Diamond makes due with the oasis in the main chamber as she shucks off her clothing and bathes, scrubbing herself until her skin hurts, washing her hair twice. When she emerges, she slips into a clean tunic and pants she found in one of the remaining dressers, the sizes a little bit too big, but she doesn't care. Just as she finishes combing out her dripping hair, Babette walks in with her weapons, clean and shining. The Blade of Woe still pulsates red, as if the blood of its victims feeds its power.
"I've taken the liberty of cleaning off your weapons, though the kinks and dents tend to make the look more, experienced." Diamond would've protested, say how the blood stains add to the accustomed fear, but after feeling Astrid's blood on her hands, she's more than happy to see the blade clean.
"And also, this." Babette hands Diamond her mask that she had discovered off of the corpse of a Dragon Priest long ago while exploring with Libby. She hasn't worn the mask since . . . since Helgen. What made her stop? Either way, she takes the mask, beautifully polished and gleaming with a magical aura, and rubs her thumb along the surface.
Diamond looks to Babette with as much sincerity as she can muster. "Thank you."
Babette simply smiles and continues to help Nazir in packing up anything they can salvage.
Daggers, hunting knives – she takes whatever she can salvage and strap onto her belt or tuck into her boots. She takes a handful of gold and jewels and shoves them into her pocket, too. As she straps her weapons, she takes the darkest cloak that Babette had sewn, every string and fiber filled with magic, she slides a smooth black mask into her cloak pocket. She takes a Dwarven warhammer out from Astrid's personal collection and straps it across her back.
Her cloak whispers against the floor then flows behind her as she bounds up the steps. Stepping outside, Shadowmere huffs and turns his head at attention. At first, he takes a few steps back as she approaches, but then walks towards her. Diamond doesn't budge as the horse stops right in front of her.
Shadowmere's nostrils flare, and he lowers his head so his eyes meet hers. Diamond could've sworn the steed's eyes were damp. Diamond holds out her hand, and Shadowmere presses his snout to her palm. His nose feels soft, like velvet. Slowly Diamond brushes her hand along the strong steed's neck until she has both her arms wrapped around his massive neck, and she feels the horse's head press into her back. Perhaps he is the only other creature that can even imagine the pressure of her loss.
"Come on boy," Diamond sighs as she hoists herself up. "We've got a soul to steal."
Diamond doesn't even register the tingle of the fast-traveling map as she opens her eyes and finds herself outside Whiterun's stables. She leaves Shadowmere at the stables and makes her way up the hill, not even sparing the guards a glance of salutations as she shoves open the gates and their groan in distress.
Cloaked in darkness, she stalks through the streets of Whiterun. Diamond doesn't need directions from citizens to make her way down towards the marketplace. She knows the path by memory now, each step, each turn. She smiles grimly a she flings her hood over her head.
Citizens lift their heads to her as she approaches and immediately, even desperately scramble out of her way. It makes no difference how many see her. None would bother her tonight.
It is war upon them all. Let them tremble in fear at what they had unleashed.
Moonlight spills onto the houses and stalls, illuminating their wares. Her cape billows behind her, her face remaining expressionless beneath her obsidian mask as she moves through the streets. Her gloved hands clench. If that little bastard had the slightest thing to with the death of her sanctuary –
She didn't care how many would witness it, how many guards will arrive. She will gut that fucking pick alive and chop him up into bits to throw in the fire.
Diamond shoves open the doors, causing them to swing in swiftly and bang at the wall. All of the guests turn their heads to her, most of them turning pale, a small portion of them putting their hands to their weapons.
Ignoring their gazes, Diamond prowls her way towards the back room, the barkeep wise enough not to stop her. She keeps her eyes ahead on the door as she passes a couple of regulars enjoying a card game of which they paused to make sure Diamond doesn't attack them.
Diamond bangs open the door, hearing the lock crack behind her as she steps into the room. Amaund Motierre is startled as he was in the middle of reading a book. He immediately scowls. "What is it? I said I didn't wish to" – Diamond approaches, not saying anything as she nears – "be . . . disturbed."
"We have unfinished business, Motierre." Diamond says, her voice like gravel. She harshly kicks the door shut, and it latches with a whiplash stop.
His eyes widen, his face paling, but excitement sparking in his eyes. Diamond wanted to pluck his eyes out and squish them beneath her boots. "By the gods." He respires. "You . . . you're alive! But I heard . . . your Sanctuary . . ."
Diamond silences him by drawing a long, jeweled dagger and pressing it into his neck. "You have one sentence to convince me not to kill you."
His skin turns to the color of death. "P-Please! You mustn't think I had anything to do with that! I wanted the Emperor dead! The true Emperor!" he pleads. "I still do! It was Maro! He –!"
Motierre stops his words dead and pants as she brings her face close to his. The tip of the dagger is still pressed to his throat. There is nothing beneath her cowl – nothing of this world. She has no face. "The Emperor. The real Emperor. Where is he?"
The question strangely seems to calm him. "You mean, after all that's transpired, the Dark Brotherhood will still . . . honor the contract?"
Diamond remains silent, but when she removes her dagger, his face lightens with a smile.
"Why, this is astounding news! Wonderful news!" he says as he rubs his neck. Diamond doesn't sheathe her dagger, but listens intently. "The Emperor is still in Skyrim, but not for long. He's aboard his ship, the Katariah, moored offshore in the Solitude Inlet. But you must hurry!"
Diamond narrows her eyes at him, and he withdraws slightly, clearing his throat.
"I-If you can get onboard that ship. Kill Titus Mede II, as contracted . . . I will reveal the location of the dead drop that holds your payment." Montierre promises.
"Commander Maro. Where is he?" Diamond demands.
"Ah, yes," Motierre laughs. "I can imagine you'd want to settle the score. Last I heard, he was at the Solitude docks, conducting the Emperor's departure."
Diamond finally sheathes her dagger and exits the room more quietly. As she leaves the Bannered Mare, she starts to conjure up ways of making Maro pay.
At the docks, Commander Maro watches as his men work back and forth, loading up the ships full of the Emperor's things. He is starting to think that things will go well, and even considered keeping ties to the Faceless, when he hears a light but heavy thump. He looks to find the body of one of his guards dead, an arrow lodged in his throat.
Then she appears. She comes through the fog, no more than a sliver of darkness. She doesn't run – she just walks with that insufferable swagger.
The Commander snarls, suppressing his surprise. "No, it can't be. You're dead!" he shouts.
One step at a time, she approaches. Fine. He would really, really enjoy making her suffer as much as he had during the death of his son.
Smiling, the Commander draws his broadsword. Given her size, he can overpower her easily. And in this forgotten street, he can take his own sweet time doing what he wanted.
Still she approaches, and the warhammer on her back whines as she draws it. The moonlight glints off the long blade. Probably a gift from her pricey lover.
She doesn't say anything as she nears.
And the Commander doesn't say anything as he rushes at her, swiping for her head with both hands.
She steps aside, dodging him. Commander Maro lunges again. But faster than he can follow she ducks and slashes her hammer across his shins. Swiping at his feet, he hits the ground and grunts for air. Diamond aims her hammer at him and merely smiles wickedly, her blonde hair glinting in the moonlight.
The Commander, quickly thinking on his feet, takes out a dagger from his belt and knocks her warhammer aside. He pushes to his feet, and runs. She can hear him whispering a pea to his soft-hearted gods as Diamond stares at his pathetic, fleeing form. Let him think he stood a chance while she stalks towards him, still smiling.
She gives the Commander a head start into the cobblestone roads and into the fields of towering grass, so high that it is well over their heads.
Diamond counts to ten, because she wants the hunt. This is the first bit of fun she's had in months Libby wouldn't approve, but this is Diamond's profession. And even though she might understand the loss with the murder of her father, she'll never understand Diamond's lust for vengeance. And she will be damned if she didn't enjoy it.
Diamond walks into the field, twirling her daggers as she does. She slips through the grasses, no more than shadow and mist.
She finds the Commander lost in the middle of the field, softly bleating for fear and calling for help. And when he turns, his bladder loosening at the sight of the blood and the steal of her blade, and the wicked, wicked smile, Diamond lets him scream all he wants before she rips out his throat.
After dumping the remains of Commander Maro at the front gates of Solitude, Diamond makes her way round towards the docks where she can spot the Imperial flag of the Katariah. She pulls out her mask and carefully sets it over her face.
She opens her eyes and looks around the world with stunning clarity, smells it, tastes it, and breathes it like the finest wine. Looking towards the water, it glimmers like pixie dust as Diamond starts to walk towards it.
The water sways away from her, the magic of the mask creating a sort of shield as Diamond continues walking, the water avoiding her like a plague, until she's beneath surface.
Her boots take up some of the moisture from the sand as she navigates her way around and up towards the ship's shadows above. She soon locates the anchor and chain, and with her strengthened grip, hoists herself up, up and up until she breaches the surface and slips into the porthole.
Dropping to her stomach as she enters, Diamond slithers her way so her head peaks out from behind a stack of crates and scatterings of flour. She can hear a sailor sigh. ". . . and that's the last one. All right, enough of this."
With her clothing dry, it spares her the need to attempt to sneak silently without sounding her squeaky shoes. Keeping her hammer strapped to her back, she draws her dagger with the sharpest blade shaped like a needle, made for stabbing. Her mask suddenly grows warm for the quickest second and her vision becomes multicolored, ableing her to see through the walls and find the heated bodies of the sailors. There are three total. Easy.
Diamond tosses a small marble towards one of the shelves, and one of the sailors stops and goes to inspect, while the other stands guard to wait. Sweeping through the shadows, Diamond small gust of wind blowing out the candles of a tall candelabrum. "What was that?" the sailor gasps.
She holds her breath, keeping still as a dear as one of the men – a tall, bearded farmer with hands the size of dinner plates – steps into the room. The man didn't even scream before Diamond slices out his throat ear to ear.
When she's done with him, she slips up the stairs and the second sailor also didn't get a chance to scream before Diamond guts him with two swipes of her Warhammer. But the third sailor comes looking for his companions. And when he beholds Diamond standing there, one hand gripping the handle of the Warhammer twisted in his friend's insides, her other hand holding him to her as she uses her dagger to tear out his throat, the man runs.
Not even four steps were taken before a knife embeds in the back of his neck, and he falls with his hand outstretched, barely an inch from the door to his cabin.
As she makes her through the ship, up above she can hear the muffles pounding of a blacksmith working in the nightly hours of the night. Up ahead is another small cabin where a sailor groggily rises to his feet. Diamond rushes towards him and he can only catch a glimpse of Diamond's pink-tipped hair before Diamond hurls her Warhammer, whacking the man's head clean off.
"Is someone there?" Diamond freezes when she hears the voice of an Oculatus agent and the whining of his sword as he draws it. Diamond wipes out the candles of the room, bathing her in darkness as the agent steps into the doorway. Diamond crouches in the corner, purposely leaving the body and a small dotted trail of blood.
The agent cautiously approaches and Diamond gives him a flash of her daggers before she swipes for his exposed side, one blade angled to sink straight into his ribs, the other slashing for the throat. A move she'd practiced for years and years, as easy as breathing. There's the sound of impaled flesh and gagging blood, some of which Diamond can feel splatter onto her Brotherhood armor. Yanking her daggers out, the body had barely hit the ground before Diamond is up to the second level of the ship.
"Well, it's all over now." Diamond stops dead, pressing her back against the wall as she crouches. There are two more agents sitting together at a table with tankards of ale. "Lieutenant said you can see the smoke from Whiterun."
"Yeah, I'm glad we can finally stand down – getting tired of looking over my shoulder all the time." says another.
Diamond snarls. Hurling one dagger at the skull of one agent, the other one stands at attention Silent as death, Diamond slides up behind him. The fool didn't even know she was there until she brought her mouth to his hear and whispers. "Hail Sithis!"
The man whirls, stumbling into the closest chair. He raises his sword between them, his chest heaving. Diamond merely smiles, her platinum-blonde hair glinting in the candlelight.
The agent's face pales at the blood splattered on her uniform. It would see her bath ad change of clothing was all for not since it only got ruined later. Still, she wonders if the man would've soiled himself from the amount of blood that had coated Diamond when she had slaughtered all of the agents back at the Sanctuary. She draws her Warhammer agonizingly slows, the metal whining exquisitely and gives a soft whoosh of air as she spins in in her hand.
The agent reaches for the bloodied sword of his fallen comrade, but that simple diversion of his eyes and attention earned him the crushing of his skull by Diamond's hammer.
She picks the lock to the door that leads further into the ship, which brings her through to the sleeping quarters of the gents, all of which she easily slices and stabs with her choice of weapon. Collecting all of their gold, and grabbing any spare weapons she can, Diamond ensures the Emperor will have a long and slow death.
She mounts the steps, pressing herself into a storage room at the thud of approaching steps. Each candle she passes, she extinguishes, enveloping the entire hall into ominous darkness. Concealed beneath a black mask and hood, she wills herself to melt into the shadows, to become nothing more than a slip of darkness.
Lightning flashes, illuminating the hallway. The assassin takes a long breath, going over the plans she'd painstakingly memorized. Silent and smooth as a wraith, she moves down the hall.
She passes an Imperial flag before she finds the door to the Emperor's cabin.
Without bothering to pick the lock, Diamond brings her foot up and slams it into the knob of the door. The door swings open, nearly falling off its hinges.
Wordlessly, Diamond walks in.
And for a moment, she stops breathing.
She knew that smell all too well. The tang of blood and the stinging reek of decomposing flesh.
But what she didn't expect the sight of it. "Half-eaten" is a pleasant way to describe what is left the Emperor's rail-thin body as it dangles from a noose tied to one of the rafters of the circular ceiling.
The Emperor's cavity has been split open and his vital organs removed. There is no trace of them. And his face, stripped of its flesh, is still contorted in a silent scream.
A voice speaks.
"And so, once again I prove just hoe stupid and predictable the Dark Brotherhood can be." It purrs.
Diamond recognizes that voice. It's a voice she had heard before, melodic and feminine. It makes her bones crack and splinter, makes her feel the astonishing cold of a winter long since past.
That's when her eyes dare to venture to the long mahogany desk in front of her.
Yards of silk, clouds of powder, brushes, combs, pearls, and diamonds glisten before her eyes. There sits Zusa, with her elbows to the arms of the plush chair, fingers interlaced together. The Unknown member stands off to her right, her pooling cloak enveloping her body. she stands perfectly still.
The first thing Diamond can see is the long translucent cape that flows out and around the corner of the desk. It is not pure white, but rather a greyish offset, and its wide skirts and bodice is encrusted with thousands of minuscule crystals that remind Diamond of the surface of the sea. Swirls of silk thread on the bodice and wide cape make the rose-like designs that can have passed for a work of any master painter. A border of ermine line the neck and provide slender sleeves that only cover her shoulders. Tiny diamond droplets fall from her ears, and her hair is curled and swept up onto her head, strands of pearls woven in. Her grey silk cape has been secured tightly against her shoulders. It isn't fashioned after anything, but the delicate crystal and pearl whorls have been crafted by a skilled hand.
"Come now, don't be shy. You didn't come this far just to stand there gawking." Zusa coyly smiles.
Diamond's feet are leaden. She can't move, nor does she want to be anywhere near Zusa.
Sensing the fear, Zusa continues to smile. "You Brotherhood members are so incredibly pathetic." She purrs. "You played so easily into my plans that it was an embarrassment to watch you all destroy one another. Not to mention that Commander Maro was more than an easy toy in the game."
Diamond's heartbeat pounds so hard her blood is roaring in her ears. She flicks her eyes to the Unknown Member as she stands straight with such control.
"How easy it was to trick Astrid, your Dark Mistress, into believing everything, given her title, which was so wrongly earned." Zusa continues. "Everyone played their parts perfectly, and you killing Maro was merely icing on the cake. But even I am still disappointed that the well-respected Commander would simply put his faith into us, assassins just as you. Poor base of judgment on his part."
There's a moment where Zusa pauses and examines Diamond; blood soaking her uniform and her face. Diamond feels chills run down her spine when she sees Zusa lick her perfectly red top lip with the tip of her tongue.
"Also, just to put your mind at ease, Motierre has already been dealt with. Courtesy of the Emperor's last few words. You can take the reward money as you like. Seeing as how you need it now." Zusa leans forward on the desk. "However I will admit to you, I am impressed, Diamond. I hadn't known there was this . . . ambitions inside of you."
Diamond's lips contort into a snarl. She can feel every one of the restraints she'd locked into place after she rampaged through the Sanctuary snap free.
An icy, endless rage sweeps through her, wiping away everything. The animal tugs harder at its chain, so hard that the collar digs into its neck and blood dribbles down its neck.
"I suppose I could've explored it more, myself. But that's all over now."
Diamond is silent.
"In case you're not able to, process all of this, allow me to impale it into your head." she nearly growls. "I. Won. You killing Maro is just icing on the cake."
Diamond's hands are shaking, so she grips her Warhammer to steady them. She nearly flinches when Zusa
"Now, seeing as how this is a lot to take in, I understand. So, it's only fair that you know exactly who has been assisting me in my endeavors." Zusa smiles wickedly. "Dear Diamond, how do you think I was always one step ahead of you, and how I had always known where you'd be going, and what exactly what weaknesses you had and how I can pick it apart to my own need."
She stays behind the desk, but walks towards the Unknown Member, who still stands still with expert skill. She doesn't even flinch as Zusa's dainty hands reach up and pulls down the hood of her cloak.
The Unknown Member's hair is raven back, and set into a long braid down over her shoulder. Her bangs flow over her forehead, slightly greasy with sweat. Then Zusa delicately reaches her hand around and dips one long-nailed finger into the crook of the mask near the girl's nose and pulls down. The fabric falls so gently down from her face.
That's when Diamond's blood runs cold. She nearly drops her Warhammer.
Those gorgeous hazel eyes she could recognize anywhere. The soft features of her face, the curve of her cheekbones and the expression of pain and sorrow etched on her eyebrows and lips.
Her eyes are gleaming.
Libby.