer." For some reason, I had a mysterious urge to smile at seeing such strong emotion I'd caused. But then I realized something less pleasant:

I knew it wouldn't bode well for me if this conversation continued. I knew Neville wasn't the killer, and I didn't want Dovesi to know he was just interrogating him. I had to push everything else aside and, with an animal like simplicity in my state of mind, burst through the door, shunning cowardly impulses and using my free will to make sure this justice saw through before the risks started to sink in. I just had to hope I wouldn't be taking Neville on alone.

I burst through the door

I caught only a brief glimpse of the situation I'd been listening in on before I made contact with Neville's armor. Primo was seated on a wooden bench, Neville standing tall over him. A pose I was used to seeing in interrogation.

Soon I'd been in world of confused and aimless destruction. I dived straight for Neville. We both fell to the ground, his metal helmet hitting the wooden front of a bed. It would have normally been pretty painful for him, but his blasted armor made him nearly invincible. How they could even shape the metal like that was another mystery. If I survived this, I never wanted to see another suit of Legion armor again. This wasn't a slow-paced contest of skill like a sword fight. I was just feeling around wildly in countless ways for some possibility of getting the armor off.

I started tugging at his helmet, and finally managed to slide it off. His soft, vulnerable head was exposed, giving me my opportunity. Unfortunately, Neville had managed to stretch his hand far enough to grab his mace during that time. Knowing there'd be an impending strike, I rolled out of the way, my joints uncomfortably moving against the hard floor. Within a couple of seconds I was on my feet, though a couple of seconds felt like an age long test of luck during combat, as the situation could move to your enemies advantage easily during that time. And it did.

Neville lifted his arm for a second strike on me, the mockery the weapon would make of my skulls ability to protect my brain instantly registered.

Before I could reflect any further, however, Neville's arm was tugged at from behind by Dovesi, causing him to stumble backwards amid the confusion. It was a much more chaotic and diverse fight than I was sure he was used to. But that was the bitter beauty of a job like mine; it had no limits. It could become a test of every aspect of someone.

Legs and arms flailing on both sides, Neville's fell onto his back, though of course he remained physically unharmed. His armor was doing an infuriatingly good job. Nonetheless, Dovesi still had that carafe, and was ready to strike Neville's now exposed head. Neville managed to strike first, with a merciless brutality acquired in a life or death situation. Hitting the girl in the head, she fell down, all resistance instantly nullified with her broken skull, hitting the ground with a thud just as ruthless.

I had little time to reflect on this, as Neville was soon once again advancing with frightening speed and naked ferouscity.

At an even more amazing speed, thoughts of life and death went through my head as I continued to back pedal, ultimately stumbling over something behind me. I was in a moment of fright and shock before hitting my head hard on the stone wall. So many forces were working against me at once. It must have only been a fraction of a second before there was a blur heading towards Neville. Neville, unlike the time I had dived at him, managed to learn from his mistake and turn around. I did my best to ignore the pain that was constantly pushing on my thoughts, hoping its unforgiving nature would soon wear out. I watched the fight between him and Primo carefully, wondering how I should interfere.

The two men immediately began locked in contest of strength, both grimacing, trying to squeeze out all their strength to knock the other down. But Neville soon changed the terms of engagement and outwitted the young noble, delivering a solid punch to the side of his head with the metal knuckles his armor, who fell down, like Dovesi, in ominous silence. Two fates sealed.

There was only one guest left now (not including myself), but I could hardly have thought of a worse situation I could have gotten myself into. I was unarmed, unarmored, and the opposite was true of my opponents. As Neville advanced, I felt light-headed. I felt like my thoughts were drifting every which way, no longer anchored into place.

"So, here we both are. Retired Imperial Legion officer and hired assassin." Neville said as he got closer. I hadn't even gotten up, I didn't even dare. It would only bring his mace closer to my head. There was pain in various parts of my body, but I could only wait for that to pass. In the meantime, I needed a solution "So, who do you work for? The Morag Tong? The Dark brotherhood?" I was silent. "No matter. I've faced your kind before. You're cowards. You use stealth and lies to destroy innocent lives!" I could feel that usual destructive energy flowing through every fiber of my body at his arrogance to hijack the name of justice, but I was helpless to do anything about it. It seemed like I might truly be defeated. "All of that ends now! Prepare to meet your doom!" The words seemed all too real.

I managed to role out of the way of his first blow, my body uncomfortably moving across the edges of the chest I'd managed to land on. I was corned now. Painfully shifting my weight around, I managed to get out my dagger, but it increased my chances only the slightest bit.

Neville pulled back for what would be the last swing I'd ever see. I'd be in the void the instant it hit my head, finally seeing what awaited me for eternity. But then I noticed something; he'd lifted his left leg off the ground. I locked my foot behind his leg and pulled, causing him once again to trip. But the problem remained; I was just buying time that way. It seemed I would eventually have to meet my last moments in this house.

Then I saw a slight irregularity on a desk across from me. A thin glinting...something...It was the sword I'd used to kill Matilde! Neville had been examining it.

I leapt over Neville, who was temporarily on the ground, and a crashed into the desk, unable to slow myself in time. Still, I managed to grab the sword and swiftly turnaround.

Neville was already on his feet, rearing back from another swing. In a smooth, instinctual movement, put my sword out to meet his mace. It hit my sword hard, so hard it nearly caused me to slit my own throat, but I'd managed to block his swing none the less. My hands were enduring an odd prickling sensation, and I was still shaken by the close call, but Neville was disoriented. This was my chance.

I made a swing for his unarmored head. Success. Neville grasped his throat with a look of over-powering anguish. I watched justice take its course, doing its best at the hard task of repaying him for 20 years in the Legion with less than a day in this house, before he tumbled to the ground. His head finally laid to rest on the elegant carpet.

I realized what I mess this had made of the fine house. Then I noticed the cold sweat and heart beat that had built up inside me during the battle as my mind drifted out of combat mode. It had been a very close call. I'd almost forgotten what true fear felt like. It might be time I devoted some of the hours I spent in the sanctuary with boredom and self-pity to studying some defensive spells. Not necessarily destruction, but illusion.

However, the bodies of Primo and Dovesi soon caught my attention as well, lying still with a certainty of death itself. Their last moments had captivated my thoughts. I stood there, entranced in reflection, their last moments running through my mind again and again. Had they both saved my life, and sacrificed their own in the process intentionally?

Suddenly an immense pity came over me. Had they died true heros, which, ironically, meant they died with no intention of recognition and got none? That was brutal cruelty of the way a courageous soul with a devotion to justice worked. It was nearly impossible, painful even, to imagine making such a decision, yet they did. I wondered if I could have made such a decision. My first thought was a solid "No.", but I soon knew the only thing I could allow myself to think was "yes". For a flash, I hated it all. What if my superiors had been wrong about those two deserving death? Would I need to burden myself with their decisions as well as their tasks? Analyze the world every second of the day? It seemed utterly hellish.

I was surprised at how quickly all that had come to me at once: But I had to ignore the painful epiphany. My thoughts had no doubt gotten disordered from the time I spent outside my safe haven, the sanctuary. I would need to shun these thoughts, as they might all sort themselves out, and seem like a simple fever dream later. Yes, that faith was beautiful. But why did everything suddenly seem so...unstable? Was my mind haunted and tormented by Goes-in-heavy's ghost? Maybe. I needed to shun these thoughts.

I had succeeded on my mission. I had to trust that the doorman had already sorted out all the details.

A/N: Sorry the Argonian Royal Court hasn't gotten much attention recently. Her buddies back home will start showing up in the story again soon enough. Anyway, the plot should really start to pick up soon, as we get closer to the end, when I'll begin taking a lot of liberties again.