Author's Note: I can't believe it! This is my last post for Darkest Spaces, and my final two chapters. I'm so thankful for all you readers out there. You guys make my day. I really hope you have enjoyed this fic, and that it has made you happy in some way. I hope you like it. Well, without further ado...Here it is - the grand finale!
Chapter 42: Fearless
Babette watched as a devious grin spread across Nazir's face while he took in Vottur's plans. "This thing is really happening, isn't it?" Nazir asked eagerly. Vottur nodded, a satisfied look forming on his face as well. "Well then, we best get to it!" Nazir exclaimed, bounding off to rally the Brotherhood.
"I have to say Vottur, you seem to be filling into your position quite nicely. The circumstances responsible for your leadership are rather unfortunate, but I believe you'll do quite well." Babette complimented the large Nord, pretending nothing was going on in her mind other than the current affairs at hand. She couldn't help but keep thinking about the jester all cooped up in that torture chamber. Perhaps there was a reason for these circumstances. It wasn't everyday that two bitter enemies would be restrained in the same cell together. Perhaps fate had placed them together. The jester did need to get his revenge on the nasty wench, after all.
"Thank you..." Vottur nodded. "You wouldn't mind staying behind to guard the prisoners and keep watch over the Sanctuary, would you?"
Perfect. Perhaps her little idea would work, after all. The Sanctuary would be completely devoid of anyone, save for three - - herself, that wench, and a certain psychotic jester with a vengeful taste for blood. Babette simply couldn't help herself. After all, the little trollop needed to face the Wrath of Sithis soon - - might as well be now. "Of course I will." Babette smiled innocently, as hordes of assassins began to exit the Sanctuary at Nazir's command. Oh, this was going to be simply divine.
...
Babette looked on as Vottur stood atop the carriage between two Stormcloak soldiers, commanding his dark family. "Remember, brothers and sisters, do not be seen! Slit every gods-forsaken Imperial throat you come across! We'll show those bastards not to dare cross the Dark Brotherhood! There is no escaping our wrath, and Maro will learn that! DOWN WITH THE LEGION!" he cried out, appearing both savage and fierce as he held his ebony warhammer high in the air. The crowd of assassins surrounding them erupted in a wave of war cries.
"DON'T STOP UNTIL THEY'VE ALL DIED TWICE!" Nazir shouted from in front of the wagon, holding his scimitar above his head, as their dark family whooped and cried out amongst each other.
Babette smiled, both amused with and proud of her dark brothers and sisters. They truly had grown and become as prosperous and powerful as Ava had said they would. Babette sighed from the very thought of her former Listener. She missed the poor girl terribly already.
The tiny Vampire watched as the rest of her dark family rode off into the night like a deathly black veil covering the land. She waited patiently until the last faint glimpse of torchlight disappeared in the dark horizon.
Answering the Black Door, she silently slipped into the Sanctuary and down the shadowy corridor that led to the torture chamber. To her surprise, she could hear Lielle's screeching voice yelling at the poor jester. The wretched thing must have chewed her gag in two.
Upon entering the dim prison, Babette looked on, with Lielle clearly antagonizing the jester with every breath. Her gag lay tattered on the floor. Indeed, the mage had chewed her way through it.
"Hahahaha...You wish you could get to me, don't you? Well, you can't, you wormy little bastard! You were nothing but her servant, anyway. She didn't love you, you miserable, boot-licking fool..." Lielle snarled, directing every ounce of her venom at Cicero.
The jester, who'd seemingly tired himself out from his previous fit, merely glared that piercing, evil glare at Lielle. He snarled his lip, foaming at the mouth from hatred. His eyes were blood-shot and strained. Clearly, Babette thought, he could use some relief. It would be the most merciful thing she could do. Of course, Babette wasn't much of a merciful creature. She simply wanted to see Lielle die in the worst way possible, and Cicero would gladly ensure that.
In a strange moment of lucidness, the jester began to speak. "You...vile worm..." he growled, his voice deep and gutteral. "Cicero's Listener wasn't like you, STRUMPET! She DID love Cicero! SHE DID! SHE DID! SHE DID! SHE DID!" he screeched, causing both Babette and the mage to wince.
"You forgot one thing, jester. She's not your Listener anymore...or anyone's for that matter...seeing as she is very DEAD..." Lielle smirked, clearly taking pleasure from his torment.
"DESPICABLE, PUTRID BITCH! CICERO SHOULD CUT YOUR TONGUE OUT FOR YOUR INSOLENCE! HE SHOULD PULL YOUR ENTRAILS OUT THROUGH THAT VILE MOUTH! YOU WILL SEE THE WRATH, YOU WILL!" the jester seethed. He couldn't have been more right.
Babette felt of the smooth metal of the key that lay hidden in her clenched fist, smiling to herself. "It's okay, Cicero. I know our little lovely has been quite a pain, but she failed to mention that her beloved - - you know, that nasty Dragonborn fellow that killed Ava - - had his eyes gouged out by our Listener and a dagger resting firmly in his throat. What do you think about that, Cicero?" Babette asked with an innocent smile as she slowly approached the Keeper, noting Lielle's glare from hearing her words.
The jester truly grinned, briefly taking on his old form once more. "He...Hehe...Hehehehe! Cicero finds it oh so FUNNY! HILARIOUS! WONDERFUL, INDEED! HAHAHAHAHA!" he began to laugh uncontrollably, as Lielle raged from across the room.
"STOP THAT, YOU DISGUSTING LUNATIC! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU BOTH, YOU GODS FORSAKEN PIECES OF SHIT!" Lielle fumed, causing even Babette to chuckle a bit.
"If you think you hate us now, then you'll certainly hate us in a moment..." Babette provoked the mage, now leaning in close to the wide-eyed, fuming jester. "Cicero, look what I have..." she whispered. Babette extended her tiny hand, displaying a small, glimmering key for Cicero to lay eyes on.
Cicero's dark eyes darted wildly to Babette. "Oh, so shiny, so gleamy...OOOOhhhh, Un-child! With just a flick of the WRIST...A teeny, tiny TWIST...Cicero could be free! ESCAPE! PURGE THE WHOLE SANCTUARY OF THE TRAITOR!" The jester lit up with twisted glee.
"Wh-what?! WHAT ARE YOU TELLING HIM, YOU LITTLE HAGRAVEN?!" Lielle began to fight her restraints, catching on to what was happening before her very eyes. "NO!"
"Cicero, do you have your dagger?" Babette, ignoring the mage's futile cries, asked Cicero in a hushed tone.
The crazed jester pouted, "No...the big, nasty Blood-Sucker and the Redguard disarmed poor Cicero..."
"Oh," Babette feigned a disappointed look. "Well, I guess you'll be needing this then, won't you?" She grinned wickedly, pulling one of his ebony daggers from her satchel. "I found it on the weapons rack in the training room. I thought it could be of use to you."
Cicero's eyes honed in on the blade, with a sinister look of satisfaction creeping over his weary features. "Oh, the little one is so very WICKED, isn't she?! Cicero thanks you, Un-child!" he stated graciously.
"Here." Babette placed the dagger in his grip, unlocking one of his cuffs and releasing his gloved hand.
"NO! DON'T YOU DARE, YOU FOOLS! NOOOOO!" Lielle hissed and spat as if she'd been lit on fire, violently trying in vain to free herself.
Babette remained silent, only looking to the rage-filled Breton with a feigned, polite smile on her face. "It was certainly nice knowing you, Lielle. Of course, it will be far more of a pleasure to get rid of you..." she finally stated, not being able to resist a final taunt. Oh, this would be quite entertaining.
Babette handed the key to her Keeper, who graciously chuckled as he took it, unlocking his other cuff and stretching his newly-freed arms above his head. "OOOhhhh, much, MUCH better..." he cooed, clearly taking his time on purpose, to further mentally torment Lielle.
"NOOOOOO! DON'T!" Babette could hear Lielle's hateful taunts turn to frantic pleas. Too bad for her. She should have thought about that before she opened that big trap of her's.
She watched as the jester stood mesmerized, eyeing his sharp blade with a wide, malicious grin. "Ah, my beloved Listener...Cicero cannot see you, touch you, or even hear you again...The TRAITOR wanted you to pay for her jealous nature, my love...OH, but SHE will be the one to pay now...Cicero will make her pay DEARLY for her SINS..." he began to growl, turning to face the panicked, struggling Breton.
"PLEASE! NO! DON'T DO IT! DON'T KILL A FELLOW SIBLING, REMEMBER?! IT'S ONE OF THE TENETS!" Lielle begged, tears now streaming wildly down her face. It was a last-ditch effort at self-preservation, but it was quite the terrible one.
"Hehehe! Foolish woman! NOT ANYMORE! HEHE! YOU broke a Tenet! You will face the WRATH!" he spat, taking his dagger and tracing it over her sweat-drenched neck, gesturing a horizontal line across her flesh. "Question is, how does Cicero want to SLICE you? Up? Down? Side-to-side, perhaps? DIAGONALLY?" he cackled, gesturing an imaginary line with each suggestion. "Tsk, tsk...Decisions, DECISIONS!"
"I hate you..." Lielle whispered, her face filled with burning hatred.
"Yes. Yes, you do! You HATE foolish Cicero! INDEED! But you simply ADORED the nasty Lizard-Slayer, hm? Didn't you? OH, YOU DID! YOU DID! OOOhhhhh! Cicero has a SPLENDID idea! BRILLIANT! MAGNIFICENT, even! Cicero heard news that the GREAT Lizard-tongue has gaping HOLES where his eyeballs used to dwell! Hehe! Cicero will make you MATCH!" he cackled, apparently quite thrilled with his new found decision. He casually tossed his dagger to the side. "Cicero needs FINGERS to poke your eyes out with, not a silly DAGGER! Hehe!" Cicero giggled, tugging gingerly at his gloves and removing them, laying them neatly to the side.
Babette watched intently, both intrigued and amused by the jester's idea. She looked on as the fool stepped up to the violently struggling mage, gently placing his hands on her cheeks, and pulling her face toward his own. Lielle grimaced, now whimpering desperately.
"Hmmm...So pretty when you're terrified, aren't you?" he asked softly, his calm, hushed tone sending a cold chill up Babette's spine.
Lielle tried turning her face away from him, only for the jester to forcefully pull her toward his gaze. "Ah, ah, ah! Cicero wants to be the LAST thing you ever see..."
And with that, the jester's fingers crawled up her cheeks like wicked, vile worms ready to bed themselves in her pretty emerald eyes. Babette winced, as she witnessed the agonizing screams that ensued, followed by sinister, hysterical bouts of laughter. She felt her heart race watching the brutal scene that played out before her. Blood and screams were plentiful, as the jester fully enjoyed himself, tormenting Lielle and delaying her inevitable demise for his own pleasure. Babette grinned deviously, walking away from the scene and into the corridor. She'd let him have his fun.
Babette propped herself against a wall in the darkness of the shadows, listening intently to every horrific wail and pitiful scream as the sound bounced from wall to wall, magnifying it intensely. Eventually, the sounds grew fainter and yet fainter, until there were no sounds at all. Only silence filled the Sanctuary - - eerie, profound, deafening silence.
...
Babette casually browsed her shelf of ingredients, waiting to see the jester enter her line of sight once more. Of course, when he did, she felt a strange sense of relief in knowing that the deed had been finished. Good riddance.
"Did you have fun, Cicero?" she asked the Keeper slyly, as he walked past her, toward the entrance of the Sanctuary.
"Need to go now..." he answered, his hollow tone puzzling Babette.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Babette frowned, noting the eerily vacant expression on the jester's face.
"Solitude...Sweet, sweet Solitude..." he muttered, caressing the hilt of the dagger on his side.
"Oh? Are you planning to slaughter some Legionnaires with the others?" Babette asked, prying for his motivations. He certainly didn't look right, even by his standards.
"Slaughter? Yes...slaughter...but Legionnares have little meaning...as do Stormcloaks, innocents...anyone..." Cicero spoke softly, his mannerisms completely lacking in the flamboyance and jubilance that usually ran rampant through his personality. Babette had to admit, it was making her quite uneasy. Something seemed very wrong about him.
She scowled, feeling the urgent need to pull him back in before he did something terrible. "Well, you are part of the Brotherhood, Keeper. You're on our side, remember? You need to kill the Imperials if you go there." she warned.
"Cicero is part of the Dark Brotherhood. Only one problem...Cicero is dead..." the jester spoke again, his voice lacking in any emotion whatsoever.
"Ugh...really?" Babette huffed, growing impatient with his bizarre behavior. "If Cicero is dead, then who just gave that mage a horrific death?"
"Hehe...Why, Cicero did. His ghost came out to play while he performed his final good deed. He's not here now..."
Babette closed her eyes, wiping her tiny hand over her face in an act of frustration. The last thing she needed right now was for that crazed lunatic to lose it to the point of no return and start slaughtering her own family in Solitude.
"Now listen, fool! You aren't making any sense - -" she opened her eyes, falling deathly silent when she found that he was no longer standing before her. "Cicero?"
The tiny Vampire heard the Black Door rumble, as she bolted for the entrance in a vain attempt to stop the much larger, quicker jester. "Cicero! No! You can't do that!"
Halting at the open entrance, she watched with a sinking feeling growing inside herself, as the jester vanished in the distance.
Violet stood overlooking the outer walls of the large, bustling city of Solitude. She studied the large crowd of townsfolk and travelers, slightly smirking to herself when she noticed the frequent intervals at which random "citizens" entered the city gates to dwell among the unknowing people. It really was a magnificent plan, if she did say so herself. Things were flowing perfectly and without a hitch.
She stepped back briefly, scanning the view of the thick, lush forests that surrounded the capital city. It really was the perfect layout for an ambush. She stifled back a chuckle, thinking of how many of the Empire's - - of her father's - - enemies lay hidden in the thick growth, waiting to pounce at any moment.
Seeing an Imperial guard patrolling her way, she leaned casually on the high wall, pretending to take in a view of the landscape.
"Lovely day in Solitude, isn't it citizen?" the man's gravelly voice inquired.
"No doubt." Violet nodded, smiling innocently.
Pretending to gaze in the distance, Violet peered from the corner of her eye, taking notice of another figure strolling in the guard's direction. The woman, clad in a fine raiment, stood nonchalantly in front of the city guard, engaging him in some form of small-talk. Violet turned her head toward the scene, lifting a brow.
The woman's hand was slowly moving to her hip, gripping something out of sight. Violet quickly realized she was an assassin. Now standing straight, Violet noticed the outer walls were filled with "townsfolk", each approaching the proximity of the nearby guards that patrolled there.
Inhaling deep and preparing for the inevitable, Violet reached into her satchel, gripping a crimson-hued piece of fabric. One by one, she witnessed the guards falling under the well-hidden blades of the Dark Brotherhood. Before long, the outer walls were free from any sign of a living Imperial soldier.
With a sudden surge of adrenaline and anxiety, Violet pulled the red cloth from her satchel, waving it high in the air. She watched with baited breath, waving the cloth wildly as screams from within the city walls fell on her ears. She turned to the crowd below, watching people scatter from the sight of guards falling lifelessly to the ground, their throats unknowingly slit by disguised assassins using the townspeople for cover.
"What in the name of Mara is happening?!" she heard an elderly man cry from below.
Violet whipped around, hearing the sound of thundering hooves in the distance. She smiled widely, seeing Vottur and Ulfric riding side-by-side on their massive steeds. They were followed by Nazir and Galmar and an enormous fleet of Stormcloak soldiers who covered the land behind them.
"The gate!" Violet gasped to herself, quickly fleeing from her position and down a spiraling flight of stone steps, to the city below. Much to her satisfaction, she didn't need to fret over the large, protective doors. They were all but beaten down by the hysterical townsfolk, who had flung them open wide with their escape.
Instantly, like a bitter gale, Vottur and Ulfric burst through the entrance. Soldiers spilled into the city, with panicked townspeople diving left and right to dodge their stormy path.
This was it. This was really it! Violet grinned, running back to her position on the outer wall, readying her bow for the next Imperial soldier she laid eyes on...
"HURRY MEN! WE ARE UNDER SEIGE! GUARD THE CASTLE!" Vottur's dark eyes moved toward the direction of the command, to see both Tullius and Maro standing atop Castle Dour. "HURRY, I SAY!" Tullius roared, holding an Imperial sword in the sky.
At Tullius' words, the Castle doors flung open, with a swarm of guards bursting forth, surrounding the castle walls. Vottur turned to Ulfric, hearing him chuckle to himself. "Brother, this is it. The Empire's reinforcements are weak and crippled. I shall see to it that they get a quick death." Vottur nodded in response, watching Ulfric raise his large sword above his head. "MY BROTHERS! THIS VERY DAY WE SHALL OVERTHROW THE LEGION! NOW GO! FIGHT FOR OUR LAND! TAKE BACK WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY OURS! TALOS GUIDE YOU!" Ulfric's powerful voice cried out, as his men stormed from behind he and Vottur, engulfing the outer walls of the castle. The screams of Imperial soldiers rang through the air, piercing Vottur's ears and making his blood run hot with the thrill of battle.
Ulfric turned to Vottur, grinning widely. "Your lady friend tells me you desire to spill Maro's blood. Do what you must, brother. Talos guide you..." he aknowledged Vottur's one true purpose in the battle before him, before riding to fight alongside his men.
An Imperial soldier dashed toward Vottur, as he scanned about, searching for the most feasible route to get to Maro. He growled, his inner demons making their way to the surface as he longed for the taste of Maro's blood on his tongue. Mina would be avenged, even if he had to die in the process! He lunged from atop Shadowmere, diving down on the doomed guard, ebony warhammer gripped firmly in his large hand. He kicked the man on his way down, his heavily armored boots knocking the man to the ground. He then brought his massive weapon down on the man's chest, killing him from the impact of the forceful blow.
"MOVE ASIDE, MY BROTHERS!" Ulfric commanded from up ahead, as Vottur watched his men clear a path to the castle entrance. "FUS RO DAH!" Ulfric shouted, blowing the heavy iron doors apart, his men seizing the moment and flooding through the entrance, and leaving a trail of dead Imperials in their wake. So it was true. Ulfric had learned the way of the voice. Vottur grinned with satisfaction, running toward the entrance and leaving Shadowmere to mercilessly trample a terrified Imperial soldier to death.
"I'll take this end." Nazir announced, turning to Galmar from atop his horse. He then dismounted, standing among his fellow brothers and sisters at the back wall of the castle. They had all done away with their previous coverings, now donning shrouded robes and armor. Just the sight of his deadly family in action had caused an overwhelming sense of pride to befall Nazir. Here he was, helping to lead his dark family to greatness! The sight of such bloodshed and death left him hungry and yearning for more.
"How in Nirn are you gonna get anywhere from here? The remaining soldiers have retreated to higher levels. There's no entrance back here!" Galmar gave a baffled expression from atop his horse, amidst war cries and carnage emitting from his men.
"We'll scale it, of course! Assassins don't just enter the Brotherhood and have dainty little tea parties. We learn to kill. That means by any means necessary." Nazir remarked, noting a broad grin forming on Galmar's war-hardened features.
"I see! Bloody brilliant! I'll keep my men guarding this end. If you're as hungry for the Legion's death as I, then who am I to keep them waiting? Wouldn't want to be rude, now would we?! Haha!" Galmar cheered, riling his men.
"Damn right, we wouldn't!" Nazir agreed, signaling his fellow assassins to ascend along with him.
"Don't stop until you have their heads on the end of your swords!" Galmar yelled, as Nazir began to climb the old, stone walls. He grinned to himself as Galmar's words fell on his ears. This would be good.
Vottur had made his way through the warring crowd, now laying foot inside the entrance doors. Suddenly, he heard a familiar scream, followed by the cries of multiple soldiers. Something didn't sound right. Feeling completely caught off-guard, Vottur whipped about, with Stormcloaks blazing past him to enter the Castle.
His dark eyes widened, as a looming sense of dread began to course through his cold veins, giving him a deathly, sickening feeling. It was the jester. Not only was it the sight of the dangerous man that sent a shiver clear into his soul, but the fact that he was in the act of killing anyone and anything he came across.
"No..." Vottur gasped, seeing innocent, fleeing townspeople fall left and right under the lunatic's twirling blades. Suddenly, the body of a lifeless Stormcloak soldier fell along with them. "NO!" Vottur screamed, catching the jester's attention as Cicero's wild eyes met with his own.
Vottur caught a glimpse of a slow, unnerving grin forming on the twisted man's gaunt features, chilling him to the bone. Suddenly, an Imperial guard jumped in front of Vottur's view, slicing his chest with the tip of his blade, and causing him to cry out in agony. "AAAAHHHHHGGGG!" Vottur became enraged, swinging wildly at the Imperial soldier, as glimpses of the jester moving closer crossed his vision.
Violet smiled from atop the walls, watching another lifeless Imperial soldier fall under the tip of her sharp arrow. She ran a few feet down, drawing her bow and letting another arrow fly, instantly killing another. She hadn't practiced all those years for nothing. It was too bad her father doted over her younger brother Gaius, for she was just as skilled - - if not more - - in the art of combat. Of course, Maro would never come to appreciate her talents from that type of relationship. He'd surely understand them much more by witnessing a demonstration of her abilities. He would be the best example to get the point across. Violet was sure of it.
Suddenly, a burst of activity from below grabbed Violet's attention. Her deep brown eyes widened at the sight of the jester, ripping through the crowd and killing whoever crossed his path. Unfortunately, he'd been killing her allies as well. Her heart dropped and her stomach churned, realizing this former ally had turned rogue. She bit her lip, contemplating what to do.
Violet gasped, as she realized the jester was making his way to Vottur, of all people. He was currently distracted, with his back to Cicero, in an ongoing battle with an Imperial soldier. Her heart raced as she watched the madman creep in behind him, blade drawn, with a heinous grin on his lips. "No..." Voilet whispered. No, not him. Not Vottur. She couldn't let him die...
"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Vottur brought his mighty warhammer down, crushing the soldier's back while the man was on all fours on the ground, struggling to push himself up. The Imperial screamed and sputtered up copious amounts of blood, as Vottur finished him off, crushing his skull in one swift blow.
"Hehehehe..."
Vottur's dark eyes widened, suddenly reminded of the jester in the worst of ways. He heard the laughter - - that menacing, wicked cackle of the killer behind his back. He swiftly turned, meeting with Cicero, face to face.
"Don't do it, jester...Don't make me kill you..." Vottur growled, gripping his warhammer tightly and preparing himself as he backed away, attempting to talk some sense into Cicero before he did something he'd surely regret. He had no qualms about ending the man's life if he'd turned into an enemy, but the lingering memory of Ava quieted his instincts, giving the jester a chance to stop his onslaught.
Cicero remained silent, inching ever closer as Vottur backed away, attempting to stop him once more. "Cicero, stop! Ava wouldn't want this!"
"Hehehe...How would you know what she would want? You let her die..." Cicero's low, growling voice and dead eyes seemed devoid of any trace of his former self, unnerving the large Vampire. Completely distracted, Vottur accidentally stumbled over the dead body of his victim, landing on his back. His warhammer flung from his grip, just inches out of reach.
Vottur violently scrambled to grab his hidden dagger, the Blade of Woe, but it was too late. Cicero had pounced with the pent up rage and strength well past what the Nord thought was even possible for a man the jester's size.
In one swift motion Cicero drew his second blade, bringing it down to kiss Vottur's pale flesh. "NO!" Vottur screamed, bracing himself for the worst, when the jester suddenly fell limp and lifeless on top of him. Vottur gasped, violently throwing the jester's body off his own and rolling to the side, gripping his massive warhammer and jumping to his feet, bracing himself.
Cicero lay flat on his back, his eye's half-lidded and his face devoid of any emotion. He coughed violently, blood spilling from his parched, twisted lips.
Vottur stepped over to the dying jester, towering over him with his massive frame.
"Vottur!" A frantic voice called out, grabbing his attention. Violet came running, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his large waist, causing his heart to beat rapidly with her embrace.
"Forgive me for taking one of your own...I just...couldn't see you die...I-I had no choice..." she whimpered, as Vottur returned her embrace, tasting the sound of her frantic voice and feeling her soft body under his touch. Her closeness seemed to comfort him in some great, unexplainable way. He needed her now more than ever.
"No...It had to be done..." he said, feeling shaken as he kneeled, inspecting the jester further. The man was still living, barely holding on to the last traces of life within himself. "Why, Cicero? Why did you do that? Didn't you know you'd end up dead?" Vottur asked, feeling sick and strangely sympathetic for the twisted man. He was never quite fond of him, but he never wanted this to happen, either. What would Ava think? Vottur sighed, running a hand over his brow with a feeling of dread.
Cicero coughed, his lips moving and his faint voice barely audible. "Cicero is...already...dead..."
"What in the Void do you mean?! This doesn't make any sense, damn it!" Vottur lashed out, his mind and emotions completely wrecked.
"It wouldn't...make sense ...to big, dumb...Blood-sucker..." Cicero coughed violently, strangling on his own blood. He gasped deeply, guiding his weak hand to hold the fatal wound in his chest. In a strange moment of clarity, Cicero's face showed a true sense of pain and pleading. His desperate eyes locked with Vottur's, causing the Vampire's gut to wrench at the pitiful sight of him. Blood oozed from the jester's trembling lips as he spoke one last time, the humanity in his voice causing Vottur's heart to plummet. "Ava was mine...My everything...My heart...My...life...I...died...with...her..." With those final words, the jester's eyes slowly lost their life, drifting away from Vottur to death's eternal gaze into the skies.
Vottur staggered to his feet, feeling both sick and confused. He looked to his only source of comfort and consolation. "I-I don't understand..." he stammered to Violet, who's soft hand grabbed his own, squeezing it tightly.
Violet wiped her tears from her eyes, shaken by the whole situation. "I wish I had the answers you need. All I can say is that he seemed to love Ava as you did Mina...I'm just...sorry it had to be this way...Perhaps we can make one thing right. I want to get you to my father. I truly regret that Ava and her Keeper had to perish, but perhaps I can still help you. We'll make sure Mina's death is avenged. I'll go with you..."
Vottur bristled under her demands. "No, Violet! You need to stay outside the city walls. I don't want you getting killed, as well." he commanded, suddenly feeling rattled and very protective of her. He'd already lost Ava. He didn't want to lose her as well.
"You can't tell me what to do, Vottur! Besides, if I'm not mistaken, I believe you owe me one. Two, if you count what just happened. Now, are we going to infiltrate the castle, or just wait out here while someone else gets to slit my father's throat? Do it for me, Vottur. Do it for Mina..." she pleaded, her rich brown eyes glimmering with tears. He quickly averted his eyes, realizing he couldn't say no to this courageous, beautiful woman.
Vottur sighed, "Alright, alright, then. You win. C'mon, let's go." He took one final look at the lifeless jester's body, hoping that somehow these twisted events would end for the better.
Nazir pulled himself to the top of the castle, quickly landing on his feet and unsheathing his trusty scimitar. He watched as the black cloud of the Dark Brotherhood engulfed the soldiers guarding the top of the castle, easily overtaking them.
Quickly slitting a guard's throat from behind, Nazir's keen eyes locked on the sight of Tullius and Maro, engaged in a bitter debate. Tullius yelled at the Commander, his Imperial sword pointed at the man's throat.
"You've created this mess, Maro! The least you could do is meet your death like a true Imperial, and be a man! I was a fool to ever think your plans would pan out, and now I'm paying dearly for it! The Legion is paying for your greedy motives to seek revenge! Come with me, or I'll kill you myself! You are nothing but a treacherous coward in my eyes, Maro! You were never in this for our people! Judging by your actions, Ulfric himself is less of an enemy to the Legion than you! At least he is an enemy to my face, and not a wolf hiding in sheep's clothing!" he cried out, causing Maro to back away under the threat of falling to his sword. Nazir had to hand it to the man, Tullius was certainly a commited and honorable fellow. Too bad they'd have to slay him too.
"NO! I WON'T, TULLIUS!" Maro cowered, suddenly, darting away and leaving through the nearest exit. Nazir watched Tullius sigh, sheathing his sword in an act of defeat. Nazir figured he would have commanded that his own men kill Maro, but the Brotherhood had already murdered them all.
Nazir stepped through the crowd of his dark siblings, and into Tullius' line of view. "Tullius..." he nodded, aknowledging the Imperial General.
"I have to say, your Dark Brotherhood is certainly persistant, if nothing else. I can only hope that your vengeance is pertaining to Skyrim alone, and that you do not seek the blood of our new Emperor back in Cyrodiil..." he stated, holding his head high and proud with what seemed to be the last shred of dignity he held. "I was foolish to engage in Maro's pathetic plan. Had I been a wiser man, I would have known better. I guess all things must come to an end, however. This time is mine, I suppose."
"Yes, I'm afraid so." Nazir commented, folding his arms. "Nothing personal. This had way more to do with Maro than yourself, if it brings you any solace."
Tullius sighed, nodding. "Yes, I'd figured as much. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like you to call Ulfric up here. My terrible mistake has cost the lives of many. I've failed my country and my men. The least I could do is offer the Empire my honerable death..."
"Very well..." Nazir answered. "Watch him, while I get Ulfric." he commanded his underlings, leaving through the exit.
Vottur searched frantically, with Violet following closely on his heels. Most of the castle had been littered with the bodies of dead Imperials. An eerie silence began to creep into various routes and hallways as their enemies neared complete extinction. Just a matter of moments ago, Nazir had gathered Ulfric and his men, leading them to the highest level of Castle Dour, while informing the two of them that Maro had fled from the General, hiding within the confines of the castle.
Vottur found satisfaction in knowing that Maro's attempts to escape would be futile, for Ulfric had commanded that every exit be guarded by his men. Now quietly stalking the dark corridors of the prison chamber, warhammer gripped firmly in hand, Vottur's head cocked to the side as the sound of frantic, shuffling feet bounced off the shadowy stone walls.
"He's here, Vottur. I'll cover the other exit." Violet whispered in his ear, creeping down the hallway with her bow drawn in silence.
Suddenly, a brief flicker of Mina raced through the Vampire's mind, causing his body to tense with adrenaline. He couldn't wait to get his hands around that scrawny neck of Maro's and strangle the life from him!
"YOU!" He heard Maro's voice rang out from down another corridor, apparently catching sight of Violet. Vottur crept closer to the voice, readying himself as the Commander came limping into his sight, with an arrow in his calf muscle. "STUPID, FOOLISH WOMAN!" Maro yelled, with Violet closing in behind him and blocking his escape, her bow drawn again.
"I wouldn't call me foolish if I were you, father. You are quite the foolish one, really. You're calling a scorned woman with a weapon pointed at you nasty names." Violet remarked, glaring down her father. Vottur realized she could be wicked when she truly wanted to. He grinned darkly, stepping out in front of Maro.
"What's this, Violet?" Maro growled. "Oh, I see. I didn't spoil you enough or tell you how wonderful you were, and now you're going to kill me for it? Well, let me tell you something, my dear. If I would have known you'd go behind my back and conspire against me, I would have had my way a long time ago and forced your mother to throw you out for the wolves to consume! The wrong child died, daughter! It should have been you, not Gaius!" Maro hissed between clinched teeth, as Vottur and Voilet cornered him.
"Don't talk to her that way, you slimy little son of a bitch!" Vottur snarled, swinging his massive warhammer at the Commander, narrowly missing him as he dodged the attack, shutting himself in a prison cell as his only means of a protective barrier between them. The man was a snake, pure and simple. He'd killed Mina and greatly wronged Violet. If the stupid bastard thought a measly set of bars would save his life, then he was far more idiotic than he looked.
"Haha! The same could be said of you, father!" Violet laughed bitterly, aiming through the cell bars and shooting an arrow into his arm, causing him to writhe in pain. "My mother was a far better person than you'll ever be! Too bad it was her that died, instead of you! Of course, you'll be with the dead as well, when we are through with you..."
"I guess you don't remember me, do you...?" Vottur growled with rage, bashing the lock on the prison cell with his warhammer. He hit it with a thundering force, freeing the door and causing it to slowly whine open. The Nord grinned visciously, showing his fangs in the shadows and watching Maro's eyes widen with fright.
"I...I have no idea who you are..." Maro stuttered, scrambling to the corner of the cell and cowering.
"Let me refresh your memory, then. When I was a young man, you met me on the road not far from the gates of this city. Then you proceded to have my wife and I hunted down for what we were...You had her killed, and now I'll have you killed. I've waited so long for this moment..." Vottur growled, feeling the lust for blood well up in his dark heart. As if on impulse, he swiftly swung his weapon, cracking Maro's knee and watching him crumple to the ground with a high-pitched wail.
"So you don't like Vampires, do you? You really won't like this, then..." Vottur growled lowly, hovering over the man, his fangs glimmering in the dark.
"NO!" Maro whimpered, scrambling to move.
He, of course, ceased to move when he caught sight of Violet's arrow pointing him dead in the eye. "Ah, ah, ah...Now, you behave, father." she scolded, as Vottur pierced his flesh, tasting his coppery blood and loving every moment of it. Maro would rue the night he ever crossed paths with him. The feeling of the salty, metallic blood on his tastebuds sent a rush of power and animal-like domination over him. Maro's whimpers and pitiful pleas made him only bite down with more pressure, giving the man intense pain.
Vottur inhaled, drawing away from the Commander and noting the paleness of his newly-drained flesh. "Please...I'll do anything...Don't kill me...I have riches...I-I can pay you dearly if you spare me..." Maro pleaded, as Violet scoffed at his pathetic remark.
"Yes father, you are quite good at bribery. You should be, seeing how many times I've witnessed it, that is. Bribing harlots, hitmen, and politicians...All for your namesake. Well, you worthless fool, you've bribed the wrong man. Vottur cannot be bought." Violet remarked, a look of disgust on her face.
"While that's true of Maro, I believe you still have the ability to sway me. I did owe you not one, but two, after all." Vottur smiled mischeviously at her, yanking Maro up by one arm and inducing a painful scream. "I paid you once when I let you come in here with me. Now I'll return the second favor..." he said, tightly gripping the struggling Commander's wrists behind his back. "Go on."
He watched Violet's eyes grow wide with awe. "...Really?" she asked, astonished, as he quietly nodded in response.
"Very well, then." She nodded in return, getting straight to business. She then pulled the Imperial sword she'd previously aquired from its sheath, holding it to the trembling Commander's throat. She gazed up at Vottur as he witnessed both the want and bloodlust in her dark brown eyes. He smiled, drawing out a smile from her in return. He had to admit, she was quite beautiful when she had murder on her mind. Her eyes locked on Maro.
"Maro, this is for all the wrong you've done. This is for Ava, for my mother, and..." She quickly fixated her eyes on Vottur 's once more. "This is for Mina..."
Vottur watched Violet at work, carving deeper and deeper into Maro's soft flesh, seeing and smelling the crimson liquid that flowed so freely, trickling down the Commander's armor and spilling graciously onto the cold floor. He inhaled, closing his eyes and listening to the symphany of his screams filling the prison. He could almost swear Mina's spirit was there with him, embracing him and listening along. He could almost sense the soft smile on her face...
Nazir watched intently, seeing the two leader's meet face to face for the first time. "So if my ears do not betray me, you have admitted defeat under the blades of my men?" Ulfric asked, sword drawn as he slowly approached the General.
"Your ears heard correctly. As you can easily see, my men have all been slain. The Legion is no longer here, Ulfric. You've gained victory, fair and square. I've miscalculated and misjudged, spending the lives of my men at my expense. The least I can do for them is allow you to give me an honorable death, so that word of it may travel to my homeland in Cyrodiil. I can only hope that they will not see me as a weak coward, but a deeply-convicted General, who died fighting for the Legion. Skyrim has returned to her people, as fate would have it..." the General said, with a heavy heart and a defeated, but dignified expression on his face. He was certainly nothing like that cowering worm Maro, Nazir thought.
"Aye, and I will. For I am a man of my word, General Tullius. You fought well for your people, and I for mine. It is but a shame that our convictions and loyalties rest in such different places, dividing us in such ways." Ulfric remarked, Nazir figuring to gage Tullius' response.
"Perhaps, Ulfric, but my heart lies with the Legion. It always has, and it always will. I will gladly die for my cause. I guess we are much like two great forces, and both cannot survive at the same time. Only one can prevail, and that one is you, Ulfric. Now, you are an honerable man, that much I know..." Tullius stepped forward, unsheathing his blade and throwing it to the side. "So, will you do me the honor?"
"Aye, brother..." Ulfric slightly bowed his head in reverence, as a hush fell over the crowd of Stormcloaks and assassins. Nazir watched, completely intrigued by the whole situation. He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride in his dark family. Seeing the Will of Sithis play out before his own eyes, and the great alliances formed from it was surely a once in a lifetime occurrence.
He looked onward as Ulfric gave the final, merciful blow, driving his large blade through Tullius' heart. "Thank you..." Tullius' replied, his strained voice a mere whisper, as his limp body fell to the ground, heaving until the last breath fell from his lips. Ulfric turned to the crowd, "We will send his body back to his homeland, to be mourned and buried properly. I am a man of my word after all, for what does a man have, if not his word?"
Nazir felt his heart speed up, as Ulfric approached them, his blood-covered sword held high. "Now brothers and sisters of Skyrim, hold your heads high and your swords higher! Shout praises to the NINE DIVINES! FOR SKYRIM IS FREE FROM TYRANNY AT THE HANDS OF THE EMPIRE! MAY SHE SMILE UPON US THIS DAY!" he yelled triumphantly, as Galmar and the others cheered and cried to the heavens. Nazir wasn't a very emotional or affectionate man, but he could excuse the glassiness that covered his eyes. Just this once.
"THIS IS FOR YOU, MINA!" Vottur screamed to the heavens. He raced across the land with Violet sitting behind him on Shadowmere's back. The large Vampire held high the severed head of Commander Maro, feeling Violet's arms squeeze tightly around his thick waist.
"FOR SKYRIM!" Ulfric shouted from beside Vottur, riding on his enormous smoke-colored stallion, and holding his sword above his head. Galmar whooped and cried from his side, proudly lifting their banner to the sky.
For once in a very, very long time, Vottur began to feel a sense of peace in his heart. He looked behind himself into Violet's shimmering gaze. "I knew we could do it, Vottur..." she smiled warmly, a tear trailing down her cheek. He smiled in return, feeling a rush of gratitude and happiness looking into her deep, beautiful eyes. He owed her so much, he didn't even know how to begin to repay her.
Maybe it was time to start over. He'd avenged Mina, letting her life not be wasted in vain. His heart would always hold a place for her, but maybe the time had come to embrace the future. He knew the Void would claim him in death, and Mina wouldn't be there waiting for him. Maybe it was better that way. She was much to good and pure for that sort of thing. Much like Mina herself, he imagined her soul was light and breezy, travelling wherever her heart wanted to roam. Her spirit would live on forever, Vottur believed, for it had been powerful enough to bring him to his destiny. He'd never stop loving her, and he'd be eternally grateful.
He took a final glimpse at the enormous fleet of black and blue riding in unison behind him. For the first time, he truly began to look forward, never forgetting the one he owed his life to.
A final voice sounded in his mind, "VERY GOOD, MY CHILD..." He smiled to himself, as they rode out of sight.