A/N Happy New Year! Thank you all for reading, and I especially thank my reviewers xXlvana BraginskiXx and goldenmoonlight007. =)

Chapter 8

Darkness, impenetrable darkness; it surrounded me, engulfing me in its black depths. Suddenly, I was aware of chains on my arms and legs, of clothes pressing against my skin, of the sound of water dripping into a puddle. I tried to open my eyes, to move my head, but every movement resulted in pain flaring up in the back of my skull. What happened?

Amazingly, I managed to finally open my eyes, after a few moments of silent pain. The world was hazy at first, but soon the images cleared, revealing a small stone room. It was cold and damp, and I was conscious of the water I had heard earlier dripping into a small, clay pitcher. It was sitting atop a small, rickety, wooden table. Next to the table was a three-legged stool, which had presumably lost a leg sometime in the past. What little light could be seen was provided by a tiny, barred window and a single candle outside a rusty iron gate. Where am I? This is certainly not the Sanctuary... My brain was having a hard time putting this room to words. I knew this place, yet I couldn't identify it. Then, it hit me. I'm in the Imperial Prison! How did I end up here?

Suddenly, the images came swarming into my mind, remembering my journey, my decoy, my last thoughts before I was knocked out. The rush of pictures sent my head spinning, resulting in a worse headache. I gritted my teeth, but a groan still escaped me.

"Ah, you're finally awake," a voice from outside the cage echoed to my sensitive ears. An Imperial in jailor's apparel appeared behind the bars. "John!" I winced as he shouted, the sudden noise sending me into a worse state of pain than I already was in, "this one's awake. Get the Captain!"

I was left in a wonderful silence while the one called 'John' fetched the captain of the guard, I assumed.

My first failed contract. But how did they know when I would be there? How did they know who I would kill? Did I simply make a mistake, or was I betrayed? Was it the person who attacked my Family members? Did they hold a grudge against the Dark Brotherhood? Unfortunately, neither Gogron nor M'raaj-Dar could identify their attacker, so we never knew who to hunt.

Undoubtedly, the Black Horse Courier would have picked up on this one pretty quickly. 'Dark Brotherhood assassination foiled by alert guards,' it probably would have read. Had I not been chained up like an animal, I would have moved to sit in the corner. Alas, I was tied so that when I sat on the floor, my hands would be raised above my head. Lying down was out of the question.

I felt something pressing lightly against my breast. Ah, my old friend, I smiled as I thought of the small but strong lockpick hidden in my smallclothes. It had always aided me when I was sitting in a cold cell after an unfortunate burglary.

"She's in here, Sir," I heard a voice echoing through the building.

"Ah, the 'famous' Nightshade is finally in chains," an Imperial in Captain's armour stood at the open gate. So, I have a name amongst the people. "Tell me, is this how you imagined your future to be when you first joined that guild of bandits?"

"The Dark Brotherhood is better than a guild of bandits! We kill only those who deserve it," I spat at him. This one looks quite deserving of a good knife to the eye.

"Do you really believe that? It is a pity for one as young as you to be in such a dreadful place. I come here now to offer you your freedom," he chuckled slightly at my raised eyebrow.

"You scum don't offer a valuable prisoner freedom without an anchor attached to their leg," his chuckle turned to a dark laugh.

"You shouldn't use such insults," he clicked his tongue at me, "and what makes you think you're valuable?"

"I'm not as daft as you think I am; I know you need the information I have, but I won't tell you for all the gold in Tamriel!" anger showed in his eyes briefly, but was replaced by a smug expression.

"Ah, but we already know everything," he threw a leather-bound book on the table. My journal, I realized. "So why don't you just tell us the rest, and you'll be free," frustration swept across his face as I started to laugh.

"My, my, my! Aren't you a good actor! I would have believed you, had I not known that my journal," I nodded my head at the book, "is written in a language only I understand in the whole of Cyrodiil," my laughter was entirely humourless. Well, I corrected myself silently, I'm one of two living people who can desipher it, the third having died some time ago.

The captain's face turned red in a fit of anger.

"Torture her! See if we can't beat the information out of her," he turned on his heel and stormed out of the cellblock.

Hours upon hours of torture went by in a haze of pain, and when they finally ceased, the captain came again.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" his every move showed frustration.

I smiled at him, seeing the anger flare up at my amusement. "I wouldn't bother with all this torture nonsense if I were you; for I will tell you everything I know when I'm an Orismer princess in Oblivion!" I think I might have gone a little mad again. The first time was long ago, when I had journeyed across Lake Rumare searching for a rumour and finding a god.

"We'll see," was all he said as he walked away in a forced calm state.

~{::}~

It had been three days and the captain was getting restless. Not only had I said nothing, but he had gathered that I was also one of the highest ranking assassins in my Sanctuary. Luckily, he didn't know where that Sanctuary was, or he would have had no need for me. He wanted names, locations and details, and I was content in answering his questions with witty remarks. Somehow, I retained some of my sanity by listening to the birds outside my window, counting the stone blocks in my cell and drawing pictures in the dust.

There was a man in the cell across from me. He was muttering angrily and pacing to and fro, back and forth, in his little cage.

"So," I said, trying to take my mind off of what was to come, "what are you in for?"

"So I wanted revenge; so I wanted him dead! I contacted the Dark Brotherhood and the guards came in and threw me in here!" his eyes burned with anger. "That bastard is going to pay once I'm out of here. Rufio's going to pay for what he did to my daughter!"

"Worry not, friend," I said softly, though loud enough so that he could hear me, "the deed is done and Rufio has payed the price for his acts."

The man turned to me, "you... you're the one they threw in here for the Umbacano incident! You're the assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!"

"I am indeed. I saw to your contract personally. Rest easy, friend. Mourn your child in peace," I felt sorry for this man; he only wanted revenge, but soon, as I myself had realized, he would know that revenge was not the answer to his problems, it would not bring his daughter back nor would it give him peace of mind.

Relieved, he sat in the corner, head bowed, and was silent for many an hour, leaving me to my ponderings.

I wondered if or when I could escape. Either my Family had not received news of my capture, or they couldn't rescue me yet. Hoping that the former was right, I awaited my next round of torture with a resigned mind.

But the torturers didn't come, only a guard with food and water, which I hadn't been allowed for the past few days. Even the stale bread and mouldy cheese tasted good to my starved tongue. I drank the water as if it were the sweetest substance on Nirn. But that was an idiotic thing to do, for too late I realized that the water had been spiked with a paralysis potion.

The captain came and performed a new method of torture, one that took all of my resolve to overcome. I don't know how I survived, but somehow, I did. After he was done, a couple guards came in and unchained me from the wall, but the cuffs on my hands remained, as they held a Silence spell. I curled up in the corner, staring into nothingness, waiting for the bliss of sleep to overcome my tired and defiled body and soul.

~{::}~

Lucien sat at his table, pouring over all the reports and new contracts that plagued him every day. He sipped at his wine as he read another report about a Dark Brother being killed by the traitor. There were notices of completed contracts from Ocheeva and Vicente, and yet Eveandil's was noticeably absent. This worried him slightly, for she had never spent more than a few days without reporting on her progress.

He sighed slightly. She had been on his mind since the encounter in the Training room over a month ago. Why, he did not know. She was a good assassin, probably the best he had seen for some time, but that was not the reason. Perhaps it was the way she had shown utter devotion to her Family as she searched for a cure for M'raaj-Dar and Gogron, or the way she carried out every contract with skill and pleasure. Or was it the quiet sadness in her eyes as she spoke to him of her family. Maybe, it was something else.

He had no time to dwell on the thought, as suddenly the trapdoor opened, revealing the Listener.

"Welcome, Listener. I did not expect the pleasure of your acquaintance," Lucien bowed his head respectfully.

"Lucien, I received a report a few days ago; I think you should know this. One from your Sanctuary has been captured during a contract and is currently being held in the Imperial City Prison," Ungolim began, nervous and angry.

"I have received no such note. Of whom do you speak?" Lucien felt a pang of dread, wondering if the captured assassin was who he was thinking of.

"I'm afraid she's the one that was sent on the Umbacano assignment. Eveandril, I believe," Lucien stood at the words.

"How did this happen?"

"It seems the guards were tipped off as to when and where the deed would take place and who it would be performed by. My sources say that she was paralysed and silenced when they dragged her to the prison," Ungolim watched Lucien carefully. "I think this is the work of the traitor," he added in a low voice.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Lucien motioned for Ungolim to sit, and poured a glass of wine for both of them.

"Lucien, I think we should get her out of there. They have been using outlandish methods to try to extract information from her..."

"Has she said anything yet?" Lucien interrupted the Listener.

"No, she's remained silent where others would have broken long ago," Inwardly, Lucien sighed with relief. "She's good, that one, a valuable assassin," this was a surprise, especially coming from Ungolim's mouth; he never praised anyone above a 'not bad.'

"The best," Lucien added quietly.

Ungolim either did not hear, or ignored the remark and continued, "for the sake of the Brotherhood's secrets, I think we should get her out of there."

"What methods are they using to extract this information?" said he as Ungolim shifted uncomfortably.

"I will tell you later, for I am in a hurry; I must be in Bravil by tomorrow evening. I put you in charge of the rescue."

"I'll send someone immediately."

"Good; I'll be back to discuss another matter, but that can wait until the girl's returned safely. Good luck, Lucien," Ungolim stood.

"May the Night Mother watch over you, honoured Listener," Lucien bowed his head in respect of Ungolim and the Listener climbed the ladder and disappeared into the night.

Hours of wondering who to send led to only one answer, Lucien would go himself.

~{::}~

Another day, another session, pain to me, pleasure to him; that's what happens when a pretty Elven lass is caught, whether murderer or thief. He came every day, and haunted my dreams at night. This torture was almost unbearable; I've never encountered anything like it. Should I consider myself lucky that the captain has forbidden the other guards from touching me? Or should I be hapless, for they will not end my sufferings? These are dark days indeed. All I could think about was an end to this torture, whatever that may be, but I would never betray the Brotherhood, no matter what. I'd die first.

I would have escaped much sooner, had they not been watching me like a bitch over her pups. Also, these cuffs held a powerful Silence spell, preventing me from casting any sort of magic.

The sound of metal on stone announced the arrival of the guard who supplied the prisoners with food and water. Today, though, he passed my cell. So, they've given up on trying to poison me. Ever since the first encounter with the paralysis poison, I'd avoided all food and water, but they kept supplying it, tempting me.

In the moments of quiet after the guard left, but before the captain arrived, I sought my Spirit for the first time since I met the Brotherhood.

Oh Spirit! What is to happen to me? Will I ever survive this place?

"Worry not, child, for help is on its way. Stay strong and you will survive. Remember this place, for greatness lies in wait," the deep voice of my Spirit was a relief from all the rough dialects the guards had. But its final remark made little sense to me. Then again, my Spirit had always been vague when talking of the future.

Birds tweeted outside the small window of my cell. I stood and looked out the tiny opening, watching the birds of many feathers dancing together on the wind. How I wished I was flying with them instead of watching from a prison.

Shouts, the clanking of metal and the scraping of locks told of the change of the guard. The Imperial guard I hated the most, besides the captain of course, stood outside my cell and began his three-hour shift.

"Hello there, I hope the accommodations are comfortable," he always taunted me, trying to loosen my tongue in anger. "How long have you been here? Five days? A week? And still your little friends do not help you. Now why would that be?"

"How do you know they're not here?" I moved closer, laying a hand on one of the bars. Movement showed in the corner of my eye, almost invisible. "My Brother or Sister might be standing right behind you, waiting for the opportunity to strike."

"Bah! You won't scare me with your fables and lies!"

"How do you know I'm lying? For all you know, a friend of mine might have their dagger at your throat, but you won't know it until you feel the blood draining from your body, see the lovely sanguine of your life fall onto the floor, your lifeless body soon following," as if on cue, a cut suddenly appeared on the guard's neck. He clutched at the wound as blood poured out onto his hands and light brown hair, staining them red. I smiled slightly as a cloaked, hooded figure materialized just outside the bars.

Lucien picked the lock on the door with deft hands and soon he was removing the cuffs from my hands. We needed no words, for we knew what had to be done; talking would only jeopardise our situation. There was time for explanation later, when we were out of this hell-hole.

I attempted to cast my Chameleon spell, but lack of food and water enhanced the weakened state I was already in from the torture, so I couldn't cast even the simplest of spells. A small grunt of annoyance was the only sound he made before grabbing my arm and casting his own spell. I felt the spell falling over us like a cloak.

We slipped into the main office of the building. Upon entering, I was hit by a wave of nausea and dizziness. My limbs felt heavy, as if they were drawn to the ground, and my head spun and pulsated. I nearly collapsed, but he held me up, gently guiding me towards the door to the outside world.

We crept out of the building, never breaking contact, for I would become visible to everyone if that was the case. I needed much support from him, as my body was damaged from the methods they used to extract information. It felt strange to be the one needing help instead of supplying it. I was also used to having to carry my own weight and not have a hand to help me when in need.

The guards did not hear us, nor did they see us.

When out of the Imperial Prison, he pressed a small ring into my hand. It was one of my disguises - the tin ring.

"We have everything from your room at Luther's back in the Cheydinhal Sanctuary," he explained quietly as we skirted the building to the far side of the prison. Ahead of us there was a steep decline to where his horse was waiting. I slipped on the ring and followed him- well, more fell after him- down the hill. Once at the bottom, we mounted Shadowmere and rode as fast as she would take us in the direction of Cheydinhal.

I remember little of that journey, for most of the time I was either sleeping or in a hazed state of exhaustion. What I do recall, though, was hard riding through the night until the sun kissed the eastern sky, of his arms around me so I wouldn't fall out of the saddle.

We arrived at Fort Farragut one morning just as the pink of dawn showed on the horizon.

Lucien helped me to the trapdoor, and soon I felt warm blankets around me and as the darkness beckoned, I finally felt safe.