The dagger twirled easily between Mortem's fingers, the sharp blade moving so fast it was hard to pinpoint where the tip was at any given moment. This fact infuriated a very bloodied Rovaan, whose green eyes were trying to track the fast dagger. It didn't help his mood to see the redhead smirking at him and licking her lips like she was a wolf and he was a wounded animal.

And it still pissed him off to no end that she was training him at this very moment. He was Dragonborn, for fuck's sake. What kind of training did he need when all he had to do was shout his target to death? He'd been just as against her training him as she was, but now that she'd cut him multiple times with little to no effort? He was determined to become better than her. The blood lust in his body didn't appreciate being upped by her.

Rovaan had his own dagger, though it was in a death grip in his hands, and had yet to be stained with blood. He couldn't do any fancy hand tricks with the blade, but he could aim it pretty well, though it hadn't been helpful in the least during this little game. She knew just where he was going to throw it and when, either dodging the attack altogether, or catching the weapon in midair before throwing it back to him.

"How much more blood are you going to spill before you give up?" Mortem sighed, breaking the man out of his thoughts. His green eyes narrowed in her direction, and he gripped the shaft of his dagger even tighter. Gods, this woman was so infuriating! It wasn't his fault that Astrid had paired them together. If anything, it was her fault. She was the one who'd gone overboard on her kill, showing up the blonde and pissing her off. What gave her the right to punish him for something she did?

"Quit daydreaming and pay attention!" Mortem hissed, throwing another dagger that sliced into his arm, thudding into the ground seconds later. Rovaan bit his lip to stop the pained sound and glared at Mortem harder. She was really starting to piss him off.

"What's the point of this? It's obvious that I can kill people, just not with these throwing knives. Why don't we just go to something else, for the sake of Sithis?!"

"The fact that you don't understand why we're doing this is the point to this exercise, Dragonborn. The sooner you learn the hidden lesson, the quicker we'll be through with this."

"Why don't you just fucking tell me your point then?!" Rovaan shouted, finally letting go of his dagger, watching as it flew towards the woman. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment the blonde thought that he'd made a terrible mistake. Luckily, Mortem moved her head just in time, and the blade stuck viciously into a tree trunk behind her.

"So, you wanna do it the easy way huh? Fine, but you'll regret it later," Mortem whispered, her eyes turning dark crimson.

In the blink of an eye, her figure was gone from his vision, leaving him seemingly all alone. He was only confused on her whereabouts for a moment. A sudden pain hit the back of his knees, sending him crashing to the ground, and his instincts were enough to protect him from a quick stab as he rolled away. He'd barely seen a flash of red before she'd disappeared again.

"You showed such promise the other day, when you dared lay your hands on Cicero," Mortem spat, her voice coming from all angles. He only had time to get up on one knee before there was a slash against his cheek, causing him to seethe in pain and look around. What game was she playing?

"So what, it was a fluke!"

A punch to the gut was his next answer, making him cough up a little blood and fall to the dirty ground again. Gods, did she plan on delivering him a slow and painful death?

"I thought it had been as well, before you threw your dagger at me in anger. You had precise aim, knew where to throw it, but I was ready for it. That's the only reason I dodged that blade."

Still prone, kneeling on all fours on the ground, Mortem stopped her fast movements and just stood next to him, looking down at him in disgust. Growling, the man went to swipe at her, but again, she was prepared. The redhead easily knocked the blade out of his hand with a huff, leaving him defenseless.

"You can kill, I've seen it in you, but the only way you access your true abilities is when you lose control. When you lose your anger, when you let your blood lust take over, when you're overcome with sadness."

Mortem grabbed a handful of hair, pulling the Nord to sit up forcefully, and she leaned in close enough to press her lips against his ear. If it wasn't for the fact that she'd beaten the complete shit out of him with such little effort, he'd find this extremely erotic.

"In this business, you can't afford to let your emotions take control of you. Either you or someone close to you will die, and since you're a part of my family now, I won't let you destroy us. You will learn to control yourself and your power. And if I have to bring you within an inch of your life for that to happen, I will do it without hesitation."

The assassin let go of the Dragonborn, ignoring him as she turned around to return to her practice place. Her red eyes watched Rovaan as he slowly got back up, wiping away the blood on his face. She waited for him to yell at her, to turn and run to Astrid about her teaching matters, and at worse, just leave them all together. However, he surprised her by turning around, picking up his dagger, and resuming his position.

"Control the blade, control myself. I get it, I get it."

Mortem let a small smile grace her lips, the gentle gesture removing some of the malice from her face, and Rovaan almost smiled back at her. Instead, he threw his dagger at her, but this time he wasn't disappointed that she caught it.

"Oh Mother, my Mother! It has been so long since my eyes have been graced by your beautiful face!"

Looking up from her book, Mortem smiled over at Cicero, watched as he tended to his Keeper duties, and felt her heart warm just a bit. This was when Cicero was really, truly happy. Doing his job as keeper, talking to the Unholy Matron, and humming insane tunes to songs he'd made up. It was something his new Jester mind could remember from times before. Mortem could remember how overjoyed the assassin was when he'd been named Keeper, an honor that hadn't been bestowed upon anyone in hundreds of years.

But there was a reason for that, why they'd never needed a Keeper, and that thought alone was enough to wipe the smile off her face and sink her into a depression. The Dark Brotherhood, the Black Hand… one by one they'd left them for the Void, left the two of them alone, and it had drove her love mad.

If they'd only had a Listener, would Cicero's madness finally leave him? Would he be the man that he'd been before?

Those questions didn't really matter, though. It had been years since they'd had a Listener, though they'd been looking for so long. It was almost impossible that they'd find one, but Mortem would never tell Cicero that. Without that hope, he might not be able to make it through life.

Tearing up, Mortem looked back down at her book, hiding her face, and wiped away a stray tear. And what the hell would she do without Cicero? Follow him into the Void, for sure. So she had to have the same hope, for the both of them. Had to pray to Sithis that they would find their Listener.

"Alisanne, where is your heir? Where are you hiding them?"

"Thanks Babette. I'd be bed ridden for weeks if it wasn't for you and your talent with those plants of yours."

The small unchild gave him a chipper smile and a wink, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Don't mention it. We can't have our newest member out of the count when he just joined. But if you come back every day like this, I don't know if I'll have enough ingredients to keep you alive."

Rovaan laughed and ruffled the vampire's hair, much to her displeasure, before he walked over to one of the bed's not too far by, resting his aching body.

"Well, when that day comes, I guess I'll go to the Void in peace, then. But until then, you'll be seeing me every night."

"Great," she sighed, turning back to her alchemy book, "Looks like I'll have to go on another search to replenish my stock."

Rovaan grinned, but kept back any more smart remarks. He would never outwit the child, he knew that. And he was dead tired anyway. He had to do it all over again come morning anyway, he needed his sleep.

But just as he was on the brink of dream and reality, a voice—though it was neither male nor female—stirred him from his relaxation and caused him to bolt up.

"W-what did you say, Babette?"

"Hm?" the vampire replied, her nose still halfway stuck in her book, "I didn't say anything. Sure you weren't dreaming already?"

"Yeah… I must have been…" he trailed off, laying back down, though he was no longer at peace.

"It… had to be a dream."

He is already here, it had whispered to him, Right under your nose. Patience, Mistress. His power will come forth soon.

Hello everyone! It's been a long time, hasn't it? When I said this had scarce updates, I really didn't mean this scarce. However, I hadn't the inspiration to write the story until now, and it actually took me playing Skyrim over again before I could get this out. I'm hoping now that I'm going through the Dark Brotherhood line again, my muse will continue to let me write, and I hope you guys can keep patience with me as I do this. And I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

-Jaquie