SIARI
Bound Until Death
Outside Sanctuary
Home again. Although it was not what it once was. During the ride back, she'd had plenty of time to think, plenty of time to work out theories as to what had happened and why. She couldn't explain the Companion bastard yet, but the whole business with the Thieves' Guild was clear as day. She knew how that had been arranged.
And who had arranged it.
But before she could confront her dear, dear 'mother', she had another Mother to see.
"Ahh, the Listener returns!" Cicero squealed in his terribly annoying voice. He bowed so deep he almost fell over, his hands making flourishes at his sides. On the small table before him was a collection of aromatic herbs and oils, which he was probably using to prepare the Night Mother's… preservative fluids. "Forgive me for staining your dark beauty with my lowly presence."
He'd have to take a break. With a quick swat of her hand, she shooed him away, and he promptly left, making more insincere praise tumble from his lips.
Siari waited for him to leave and take his idiocy with him, then stood before the Night Mother.
Cicero is a devoted servant, but sometimes I wonder… the voice sounded in her head, gentle and motherly.
Yes, Siari would wonder about him too, if she were in the Night Mother's place.
Your mission ended in ambush, it would seem. It seems quite clear who is responsible, at least in part.
Yes, more than a bit clear.
The question, of course, is did the self-proclaimed head of your self-proclaimed family know what was about to happen… This I cannot see at this moment. Her heart is so clouded with turmoil, it is difficult for me to divine.
Oh, she must have had an inkling.
A scent clings to you, my Listener.
Warmth flushed up Siari's body. She should have washed before presenting herself, damn it. She'd been swimming in shit water, the smell soaked deep into her clothes and hair and skin, and she presented herself to the Night Mother with this stink on her? What had she been thinking?
The smell of one of Sithis' brethren.
What?
It is too faint to identify, but… it would seem you encountered one of the agents of a fellow Daedra Prince.
What, one of the thieves? That was too preposterous for words. Or maybe…
If that was true, this was bad news indeed. The torture-happy Nord who'd cut off her finger, could it be? If this was an agent of one of the Daedra Princes, she was in for a heap of trouble.
I must investigate this further. Until then, my Listener, tread very carefully.
Oh, she would. No doubt about that.
Perhaps you should go see Astrid now. She will doubtless be waiting for your report… or for you not to return at all. Observe her reactions carefully. Do not confront her too quickly, this will only make her more suspicious, and depending on how guilty she is in what has transpired, she will only be more cautious and employ more subterfuge. And if she is mostly innocent, confronting her will only turn her against you.
A short silence fell from the Night Mother. Siari respected it, how could she do anything else?
Regardless, even though the fog surrounding her, I can still feel great affection for you. It may not be too late.
That would all depend on what Astrid had to say for herself. Her reaction on seeing her would already tell a lot. If she was surprised to see her 'daughter' return, that would tell her all she needed to know.
"Siari, you're back," Gabriella said cheerfully as she came out of the Night Mother's chambers. The Dunmer's cheer soon faded when Siari came within smelling distance. She pulled back and waved her hand in front of her nose. "Uagh, Siari, dear, did you suddenly decide to save your last poop and dive after it? You smell like… well, poop."
Siari made an embarrassed face. She was well aware of how she smelled. It was always nice to see Gabriella, her bunkmate, but now, smelling like a sewer, it was rather embarrassing.
"You should really wash," Gabriella said, wrinkling her nose.
There would be time for cleaning later. She pointed at Astrid's door.
With a snort, Gabriella said, "Astrid's away for an hour or so, and even if she wasn't, she'd feed you to Arnbjorn for traipsing into her office smelling like that." Hm, good point. She'd wanted to just barge into Astrid's office and observe her reaction, but if she wasn't there, she wasn't there. Still, she'd have to get the drop on her. It was crucial to see how she reacted on seeing her alive.
"Come on, I'll draw you a bath," Gabriella said with a smile, nudging her head at the part of the cave that served as the bathroom. "Because girl, you're stinking the place up."
Siari had to grin at that, and she followed Gabriella in the bathroom, letting her bunkmate close and lock the door behind her. After all, Gabriella was the resident alchemist, and the extracts she brewed up weren't all lethal; she made some wonderfully fragrant oils as well, and using them made Siari feel clean, fresh and fabulous.
They both filled buckets from the natural underground spring bubbling up inside the bathroom-cave and filled the massive kettle suspended over a wood pile. "Give me those stinky leathers," Gabriella said after she'd lit the fire under the kettle, holding one hand out to her and using the other to pinch her nose shut. "I'd rather burn them but since they've cost the Brotherhood a lot of dosh, I'll just throw them in the pond outside and let them soak for a day."
Siari peeled the leathers off her and handed them to Gabriella. "Tri-bunal, these stink!"
Looking down at herself, she noticed her undergarments were brown and so stiff with dried slop she had to almost break them off.
"And these are going into the fire," Gabriella let Siari know, immediately adding deed to word and sending her underoos up in foul-smelling smoke, the fire under the pot greedily eating them up. "Get in."
The uncomfortable feeling of her bare behind on the cold, hard wood was instantly forgotten with the pure bliss of the warm water splashing into the tub, bucket after bucket, even though it turned brown almost instantly. Gabriella had a mountain flower extract ready to pour in, but she returned it to her pocket and said, "Uh… yes, we'll be needing more water, then."
She sat there, enjoying the water's heat, foul as it was, her eyes closed.
"So, how'd the job go?" Gabriella asked to make conversation as she hauled more buckets from the spring to the big kettle on the fire.
Siari made an exaggerated sniffing motion and pinched her nose shut.
"Yes, yes, dirty, we've established that, but… apart from that?"
She held out her hand and made a scribbling motion.
"Oh. Of course." Gabriella brought the bookstand near, cut down to half-size so that Siari could write from the bath tub. Such luxury.
She wrote,
went to shit
guild was rotten
unknown guy showed up
crazy bastard
tried to kill me
escaped
revenge probably
"Revenge?" Gabriella repeated, reading the paper with a pensive face. Revenge for what?
jorrvaskr
"Mm." Gabriella fell silent, thinking. "That's not good."
Siari shook her head in agreement.
"Any idea how he found you?" Gabriella asked, tearing off the paper to make room for a new one, and chucking it into the fire.
She shook her head again, hugging her knees as the water slowly went cold.
Carefully, Gabriella suggested, "Maybe you were… well… sloppy?"
Oh no. No, no, no. She hadn't been sloppy. Gabriella had a lot of nerve to suggest that. She felt her face go angry, and she wrote, in big bold letters,
NO
"Alright, alright. I'm just… checking all the possibilities."
It hadn't been sloppiness. She had to get that 'possibility' out of the way then and there. She wasn't going to implicate Astrid here, but Gabriella needed to know, and know very clearly, that,
SOMEONE TOLD
Gabriella's face went slack with amazement. Whether it had been Astrid or not, it hadn't been Gabriella, Siari determined. You couldn't fake this kind of surprise. Not Gabriella, at least.
"Are you saying someone… betrayed you? That's… a serious suspicion to have," Gabriella breathed. "I mean, I can't possibly think of anyone who'd – "
Siari took her other hand out of the water and made a dismissive gesture.
Gabriella's mouth fell open even wider. "Siari! What happened to your hand?"
Oh right, that. Nobody even noticed bandages around their brothers' and sisters' limbs anymore, but the wrapping around her left hand had come undone, and was now hanging from her wrist by a single loop. The slop had washed mostly off, and now her hand was clearly bright red, the stump of finger a red, wrinkly hole on top of the knuckle, yellow fluid forming balls of crust in the wound.
This would be impossible to downplay, so she simply pointed her thumb at the fire that had burned the paper she'd written on.
"That guy did this to you?"
She nodded.
Gabriella grabbed Siari's wrist and pulled her hand closer, the strength of her grip clearly indicating she had no desire or patience for resistance.
"Siari, you should have told me about this right away. You should have let this get treated. It's an open wound, including a broken bone, exposed to all manner of horrible nastiness for hours. It's badly infected, see?"
Gabriella pointed at the underside of Siari's arm, slick with water. Clearly visible on her pale skin were angry, curved red lines going from her wrist to her elbow. The palm of her hand was entirely red. Siari attempted a shrug, trying to tell Gabriella it was nothing serious, but she wouldn't have it.
"No, Siari, don't start that tough-girl idiocy with me. We both know you're not fooling anyone. Besides, an infection like that can kill you or make you lose the arm if you let it spread."
Gabriella was genuinely angry, but whether it was because of what had happened to Siari, out of concern, or because she felt personally insulted for not being told about the injury right away was unclear.
Gabriella also wasn't prone to exaggerating. If she said it was a dangerous infection, it probably was. Doubt sneaked into her chest and her heart began to beat more rapidly. Oh Sithis, what if it was too late? What if she was going to lose the arm, or die? Maybe the guy had killed her already, he just didn't know it yet.
"Don't make that face," Gabriella said curtly. "You're not going to die just yet. It can still be stopped, but what if I hadn't seen it, hmm? Would you have waited until the infection set your entire arm on fire? Or until I woke up next to you one morning and found you dead in your bed?" She shook her head, letting out an angry sigh, turning Siari's hand over in hers. "This is just so irresponsible of you."
Siari could only make a guilty face at that.
"Get out of the tub. I'll change the water and then I'm taking care of that."
Siari got out, hugging herself, her teeth chattering against the cold air on her wet skin, and waited for Gabriella to first pull the stopper on the bath tub, sending the dirty water back into the spring via a pipe in the underside, and then to throw buckets full of hot water in the tub until the kettle was empty.
'In, scoot. Don't want you dying of a cold before the infection can get you."
After letting some drops of the mountain flower extract fall in, Gabriella undid the bolt on the door, then turned back to Siari. "You sit there, and don't move until I'm back with my supplies, got it?"
Siari could do no more than nod. As she heard the door open and close, she closed her eyes and just enjoyed the hot water and the sound of the fire behind her. She briefly sneaked a peek and saw the bathwater remained mostly clear. Good. It'd probably go right back to brown the second she rinsed her hair, but that was something to worry about later. It smelled wonderful, the mountain flower extract perfuming it and gently removing the shit smell from her nostrils.
After no more than a minute, the door opened and closed and Gabriella come back in, holding a basket under her arm. It wasn't Nazir or Arnbjorn or Festus taking advantage of the unbolted door to sneak a peek, thankfully. Or even worse, Cicero.
"Sit up," Gabriella said, kneeling next to her. Taking Siari's hand, she uncovered the basket and took a good look at the wound. "It's bad," she grunted. "Will probably hurt like a branding iron for a while, but the infection's not too far yet."
Siari watched as Gabriella mixed several powders into a mortar, added a single bright green succulent plant stem, crushing it through the powder with a pestle, and finally sprinkled in some kind of gooey black oil, stirring it vigorously until it became a dark green paste. With a small wooden spatula, she scooped up some of the paste and slathered it all over the wound in a thick layer, the goop making Siari wince as it came into painful contact with the weeping remains of her little finger. After inspecting it to make sure the gunk was smeared on thickly enough, Gabriella wrapped her hand in clean bandages.
"These get changed every twelve hour." Locking angry eyes with Siari, she added, "No exceptions."
Siari could only nod meekly.
"By the way," Gabriella said, finishing the wrapping, "I bumped into Astrid. She'll be here to talk to you in a moment."
Ah, damn it, no!
Gabriella hadn't seen the flash of frustration on Siari's face, still looking intently at her throbbing hand. Damn it, this ruined everything. She wanted to punch ignorant pseudo-helpful Gabriella with her good hand, but that wouldn't help anyone. Certainly not Gabriella. Fuck. The woman was lovely, but she'd just ruined Siari's possibly only chance to see Astrid's genuine reaction to her return. Damn it.
The bandages were wrapped, and Gabriella held up a small vial to Siari's lips. "Drink."
Siari made to take the vial in her own hand, but Gabriella pushed it back down. "Needs to be in small portions. One sip at a time." The Dunmer held the vial to her lips and tilted it slightly in intervals, to let the liquid leak into her mouth in small sips. It tasted of mint leaves and thick vegetable oil. "This'll help with the infection that's already internal."
It wasn't the most dignified way to drink medicine, but if it helped, fine. Siari drank the entire vial, slowly, like a good little girl, holding her head back to make sure it ran easily down past the fleshy nub of her tongue and into her throat.
"Good. This'll make sure your arm doesn't turn into a searing, wailing chunk of fiery agony overnight."
Despite still being angry over her missed chance with Astrid, Siari gave Gabriella a smile and a nod.
"Next time, you come straight to me with this kind of thing, that clear?"
Siari made her face look guilty even though she didn't feel that way at all, and looked down.
She felt Gabriella's fingers tap on her wet shoulder and her voice said, "Come on, don't give me that look." Siari could tell she was smiling back. "I'm just concerned, that's all. Wouldn't want to see you lose a limb or your life. We care about you too much for that."
She cared about her family too, but was it in the same way? Did she care for Gabriella like Gabriella cared for her? It was a strange thing to ask oneself, and she hadn't asked herself questions like those for as long as she could remember. Before, she'd just assumed that people saying they cared meant they could be more easily deceived or manipulated, or were simply more loyal. But these last few days, with everything that had happened, the scares she'd gotten, the doubts that had overcome her, she wasn't all that certain anymore. Maybe people saying they cared meant something more. Something that wasn't just useful to her.
Maybe.
"You alright? Seen a ghost?"
Siari shook her head, banning the doubts from her mind, and just flitted her fingers in front of her eyes, making a ditzy face.
"Oh, right," Gabriella grinned. "One of those moments."
The water was getting cold again, and Siari quickly slid forward, submerging her head and rinsing her hair, and got out, Gabriella wrapping the big cotton towel around her. After a few sniffs, the Dunmer made a content face and said, "Much better. No young man in Falkreath Hold would be safe from you, smelling like that."
Siari had her doubts about that, but still, it was a massive improvement. Wrapped in the big brown towel, her hair wet, Siari gave Gabriella a smile in thanks, stomping her bare feet against the cold.
"Brought you fresh clothes too," Gabriella said, nudging her chin at the garments on a nearby stool. "I'll let you get dressed."
Siari made her smile broaden and freed one arm from the towel, bopping a fist against her chest as a sign of gratitude.
"That's alright," Gabriella said, "You can repay me in taking over my room-cleaning duty tomorrow. Oh, and before I forget, Astrid has a new job for you. I've taken the liberty to do some preparatory work, so come see me before you leave." With that, she exited, taking her basket with her.
Towelling herself quickly, Siari stepped into the underpants Gabriella had left, laced them, and wrapped the breast-bindings around herself, shifting from foot to foot against the cold. Goosebumps stood out on her skin, but better goosebumped and clean, than the way she'd been before. She pulled the stopper and let the dirty water rush back into the spring, to be taken along with the clean water, back underground. Where it went, she had no idea. It was funny to think about. Her bathwater probably made a long journey underground, for miles and miles, and ended up in a river somewhere, after seeing all kinds of underground vistas that no human being would ever lay eyes on.
The door opened, and Siari reflexively snatched up the towel and held it in front of her so it hid her only modestly garmented body, in case the intruder wasn't Gabriella returning to pick something up, but one of the more male members of the family. She wasn't a fan of incest, even if it was only of the visual kind.
"It's only me."
It turned out not to be Gabriella, nor any of the family members who urinated while standing up.
Siari didn't rightly know how to react to Astrid's presence. She'd hoped to surprise her, but with Gabriella stupidly announcing her presence already, it was Astrid who got the drop on her, rather than the other way around.
All Siari could manage was a semi-confident head bob.
"How'd your job go?" Astrid asked, leaning against the door post, looking completely relaxed. Damn it, she'd had time to prepare herself.
Still, Siari frowned and shook her head.
"Really? What happened?"
Siari dropped the towel and pointed at the clothes on the stool, giving Astrid an impatient look. She wasn't going to report to Astrid in her underwear.
"Oh, of course," Astrid said, trying to sound considerate. Siari knew it was just an act. "Go ahead. I was just about to take a bath myself."
In an uncomfortable silence, Siari got dressed, putting on the clothes Gabriella had laid out for her, and pulled the soft leather boots on while Astrid scooped buckets from the spring to the kettle. When she was dressed, Siari wrote a short report about the job. It'd be pointless to accuse Astrid now, so she just wrote,
was alright
had accident
strange guy tried to kill me
no idea who or why
got away though
went fine otherwise
Best not give too many details just now. Astrid didn't have to know she was a suspect. When Siari was done, Astrid emptied the last bucket in the kettle and shoved the poker into the fire a few times, reviving it.
Then she read the paper with a frown while Siari brushed her hair. "Hmmm. Any idea who this person was?"
She shook her head at Astrid. The less she knew Siari knew, or suspected, the better.
"Strange." Was that relief Siari registered on her face? It was too subtle, and the bathroom too dark, to tell. "I'll definitely look into this. Don't want my family members being harassed by strange people."
Sure you don't, and sure you will.
"In the meantime, your next job's lined up. The first phase of Amaund Motierre's plan."
She'd almost forgotten about this whole emperor-assassination malarkey between all the intrigue here at Sanctuary. She was actually relieved to do a regular job again. She motioned for Astrid to go on.
The woman cast a brief eye at the kettle, the water slowly heating, then explained, "To kill the Emperor, we must first be able to get to him. There's a wedding occurring very soon, and you're going to make sure it leads right a funeral." Astrid unbuckled her leather jerkin. "The bride's funeral, to be exact."
Sure, a mark wasn't any less eligible because it was getting married.
"It seems the wedding will be some kind of symbol, a union between Stormcloaks and Imperials or some such political tripe. Your job will be to prevent that wedding, and send a clear message to the Emperor that the people of Skyrim will not abide a peace treaty. This should send him to Skyrim to intercede personally."
The why didn't matter. If the Night Mother approved, she would execute the contract, no matter the reasons. Simple.
"There's a bonus from Motierre in it if you fulfil a special," Astrid chuckled, "and rather entertaining condition. The bride must die when all eyes on her, meaning during her speech." She added, returning to seriousness, "This does mean you'll be at a far bigger risk during that moment, however, so think carefully on whether you want to fulfil this condition or not. I'd rather have less spectacle and get you back here in one piece than satisfy Motierre but see my beloved daughter cut down or swinging from the gallows."
It sounded sincere enough, but was it? It was so hard to tell with this woman. Usually strong emotions made a person much more readable, but here, they were so conflicting in Astrid that they just made her completely opaque. There was all kinds of feelings and emotions there, and they made everything so contradictory. Even the Night Mother had trouble reading her, so Siari supposed that meant she shouldn't even bother trying.
Astrid shrugged off her jerkin and plucked at her shirt, stuck against her sweaty skin. "That's basically it. The wedding takes place the day after tomorrow, in Solitude. There'll be some big-heads there, including Jarl Elisif the Fair. I don't know how Fair she actually is, but if she's an ugly troll with pig-ears, I want to know, alright?"
Damn it Astrid. It was these kinds of things that made her such a tricky person to gauge. She should be annoyed with Siari to the point of hostility, and yet here she was, light-hearted and making jokes. Perhaps it was some kind of relief, but why would she be relieved if she'd been the one betraying him to the Jorrvaskr-head case in the first place? And why would she be relieved if she didn't know about it beforehand? Damn it.
"I know the day after tomorrow is soon, but I've sent a few people ahead to prepare. Gabriella probably already told you about it, and go see Babette before you leave too. Veezara's got a few pointers as well. We're all focused on these contracts now. But get some rest first."
Astrid's smile looked genuine enough. Argh, Siari didn't know whether to hug the woman or stab her. Astrid unbuckled her belt and said, sounding as friendly as she had been before the whole Listener thing started, "Go on, grab a bite to eat, then go close your eyes. I won't see you when you leave tomorrow, I've got some things to take care of, but we'll talk when you're back, alright?"
Siari only gave her a curt nod and left the bathroom. Damn Astrid. She'd gotten lucky with Gabriella bumping into her. And now, Siari still couldn't be sure it was her. She suspected strongly, yes, but it wasn't certainty. Even the Night Mother still had her doubts.
And getting rid of a fellow family member without certainty would be a bad move. With that thought, it dawned on Siari that this just might be the eventual conclusion to this entire rivalry. There might come a day when she'd have to murder Astrid. Her surrogate mother, who'd inducted her into the family and surrounded her with love, until the whole Listener business had begun.
But if these last events were Astrid's doing, it meant her beloved mother already had plans in place to get Siari out of the way, and had already started enacting those. She'd have to be extremely wary, and prepared to set aside her reservations and get Astrid before the woman got her, despite her realization that the consequences might be disastrous. Surrogate mother or not, if it came to 'kill or be killed', Siari knew event he slightest hesitation would be too much.
She couldn't let on that she suspected Astrid though. Confronting her would serve no more purpose now, and would make things worse either way.
And what to think of her friendliness just now? It could have been acted, but Siari was definitely convinced there had been some genuine affection there. It couldn't be relief, she'd determined that already, and to assume it was a desire to put things behind them would be wishful thinking indeed. Jealousy didn't just disappear overnight.
As she made her first step down the stairs back to the main cave, warmth flushed through her body when she realized the paper stand was still there in the bathroom, along with the last page, with on it, the big fat letters saying,
NO
SOMEONE TOLD
Ah, damn it, damn it! It was too late now! Astrid would read, and she'd know that… argh, this just went more sour every minute! Maybe if she could –
"It's no fair, Siari."
A young girl's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she quickly got her composure back.
"I love weddings," Babette complained, walking up to Siari. "Astrid should have given this contract to me. Instead, she's got me visiting cities," her eyes rolled, "assessing security, how boring. And meanwhile, you get to marvel at wedding dresses, dancers, music and excellent food."
Even though her thoughts were still with the damn paper on the damn bookstand, Siari gave Babette a grin that said, hey, not my fault I get to do the fun stuff.
"Pft. I'm starting to suspect you of being Astrid's pet," Babette joked, then came closer. "Listen, I can help, though. Astrid sent me to scout out the place, and I'm guessing the wedding will be in the Temple of the Divines, in Solitude. If so, the bride will probably address the crowd from the balcony." She tittered. "They always do when they get married in the Temple of the Divines. Have been doing that for years and years and years."
Years and years and years? Babette was hardly older than twelve. Siari began to seriously wonder if the child wasn't completely wrong in the head.
"So above that balcony, right? There's a gargoyle statue. It's, like, really old, and there have been numerous priests who've already written letters of complaint, saying how dangerous it is and how it has to be fixed to make sure it doesn't fall. As in, onto the balcony and on top of people." With a grin, she added, "But you know, letters of complaint…" She made a gesture of crumpling up a paper and throwing it over her shoulder.
With a bounce, she walked to her room and called after Siari, "Just saying."
Hm, good to know. It would be better to focus on the job for now, anyway. Speculating and racking her brains over the Astrid-thing would just prove fruitless and tiresome. She went to the kitchen for a light meal before bed, and walked in on Veezara and Festus Krex sampling the soup together and giving their opinions to each other. Predictably the old man found it under-seasoned, and Veezara complained that the vegetables didn't have enough aroma.
"Ah, my lovely," Festus greeted her with a broad smile. "How does the evening find you?"
"You smell nice," Veezara remarked before she could answer. Right, the Argonian could pick up smells a mile away. He closed his reptilian eyes. "Freshly bathed. Gabriella's fragrances truly are tiny miracles."
She just smiled at them and raised her hand in greeting. It was nice to see them again, too. They'd also heard about her job, and while Veezara ladled a bowl full of soup, Festus took a hump of bread from the pantry, and after a furtive look around, also took out two sweetrolls, one for Siari and one for himself. He sat down beside her, treasuring the pastry, and said quietly to Siari, "I won't tell Astrid if you won't."
Cheered up, Siari took one of the sweetrolls and set it beside her plate, so she could eat it when she was done with her meal of soup-soaked bread.
During dinner, Veezara explained that he'd already done some preliminary work on her job as well. He'd mostly studied the escape route, telling her there was a stairwell under the bridges of one of the towers, near the market. He gave her a word of caution in the end, telling her that if a contract sounded simple, it meant that it almost certainly wouldn't be so. Getting in would be one thing, but getting out would be far more dangerous. To facilitate the getting in, he told Siari he'd stolen a white, rather festive young lady's dress and suggested she wear it.
Nazir came to join them halfway, cautioning her that Vittoria Vici, the bride, was the Emperor's cousin, and slaughtering her at her wedding wasn't his idea of prudence. The guards would cut an assassin down where she stood, given half a chance, and even the wedding guests might join in, out for blood. He also provided some background. Apparently the significance of murdering the Emperor's cousin as she was about to marry a prominent Nord and known militant of the Stormcloak faction would be seen as an act of aggression by either or both of the warring groups, an attempt to destroy any possibility of a diplomatic solution. This would cause the Emperor himself to come to Skyrim, after which the rest of the plan could be set in motion.
Festus Krex' advice was mostly centred around burning things: setting the bride on fire, burning the curtains as a distraction, and even setting the whole temple ablaze. Siari chuckled at every one of his suggestions.
Nazir, finally, warned her that while they all had a part to play in this assassination, Siari would be the one taking the biggest risk by executing it. As if she didn't know that already. Veezara reminded her that she needed to fear neither guards nor guests as long as she remained unseen. Festus, eventually, offered to come along and sling a few fireballs in case things got hairy.
The meal was ended on a lighter note, with Festus telling a story about a cheating couple accidentally setting each other and the whole house on fire, and her stomach filled and her spirits lightened, Siari went to her bedroom where she found Gabriella, ready to turn in as well.
The evenings when they were both free were always nice, Gabriella talking about this and that while Siari wordlessly listened, both to the words Gabriella spoke, and to the way sleep slowly took over Gabriella's speech, until it trailed off and finally stopped, replaced by gentle breathing. It made Siari feel calm and at peace.
This time Gabriella talked to her about the Temple of the Divines and about the balcony Babette had mentioned. Apparently she'd placed a little gift there for Siari, promising it'd be the easiest, most spectacular and most straightforward way to let the wedding turn tragic, but that it would give her away as the assassin unless she was very careful.
By the time she was done explaining, sleep had brought her a gentle and peaceful silence, and Siari closed her eyes as well.
Shadowmere had been waiting for her as she exited Sanctuary at the break of dawn, her belly full with bread and cold soup, and her mount had carried her almost all the way to Solitude in a single day, and after a night of sleeping in the rough, she arrived in the city as the sun showed its first rays over the horizon, changing clothes in a small grove before patting Shadowmere on the side of the neck and silently saying she'd be back. She stowed her backpack and clothes in a small pit and covered it with rocks and leaves, then walked to the city walls, dressed in a fine white dress for the first time in her life, and feeling pretty, even though the dress had a bit too much cleavage which both showed a bit too much skin, and made her a bit insecure about her small breasts. Still, she felt gorgeous. She untied her ponytail and let her hair fall over her bare shoulders.
The city was brightly decorated, wreaths, flowers and banners hanging everywhere, flying and bobbing in the wind, which was still cold but promised to become a refreshing breeze as the sun spread its warmth over the city. The wedding seemed to be a big affair, because the entire city was in a festive mood. Siari almost felt bad about having to throw the whole thing into ruin.
Almost.
A soldier passed by her, clearly Imperial army from the looks of his armour, smiled at her and greeted her with a friendly, "Bridesmaid."
Not quite, friend. Not quite.
She hadn't been able to hide a knife or dagger anywhere, because, well, it would be a bit noticeable, but between Gabriella's present and Babette's advice, she'd probably find a way to make it work. She didn't know where the Temple of the Divines was, since she didn't know Solitude at all, but that was soon remedied. She pulled the bright red sleeve of a young nobleman holding a goblet of wine, in conversation with two soldiers, and flashed her most innocent smile.
"Yes, what is it?" the nobleman asked, his eyes dismissive. He clearly wasn't as charmed by Siari's appearance as the soldier had been. She wasn't exactly smitten with him too, the flat shoulder-length hair and the hooked nose making him look like a self-loving rat.
Still, she held up the paper she'd prepared, saying,
Temple of the Divines?
"Yes?" the noble asked, looking down his hooked nose at her. "What of it, commoner?"
Ugh, was this guy serious? She let out a grunting sigh and pointed at the various streets, making a questioning face.
"Oh, you accost me for directions. How charmingly insolent of you. Also quaint how you can read and write, but not speak. Usually it's the other way around. The Temple is up this hill, past the inn, and then in the direction of the castle. Now go uh," he shooed her away, "milk the cows or something."
Dung eater.
Still, she wasn't prepared to let this fop spoil her day, so she walked on. Two children ran in her direction, then past her, but the boy threw a flower at Siari as he passed her on his stubby legs, shouting, "You need flowers in your hair, lady!"
Well, why not. She picked up the fallen yellow mountain flower and let the stalk slide between two locks of her hair.
As she neared the Temple, the streets became busier and the sun became warmer. Commoners and noblemen alike made their way up the hill, to the place where the wedding would be held. It was likely to start early in the day, for maximum drinking time, so Siari would have to hurry. She'd figure out how to get in without an invitation later.
Eventually, she made it to the Temple, a massive construction that looked more like a citadel than an actual place of worship. The walls were thick, and made of blocks of bluestone, and crenelated on top. Another thing it had in common with a castle was the number of guards. There were more than a few of them, though Siari assumed they would have increased the number for the wedding. The Temple was ringed with a battlement twice as high as the actual building, and halfway up was a balcony, its railing lined with flowers and drapes hung against the wall. That would be the place where the bride was to address the guests. Good.
She stopped and thought, while observing the entrance, on how to get in. Sure enough, there was a gap in the ring wall where she stood, and people filed in through there, but those probably had an invitation.
Although…
When she observed the people more clearly, she noticed that not a single one presented any kind of document to the two guards at the entrance. Maybe nobody needed an invitation for this wedding? It was possible, that this wedding was so significant that everyone was invited. Good, she could just shuffle on in. She looked the part, definitely.
After making sure enough people didn't show an invitation, she took her chances and just walked in with the crowd, past the guards.
"Wait… I know you!" a gruff man's voice called behind her.
Oh shit, no. She froze in her tracks, all kinds of thoughts going through her, Astrid had snitched, someone had recognized her, she'd acted suspiciously, the guards knew everyone and didn't recognize her, all kinds of possibilities raced through her head as she felt warmth flushing up her chest. She risked a look back and saw one of the guards point at her. She began walking.
"You. Stop right there."
Shit, shit, shit. She did no such thing, just kept moving, hoping to get a chance to disappear in the crowd, but it was nowhere that thick in the Temple's courtyard. Damn it, no, no, no!
"I said, stop!" Hasty, determined footsteps came toward her.
Siari stopped moving now, screwing her eyes shut and hoping she'd get a chance to talk (or write) her way out of it before they stripped her lovely white dress off her, tore the flower from her hair, and hanged her from the gallows for all to see.
The guardsman shouldered past her, bumping into her so hard she almost lost her footing, and proceeded to grab the collar of a blonde-haired woman with a sharp face, dressed in leather, who'd been walking in front of her. Had she seen that face somewhere before? Probably not.
"Thieves' Guild scum aren't welcome here." The guard dragged the woman back to the exit, giving Siari a quick apology as he stomped by. "Sorry for the bump, dear." As she watched over her shoulder, the guard shoved the thief out so hard she fell to her hands and knees, and gave her a sharp kick in the backside, sending her with her face cracking onto the cobblestones.
Siari breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. For a minute there, she thought she was going to swing at the end of a rope, or feel her head fall into the basket.
Not this time, Arkay. Not this time.
She looked up at the Temple walls and the balcony. There was indeed a gargoyle above it, so Babette had been right about that at least. Now all she had to do was get up there, find Gabriella's present, and sit tight until the speech began. It was still early, and most of the pews on the courtyard weren't occupied yet. Instead people stood talking in groups, drinking wine, laughing and gesticulating busily. Everyone, even the poorest-looking, had done some effort to dress festively, even if it was just a few ribbons tied to their clothes.
Getting up there would be the tricky part. She assumed that was done by the doorways in the side of the walls, since they appeared to lead to stairs, from what she could see, but her view was blocked by a burly guard on every side.
Forcing her way through would be impossible. Too many people, too many guards. Besides, it's not like she could take either of the guards anyway. She wasn't a fighting machine after all. She thought back to the lucky throw she'd done in Jorrvaskr, her dagger striking the young woman right in the chest, and realized she never wanted to be in such a dangerous position again. Kicking the life out of her, feeling the ribs crack and the soft cushions of her breast tissue tear beneath her feet had given her a massive rush, but it could have ended differently, and she realized she'd gotten lucky then.
No, no more violence, just clean, safe kills.
But of course, there were always alternatives to fighting. Her eye fell on a pile of flower wreaths lying in a large woven basket. Hmm, this would work.
She shot a brief look around, then took several of the wreaths in her arms. If the other guard had believed she was a bridesmaid, then maybe so would this one. She looked at both sides and chose the more gullible-looking soldier, a man with a potato nose, red from drinking, and a rather simple expression in his eyes.
The best way would be to simply walk up to him, the wreaths in her arms, and smile. With any luck, he'd be clever enough to realize she wanted to go up there to 'hang the wreaths', and not clever enough to realize she actually didn't belong there, and most likely, neither did the wreaths.
She took a breath and enacted her plan, walking up to the man, looking as cheerful and charming as possible, making sure her fringe and the hair falling down her back bounced as she walked.
"Oh hello girl," the guardsman said, his eyes small and watery. He looked like he was nursing a not insignificant hangover. Probably pre-emptive revenge for being on duty and not allowed to drink today. "Sorry, Jarl Elisif has strictly forbidden us to decorate our uniforms. No flowers, no ribbons, no uh… wreaths around our necks."
Right. She hadn't expected this to happen. Still, unfazed, she made a vapid, cheerful face at him ('oh don't be sil-ly!') and pointed her eyes at the balcony. The guard's bloodshot eyes followed her gaze, and then understanding dawned on his crumpled features. "Oh, of course. Hanging the wreaths, eh?"
She broadened her smile, relieved, and nodded vigorously, making sure she appeared as dumbly upbeat as possible.
"Go ahead, little flower," the guard said, stepping out of the way, "though you should save some flowers for yourself. I'd stick a few in your hair if I was allowed to."
No, you charmer. You're not allowed to. The remark didn't make her shudder, after all, it was harmless enough, but still, no. She gave him a false look of being flattered, then scooted past him and up the stairs. He hadn't even noticed she hadn't said a word. Hangovers would do that to a man, she supposed. And well, maybe also some fluttering eyelashes, a pretty dress and a decent amount of cleavage, such as it was.
BALCONY
NO ACCESS
Fine. It's not like she needed to be on the balcony anyway. She ignored the sign blocking off the corridor and followed the stairs upward, also ignoring the sign that told her she had no access there either. As if such a sign would discourage anyone with bad intentions. I'm here to murder people but the sign says I can't pass, damn, foiled again.
Up she went, emerging on the ring wall, which was thankfully free of guards. Most of them were deployed in the courtyard, surrounding streets, and inside the temple, and there were doubtless some putting on their parade uniforms now.
If she stayed low, no one could see her from the ground, but she had to make sure the guard who'd let her pass was convinced she was really up there to hang the flowers, so she crouch-walked to the gargoyle, and from between the crenels, looked at the guard until she saw him looking up at her to check if she was doing what she said she was going to do. When she saw him look upwards, she pretended to come up from picking up a wreath, and without looking down at him, acted like she was tying the flower piece's ribbon to one of the hooks. She stayed visible as long as she dared, until she was convinced the guard was satisfied, then ducked back behind the wall, making sure a few wreaths were hung so he wouldn't get suspicious at the lack of flowery decorations.
Now she waited, hoping no fussy wedding planner would notice the unplanned wreaths and go into a foot-stomping and arm-flailing tantrum. From between the crenels, she saw more and more people gradually filling the courtyard, until there were close to a thousand. This would be a challenging getaway if she got spotted. Still, there was a tall, leafless tree near the wall that led to the other side. A leap of faith and a well-timed grab and she could just climb down and run.
While she waited, she looked for Gabriella's present, tucked away, according to the generous giver, behind a loose stone in the third crenel from the left. After first searching for a loose stone in the third crenel on the left side, she realized Gabriella probably meant the left according to the person standing in the courtyard, and crept over to the other side, rolling her eyes at her own ineptitude. This time, she found the loose stone immediately, prying it loose with her fingers and reaching into the hollow. Her fingers touched a long wooden object, and she pulled it out. It was a shortbow, not exactly Siari's favourite weapon, or one she could use with any impressive degree of skill, but it would do for this short distance. A small note was bound to it. She opened it and read Gabriella's jagged and hard script,
Don't forget the potion
Ah, there was a potion to go with it. There was another line.
And the arrows
A crude drawing of a smiling face was added. Siari smiled to herself. No, Gabriella, she wouldn't forget the arrows. She recovered those from the hiding place in the stone, and also took out a round glass bottle filled with a semi-transparent yellow liquid. One of Gabriella's little break-the-rules concoctions, this one probably brewed for giving the user better aim and stability to use a bow. She didn't know how long the effect lasted, but it wouldn't be a matter of hours, so she just held it in her hand, waiting for the speech.
After some time, horns sounded, and several soldiers with musical instruments began a slow, stately melody to announce the coming of the to-be-wed couple.
Finally.
Siari risked a peep between the crenels to take a look at the two people at the centre of the festivities. Victoria Vici was a tanned Imperial woman, dressed in a wedding gown of both the brightest white, and the brightest red Siari had ever seen. She was good-looking for her age. The groom looked like… what she thought she remembered her father looked like. Or maybe she only remembered what she'd been told about him. The groom's clothing was less festive, a dark brown pair of trousers and a green tunic, bear fur draped over his shoulders. His dark blond hair was tied back in braids, and his beard was bound together with a metal ring.
They proceeded through the courtyard, between the benches, and then split up, each taking the stairs to the balcony on their side. They would be reunited on the balcony, where a small wooden pavilion was built, with two chairs under the wooden arch. Candelabras stood at both sides, candles burning almost invisibly in the bright sunlight.
The music kept playing, and smiles were on all the faces as they applauded the couple (and doubtless the free wine and snacks they would receive later on). Siari wondered how many of these people actually knew either of the two love birds. Her eyes wandered, and they stopped at a woman in noble garb, flanked by two heavily-armed guardsmen. The golden circle she wore around her head made it clear who this was. Astrid would be in for a disappointment. No pig ears on Jarl Elisif the Fair. Quite the contrary, her kind but sad-looking face was perhaps one of the most beautiful Siari had ever seen, the sadness in her eyes actually making her even more breath-taking.
Both parts of the couple were now ascending the stairs, and after a moment, they emerged on the balcony, and with a stately pace, walked towards each other, briefly holding hands, and then sitting down on the high-backed, ornate chairs, waiting for the crowd's applause and cheering to die down.
Siari guessed now would be the time for the bride to speak. She pulled the stopper from Gabriella's potion and gulped it down. As soon as she did so, a strange tranquillity came over her, combined with a greater ability to focus and concentrate.
"My dearest family, friends, and all people gathered here today," she heard a woman's voice announce. That would be the bride. Peeking over the battlement, she saw it was indeed the case. "Today's union is more than the mere wedding of two beloved."
Still kneeling behind the wall, Siari took the bow and nocked an arrow.
"It also signifies a union. A union between Skyrim and Cyrodiil."
Now was the time. Siari popped up from behind the battlement, drew the string, and with the aid of Gabriella's elixir, focused directly on the side of the bride's throat. Sending her to a gasping, gurgling, choking death would certainly send a message that could not be misinterpreted.
"A union between Stormcloak and – "
"Assassin!"
The bride's head turned sharply just as Siari released the bowstring, and the arrow flew towards its target, as if time had slowed through a crawl, giving Siari all the time in the world to curse at the bastard, whoever it was, who had reacted so quickly to her sudden, bow-wielding appearance. The arrow flashed slowly through the air before embedding itself in the woman's torso, just above the collarbone.
Time still progressed at a snail's pace as Siari saw the woman being knocked back by the impact, her legs giving out, sending her to the ground. She knew there was no certainty that this wound was lethal, and it had to be. She tried to pick another arrow off the ground, but before she could, a projectile whizzed past her and clattered to pieces on the wall behind her.
She fell flat and crawled on elbows and knees as more arrows flew overhead. They'd be coming up the stairs any minute now. Shit, shit, shit. She had to finish it.
Her eye fell on the gargoyle statue just ahead. Of course!
She crawled as fast as she could, her elbows and knees first tearing the fabric of her dress and then their own skin as they bumped and scraped over the rough stone. When she reached the gargoyle, she risked a quick peek and saw soldiers racing into the doorways towards the staircases. On the balcony lay the bleeding bride in her wailing groom's arms. For a brief moment, she thought about just jumping for the tree and forgetting about it, but she knew that wasn't an option.
If she failed this contract, Astrid would have every excuse she needed.
She popped back up, and before the eyes and then the arrows found her, set her back against the wall and her feet against the gargoyle, pushing as hard as she could. The stone crunched and cracked, but the gargoyle didn't fall. One soldier released his bowstring, and several more arrows found her, but she ducked down just in time to avoid them.
She popped up again, set her teeth and pushed, her muscles screaming in pain. This time the stone pedestal of the gargoyle broke free, and her feet kicked the air as the enormous weight went plummeting down. No arrows came, and as she threw herself to the ground again, she saw billowing smoke down below, obscuring the bowmen from her sight, and her from theirs.
One guard emerged from the doorway on her level, sword ready, and others followed. It didn't matter where the smoke had come from, she had to get out now. Two soldiers on the wall had readied their arrows, and she only barely avoided them by throwing herself to the side, then leapt to her feet and pushed herself off from the battlement.
She didn't fly far without her enchanted boots.
Her hand clawed for the branch, but it was out of reach. She let out a terrified scream as her hand snatched only air and she went down. The next moment, she felt painful impacts all over her body as she spun and tumbled, going down as if she was being clubbed by a hundred men.
The last impact was softer, and with pain blasting through her body from a thousand places at once, she realized she'd landed on the ground and was still alive. Though every bone in her body hurt from smacking into the branches on the way down, those branches had also saved her life by slowing her fall to a survivable speed. It didn't matter, those guards would shoot her before she could even get to her feet. She briefly closed her eyes and waited for the arrows to tear through her organs and her skull, but nothing came, only confused shouting made its way down to her.
She dared to open her eyes and saw more smoke on the battlements, occasionally broken by a flailing hand that tried to disperse it.
Biting the pain, she got to her feet and realized nothing was irreparably damaged except her dress. The next moment, a dark shape came down next to her, landing in the soft grass. When she'd shaken off her surprise, she recognized Veezara in his Shadowscale leathers.
"I love a good daring escape," he said cheerfully, in his rough Argonian voice. "So I knew I had to come and watch. Nice acrobatics, by the way. Very… daring."
She could only make a sad face at the dress she wore, holding the hems of the skirt between her fingers. The garment was shredded, torn and dirty.
"I'll steal you a new one, don't worry."
The soldiers above, however, had overcome their confusion and now started releasing arrows from within the cloud of smoke. Most missed their mark wildly, but a few embedded themselves in the grassy ground at the two assassins' feet.
"Come," Veezara said, still not sounding at all worried. "Vittoria Vici and her groom are squashed tomatoes. Festus will keep them busy and blinded for a while with his smoke pouches. Can you walk? Let's take that escape route I told you about."