Athene watched the draugr that slept just a few feet from where she sat. Perhaps if she shifted too quickly or spoke it would awaken and defend its crypt, but for now it was dormant. She watched it sleep and listened to the muffled sounds of Amaund Motierre leaving Volunruud with his bodyguard.
The contract they'd offered her was, in a word, astounding.
Murder the Emperor.
With this incredible request they'd given a necklace that was heavy enough that it must have been beyond expensive, and a sealed letter that Athene had immediately opened. It detailed how to systematically remove the Emperor's support system and ensure he'd be there in Skyrim for the big moment.
This was what the Night Mother had felt worthy of their attention. This was what Astrid had been too short-sighted to imagine. At least, so far.
For an insane moment Athene considered doing it herself, but she realized quickly that she'd need a team to accomplish every task. And anyway, the Night Mother might have named her Listener but the Dark Brotherhood had always been a group. A collection of misfits maybe, but a collection. Would she be doing right by keeping Cicero out of the loop, her devoted Keeper? Or Veezara, the last Shadowscale?
No, she'd have to tell Astrid about the plan. The trouble was, if Astrid never made up her mind Athene might have a problem.
Deal with that when it comes, Athene thought, as the slam of the crypt door reverberated through down the corridor. The draugr's eyes opened as bright blue slits, the glow of unnatural life flicking over to see Athene.
She slit its throat before it could stand, wondering for the hundredth time why that tactic worked when there was no blood or breath running through its body. Still, it did work. And now that Motierre was gone, she made her own way out of the crypt.
One more night in Whiterun, staying upstairs at The Bannered Mare, and then Athene headed back to Falkreath to fulfil her last contract from Nazir. Someone had to die at Half-Moon Mill.
She arrived past midnight and the mill was quiet. A woman stood vigil outside, and Athene ignored her, slipping into the house without a sound. The vampire within narrowed his eyes and the battle was vicious, alerting his wife. Suddenly things were happening too quickly, two vampires slashing their fingernails, daggers and teeth, and draining the life from Athene's heart.
Bloody and sore, she left the finally limp bodies of the vampire couple in their home and went to the stream to wash off. The moonlight played on Lake Ilinalta, fluttering up onto a ruined tower to the north and a stone on an island not far from shore. For all the violence of the last few minutes, Athene felt instantly peaceful. And instantly exhausted. She decided to stay the night—not in the house with the bodies, that was too much, but in the shadows beneath the working mill. She'd arrive at the sanctuary early the next day.
It was when she woke to morning that she realized how weak she'd become, and how the very sunlight seemed to burn through to her veins.
Ah hell, she thought. Vampires.