.

KELJARN

Filicide

Near Falkreath

Close to midnight, now. He'd arrived a bit early and had a chance to scout out the location. He hadn't found anyone, and since he'd thoroughly looked, even going inside the construction site, he was firmly convinced that he was alone, at least for now.

He had no idea why his mystery letter-writer had demanded to meet him here. Probably because it was abandoned at night, and easy to find. Plenty of hiding places too. The big manor that was being erected out of stone and wood was half-finished, and this made it a good, though slightly dangerous, place to hide oneself. Keljarn had no idea who was building this place, and he didn't care. All he cared about was some answers. Whatever his mystery pen pal wanted, it'd lead to him knowing more. Because it wasn't his life, that was certain. Whoever wrote him the note could have slit his throat when he was sleeping in the library.

He looked back up from the bushes he'd been hiding behind and saw, in the clearing ahead, a female figure sitting casually on a tree stump, only metres away from him. By the Nine, how had this woman approached so closely without a sound? Then he remembered he was dealing with the Brotherhood, and this one seemed to be one of them, the darkened leather armour and knives at her belt made that very clear if the mask didn't already.

"You can come out from there, you know," the woman said, her eyes on him. "You're not very good at this hiding and sneaking around business."

Not showing his embarrassment at being spotted, Keljarn came out from the bushes and walked up to her, his hand on the handle of his axe.

"Oh please," the woman scoffed. "I'm just here to talk. If I wanted you dead, then… well, I'm not going to resort to clichés." The voice sounded in her late thirties, or early forties. Her age regardless, she seemed to be in very good physical shape from the way her body looked, wrapped tightly in those leathers.

"So talk."

"Before I start, I have your word that this will be a peaceful and civilized meeting, yes?"

Keljarn shrugged. "Sure." As long as you tell me what I need to know.

"Good. Neither of us have anything to gain by letting this turn violent."

"So. What did you want to meet with me for?" Keljarn said at the woman, taking care to sound as unfriendly, and unimpressed, as possible.

"Two reasons," the woman said, sliding off the tree stump and putting her hands in her sides. "First, we take the Black Sacrament seriously. Desecrating our ritual gets you a warning to start, so now you've had yours. There won't be a second."

As if he was scared of the Dark Brotherhood. "That's nice. And the second reason?"

"The second reason," the woman said with a sigh, "is the strange idea you have that one of us has wronged you in some way."

"Is that a strange idea?" Keljarn asked. The night was completely quiet, the moon reflecting off the lake near the manor. "Because I don't think it's a strange idea."

The masked woman laughed in derision. "I'm sure you think you're onto something, but you're not. We had nothing to do with this, I'm telling you now. And on that note, I'd like to give you a piece of advice."

Keljarn raised his eyebrow. This would be good.

"Back off. Don't go digging into our business. People who do, well, they tend to end up dead." She sighed. "And I'd promised myself not to resort to clichés."

"So that's why you wanted to meet, here, at midnight, like the corny stereotype that you are?" Kejlarn asked. He didn't buy a word of it.

"That's pretty much it," the woman simply said. "One, stop desecrating the Sacrament, and two, back off. You're risking a lot and wasting your time."

Nice try, bitch. If he was wasting his time, this woman never would have risked meeting him, because they'd have nothing to hide. The fact that she came all this way and took this chance meant there most certainly was something to hide, and this bint tried to discourage him from finding anything. They hadn't murdered him because that would have been too drastic, but they were clearly trying to throw him off the scent. "I don't believe you."

The woman shrugged and turned away. Over her shoulder, she said, "Then don't. But you're putting your life on the line for nothing."

No, no. Keljarn wasn't going to settle for that. He'd keep it diplomatic as long as he got the answers he needed, and these weren't the answers he needed.

"I'm not convinced."

The woman took a few steps, and again over her shoulder, said, "You keep not being convinced all you like. Have a nice night."

If he let her walk now, he'd lose every chance to get answers and find the one who'd murdered Kodlak, Njada and Ria. He didn't like breaking his word, but this was for the greater good. He couldn't let this one walk away.

It wouldn't be a nice night for this snooty, condescending coward.

In a few leaps, he had cleared the distance to her, and she was just in time to whirl around and let her eyes go wide before he body-slammed into her, taking her down like the frail, weak thing she was. They crashed into the ground, Keljarn fully in control of the struggle, and he pinned her to the ground.

"We agreed not to fight each other," she panted, trying to get him off her. "You said you – "

Keljarn shut the woman up with a hard punch straight into her mask. Her eyes rolled back, but then settled on him again.

"What are you doing? You – "

This one learned things the hard way, it seemed, so he did what had to be done. He struck the woman hard in the face again and again, Whap! Whap!, his fist pounding into her, Whap!,hammering the resistance out of her. Whap! Whap! Whap!

Now the woman's eyes didn't fix back on him, remaining rolled back in their sockets. Her arms lay splayed outward.

"Not as tough as they said you were," Keljarn growled at the assassin. "Now, I know you were lying to me. Tell me. Tell me who it was and you get to live."

The woman's eyes moved, her eyelids fluttering, and she convulsed as she went into a coughing fit, blood soaking through her mask where her nose and mouth were.

"As mute as you are innocent, huh?" Keljarn snarled. "Let's see that face of yours to start."

With one hard jerk, he tore the mask off her, revealing the face of a woman, indeed in her early forties, who must have been good-looking before Keljarn had done what he had to. Now her nose was clearly broken, her lips split, and as a thick stream of blood ran out of her mouth and down her cheek to her ear, a fragment of tooth ran down with it. Her eyebrow had burst, and the cheek below was rapidly swelling and discolouring. He hoped it hurt.

"Now then, I ask again. Who was it? Who did you send to murder my friends after the Silver Hand paid you?"

The woman let out a hoarse laugh, her teeth red with blood. Two of her incisors had a piece broken off. "I'm not telling you anything," she slurred.

"I thought you assassins thought of yourselves first," Keljarn growled, pulling her dagger from her belt and putting the tip against the underside of her chin. "Don't you?"

Panting, the woman croaked, "No. You don't know the… first thing about us. We… care about family. I care about my family."

"Enough to get your throat cut for them?"

"Much more." The woman's eyes settled on his, and he saw something else in them. A kind of… weariness? Resignation? Even more than that?

"Go ahead. Do what you have to do," she said, perfectly calm. This wasn't defiance, it was the opposite. "I don't care anymore. What does it still matter."

She was sincere, she'd really given up, and threatening her with death would no longer work. Keljarn knew he'd have to go to depths he had never gone before, and that he would hate himself for it, but this was necessary. He had to do this.

Overcoming his revulsion with himself, he leaned down until he was inches from her face, and said, "I'm not going to kill you. Not yet. First I'm going to rape you, and when I'm done, I'm gutting you and stringing you up by your own bowels. Then I'm going to find where you hide, and believe me, I will, because you will tell me before you die, you'll scream it, and then me and my friends are going to break the door down and murder the lot of you." He came even closer, trying not to hate himself for what he was saying. He felt physically ill at his own threats, even though they weren't more than that, and would never be. It was a bluff, but one that made him feel nauseous. But he couldn't show his own revulsion, he had to do this. "And we won't kill them straight away. First we will rape every woman. Every girl. Every boy. One at a time. And they'll have to watch. Every. Single. One."

The woman felt just as horrible as he did, he could tell from her bloody and broken face, etched with terror and disgust. "No, you… you wouldn't…"

"Wouldn't I?" he hissed in her face. "You'll never know, will you?" She broke, he saw it clearly. She was about to spill it. Just a little nudge. "All those horrible things will happen to them, to your family, because you couldn't protect them. Because you were too much of a coward to give me one single name."

"If I… If I do this," she whispered, breaking into sobs, "will you leave my family alone?"

"I will. If you're telling the truth."

"You… you swear?"

"I do," he said solemnly. The beatings, the threats, all those terrible things seemed forgotten, and this moment was peaceful and serene. He meant his vow, and during that short moment, this woman was his closest confidante. The oath he swore bound them intimately, however briefly. "I just want justice for what happened to my friends."

The assassin closed her eyes, tears running from them. "Night Mother forgive me." She took a breath and with her eyes still closed, whispered, "Siari. Her name is Siari. She's one of my youngest assassins. She… returns from a job tonight. Then I'm supposed to send her to Riften."

"She?" All this time, he'd assumed it was a man. But of course, that had never been more than an assumption. "Keep talking. What does she look like?"

"She's sixteen. Brown hair… in a ponytail. Fringe." It looked like it caused her physical pain to betray her fellow Brotherhood member.

"Give me something better. A way to recognize her."

Fresh tears ran from her closed eyes. "She… she can't speak. Doesn't... have a tongue."

"That's better. Riften, huh? Alright. If she's not there tomorrow, I'll murder the lot of you. Like I said. There's plenty of your blood on my clothes. All I have to do is walk to a scryer, and I'll know where you're hiding."

He got up, leaving the woman in the dirt, broken in body and heart. He felt for her, briefly, but then he remembered Ria dying in his arms. He took a few steps back and told the prone assassin, "One thing. I want you to know this. I was lying about what I'd do to your family. I'll still kill them if you double-cross me, but those other horrible things I said…"

"I don't care," the woman sobbed, covering her eyes with one arm. "What have I done. I'm sorry, Siari. My daughter. I'm so sorry."

"You're protecting a murderer," Keljarn said, stepping back. "And you're a murderer yourself. Your paths lead right to the gallows, and you knew this when you started. It's too late for remorse."

"Wait, before you go," the leader of the assassins implored. Keljarn remained where he was, looking at the woman as she got up, groaning in pain, and got to her knees before him. "Please. Find it in yourself to let her live. And if you can't, then…"

"What?"

She was before him, upright on her knees, her face streaked with blood and tears. "… Don't let her suffer. I've never begged before in my life, but this time I do. I beg you." She closed her eyes and lowered her head. "… from a mother's heart."

It was a plea he couldn't promise to fulfil. Not after what this person had done to Kodlak, and Njada, and Ria. He simply couldn't. "We'll see."

"I've got no idea what you two are doing, and I don't give a shit, but if you don't get off my land right now, you'll both wish you'd never been born."

What in Oblivion…?

The assassin, swaying back and forth on her knees, blood streaked over her swollen face, was not lucid enough to actually notice the person approaching, but Keljarn saw her well enough. Striding towards them was a female dressed in armour that looked like it was made from massive bones. In her hand was a wicked, slightly curved and jagged longsword. Pale blonde hair swayed as she walked.

"Go on, go act out your adventurous fantasies somewhere else. I'm building a house here, for fuck's sake. People these days, no Nine-damned respect. Go on, clear off."

Ah, damn it. The owner of this construction site. What on Nirn was she doing walking around in the middle of the night? Whatever it was, she didn't look like a pushover.

Wait. The armour made from bones. Dragon bones. This was the honest-to-Talos Dragonborn herself. Oh, of all the people…!

He couldn't stay to explain the situation. From what he'd heard of this woman, she was hot-headed, and had almost no regard for human life. It was probably exaggerated, but he didn't want to stick around to find out. This woman was more powerful than all the Companions put together, able to tear man or mer to pieces with a single shout. Even shifting wouldn't be able to give him the advantage, because the Dragonborn's voice had a wide range of powers, one of them reputedly being to hammer any shape-shifted creatures back into their human form.

Before he ran, he shot a brief look back and forth between the still-dazed Brotherhood leader and the Dovahkiin, then let his foot fly through the air, and connecting perfectly with her face, he kicked the assassin's lights out.