A/N: I want to start this A/N with a Thank You to everyone who reviewed last time in the hopes of being the 100th reviewer – I appreciate it all, and I could make another one, so I'll let you know how, when and what. So, Shapeshifter89 was lucky number 100, so you'll be seeing her character appearing in the chapter or two after this one so please note the new character is not hers! I've had this one planned for a long time now. Then, I want to say thanks to the second guest reviewer, Azaisya – I appreciate the feedback and I'm glad you're enjoying it! I think you could be right about that bow… I need to double check. So, on with it, then! May you walk always in the shadow of Sithis, dear sisters and brothers – especially after a review, yes!

Chapter 22: Homewards

An ancient Nordic ruin appeared before me, and a stocky, dirty Breton woman with black circles under her eyes and armed to the teeth with greatswords, bows and daggers and heavy, dented steel armor sat cross-legged by a small campfire. Four Skulls Lookout. The Breton, Dabien Tailas, must die.

The scene jumped, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the sudden vertigo. When I opened them, I looked on the face of a Dunmer man. He looked about thirty by mortal standards – a little younger than Gabriella, anyway – and he slept peacefully, his harsh features smooth and happy in sleep. I suspected he must have been a noble, but he was asleep in a bedroll, hidden away in a sheepfold. He has killed, and our Dread Father wishes him to join our Family, Listener. Find him at Dragon Bridge…. I recognized the faint whisper to be the Night Mother's voice. Go!

I jolted awake, gasping; a cold sweat on my brow. A glance out the window said it was still at least three hours before dawn. I swept the last of my things together, dressed and hurried down where a bleary-eyed maid gave me a breadloaf for a coin. I don't think she realized what she was doing.

I was out the gates not much later, and the cursing of a guard to another paused me for a moment. "They're letting the lizard go today, some time after noon, and we have to let the bastard out these gates as if he's completely innocent. Turns out what he meant was he suspected the Dark Brotherhood and that he actually knows nothing of Skyrim politics. I still think he did it, somehow…."

I grinned: Veezara would be fine. He'd be a day behind me, but he'd be fine. Thank you, Night Mother; Sithis, I thought quickly, finding my horse's tack and stall easily once I reached the farm. The poor creature was lying down, dozing and complained loudly when I tried to convince him to wake up so I could tack up. It took a good deal more coaxing to get him to move, but we were finally on our way home. Home to Cicero, with one – maybe two – short pitstops: after all, a brother was being welcomed into the Family. I was beginning to wonder if we'd have another sister sometime soon….

Cicero sighed heavily. And Cicero sighed lightly, and then once more. "Cicero doesn't like this much, not anymore, no-no-no!" he complained under his breath – see, Cicero hadn't had much to do for the past week, except look after Mother and train with Festus twice before the Wonderful Wizard of Skyrim left for a contract. The conniving harlot-pretender seemed too pleased with herself – and a little jumpy, too (it made Cicero happy, really) – but it made her look for things that were wrong, and Cicero overheard her many-a-time – too often, too many times for far too long – complain about him and their Unholy Matron and dearest Alysa… what was Cicero saying?

Oh, silly Cicero – he misses that lovely, little ice-cold-dangerous assassin-Listener so very much – was saying that the harlot-pretender was complaining about the Old Ways and dear Alysa being the Listener, and undermining her authority! I had almost attacked her there and then the first time; my beloved little Nord had obeyed every whim and command of the pretender even though she far, far FAR outranked the pretender. And then that wolf is always nearby, always read to snap and poor, humble Cicero…. So he is forced to stay away from them! All the time! It gets lonely to be locked away in his chambers all the time, sweet Night Mother, even though Cicero does love and adore your company; Cicero always will love and adore your company! For as long as he lives and forever in the Void!

Cicero flops down in front of the Night Mother's coffin, legs-crossed and chin-on-elbow-on-knee. "Oh, sweet Mother, sweet Mother, Cicero just asks that you will ask Sithis if He will let this humble Keeper caper and jest in the Void – it must get awfully boring otherwise, he thinks. But I'm not dead or in the Void, so I wouldn't know. Maybe Cicero would be able to kill all the people who were killed before! All the targets… ah, Cicero would like that! He would like it very much indeed…" he trailed, staring up at the coffin.
"I'm sure it'll be very interesting once you go to the Void, dear Brother," a young voice said.

It was the un-child! Babette! She had spent a little more time with Cicero lately, and while Cicero appreciated her company, he finds her very very very disconcerting. Cicero is never really comfortable with her – he's much more comfortable with Aventus. The boy learns quickly! He's been on three contracts since Alysa left; Cicero is very proud of the training he and his brothers – and sometimes sisters, too – have put into the boy. He's much quieter now, sharper, too. Though not outside, because then it would hurt to be close to him but Cicero means on the inside he's sharper – like a very clever assassin-to-be. Cicero wonders if there will be another member soon… I hope so. I want the Family to grow! Expand! Conquer with fear and blood! For Sithis and the Night Moher! "…Cicero?"
"Sorry – Cicero wasn't here. Well, he is he just wasn't. How can Cicero be of assistance to you?"
The un-child grinned, shaking her head. "Would you like to train with me? It's been a while since I've done something fun that's not alchemical. You're also fairly bored yourself…" the un-child grinned.
"Cicero thinks he might regret this, but he'll say yes. Just, don't kill Cicero, please?"

I arrived at Dragon Bridge roughly four days later, and I checked into Four Shields Tavern. I hadn't seen the Dunmer man in my dreams yet, but I had no doubt he'd still be in the little town. It was midday, and I settled in for mildly tense wait – this was the base for Penitus Oculatus agents, after all. I kept my cloak wrapped tightly around my armor, and sat down stiffly at the bar, ordering food and drink to while away some time while I waited for the Dunmer.

The sun was beginning to set when he finally walked in. The entire cocky-noble attitude was almost visible around him, much like a magical cloak. I rolled my eyes, turning back to focus on my copy of a tatty Black Horse Courier article, the date faint in a top corner from being taken and read by patrons then discarded on cluttered, dirty tables. The Dunmer's voice was silky and self-assured as he charmed the woman behind the counter to give him a free meal. I grinned as I bent over the article, the black words melting into each other as I focused on what I hoped would be my newest brother. A sister would be nice, if there are any to be found, I thought, turning to look at the Dunmer again. His gaze met mine and he shot me a crooked and charming grin, winking as he sat down in another dark corner. My fingers itched for my blades – he was the kind I killed for fun because of glances at me like that. But he would be my brother, this time. "Lucky you," I murmured under my breath, watching and waiting until the Dunmer disappeared.

After enough debate and finally a coinpurse of thirty gold later I had the general location of where he spent his nights – he looked after the sheep on a nearby farm and was probably there. The innkeep and her assistant watched me warily as I made for my room. Midnight would be when I spoke to this Dark Elf, and hopefully he had enough common sense not to test me further.

The Dunmer been easy to find, really – once my horse had been convinced to come out of his stall quietly. My steed blew softly when I crouched, one of my daggers in hand. I had my hood over my head, my cowl pulled over my mouth and nose. The scene was exactly as the Night Mother had shown me in my dream. A broad, pleased smirk made my flash my teeth at the sleeping elf as I snuck closer, carefully positioning myself over him once I removed the most visible of his weapons from his reach. Dagger in the right, free hand at the ready…. I clamped my hand over his mouth, his eyes flew open and before he could struggle I touched my blade to his neck, pleased with the way he stiffened; the feel of his skin under my dagger. I smirked at him. "Good evening, Brother. Sithis has seen; he knows what you've done. And so he has sent me, through the Night Mother, to offer you a unique chance. Will you hear me out?"
He blinked a few times, a strange light in his eyes before he nodded slowly. I released the Dunmer, and moved to crouch between him and the only escape from this sheepfold, keeping my balance and my blade out. He propped himself up on an elbow, an incredulous look on his face, about to say something but I cut in before he could. "I want you to join our Family; a Family of like-minded people, each noticed by the Night Mother and Sithis, each with gifts and talents such as yours. What say you?"
The Dunmer man stared at me, his grin growing with each passing second. "The Dark Brotherhood?" he breathed reverently. "Yes, yes of course I will! I –"
"Then you must prove it. There is a woman – a Breton, called Dabien Tailas – not far from here, located at Four Skull Lookout. Kill her, and when you are in a place that is safe for us to meet again, I will come to you. If you choose not to kill her, then so be it. I would suggest you do." I sheathed my dagger and stood, backing away as I prepared to leave. "Wait!" he called, stopping me. I cocked my head to one side. "What should I know about this Breton woman? Any… specifics… concerning her death?"
"From what I know, she is wary, paranoid that someone will find her and kill her. She's a fighter too, so she should be a pleasurable kill."
The Dunmer nodded, his teeth flashing in the dark. "It will be done, m–"

Whatever he added was lost to the wind: I was already on my steed's back, his hooves flying across the country.

I was almost in Falkreath when I finally had another dream – the Night Mother showed me the Dunmer sleeping in a bed in the inn. I was barely a day away from the city – I could make a quick stop, bring in my prize. The thought of Astrid's face when she saw another member come in with me… it was almost better than imagining what it would be like to kill her.

I didn't actually go into the city, but left my horse at the clearing and went in on foot. A handful of coins had the stable boy tell me exactly which room the Dunmer was in, exactly how to unlatch the window silently from the outside to get in.
The door to the main room was locked from the inside of my new brother's room, and I made myself comfortable on the drawers as I waited for the cool autumn breeze to wake him up. I toyed with a dagger, ignoring his stare as I grinned – not that he would have seen it in the dark, and definitely not since I was wearing my cowl again.

"You came back," he said.
"Of course. Now you are one of the Family, my brother." I finally looked at him. He was sitting up now, straight and square as a noble had been taught since birth. "What should I know about my new Family? Are there any rules?"
I held up a hand, my fingers splayed in the air. I was really enjoying the dramatics of the evening. "Five Tenets. We have five rules by which our Family lives, Brother, and they are as follows," I breathed in, hoping I would get them right – strangely, it was as if the Night Mother started speaking through me, the words coming seconds before I spoke them. "The First Tenet: Never dishonor the Night Mother. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis." I was glad that I still wore my cowl – I was smirking under it. More like the Wrath of Cicero. "The Second Tenet: Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Third Tenet: Never disobey or refuse to carry out an order from a Dark Brotherhood superior. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. Fourth Tenet: Never steal the possessions of a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. The Final Tenet: Never kill a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. I am the Listener, and I know when these are broken. Our Family resides to the west of Falkreath. When you find the Black Door, you will be asked a question. Respond with: 'Silence, my Brother', and the Door will open, and you will come home."

I stood from my seat and slipped my blade back into its sheath on my thigh. "You may encounter some resistance from a woman called Astrid. Tell her the Listener came to you, told you to come to the Sanctuary."
I was almost out the window when he spoke again. "My name is Uvelaes Nilera, Listener."
I glanced at him from my perch on the sill, and took off – I only got back to the Sanctuary at dawn, making sure I wasn't followed or seen, and collapsed against the inside of the Door with my pack at my feet, my eyes closed.

I was home again.

Cicero heard it! He was sure! Or, was he sure…? No! No, Cicero was very sure! She was BACK! "Humble Cicero shall return, Aventus!"
The boy was staring after Cicero all confused – it was funny, really – and Cicero bolted for the Black Door. When he finally got closer, he tip-top-toed up the last bit to see dearest Alysa leaning against the Door, eyes closed and grinning, pack on the floor at her feet. Cicero clasped his hands behind his back, stepped up the stairs to the Most Honorable Listener. Her smile softened. "Hello, Cicero."
Cicero almost squealed, trying so hard not to bounce! To giggle and laugh! To hug her and squeeze her and–
And Cicero paused for a moment. And kiss her…. Cicero reached out and cradled her face. Her cold, pretty blue-grey eyes opened. Cicero leaned closer.

"Alysa?"

Cicero sighed, grumbled-mumbled to himself, "Harlot, pretender, offender!"
Alysa giggled; Cicero thought he saw a blush. "It'll get worse in a bit, I think," she flashed a smile at me, slipping out of mearms and pulled me and her pack around with her. "I'll see what she wants and then I'll tell you all about the wedding – I think I made quite the impression!" she sniggered, and Cicero cackled with her.
Oh, an impression?! What did she do?! "Cicero won't be patient but he'll wait! He wants to know every. Single. Detail."

"If you're back, Alysa, come to me. We need to talk!" the pretender called again.

"Every one. I promise," she hurried down the stairs to the pretender, not bothering to reply to that harlot.
"Such a Listener! Such and honorable and glorious Listener!" Cicero sang, and skipped down the stairs and down the stairs back to Aventus. They had been training – pickpocketing, of course; the best time to train for it was so early in the morning – and Cicero meant to finish it. "Continue, brother!"

"Astrid," I greeted, my teeth clenched just slightly, adjusting my pack to a more comfortable position. I wasn't entirely sure what Cicero had wanted to do, but I could have sworn he was going to kiss me. And she had interrupted.
"Alysa," Astrid said cheerfully, her voice far too sugary. "So you're back. I hear that a bloody handprint was found on a balcony when Vici was murdered…. And in the middle of giving a speech, too."
I looked at her smugly with half-closed eyes. "Whispers are going around that the Dark Brotherhood isn't as weakened as previously thought. Veezara should be back in another day or two – we met along the road." I couldn't afford to tell her he had helped me - I had a feeling he had been out on his own mission when he ended up in Solitude.

I focused on Astrid again, and she nodded, her eyes shining – I wasn't entirely sure what from, though. I saw too many mixed emotions there to pick out any single one. "With Vici's murder, you've started us down a path the Dark Brotherhood hasn't traveled in centuries: the assassination of an Emperor! And now, your reward," Astrid smiled coyly, and I was suddenly suspicious. She turned to dig in a drawer, and came back with a scroll, holding it out to me. I took it cautiously. "It's a unique spell to summon a legend of the Dark Brotherhood. His soul serves us now in death, as his body once did in life. He will fight by your side when you need him." I dipped my head – he could prove useful in days to come. "Also, your reward – one thousand gold. It was a job well done." A large bag was handed to me. I could barely suppress my surprise: it had taken me many long years to finally scrape this much together for one horse and now I was getting it for one easy kill. As a bonus. I let a half-grin escape. "It was my pleasure. Is there another part to this contract I need to take care of, or is there some time?"
"There is some time. Gabriella is working on the next part. She's been assisting me: this Emperor business, well… it does involve everyone." Her eyes darkened for a moment, then cleared. "Well, I won't keep you. I'm sure you'd like some rest."

I walked out, mildly angry at the curt dismissal. I wasn't about to complain too loudly, though – Uvelaes still had to arrive and that would be revenge enough. I passed Aventus trying desperately to pickpocket Cicero, and failing miserably. It was quite funny, really. I passed quickly to deposit my rewards in my chest and unpack my things. I bathed quickly in the adjacent chambers and pulled on a clean set of robes and took out the scroll Astrid had given me. I sat on my bed and tried to read it.

It was written in an arcane language I couldn't read, let alone understand – what I did understand was the name 'Lucien Lachance'. I sighed, rolling it up and heading to the lab where Babette and Festus might be. I found the latter over the Spellmaking Altar, muttering and grumbling to himself. I waited until he straightened before speaking. "Could you help me with this, Festus?" I asked, holding out the scroll. He frowned and grumbled some more by snatched it from me, scanning it over.
"Where did you get this?" he asked when he finally looked up again.
"It's my reward for killing Vici. How do I use it?"
"Eh. It's quite simple, really – but I suppose you can't say the words, can you?" I frowned at Festus. "Very well," he continued. "I'll try not to kill you while I teach you."
My eyes widened as I suddenly realized something. "Do I have to say that whole thing every time I want to summon this Lucien Lachance?!"
Festus simply glared at me. I clenched my jaw as he scanned the document again, and waved it at me impatiently. I was suddenly suspicious of the idea of magic again. "Go on, take it! You may be the Listener, Alysa, but you're still a fool sometimes," he chided. I rolled my eyes and took the scroll, while he moved to stand next to me so we could both read the scroll.

After some tutoring and confusing explanations – at the end of which Festus finally told me all I needed to do to summon this specter was focus on him appearing and saying his name three times – I finally managed to summon a very cloudy and shapeless version of Lucien Lachance, and naturally he didn't stay for long. My Breton brother explained something about too many summoners and not enough magicka or something arcane I didn't really need or want to understand. The whole ordeal left me feeling… strange. I didn't like it.

I found Cicero still with Aventus and finally stopped their lesson by almost successfully pickpocketing the jester. Even I had been surprised by my luck. I finally coaxed them both to join me for a late breakfast, and Nazir was at the table briefly, too – mostly to hear about my contract in Solitude. Ah, I'll be telling this story until the next one comes up, I thought happily, sipping at a fine tankard of mead. It's good to be home after a kill.