Though probably not. Though maybe. It was difficult to tell, where love was involved.
She ensured her bow was ready, poisoned the tips of two arrows, and waited.
Guests arrived and began to mingle. Wedged in beside the stone walls Athene tried to overhear their conversations. It seemed Aquillius wasn't the only one who didn't approve of this arrangement. Both families were sniping at each other, picking out weaknesses like old pros. Of course, they were. Long before the Stormcloak uprising Imperials and Nords had looked on each other like unwanted siblings. It had only been a matter of time before they turned on each other, as they had before, and would again. Season unending, the Nords called it.
It didn't have to be that way. Athene had once been the eldest of three sisters. Sure, they fought, but it was to let off steam. They never burned their bridges, as these nations were trying to do. They showed their love by telling each other exactly how stupid they were being. That was family.
Vittoria Vici and her grinning husband had arrived in the courtyard. The bride looked… well, beautiful. She seemed stunned by her own happiness, and clasped hands with anyone who came near.
"So many people, here for me! Enjoy the day, my friends!"
"Aww," said Athene, but quietly.
The couple sat for a while beneath the arch in the courtyard. When most of the guests had tired of each other, and the guards were beginning to sway on their feet, Vittoria and Asgeir got up and went to the stairs that would lead to the balcony above the crowd. Vittoria was going to make a speech.
It was time.
Athene cocked an arrow and just about lost it. She set the bow back and and looked at her shaking hands. What was that? She'd been fine a moment ago. She looked up to where the sun had broken through clouds, and cursed.
It had been too long since her battle with Hert and Hern. According to Babette, she had less than a day until Sanguinare Vampiris overwhelmed her body and she became one of the living dead. And it was making her weak, so weak she'd barely been able to draw back her bowstring.
But that was exactly what she had to do. There was no choice here. It was time.
Vittoria stood on the balcony just across from Athene, and raised her arms, and smiled.
"My friends! Thank you all so much for coming!"
Athene drew hard on the bow, let the movement follow smoothly as she narrowed her eyes and focussed on her target.
In the next moment several things happened. She let the arrow fly, and it pierced Vittoria's heart, drawing a startled cry from the newly married woman. But before that, the door beside Athene opened, and Aquillius stepped through. As Vittoria died he didn't even look at Athene, but he let out a strangled sob of sorrow that drew the attention of every person in the courtyard.
I guess he didn't want her dead after all, Athene thought, as all eyes fell to her.
Thank the divines she was wearing a mask. Not even Aquillius recognized her, but everyone moved towards her, and pandemonium erupted. Asgeir held his dead bride in his arms and bellowed. His family began to fight over who would get to Athene first, Vittoria's family were weeping and holding each other as the blood began to dribble down from the balcony onto the arch where the couple had sat just a few minutes earlier, and every guard in Solitude descended on the Temple to wring Athene's neck.
She pulled herself up and away from Aquillius before he could grab her. The doorway to the stairs was blocked so she threw herself off the balcony and hit the ground in a roll that saved her life but nearly popped one knee. Her exhaustion was suddenly deadly, the burn in her veins pumping hard through her whole body, but she had to get away. There was no choice in the matter, no option except life or death. She ran through the courtyard, deking left and right to avoid her fate, and at her only exit she pulled up short as she just about ran into a familiar figure.
"Go!" Veezara yelled. "Get out of here! I'll hold them back." His blades flashed and he grinned at a guard as they sized each other up. Athene wanted to watch the Argonian win that fight, but she had no time. She fled the castle grounds towards the market and ducked into the circular stairs, down and down until she burst out at the bay beneath the Solitude outcrop. There were guards there too, running with swords drawn, so she dove into the water, pushing and flailing and trying to move as fast as possible without drawing breath. Cold and dark became a part of her and she realized it was a relief to be out of the sun. Some hundred feeble strokes later she reached the far bank and hid herself in the rocks as the guards searched the surface of the water, waiting for her to appear.
A disaster, or very nearly. That was all she could think. Vittoria was dead, and it had certainly been messy, but every person in Solitude knew it right away. That wasn't Athene's style. And the disease that threatened to overwhelm her had just about won, and on the very worst day. What had she been thinking, not taking Babette's advice? Waiting until she was in the middle of the job to feel the full effects? Ridiculous. Idiotic!
Athene felt around in the pack, determined to take the Cure Disease potion the little vampire had supplied and be done with this nonsense.
The potion was gone.
She looked at the bay where it had surely been washed out of her pack. Wide and deep and nearly black. She'd never find it now. In Solitude, the Temple where she might have prayed for release was guarded by hundreds that wanted her dead. Where was the next town after that? Morthal? Could she make it in time?
Athene huddled in the shadows of the rock and wondered if her choices had just been taken from her.