Hello~
Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. The first scene was brutal on me for some reason. :/ But now that this is out of the way, I actually have the rest pretty well planned out so I shouldn't run into anymore blocks like this. Hope you enjoy!
The night was eerily still.
Nothing but the restless waters of the Karth River made any motion, slapping gently against the support beams of the Solitude docks. The wind blew occasionally, soft as the breath of a sleeping infant, sweeping wispy clouds over the face of the moon and casting the grey landscape into deeper shadows. The sense of stillness and near silence of the night brought with it a sense of unease. Though he could sense no immediate danger, Commander Maro was unable to sleep peacefully like the rest of his men. So he paced the docks in the dark, waiting for the sun to crest the horizon so that he could send the Katariah on her way.
The Imperial looked up at the hulking figure of the majestic ship, cast in the deep shadow of the great overhang of rock on which most of Solitude was built. He could imagine the Blue Palace just above him, a magnificent structure. Perhaps he would see it once more before escorting the Emperor back to his home in Cyrodiil.
If he hadn't have been looking, he wouldn't have seen it: the slight movement in the dark, the barest shift of a shadow within a shadow. Maro frowned and squinted hard, trying to see it a second time, to identify it, but it was gone. He huffed a bit, mildly irritated, and turned to walk down to the opposite side of the dock.
The whistle of an arrow met his ears too late. The sharp end buried itself into the soft flesh at the back of his left knee, tearing tissues and lodging into bone. Maro howled with pain, immediately falling to the dock as his leg buckled under him. His voice echoed across the water, but it was late in the evening now, and no one heard. His hands scrambled over the wound, feeling the injury with trembling fingers. He tore the arrowhead from the damaged flesh with a hiss, involuntary tears pushing at the back of his eyes. Maro frantically tried to stand, but his leg would not support his weight, and he looked around in the dark for the assailant in a panicked rage,
"Show yourself!"
The sound of boots striking wood made him squint harder as if it would help him see through the thick darkness. The wind swept the clouds from the moons' baleful gaze, casting silver shafts of light across the waters. Someone started to whistle. It was a familiar tune, but Maro couldn't identify it, flush full of adrenaline as he was. Footsteps sounded, short but steady strides, and a person came into the moonlight…short in stature, female in figure, a bow on her back and a dagger in hand. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell that she was a Redguard, but little else.
It took the Imperial several moments to recognize her, and even so, she was barely feet from him when he did. His eyes widened in shock,
"Impossible…" his voice was hoarse with pain and disbelief.
The Redguard woman finished the song, wetting her lips after relaxing them from their puckered position. She stopped an arms' length from him, looking down at him with bright, chocolate colored eyes. Her dagger flipped in her hand, a nimble swipe of her fingers bringing the point forward. He noticed with a sudden tinge of fear that her palm and the pads of her fingers were black, as if she had dipped her hand into paint or tar.
"Hello~"
The greeting came with a wide grin, showing off a row of pearly white teeth. The expression, however, was not a friendly one. It reached her eyes easily but did not light them with happiness. The hostility was powerful enough to be felt in the too still air,
"…Back from the dead a second time, here to introduce you to my dearest Dread Father~. Karma is absolutely dreadful, isn't she?"
The news traveled faster than Shadowmere could hope to.
Everyone was talking about it. The Emperor, murdered within his own quarters upon his own ship, a single arrow to the back of his neck. And then the leader of the Penitus Oculatos, Commander Maro, lying slain on the docks in the shadow of the Katariah. It was said to be a gruesome scene. Apparently all of his insides had been strewn across the planks, his midsection completely split open. Reports thought that someone had dug a knife into his belly and twisted before tearing it out. That and his heart had been missing completely.
The most terrifying part, however, was that both had been marked with black handprints upon their faces.
Karma didn't hear the story until she stopped in Morthal for a night of rest. She listened in on a few men sitting two tables away from hers while she had dinner in the Inn. It was over exaggerated but that was quite a good thing, especially for the reputation of the Dark Brotherhood. At the mention of the missing heart, Karma had to stifle her laughter with her cup of mead. Ah yes, she'd almost forgotten about that.
The Slaughterfish had been quite satisfied with her offering.
She went to bed in high spirits and woke up in the same good mood. Shadowmere gave her a sort of unimpressed look when she retrieved her from the stables, leading her out of Morthal by her reins. She whistled as she walked, a tune that the people of Skyrim were quite familiar with. She heard "The Age of Aggression" in a lot of the taverns where bards liked to sing and the tune had gotten stuck in her head. She wasn't pro-Imperial, but neither was she pro-Stormcloak. The civil war that was tearing Skyrim in half was not her concern. She was an assassin and she would kill whoever she was ordered to, no matter their alliance.
A few miles out of Morthal she finally mounted her demonic steed and eased her into a canter. Two days out, she could see Whiterun in the distance, the city in the middle of the wide plains. It was a quaint sort of place, really, other than the hulking form of Dragonsreach. Karma cast a wary eye about for giants before urging Shadowmere down the hill.
She left the horse at the stables just outside, grinning at the man who tended to the horses and clapping a few septims into his hand, "If you have any, give her a couple handfuls of oats, would you? We've come a long way."
Shadowmere nickered at her, obviously pleased. The man nodded to her, a little caught off guard by the smile, but returning a weak and nervous one of his own. The short walk up to the gates allowed Karma to stretch the cramps out of her legs. The guards watched her uncertainly as she all but danced by them, giving them both mocking salutes. She could already feel her fingers itching to grab at her dagger—but as enthusiastic as she was, she was still able to keep a cool head about this. She entered the Bannered Mare, her demeanor diminishing a little as she cast a quick glance around, taking tally of the people and her exit routes. Satisfied, she crossed the room, giving the barmaid a little nod in greeting.
Motierre was still staying in the same room he had been in when she'd come to hear his contract—the first Mother had ever given her. She pushed open the door without knocking, satisfied by his startled gasp. Karma pushed the door shut behind her. No one would need to see this.
Motierre was happy to see her, "I've already heard the news. You fulfilled you part of the contract perfectly. Now, your payment is a dead drop. I've left it in Volunruud. You remember the place we first met? It's in a chest. Thank you for your services."
He seemed surprised and confused when she didn't immediately turn to leave. Karma quirked a malicious little smile,
"I have some unfinished business. Be a kind little skeever and don't scream, alright? This could get messy."
The color drained from Motierre's face, "W-We had a deal!"
"A deal completed by both parties," Karma agreed, "It's nothing personal. Just carrying out the last wish of a wise old man marked for death," her smile widened into a grin.
Karma was long gone before anyone discovered the dead man in the back room of the Inn, a black handprint splayed over his face.
It'd been such a long while since she'd been to Dawnstar that she'd forgotten how damn cold it was. Karma scowled as she bent low over Shadowmere's neck to shield herself from the icy wind. The demonic horse plowed forward with an irritated sort of trot. Karma imagined that she was tired of the excessive travel…she was sharing the thoughts.
"What is life's greatest illusion?"
"Innocence~"
"Welcome home."
Karma felt a great sort of comfort as she stepped into the Sanctuary. Despite the place being a run down and in disrepair, it was going to be the Brotherhood's new home. With a sack full of coins in her pack she would be able to pay for refurbishing, and then they could begin recruiting. The very idea sent a smile to her face. She would work hard to restore the Dark Brotherhood to a previous time, and possibly make them even greater than they had ever been.
Her arrival, however, had not gone unnoticed.
"Dearest Listener! You've finally returned! Cicero was worried sick! Dearest Listener has been gone for weeks! No quick trip!" The Keeper's shrill voice met her ears and, to her, it sounded like music. It had been too long indeed.
Karma couldn't help but to laugh at his distress though, and the jester fell silent, glowering at her in immense irritation. The Redguard woman held up her hands in a defensive gesture, smiling apologetically. She'd missed Cicero more than she cared to say, and hadn't really noticed until right this moment. She was used to being without him, but greatly preferred his company to being alone.
Since when had that happened?
"I'm sorry, Cicero. I had a lot to take care of."
Cicero's eyes narrowed, "Cicero knows what the Listener has been doing. Out sneaking and stabbing, taking off your mask when poor Cicero can't see!"
The last part made Karma blink in surprise. She cleared her throat and rapidly changed the subject, "Is Mother here?"
The mention of the Unholy Matron immediately brightened the jester's features,
"Oh! Yes, dearest Mother arrived safely with the Redguard and the Unchild! Cicero admits, the Listener did a poor job of caring for her in the Keeper's absence."
Karma snorted with more laughter.
"We're going to need a lot of coin to fix this place," Nazir commented dryly as he cast his gaze around the common area, "A lot of coin. And that's just for the repairs, forget supplies."
Karma was standing by the hearth, warming her hands over the fire. It was nice to finally have some warmth back in her. She imagined that Shadowmere, now safe from the icy wind in the Dawnstar stables, was feeling much of the same. She'd ordered the stable boy to give the horse some oats and mead. The request wasn't too out of the ordinary. Too bad apples weren't in season…
Nazir's comment roused her from her thoughts and she turned to face him, simultaneously warming her backside,
"Oh, don't worry about that," she chirped lightly, "I got plenty of coin from the rat Motierre. Of course one has to offer quite a lot of septims for the murder of an Emperor. I also pinched quite a few things off the Katariah that are bound to be worth something," she smoothed her hands over her tunic, adjusting the belt at her waist, "I'll go to Delvin Mallory in Riften soon enough, see if he'll shift his loyalty from Astrid to me…considering she's dead."
The statement made Cicero cackle. Oh, how he'd hated her. The laughter caused a bit of a chain reaction and Karma snickered as well, unable to help herself. She flushed guiltily under Nazir's surprised gaze…and the jester watched from the sidelines as the mask was carefully placed on again. Sure, Karma had every reason to be angry at Astrid considering the circumstances of Karma's almost-death (twice, once in Solitude and once at the Falkreath Sanctuary), but beforehand she had never openly shown any disloyalty. Well, besides sparing Cicero, but no one knew about that until later. The Redguard cleared her throat,
"He'll be able to deal with refurbishing the place, if anyone is," she continued, turning to face the hearth again so that she didn't have to look at Nazir, "…and after that, we've got a lot of work to do."
"What do you have in mind?" Babette asked as she entered the room. She'd been poking about other parts of the Sanctuary. It was going to be tough to get rid of all the waste and repair all the damage done by the Frost Troll that had taken up residence in one of the other wings.
Karma turned to face them again, a small grin on her face. Cicero shivered in delight at the expression. There it was; that little spark of madness. He craved it and wanted to see more. His hands twitched almost as if it were tangible.
"We're going to rebuild the Brotherhood as it should be," Karma tossed her head a bit, lifting her chin, "A new family, with the Night Mother and the Five Tenants in place. We'll make Skyrim fear us again. We are not a band of cutthroats. We are the Dark Brotherhood…and we will no longer be part of a grim tale that mothers tell their babes to keep them in their beds at night,"
Nazir still looked surprised by her, but after a few moments he relaxed and a smile came to his face, "…very well, Listener. What will you have us do?"
Now that it's posted, this chapter looks too short. :T
R&R if you please~