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The ceiling of the Bravil Inn had one warped board in it. This was a detail Lana couldn't help but fixate on every time she awoke from her otherwise sound sleep. With this board out of place, Lana worried the ceiling would be unsound and possibly collapse in on her. It seemed like a simple thing to fix, but never having constructed a building before, Lana couldn't really say.
Staring at this one out of place wooden plank in the ceiling, Lana finally expressed what was bothering her. Where was Lucien LaChance? Why had he not come?
A thousand worries filled her mind. She had gotten away with killing Rufio without anyone noticing, using the blade Lucien had specified. This insecurity always made Lana's thoughts raced back to the Bard. The stupid bard. Surely this was the brotherhood punishing her for making an unscripted kill. The bard had been mostly innocent; after all he had done nothing to show that he might do her harm. Yet the Brotherhood seemed so pro-death, would they really judge her for what was almost self defense?
No, something was wrong. Lana choked back a crawling nervousness that had laid itself in her chest and threatened to erupt up through her throat. All Lana could hope for was that if this upset did expel itself from her body, that it would destroy that crooked board overhead. The idea of vomiting nervous magma made Lana laugh for a moment and then grow silent as she heard a scuffle down stairs.
"It's just some drunks getting into a brawl," Lana thought to herself.
Those fears were squelched as she heard footsteps on the stairs moving deftly towards her room. The feet were moving too rhythmically, as if they were trained to behave in unison. Steadying herself, Lana found herself pushing her weapons away from her body as the Guards broke through the door. Two men and one woman surrounded Lana with their swords drawn, as another woman stepped forward with a scroll in her hand.
"Lana Sullivan," the woman read, "Under the authority of the temporary government created until the successor of Uriel Septim VII can be determined, I place you under arrest for the murder of Roselyn Montgomery-Sullivan. Your crimes are an abomination in the face of the Divines, and you are advised to remain quite until a barrister can be assigned to you. Come with me."
Lana's whole body felt numb as the guards gripped her arms and forced her into a standing position. She turned and looked at the men and women who had just taken her into custody and begged them with a small voice, "Please, release me. If you knew what that woman had done to me, you'd understand why I had to leave."
The guards said nothing as they clamped manacles around her wrist and led her though the Inn. Several people stared on in horror as she was taken out the door, and several more were trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Arriving outside Lana was shoved into a waiting cart and the horses began to push forward towards the Imperial City.
As they rode through the center of Bravil, Lana caught sight of the Lucky Old Lady, who seemed to be waving to her as she left. A tear escaped Lana's eye for the injustice of her having to be arrested for this murder. At that moment the young captive felt like the Lucky Old Lady had caressed her face in assurance that nothing would happen. This confused Lana more than she cared to admit, and she attributed the sensation to the unfortunate state she found herself in.
The barrister assigned to Lana proved to be more of a buffoon than a useful lawyer. She spent most of an afternoon telling him of the abuse lavished on her by her stepmother, Roselyn Montgomery-Sullivan. The man remained mute as she told him about the time the woman had beaten her to the point of bleeding lacerations for breaking a vase. Nothing stirred him as she told him about the endless times she'd been denied food for some imagined faux-pas. The only time the man with fat rosy cheeks seemed to react was when she confessed how her stepmother had stolen her lover.
"I wouldn't tell anyone about that," the barrister said as he straightened his well worn velvet clothes. "The prosecution could claim you killed your step-mother for revenge. Here, here, it seems the only reason you were arrested was because a Kajiit named Do-Jaqas decided to turn evidence against you in exchange for his freedom. Seems his family was smuggling Skooma around Cyrodill. Terrible stuff, Skooma. At any rate, they seem to be taking the confession of this cat creature fairly seriously. Is there anything you can offer that would make him seem less credible?"
The eyes in Lana's skull felt like they were going to explode out of her head. She'd barely been able to eat since she had been arrested, and Lana was glad her stomach was empty, lease she fall ill. She pulled against the manacles binding her wrists tightly, tears in her eyes, and wished she could do anything to get out of this room. Do-Jaqas had betrayed her. The man who had once been her savior, promising her freedom if she could just steal her inheritance and escape with him, had turned around and betrayed her for killing the woman who would give her no peace.
Of course Lana had never fooled herself that she was any great love to Do-Jaqas, perhaps she was a fond remembrance, but never a beloved. She also never imagined he'd turn traitor. The unfairness of it boiled in her brain, making Lana laugh at the irony someone thrice murdered would be pinned for the one killing that was most guiltless. The idea of an innocent murderer piqued Lana's since of humor and she snickered, ignoring strange looks from the barrister who was going over some minor written matters.
Being back stabbed by someone you trusted and cared for seemed like a suitable continuation of Lana's life. After all her mother had died when she was two. Her father had refused to stop putting himself in dangers way for profit, and had died when she was ten. This left her with Roselyn, who despised the idea of being trapped in a shop having to take care of a brat that was not hers. Roselyn's anger at her husband's foolishness made her take her frustration out on Lana at every chance and had caused Lana's stepmother to do everything in her power to break Lana's soul so she'd be too emotionally crippled to leave.
Cruelty and injustice were the imagined themes of Lana's life. Her first and only love stolen away by Roselyn, and now the only other man she'd given her body to had turned evidence against her. At this point Lana began to weep. She wept for the innocent child who was never allowed the freedom to enjoy its childhood. She wept for how much of her life she had thrown to jackals that would snap it's bones and then come after her dismembered corpse as if they were entitled to her blood too. Most of all, Lana wept for the Dark Brotherhood, the family that was supposed to replace the one she finally killed when she put the dagger in Roselyn. She prayed to Sithis that what sin she had committed to make her new family forsake her be shown to Lana.
This tragedy of her situation was ultimately the most amusing thing Lana had heard in years. The futility of the situation, that life was so cruel, all seemed like the punch line to a joke only someone in Lana's position could appreciate. So she laughed while she cried, despite her lawyers protest that insanity wouldn't set her free. She laughed again in the courtroom when the magistrate announced the death penalty, throwing the book at the lawless in a time when law was most needed. Didn't she know that monsters like her were what killed the Emperor?
The russet haired woman stood, staring at the stairwell across from her holding cell. She waited dutifully for a sound she knew she would hear, the in unison clattering of guard boots on stairs. They would come for her soon to take her to her death. With no idea of time other than light or darkness, Lana sunk her head against the cold bar, sighed, and turned to walk over to her bed. The cot was really just a wood plank with cheap cloth laid atop it. For the first time in days Lana stilled herself on the cot and dozed off for a few minutes. While she slept she thought she heard the quite movement of cloth around her, and she wondered if this darkness was what the Void would be like.
A glove hand came down on Lana's mouth, and she looked up to see Lucien's cowled face. He raised his free hand to his lips and gestured for her to be quite. Lana nodded. She hadn't spoken for days and she had no reason to change this now. Lucien had entered through her cell, probably walking through the hidden entrance rumored to rest in the cell at the end of the block. A large Orc then appeared out of the shadows propped up a tanned woman red hair.
The Orc settled the woman against the wall, only to have the woman demand of him, "I want my ale. You promised me ale."
Shaking his head, the Orc pulled a small bottle of cheap beer from his belt and offered it to the woman, who took it and drank it with great zest. Lana looked at Lucien who simply smiled, and then turned to the Orc to issue the quite order, "Do it now."
The hulking green Orc gently grabbed the now unresponsive woman's hand, whatever was in the ale having sent her into a virtual coma. The Orc produced a jagged piece of metal from his belt and sliced a line down the woman's wrist, ceased her other arm, and did the same. He then pressed the shard into the woman's limp hand, his large olive fingers engulfing her brown digits, and let the shard drop. The intoxicated woman slumped over to her side, her face now paler than it had been when she entered.
Drinking this in, Lana breathed in the air around her with a new zest. Lucien touched her shoulder, smiled, and then guided her out of the cell. The Orc locked the barred doors, and the three snuck off into the darkness of the escape route. The small group traversed several yards of guarded sewer, only to emerge topside with the moon shining down on their faces.
Lucien silently lead his followers towards an abandoned shack on the other side of the water that the sewer spilled out into. Unlocking the door, Lucien said to the Orc, "stand watch for now, I'll relieve you as soon as she's comfortable."
The Orc nodded yes in response, and leaned back against the wooden door to keeping an eye out to make sure no one was in pursuit.
Inside off the shack Lana walked over to the fur covered bed and sat down. She watched as Lucien started up a fire in the ancient looking stone hearth, and added stock for a soup. Amazed at how Lucien had considered every detail, Lana relaxed some, and allowed herself to smile as Lucien pushed a chair across from her, taking her hands in his.
"I assume you understand that you are a member of our family now?" Lucien asked, trying to gauge Lana.
Overwhelmed, Lana took one of her hands back and covered her face, and then began to cry. Lucien moved in beside her and crushed her to his chest, exhaling onto the part in the center of her hair. Quickly regaining control of her emotions, Lana wrapped her arms around Lucien's neck; her eyes closed, and breathed in the oiled smell of his leather armor. They stayed like that for several minutes, until Lana finally pulled back in a moment of embarrassment. Lucien had recruited her for being a cold hearted murderer and here she was crying because he had saved her from death.
"Welcome my sister," Lucien said, his deep, soothing voice. "The guards won't care that the woman found dead in your cell isn't you. She looks enough like you, "a red guard piece of trash." They will be satisfied that 'justice' was served by your own hand. The Brotherhood watches after its own."
"Praise Sithis," Lana whispered.
"Praise him indeed," Lucien said, standing now.
The Speaker quietly moved to a chest in order to remove black armor and the weapons Lana had left in Bravil. The Speaker put the items on the bed in an orderly fashion, and Lana picked up the blade she had used for her initiatory murders, pressing it to her chest. Lucien looked on and nodded in approval.
"This is the uniform you would have been given at the sanctuary I oversee, "Lucien said. "It's located in Cheydinhal. You'll return there with Gogron in the morning and he'll introduce you to Ocheeva the head of the sanctuary. It means nothing that you did not receive these garments in your new home, what matters is that you follow the tenets and serve the Night Mother faithfully."
Nodding, Lana scooped up the clothes and placed them on top of a dresser with care. Lucien seemed to be watching her, probably making sure she wasn't crazed or changed by the experience of being arrested and sentenced to death. Sensing this, Lana walked over to the Speaker, bowed her head, and said "I owe you and the Brotherhood my life. I will never forget that."
"You owe me nothing," Lucien spoke, lifting her cheek so that her eyes met his. "The bard was right about one thing, you are beautiful. You deserve songs written about you, but not his trite, sugary love ballads. He should rather have sung of the dark one who the sun has rarely kissed. The strong woman who killed her oppressor and raised her blade to the glory of Sithis."
Her cheeks hot from the attention, Lana tried to avert her gaze. Unwilling to be ignored, Lucien planted a soft kiss on her lips, then pressed in for more when he found her mouth wanting. The assassin's fingers bore their way through Lana's hair as if he was playing the strands of a fine instrument. She was sure this man was master of anything he desired and if he desired her she was willing to be pulled into a touch that ran as deep as The Void.
The Speaker quietly broke off his affection to tend his soup, passing a hot bowl to Lana with a soft kiss on her head. Lana accepted, watching Lucien as he walked to the front door to pass the food to the Orc. Lana made quick work of her meal, and Lucien bid her to lay beside him in the only bed in the room. Lana slept for several hours as Lucien rubbed her back through her thin prison garb. For the first night in many days Lana found true rest. She barely noticed when Lucien stood to relieve the Orc, who entered the room and used a wall to hold him while he slumbered.
In the morning Lana woke to find Lucien gone. As she looked out the window Lana felt a pang of hurt that he hadn't said good-bye. The Orc, who was already awake, noticed her distressed look and said to Lana, "Don't worry; he made us some more of that terrific soup before he went. I'm a terrible cook, so you should be grateful Lucien made the effort. Oh, and welcome to the family."
Lana laughed and took the wood bowl from the Orc's muscular hands.
"Thanks," Lana muttered and began to drink down the soup as fast as she could. As the liquid hit her stomach and heated her insides Lana told herself that this was the warmth of Lucien's affection. Lana shuttered a little as she thought of Lucien's kiss. It was like a promise he couldn't quite make, which caused the gesture to obtain a rare erotic power. Thinking over this Lana remembered what a fool she was, she shouldn't worry about the intentions of a brother who treated his sister so tenderly.
Lana changed into her new uniform, pulling a brown woolen cloak on so that she wouldn't look to odd walking the streets. Once she was finished dressing Lana stepped outside and held her hands up for the Orc's approval. The green man applauded quietly and kicked his head to the side to acknowledge that they should get going. Walking behind the Orc Lana admired the battle axe strapped to his back, the blade looked well maintained, and she wondered how he managed to commit murder with such a clumsy weapon.
Cheydinhal was a town fit for a fairy tale. As they entered the gates Lana was awe struck by the towering houses with the quaint stones highlighted by skilled woodwork. It seemed so much more exotic here than in Anvil, and Lana looked at each house the childish wish to be able to peer inside. Even the dilapidated house that the Orc ultimately lead her to made Lana feel like she was now part of something more mysterious than before.
The Orc took Lana's hand and took her down the dark passageway of the dilapidated house, to a glowing door with a skull on it. The green giant squeezed Lana's small palm and reached out to touch the black print located in the center of the door's skull.
"What is the color of night?" A dry, genderless voice whispered from all around the two people. Lana stepped back, and the Orc turned to her with a toothy grin.
"Sanguine, my brother," Gogron answered the door.
"Welcome," the stone door hissed as it swung open into the dark stone basement beyond.
Finally letting go of Lana's hand Gogron walked forward into the shadows and disappeared into the sanctuary. The bronze skinned woman then stepped forward into the shadows by herself, crossing the threshold into her new life. Advancing further, Lana stopped and turned in surprise to see a skeleton with a sword and a shield cocking its head as if it was studying her. As the bone creature then returned to his rounds a voice from behind Lana spoke, "Don't worry about him. You've gained entrance to the sanctuary using the correct passphrase, he will not hurt you."
A tall woman stepped out from the shadows now, the light warping around her scaled features, giving Lana a glance of how her species must look moving through dark waters. The patches of midnight in the room seemed to swirl around the lizard woman, who smiled at the impressed look on Lana's face. The reptilian female then extended her webbed hand in a graceful gesture and said "Welcome sister, I am Ocheeva, I run the Cheydinhal sanctuary for Lucien."
Lana looked back silently, her golden eyes reflecting the candle light around her. The lizard crooked the edges of her mouth again, and reached over to place her hand on the middle of Lana's back. Ocheeva then gestured to the room that held them.
"Welcome to our unusual family my dear," Ocheeva began, "Before we go any further, I must teach you about the Five Tenets we all must follow.