The story continues as the Listener of the Dark brotherhood is trapped in Cidhna mine. It's time she meets some of her inmates.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

Chapter 2

Lúthien rubbed her sore neck after her encounter with the butch Cidhna Mine leader and her head still pounding she made her way down the ramp into the mines. She could hear the ringing of pickaxes coming from all sides as she looked around the entrance cavern of the mine. The stone was rough and exposed veins of silver ore could be seen all around the cave. The light from a few glowing lanterns bounced of the walls creating a haunting gleam throughout the mine. The air down here was just as filthy as it was in her cell and the smell had got worse. Sweat and grime filled her nostrils as she walked through the cave; how she longed for clean air to breathe. Every breath she inhaled felt like a toxic fume and if she inhaled too much she would be rushed off to the infirmary. But not here. Not in Cidhna Mine. No help came for those who screamed for people screamed every day. People were sent mad by seeing nothing but the same four walls of the mine for year after year after year as there was no escape from the infamous Cidhna Mine.

Lúthien awkwardly paced around the entrance to the mine when she heard a voice.

"Hey! Hey you! Oi!" She spun around to see a man sat cross legged on the floor up against the wall. She didn't know whether to smile or not, she had no idea what the people were like in here. Were they evil? Were they savages? Were they insane? She had dealt with Cicero's level of insane with the Dark Brotherhood and was more than tolerant of his company, but his sort of insane and the sort of insane formulated from years upon years sat in the mine could sent someone to a whole new mental state.

"You speak?" The man became impatient with Lúthiens gawping.

"Ermm… yeah, yes. Hi…" She answered gingerly. The man looked at her like she was already insane.

"Yeah, hi." He grunted. "You all right? You got blood on your face." He pointed toward her matted hair and dried blood stains that had been running down her cheek after the guards struck her. She nodded, a little surprised with his concern. He gestured for her to sit down next to him. She looked at him puzzled.

"Sit!" He sighed impatiently. Lúthien scurried next to him and clutching her ebony hair over her left shoulder, she hesitantly sat down.

"What are you in for, new blood?" The man had grey hair slicked back with grease. A sign that washing wasn't an activity often participated in around the mine.

"Murder." Replied Lúthien bluntly.

"Really? You? Murder?" He said, eyes wide. "You don't strike me as the murdering type." Lúthien chuckled.

"I never do. That's what makes me so good at it." The man laughed at her boldness.

"With an attitude like that you should fit in just fine down here." He gave a sickly smile to his new inmate.

"Wow, people down here don't seem so bad. I expected to come down here and see people knowing each others legs off!" Joked Lúthien, as she relaxed with her new found company.

"Oh my dear girl, you've only met one of us! Do not assume all of the misfits in here are as sociable as me, I just thinks its nice to have a new face around and a female one at that." He mocked with a stifled laugh. Lúthien looked at him confused. How can a man as pleasant as him mix with such animals as he described?

"However, there are some that just love to talk! Old Madanach I assume would be open for a good conversation after being cooped up in his private cell all the time. I'm guessing he's the more charismatic one of the group. Better with the words."

"Who's Madanach?" The man was astonished by Lúthiens ignorance.

"Who's Madanach? Who's Madanach she says! Why, he's only the King of the Forsworn!" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Oh… right." Said Lúthien, now feeling a little embarrassed that she wasn't as all knowing and all seeing as she saw herself to be. "Well, where is he? Can we talk to him?"

"Ah, you see, no one talks to Madanach I'm afraid. Not without getting past Borkul the Beast, and you don't want to talk to Borkul the Beast." He said with a sinister tone as curiosity filled Lúthiens head.

"Borkul the Beast?"

"Madanach's guard." He began to explain. "Big, even for an orc. Heard he ripped a mans arm off and beat him to death with it. He's old fashioned like that." Lúthien gave a shallow guffaw assuming he was joking but his straight face told her that he wasn't. Swiftly changing the subject, the man spoke again.

"What'd you do on the outside world anyway? You have a job or you just kill people for sport?" Lúthien felt awkward as he questioned her.

"Well, I was a bodyguard." She said, lying through her teeth. The man glared at her, disappointed.

"Now, you and I both know that's not true. You weigh about three stone wet through and your about 5 feet tall. Smallest body guard I've ever seen." He laughed but when he looked at her he looked straight through her. These people in these mines weren't like outsiders. They were criminals, murderers, thieves; all scumbags. They knew almost every trick in the book, and they were wise to everybody's thoughts. There was no lying to this man, and not lying to the rest of them.

"You got me!" She smiled. She felt uncomfortable sharing who she truly was. Not because she was ashamed, but the best part of being a member of the Dark Brotherhood was the mystery that surrounded her.

"I'm a member of the Dark Brotherhood. An assassin, and I'm one of the best in my field." She said proudly although a little reserved in sharing such sensitive information with a stranger.

"Evidently not, seeing as you wound up in here." He replied bluntly, shooting her down mid conversation. Frustrated with the man not being impressed she attempted to regain her standing as a member of the Dark Brotherhood as it was a name that should be feared throughout all of Tamriel.

"I was the one who assassinated the emperor, Titus Mede II." She stated awaiting a reaction. None came.

"Sweetheart, I've been down here for 7 years. If the sky had turned pink and flowers as big as houses had sprouted up everywhere I wouldn't know or care." He said bitterly. Disappointed with his reaction, Lúthien slumped over her knees and rested her heads on her hands.

"My advice, serve your time at the pickaxe and get out. You don't want to get a shiv in the guts over a bottle of skooma." Baffled by the jargon, Lúthien ignored him and shuffled to her feet.

"Have a nice day!" Said the man sarcastically, as he returned to aimlessly sitting no the floor doing nothing.