Author's Note: Hello everyone! Much thanks to everybody who reads/reviews/favs/follows my fic! You guys are awesome, as always! Well, here's chapter 28! Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 28: Hearing Voices

"I had no idea our prisoner would actually be telling the truth." Babette spoke, as she sat at the large dining table across from Ava and the jester, taking in Ava's recollection of events. Much to her surprise, the two of them had shown up unanounced in the middle of the day together. She was rather happy to have some of her old family back, since she'd been stuck in the Sanctuary with nothing but young, boisterous initiates and assassins to keep her company. Quite frankly, she'd been growing tired of being alone with them, despite the fact that their ruckus never bothered her much before. Feasting during the nightly hours was the only thing she could enjoy in peace at the current time. It was especially nice to have Ava back, even if she came bearing bad news.

"Unfortunately..." Ava trailed off, as Babette noted the obvious fear in her features. She watched the young woman fidget nervously, brushing her long raven locks from her eyes. Her pale face appeared flushed from anxiety. "I know the Brotherhood has been under threat for a while now, but this Dragonborn fellow - - he's the hero of legends. All of Skyrim has heard of his triumphs at one time or another. Mix that with what the Night Mother had told me, and you have a big, horrible mess." Ava looked worriedly into Babette's dark eyes. "I won't lie. I'm terrified this time."

"That's very interesting, Ava. I've seen you nervous many times, but I don't recall you mentioning being this fearful. I mean, you've faced many a foe and lived to tell about it. You murdered the Emperor, for Sithis' sake! I'm afraid I don't understand. Just why do you feel this way now, of all times?" Babette questioned her. She couldn't help but wonder why this time was any different. Perhaps it was the weight of being the leader at such a stressful time; she may have reached her limit. Ava was a bit of a gentler soul than the others, after all. Maybe she was finally breaking under all the pressure.

"I don't know..." Ava bit her trembling lip. "There's no way to explain it. It just feels different this time, Babette. I can feel it. I hope I'm wrong." Ava said fearfully, as the jester began to pat her hand to comfort her.

"There, there, Listener..." He cooed softly, as Babette furrowed her brow, feeling suddenly confused.

"Wait a minute, Ava. Weren't you angry with Cicero? I mean, after what he did..." Babette scowled at the jester, who frowned innocently upon hearing her remark. He could act innocent all he wanted, but from what Lielle had previously boasted, he'd slept with that nasty mage and left Ava in tears. Babette felt rather baffled that the two were acting as if nothing had ever happened.

Ava smiled shyly, looking to her Keeper. He returned an equally sheepish grin in her direction. If Babette hadn't witnessed their previous drama with her own dark eyes, she'd have thought the two were hopelessly in love. "Okay, what's going on? I'm dying to know." Babette smirked, intrigued by their change in behavior.

"I think there was a bit of a misunderstanding between us, I guess. We've worked it out." Ava shrugged nonchalantly.

"So, are you two...you know...?" Babette raised an eyebrow, smiling slyly. The whole situation made little sense to her, but she still enjoyed a good romance. The two certainly carried on like lovers, anyway. How would Babette know any different?

"Oh, no! It's not like that. Cicero is a dear friend to me..." She turned to her Keeper, who had an odd look of defeat under his smiling features. "Right, Cicero?"

"Oh, of course, dear Listener. Best friends FOREVER!" He chirped merrily, though Babette could sense he wasn't being sincere. She could tell by his subtle mannerisms that the jester was hiding something. She hadn't spent hundreds of years as an assassin for nothing. If anything, she could meticulously spot a liar. Of course, out of all the people she could read, the fool was her biggest challenge. She'd been tricked by him before, as much as she hated to admit to herself. Still, there was something off about this.

"I guess I'll go unpack my things. Maybe it'll help keep my mind off of everything if I stay busy." Ava's tone darkened once more, as she abruptly left Babette and the jester at the table. She was acting strangely skittish, Babette noted.

Babette watched the young woman leave. She immediately turned her attention to the jester, who'd been intently staring at Ava's bottom while tapping his gloved fingers on the table. "Okay, what's the deal Cicero? I know something's up."

"Why WHATEVER do you mean, dear Un-child?!" The jester yelped, clearly feigning innocence.

"I don't believe for one second that you are just friends. I can tell you're lying, fool. Now, spit it out. I want to know why you're acting so weird - - even for you." She demanded. Babette was quite aware that it was none of her business, but she just had to know. It was far too interesting to let the subject go.

Cicero scanned around himself warily, then leaned in, speaking in a hushed tone. "Cicero and his Listener got into an argument while Cicero was away with the hostage."

"I'm listening." Babette raised an eyebrow, curiously awaiting the juicy details.

"Cicero said some nasty things, and..."

"And?" Babette hung onto his every word.

"Listener admitted her love for faithful Cicero, she did! Oh, but she desires only to be his Listener, and nothing more. Says she's not good at falling in love, or what have you..." Cicero grumbled, obviously frustrated by his dilemma.

"You love her too?" Babette questioned, already aware of the obvious answer. She could tell from the moment the fool pranced his way into the Falkreath Sanctuary for the first time that he was smitten with Ava. It only became more apparent as time lingered on.

"More than STABBING, and Cicero absolutely ADORES stabbing!" He pouted sincerely, thrusting his arm in an invisible stab.

"Then why in the Void did you romp with that awful mage? I get that a man has needs, but that is what your hand is for, dear. You didn't have to go and hurt Ava's feelings in the process." Babette scolded, still sore at him for causing Ava to become distraught and leave.

"Now listen here, little IMP! Cicero TOLD you, he didn't do that! The mage LIED!" He snarled frantically, but still quietly so that Ava wouldn't hear.

"That's what they all say when they get caught." Babette smirked. "But what would I know? I'm only a little girl. It isn't like I've been around hundreds of years to watch these scenarios play out time and again..." She remarked, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"It's TRUE! Cicero SWEARS!" The jester pleaded, hands clasped, seeming frustrated with her disbelief.

He did seem sincere. Of course, one could never be too sure about Cicero. He was as crafty as he was foolish. Nonetheless, he obviously loved Ava. "Is that why you were arguing? Was it over Lielle?"

"No...Cicero grew tired of being teased by his Listener. She rejected him, only to string him about. He grew weary. Made him ANGRY, it did!"

"I don't remember her ever rejecting you. If anything, she's been good to you. I can't say the rest of us would tolerate you so much." Babette snapped, folding her arms in annoyance. Was he lying or just misreading Ava? It all sounded simply absurd.

"Oh, but she DID! Cicero saved her life...offered his love to her...but she LIED! LIED! LIED! Cicero got her to fess up in Falkreath. Well..." Cicero looked about his surroundings anxiously, as he continued. "He was simply trying to PROVOKE her, but with UNEXPECTED consequences. She told him she lied. She LOVES Cicero, but says she can't be with him. Says it's TOO much for her...too DAMAGED, she says..." His voice trailed off sorrowfully. Much to her surprise, Babette actually began to feel sorry for the hopeless fool.

"Hm. I really had no idea. Look, I'll be frank with you if you'd like." Babette said as the jester nodded rapidly, as if hoping to hear the faintest bit of consolation.

"If you ask me, you're doing the right thing now. Ava's a nice girl, but she's right. She's very damaged, Cicero. I've seen people like her before - - not in our family, per se, but I have dealt with them. Many of them were my victims, if that tells you anything. They trust the wrong people. Henceforth, why I can lure my prey off and kill them so easily. These people rarely ever open up out of fear - - especially to the ones they really care for. If anything, they do quite the opposite. They close themselves off to the people they love most, and give in willingly to predators such as myself." She smiled proudly in thinking of her own malicious accomplishments over the years. "They are absolutely terrible for self-sabotage. That would explain things like why she ran off with Myles. She trusted the wrong person." Babette explained, watching the jester scowl at the sound of the man's name.

"If she opened up to you, then it couldn't be a bad thing. She's fragile, Cicero. You have to take it at her pace, or not at all, I'm afraid. She said she loves you, dear. Hold on to that. She needs you more than ever, as a Keeper and a friend. She's getting ready to face an army - - we all are, but she's our leader. She'll be the first thrown into this and the last to get out of it. It's her obligation as Listener, and it's a heavy burden to carry. Be there for her, okay?"

Cicero paused a moment, taking it all in. He finally spoke, grinning wickedly at Babette. "Hmmm...The little girl is wiser than she looks..."

"You really are foolish, you know that? Just be glad that pretty young thing likes a crazed maniac like you. How's that for some wisdom?" Babette teased, smiling slyly.

Cicero cackled, slapping the table, "Don't tell Cicero it took the Un-child three-hundred YEARS to gain such petty wisdom! Why even a FOOL could see that Cicero is lucky! Or is the Un-child growing slow and senile in her old age?! HAHA!"

"Ugh...Shut it, Cicero..." Babette rolled her dark eyes. "You're also lucky I don't spike your Ale with something...unpleasant." She retorted, grinning, as the jester promptly shut his trap, knowing she could easily give him a terrible intestinal issue that he certainly didn't want. "That's better." Babette feigned a sweet smile, watching Cicero snort with a frustrated scowl on his features. Ah, it was quite fun to have the last laugh, Babette mused.

Ava clammered about her bedroom, placing her belongings in various drawers and dressers to try and take her mind off the encompassing fear she'd been feeling since the mention of the Dragonborn. She quickly folded a couple of nice dresses and threw them in a drawer, then scurried to pull a few potions out from her satchel and place them on a nearby shelf. If she kept working at this pace, she'd surely run out of busy work to distract herself with. Try as she might, Ava couldn't slow herself down either. To slow her body meant for more time in between her actions to allow those awful fears to creep back into her psyche.

She whirred about her room, working at a fast pace until she'd reached the empty bottom of her last knapsack. She looked at the bare innards of her tanned leather bag with a look of disapproval. She scanned about the room, noticing old cobwebs hanging from the corners and stone ceiling. That was it! She'd just find things to do until she tired herself out.

She grabbed a lonely old broom propped up in the hallway and began to sweep away, knocking the dusty remains to the floor. She could feel a strange hint of fear with every movement. What was happening? She thought back to Babette's remark, and certainly agreed with the tiny child of the night's observations. She'd faced threats time and again - - all of them deadly and traumatic. It wasn't to say that she didn't feel horrified at times, but nothing had ever made her feel like this.

Ever since Violet told her that awful news, she'd felt a strange dread creep over her. It felt unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. If it was possible, she'd swear this fear was a living, sentient being, slowly entering her blood stream and taking over her very body. It was like a plague, a disease, and a sick, bitter illness. It ran black over her eyes and sick in her mouth.

She stood holding the broom, her body now trembling. Why in the Void was this happening now? Ava took in a deep breath, while raising the broom and knocking away another pesky web as it dangled freely from the ceiling.

You must kill him.

Ava froze, dropping the broom and hearing its wooden handle clack against the stone floor. What in Sithis' name was happening? She wasn't sure if she heard the voice or merely thought it. Her mouth became dry and her palms grew moist. Ava shook her head rapidly, as if shaking away the horrible sensation. "No...It was nothing..." She whispered, attempting to calm herself. Nothing. Just stay busy.

She scanned the ceiling again, noting that all the dusty webs had been taken care of. She looked down at the dirty floor, deciding that would be her next project. She took a deep breath and picked the old broom up once more.

Kill him. Such is your fate.

"W-what's going on?" Ava whimpered, barely above a whisper. This wasn't the normal voice she'd heard, if it could be called a voice at all. Perhaps it was a thought. It certainly didn't sound like the Night Mother. It was different, but something about it felt vaguely familiar. Maybe she was going even more insane than before. A sharp pang of fear rose in her abdomen and burned up her chest. Ava's stomach churned wildly, causing her to gag. The terror climbed up her body, engulfing her very being.

Soon you will understand. This must be done.

A flash of memory blurred Ava's vision, causing her to stumble back against the wall. With a thud, Ava hit against the cold, unforgiving stone wall, holding herself up against it with her trembling hands.

It was a vision of Cyrodiil. Ava stood by the pond skipping rocks with her father. The flashback was followed by Cicero stomping and raving by his wagon on that grey, rainy day. Another flash entered her vision. Aventus Aretino's crying silouhette kneeling beside his Black Sacrament came to mind. Next was a memory of Astrid and the shack with those three hostages. Then the Emperor's death blazed before Ava's eyes. Myles' wicked came soon after, looming into her vision. Cicero's bloody hand trailing across her face was the next thing to come. The whole time the world was silent, dark, and spinning at a dizzying pace.

"Oh...h-help..." Ava gasped, feeling overcome with a delirious sickness. The final vision was a space completely devoid and the darkest she'd ever seen. Brilliantly gleaming red eyes glared into her being, as deep blue, icy skin touched her face. Long, midnight black tendrils framed a beautiful, brilliant dunmer face. A malevolent, but enticing smile welcomed her with shining, white jagged teeth.

Your vessel is perfect for me. You are mine.

Ava saw the Night Mother standing tall before her in the darkest realm possible. The Matron never so much as moved her lips, yet it was as if Ava could hear her in her very thoughts. Why not her voice? Was this even her voice, or was Ava simply thinking these things? The lines were blurring and she couldn't quite tell who was doing what anymore.

"I-I don't u-understand..." Ava tried to speak, but only moved her lips, mouthing the words. Her throat felt as if someone's hand had it strangled shut.

Soon you will.

The frightening mer traced her cold hand down to Ava's shoulder, causing her to quake with both fear and sickness. She drew another icy blue hand to her lips.

Sssshhhhh...

A fleeting memory of Ava doing the same gesture came to mind. It was the night she met eyes with the golden-haired girl in the orphanage after murdering Grelod the Kind. Somehow she could still taste the old woman's blood on her finger. Images of previous murders flickered through her mind like a whirling storm. In an instant, she felt the Night Mothers elegant, yet deadly fingers grip both her shoulders.

It will only hurt but a moment.

Ava's face twisted in confusion. Suddenly, the Matron pulled Ava into her own body, pressing so hard that Ava couldn't breathe. The embrace of her Night Mother's lean, powerful arms was like being wrapped in a deadly coil of spikes and fire.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Ava screamed in agony, feeling her flesh burn as the Mother's icy skin now turned to a molten lava so hot that the two seemed to be melting into each other. Floods of tears trailed down her cheeks, burning like acid. Suddenly, the blackness of nothing turned to a burning white hot flash, engulfing everything in creation and spilling inside Ava's very core.

Ava collapsed, gagging and purging onto the stone floor. Her body was covered in a thick, hot sweat as she gasped desperately for air. She lay trembling and hot with fever. She made a feeble attempt to pull herself up from the writhing heap she'd fallen in, but she could only let out a feeble yelp as the darkness closed in on her.

It is done.

Nazir stepped onto the first piece of ground that wasn't covered in snow since he'd last been in Skyrim. "Thank Sithis we're out of that miserable freezing wasteland! We shouldn't be too far from Falkreath now. I'd say it'll be another day of travel at best." He stood observing the now-wooded terrain and feeling comfortably relieved that he was close to home.

"It's about time! I'm tired of all this wretched walking! The first thing I'm going to do when I get back is run to the nearest tavern I can find! Don't expect to see me for a while..." Lielle grumbled, rubbing her back as if she were in pain.

"And why does that not surprise me?" Nazir sighed. That blasted mage was impossible! Out of all the important things that had occured on this journey, she was more worried about getting hammer-faced at a tavern than anything else.

"My, my...I haven't seen the likes of Skyrim in ages. It has been far too long, I'm afraid. I shall be more than happy to see my dark siblings in Falkreath." The tall Altmer purred, his voice soft and smooth.

"Believe me, there are plenty of us for you to meet. Let's just hope we have enough room to stick you somewhere besides the floor." Nazir remarked, thinking of the already overcrowded Sanctuary.

"Hey, what is that?" Lielle gasped, tensing up at the sound of both rustling and low growling in the forest.

Nazir examined his surroundings, noting the increasing volume of the low growls. "Sounds like it's up ahead." He stated, unsheathing his scimitar and crouching as he moved ahead of the other two.

He crept forward, watching about himself until he heard a sudden swift movement from the dense undergrowth. A large pack of wolves darted out from ahead. A large, black alpha-male lunged at the Redguard, who quickly made short work of it by slicing it's throat, severing an artery as the large animal collapsed.

Nazir swung around to see Lielle issue a powerful electric blast, instantly killing three of the ravenous beasts at once. A smaller wolf came out from behind Nazir, instantly alerting his keen senses. He whipped about, hacking the hostile animal's head clean off it's shoulders.

"Is that all of them?" Lielle asked, casually poking a charred wolf with her boot.

"Yeah, I think so." Nazir scanned the forest a final time, shaking fresh wolf blood from the blade of his scimitar. "Where's Temani?" The Redguard had just noticed that one-third of his party had suddenly vanished into thin air.

Lielle shrugged, appearing disinterested. "Beats me."

"Well he'd better damn well return! I didn't break my neck to find him, just for him to leave on a whim." Nazir huffed, walking and looking about for signs of the tall elf. "Temani?!" Nazir called out, growing frustrated at the Altmer's disappearance.

Nazir waited, arms folded and foot tapping impatiently. "TEMANI!" He yelled, feeling his blood begin to run hot. He had no time for tricks. If this elf was planning on double-crossing him in some way, he would pay with a trip to the Void itself.

Suddenly a nearby thicket rustled, as the High Elf emerged from the dense foliage. "I'm here, brother..." He answered, his voice sounding a bit shaken.

"What in Sithis' name were you doing?!" Nazir growled, feeling annoyed that the Altmer decided to vanish.

"My aplologies, sir..." Temani said, straightening his shrouded robes as he picked various twigs and leaves from the fabric. "I...took off after one of the wolves. I hunted it down and killed it. I didn't mean to appear as if I'd left you."

Nazir furrowed his brow, looking the High Elf up and down. "Next time, try to stay close enough so I don't think you're running away." Nazir felt sore and exhausted from the long journey and in dire need of rest. The last thing he needed was to have a traitor in their midst who he'd have to chase down and slaughter before he ever set foot in the Sanctuary.

Lielle trudged up behind the other two assassins as they stood before the entrance of the Sanctuary in Falkreath. Her legs felt like two heavy iron appendages, as she waited tiredly, listening to Nazir answer the ominous Black Door. The sound of grating stone alerted her to enter, watching the tired Redguard walk in first.

"You first, m'lady..." Temani stepped aside, gesturing politely for her to step in ahead of him.

"Well, aren't you the gentleman?" Lielle teased, grinning. "Hey, Nazir! Why don't you ever do that?" She smirked, seeing the blatant irritation on the Redguard's face as he turned to face her.

"Because you're no lady. Besides, I'm not exactly the polite type." He grumbled, causing her to snort with amusement.

She followed Nazir down the winding steps and into the large central room, as she caught sight of Vottur appearing from a nearby passage. It would only be a matter of time before that vile Listener of theirs poked her head out, too. Lielle smirked, placing a hand on her hip and waiting to see Ava's face again.

"I see you've returned." Vottur's deep, grave voice echoed throughout the cavern. He seemed to have caught sight of their new brother, slightly bowing his head to the Altmer. Vottur was as serious and formal as always - - way too formal for Lielle's liking. Sure he was tall, muscular, and quite handsome, but he was also another one of Ava's boot-lickers. Apparently, the Nord was up the Listener's ass almost as much as that buffoon Cicero was. It was such a pity, too. Vottur would have had far more fun with Lielle. She didn't dare try anything on him, however. It was one thing to be turned down by a madman, for she could simply chalk it up to his lunacy. It would be a whole other story to be rejected by someone like Vottur. Lielle didn't think her ego could take another blow, so she'd left it well enough alone. Besides, she knew someone better.

"You must be Temani. I'm Vottur. Welcome to our Sanctuary, brother." Vottur welcomed the High Elf.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine..." The well-mannered Altmer bowed in return. "This is quite a dark, lovely place you have here. It's a definite change from the ruins I've been dwelling in." Temani cooed, happily admiring his surroundings.

"Where's Ava?" Nazir looked about, brow furrowed and hands on his hips.

"She's no longer here. She had to leave the area. She's back in Dawnstar." Vottur said solemnly.

Lielle formed a broad grin in response to the large Nord's words. Good riddance. She felt relieved that she wouldn't have to look at that pathetic girl's face.

"What?!" Nazir asked in surprise. "Why in the Void would she be there?"

Vottur motioned them to follow with his large, calloused hand. "Come with me. There is much I need to tell you, and there's someone I need you to meet as well."

Lielle yawned, scratching a distracting itch on her arm. "I think I'll just go for now..." She mumbled, creeping away from the situation practically unnoticed. She didn't care for listening at the moment, especially if it had anything to do with Ava. She decided she'd keep her word from earlier and head out to the tavern for the night. She could certainly use it.

...

Lielle's eyes caught sight of the Dead Man's Drink, as a toothy grin spread over her face. Finally. That would be the last time she decided to travel to Cyrodiil in the freezing cold. Her home was here, in the milder regions of Skyrim where a welcoming tavern waited nearby and she wasn't up to her nether regions in snow and ice. She breathed a happy sigh of relief as she stood indulging in the welcoming view of her favorite place to find trouble.

"Look who it is..." Lielle instantly recognized the rough, gravely voice behind her. She turned to see Haldor standing, arms folded, looking exactly the same as the last time they had encountered one another. "I see you're back, Breton."

"Hello, Nord." Lielle grinned mischeviously.

"I have a name, Breton. You're not going in there to start trouble again, are you?" A smirk spread across his rugged face.

"Maybe..." Lielle stepped toward the large Nord, placing a small hand on his muscular arm. "Depends. Are you gonna be there?" She raised an eyebrow.

"What's it to you?" He smirked.

"Oh, now don't pretend you don't care, Nord. You certainly seemed interested when you were having a romp with me last time, if I'm not mistaken." She teased him, noting his sly grin as she mentioned their little fling. It was rather fun. It was perhaps the best time she'd ever had with a man - - in the sheets or otherwise. Usually she'd seduce men and leave them as soon as she was done with them. Most were usually predictable and boring, and that's why she would leave. This fellow seemed different to her, however. He was just as reckless and thrill-seeking as she was. He was a challenge, and she'd taken quite a liking to him in just a short matter of time. She didn't let Haldor know that, however. She didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

...

"Alright Breton, you got me in here...Now where have you been?" Haldor asked, as a tavern girl placed two Ales on the table.

"Somewhere cold." Lielle answered, irritably reminded of her miserable journey to Bruma.

Haldor scowled. "Well, that doesn't tell me anything. All of this gods-forsaken land is cold."

"Let's just say it was far worse than it is here and leave it at that, Nord." Lielle barked, tapping her fingers on the table in annoyance.

"Haha. Now don't pretend I don't know a thing about you, Breton. You were out killing someone weren't you?" Haldor said, leaning in and staring right into Lielle's emerald eyes.

Lielle's eyes grew wide as a tingle crawled it's way up her spine. She should have been afraid that he somehow knew about her, but instead she felt strangely intrigued. "How did you know that?" Her wide eyes narrowed as she leaned in.

Haldor's brow furrowed. "You don't remember? Don't tell me you were that drunk."

Lielle grew quiet, trying her best to remember their many conversations that night, but came up short. Perhaps she'd been more intoxicated than she realized. "Well..." She mumbled.

The rugged Nord shook his head. "I guess you were, then. You told me what you were, and I told you about myself. Not that I need introducing, but I guess you're proof that some people really do live under rocks. "

"Thanks." Lielle shot him a sharp look, feeling irritated by his sarcasm. "So you do know."

"I didn't make it up, Breton. I know you are part of the Dark Brotherhood, if that's what you mean." Haldor replied bluntly.

"I...told you that?" Lielle asked, feeling like she should be full of regret, even though she wasn't. Why wasn't she? She apparently become too drunk for her own good and spilled her guts to this man that she knew nearly nothing about. She should be mentally disciplining herself for her foul-up, but she wasn't. Instead, she felt quite the opposite. She felt a rush of excitement well up in her chest. Not a drop of remorse dwelled within her.

"I bet you don't remember a thing, do you?" He asked accusingly. "Do you even know who I am?" He leaned back in his chair, folding his large arms.

"Of course I know. You're the ex-soldier. Your name's Haldor. See? I do listen." Lielle barked defiantly.

"Heh, yeah. Maybe you listen before you're sloshed, but not after. I told you something else, Breton." He smirked, pointing to the large scar on his arm.

Lielle's face contorted in confusion. "Fine, you got me." She blew, tired of scrounging around her own mind for an answer.

"I could withold the information from you, seeing as though you're my sworn enemy...But I like you, so I'll tell you. Of course, if you go blabbering to your little friends about me, you'll be sorry." He stated, his voice falling low and cold.

"Enemy? What in the Void are you talking about?" Lielle huffed.

"I'm Haldor the Lawless - - the Dragonborn. This scar was from the World-Eater himself." He grinned, apparently attempting to show off his prowess in battle.

"Well, that's pretty impressive, Nord. Why would that make you my enemy, though? I don't fly and I damn sure don't have scales. What's the deal?" She interrogated, feeling both drawn in and guarded against this supposedly powerful man.

"Tell you what - - I'll pay for the room tonight." He said suggestively, grabbing her by the wrist and leading her behind him. Lielle couldn't help but follow a man like him, supposed enemy or not. His powerful presence couldn't be ignored. He paid the barkeep for the room and led her inside, locking the door.

"Now will you tell me?!" Lielle screeched, both eager and incredibly anxious to know.

"I'm an ally to the Legion and Penitus Oculatus. I'm helping them get to your little den of killers." He chuckled arrogantly, seating himself on the bed.

"Then why in Sithis' name have you not shouted me to Oblivion? Am I some sort of pawn for you? Do you plan on using me to get to them?" Lielle inquired, curious about his motives.

"If I wanted to just use you, I would have abducted you while you were drunk and held you hostage where your little minions wouldn't find you. Consider this more of a partnership." He said, grinning at her.

"Why?!" Lielle snapped, standing with her hands firmly on her hips. "I don't know what in the Void you would get out of it!"

"You really are clueless, aren't you?" He growled irritably. "Look, it's just..."

"What?!" Lielle demanded an answer. She felt herself growing tired of his round-a-bout answering.

"Give me a minute, Breton!" He growled. His stern face grew a bit softer, as he looked into her eyes. "Look...I've been everywhere a man can go. You're the first person I've met that I can somehow relate to. I know you were drunk, but so was I. Well, I'm a Nord, so I wasn't nearly as drunk off my ass as you, Breton." He grinned slyly at Lielle, making her do the same in return. "It's just...Gods, I'm not good with these things..." He stammered, scratching his head uncomfortably. "We're similar, you and I."

"...Similar?" Lielle pressured him to answer further. She liked to see him squirm.

"I'm interested in you, damn it!" He grumbled.

"You say it like it's a bad thing, Nord." She smirked. Apparently, she wasn't the only one intrigued by the situation between them. She had to admit, she was happy to hear that he'd taken an interest in her - - enough to not abduct or murder her anyway.

"Well, it's not the most convenient thing. Look, if you just stick with me you might just get out of this alive. Maro's after your Listener, mostly. If I have her head on a stick, he might just back off. Hell, I don't care either way myself. I'm in this to have Ulfric and his cronies skinned alive. I don't give a rat's ass about the Dark Brotherhood." Haldor shrugged. "Then again, they do want to wipe all of you out. If that happens, I can make sure you're spared. That is, if you stay by me and don't go running back to those cutthroats. If you do, I'll have no choice but to kill you. Understand?" He explained in a grave tone.

"I..." Lielle trailed off, feeling strangely indebted to Haldor. She even felt a bit of a mutual fondess for him - - something she almost never felt toward her encounters. She was quite interested in him, too.

"Heh. Now this is the first time I've seen you with a loss of words, big mouth." He teased. "Don't tell me you wouldn't like to see that what's-her-name cut into a thousand pieces. You told me yourself you hated the little skeever. She's my primary target. If you can help me get her, you'd be doing both of us a big favor."

Lielle felt a sudden burning sensation in her chest. She thought that perhaps if she were a better person, she'd feel horrified and disgusted with his offer. Instead she felt completely excited and thrilled. Sure, she had other dark siblings, but many of them didn't like her in the least bit, and that feeling was mutual. If anything, perhaps she could talk Haldor into sparing Nazir anyway, since he was the only person who had any faith in her at all. Besides, it wasn't like Lielle made this happen. It was destined to happen, whether she'd met the Dragonborn or not - - if he was who he said he was, anyway. There was one way to find out.

"Before I answer you, Nord, I need to ask a favor of you." Lielle raised a wary eyebrow.

...

Lielle stood by Haldor outside the city of Falkreath. She'd coaxed him into following her into the woods where the two of them most likely wouldn't be seen by prying eyes.

"Alright, Breton. This is far enough." The Nord's husky voice said abruptly as he halted in the midst of the forest.

"Okay then, Nord. Show me." She demanded, a look of distrust still hanging on her features. She was an assassin after all; she didn't fall for many things. Lielle needed to make sure Haldor was being truthful before she went pledging her devotion to him and all that mess.

"Fine. Get behind me." He commanded, motioning as she walked behind him with an arrogant half-smile on her face. This was going to be good. If he was lying, she'd surely get a good laugh out of it.

She watched as Haldor grew deathly quiet. She waited for his next move, half-wondering if he was preparing or simply stalling. Suddenly, his head tilted back as he took a deep breath.

"FUS RO DAH!" He shouted those strange, foreign words. No, it was more than mere words. His voice cracked the sky with a mighty force so loud, that it seemed to echo to the heavens. A bright, blue burst of a tidal wave soared from Haldor's throat, pushing forth everything it came into contact with. Large evergreens bowed to his mighty voice, as grass became uprooted from the very ground, and small pebbles were thrown violently forward. The world seemed to give way to his absolute power. He was no liar. Haldor was, indeed, Haldor the Lawless - - Dragonborn.

Lielle gasped as her heart pounded violently in her chest. This man - - this powerful, legendary man felt something for her. She could see from his sheer power that he could crush her with a mere whisper if he'd wanted to. Instead, he offered to spare her because he had some sort of feelings for her. Nobody ever really cared for her before, save for Nazir, but that was in more of a familial way. Here was one person that could finally see her for the alluring person that she knew herself to be, and he was the Dragonborn himself! Her mouth grew dry as her chest tightened with every heartbeat.

"Well...Believe me now?" Haldor the Lawless shot her a proud look.

Lielle found herself speechless. She could only nod, her mouth shut tightly with the thrill of his power.

"I guess that means yes." He snorted. "Now's your turn. Are you with me?"

Lielle couldn't speak. She'd never felt this way before. A warm rush flooded her insides. He was everything she ever wanted in a man. In a world full of dull, bland, weak people, here was one man who was strong, fierce, thrilling, and encompassing. To boot it all, he was right there standing before her. Instead of answering with words, she used his tactics - - by force. Lielle lunged forward, throwing her arms around him and pressing her lips into his own.

She felt his large, strong arms wrap aroung her small, curvy frame as the kiss lingered, becoming more passionate. She finally pulled away, looking into his fierce, blue eyes.

"I guess that's a yes, too..." He grinned, breathing heavily from their contact.

Lielle smiled, feeling a hot rush flood over her. "That's a yes."