A/N: Heeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy…. So I've got good news: A New Chapter's Here! After all this time it's finally done, and I can honestly say that I think I'm getting back into the whole writing-thing again. (That's all I did todayXD) So, I present to you Chapter 31, and may Sithis always guide you Home. Read and Review, and especial thanks to everyone who has reviewed these last three chapters, welcome to all the new followers and favoriters, and long live the Dark Brotherhood! (I'm feeling particularly patriotic todayXD) Enjoy!

Chapter 31: Recipe for Disaster

Ah, we remember what we were before now – we were one and one, he and he, and then it became me and we… isn't that so? There was family, and enemy – many of the enemy. I – we – had a family. Two, actually, but only one mattered. Our father, our mother, and the many brothers and sisters across all the land. And then all these terrible things started happening to us, the Family. It started when our Enemy found our siblings, and took them, tortured them, killed them, and finally found our homes, and killed us all. It was awful…. So much blood, so many sisters and brothers dead all across the land. And then – and then our mother's ears could Listen no more, her mouth Speak no more, and her Hands could not take action, and we had to take her and look after her as she had for us…. Until they almost found us, and we had to run. We ran and ran and ran until we found our last home, the final place we could call our Sanctuary. And there we had found the last of our Family, the last of our brothers and sisters….

Nightgate Inn was the most godsforsaken, forgotten and awful place on all of Tamriel. I was entirely convinced of the matter – no other places could be such a hell. "Stay here, Shadowmere," I whispered to the horse, leaving him in the lean-to that made up a two-horse stable. Another horse was left in the stall next to the daedra horse's, and the bay snorted and rolled his eyes in fear. I headed up to the inn, and left the cold and snow behind. It was a small place – perhaps three rooms at the most – and a considerably small common room for the people to sit in. I saw one patron sitting in a corner, nursing a tall tankard of alcohol, a curved sword at his him. The man looked up, sneering as he snorted. "Hadring got another customer, eh? Beds and beer are both lousy, ya ask me!" he finished, shouting at me.
"Fultheim, really!" an old man scolded from behind the bar. He smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Welcome, Traveler! Is there anything I can get for you?"
I padded closer, pulling my cloak tighter around me. I hadn't changed out of my Dark Brotherhood armor once I had left Whiterun Hold – it was quite simply warmer than the standard leather. "A food and a bed," I said, laying my pack at my feet.
"Of course; I'm Hadring, as you've heard," he introduced himself. "This way to your room, if you will." I followed the old Nord to a long, narrow room with a surprisingly cozy-looking bed. "I'll have your food ready in a bit."

I simply nodded, dropping my pack onto the bed and drawing the curtain over the doorway once Hadring left. I changed into simple robes, tucking my armor into the bottom of my pack and shoved it under the bed. I was treated to a surprisingly good meal of mashed potatoes, a horker steak and heated, spiced mead. I ended up sitting at the counter, partaking a one-sided conversation with the innkeep. He was proud of this… inn. "Tell me more about your inn, Hadring."
The old man chuckled proudly. "This old place? Been here on Lake Yorgrim forever!" he dried a tankard, then continued. "Well, it's been in my family since my great grandda built it."
"That's quite some time – I suppose you get travelers passing through here often?" Any idiot could see that only the drunk in the corner was here often enough to keep the place standing.
"Well, no – just the odd traveler and old Fultheim over there." He dropped his voice, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "I think Fultheim is here to drink away the memories of a bad life, really. And then there's the other resident, the Orc."
"Yeah! The guy keeps mostly ta himself – seems like he has ta; kinda sad."

The drunk in the corner was beginning to irritate me.

"He keeps to himself?" I asked Hadring. He nodded, explaining the Orc's routine to me, and further saying that, with the rate Balagog was paying, the Orc could continue to do as he pleased while he called the inn home. I merely nodded through the chatter. The best chance I will have to kill him and hide the body is when he walks outside to look at the little pond, and hide his body under the pier…. I excused myself as soon as I had finished my meal, stretching out on my bed. It wasn't even dusk yet, but I didn't feel like doing anything other than lying on the bed, thinking. Or not thinking, but just… being. I couldn't help the wry smile and chuckle that escaped me as I settled on the covers: I sounded just a little like Cicero when I said that. I breathed in deeply, and let it go slowly. I had the whole afternoon tomorrow to kill the Orc.

Assuming we were alone outside.

I leapt out of bed, daggers in hand and ready for whatever was coming my way, breathing hard and scowling.

It was only once I recognized the inn surroundings that I realized I had woken from a dream. What it was, I couldn't remember – but it was one of the worst dreams I'd had in a long time if I woke up like this…. I sighed, sheathing my daedric daggers and dropped them onto the bed, the sheets mostly on the floor. I pulled the curtain away from the window, and stared up at the full Masser and Secunda moons. Blood-red and bone-white. It was cold, this close to the window, and any other person would have thrown the curtain closed, and scurried for the bed.

I opened it instead.

A cool breeze came in from over the mountains, Ironbind Barrow's path just visible from my room, and one of the Dwemer buildings much further to the left. But I wasn't the only one who was up at this late hour of the night, washed in the blue, red and white hues of night. The Orc – Balagog, Gourmet, whatever – was coming out of a trap door from the inn's cellar, wrapped tightly in a luxurious fur coat. It made my blood boil just to see him dressed in such a presumptuous, rich manner. I shut the window and let the curtain fall over it. I needed to see of this Gourmet had any writs which would provide him with access to the Emperor should he be called upon.

It was almost obscenely easy to break into the cellar, peruse through Balagog's things, take his still-sealed writ, and still avoid waking the inkeep when I helped myself to a fancy-looking bottle of wine I very almost dropped. It was chilled with ice magic, and the frost liquefied almost immediately at my touch. I considered putting the bottle back, but I'd already gotten this far – might as well take it. I placed an empty bottle in its stead, and headed back to my room. I didn't like wine, but that didn't mean that, as Listener, I couldn't lay claim to finer specimens I certainly couldn't pronounce. It might make for a wonderful poison against Astrid and Seri for all the gods-cursed things they'd done to cause all of this…. Either way, I might get a laugh out of their deaths, if not true revenge. It was a win either way – they'd be dead, and I wouldn't.

I snuck up to my room just in time to hear the Orc stomp down the stairs to his bed.

What a productive day so far.

Breakfast was leftovers warmed up from the night before (which was drastically more dangerous-looking than any poison Babette could conjure up). I felt awful from having woken up too early, and only falling asleep an hour before false dawn, and the innkeep's continued jokes about hangovers and their many cures was only feeding my desire to kill. It was almost noon when the Orc finally came up in his heavy fur coat, greeted the innkeep, bought a round of drinks for the local drunk, wished me a good day, and went outside to stand by the pond. I almost sighed in relief – it was time.

I paid for the room, packing and gathering my things with an empty promise to return. Shadowmere looked almost as excited as I felt when I tied my things to his saddle, leaving his little stable open so he could join me when he so chose. I was dressed in the Brotherhood's leathers, and pulled my cape around me, my hood over my face before I stalked up to the Orc. He was just at the end of the covered pier, so close to the pond…. I pulled up my cowl, drawing my dagger.

My breath hitched in my throat, my senses sharpened.

Everything seemed to slow down around me, waiting for me to react.

I moved.

Blood gurgled down his throat, and I struggled under the heavy weight of the Orc. "You've served your last meal, Gourmet. Pity it wasn't for the Emperor," I whispered to him. I never got to watch his eyes widen, fear and denial shining bright and glorious within them as he died. I threw him in the pond before his blood could pool at my feet. Shadowmere was waiting for me. I quickly ran to the side of the pier, dragging the waterlogged corpse under the pier, tying him down to the posts. No-one would find him for months, probably. And my boots were close to being waterlogged themselves.

I left the pond, leaping onto Shadowmere and heading back home. I needed to report in on the disappearance of the Gourmet, and we needed to plan out the Emperor's assassination. It wouldn't be long now until his arrival here, in Skyrim.

Gabriella was waiting for me at the Door again. "I never did give you payment for the previous assassination. This is token from a dear friend of mine, Olava. She lives in Whiterun, and she is quite the gifted seer. This is not an opportunity to be missed, and she is expecting you, no doubt. However, this is not your reward for killing Maro in a Hold capital. It is your bonus, and this gold," she handed me a heavy bag of gold and a smooth, square, semi-precious stone of green and deep pink. "It's tourmaline, and Olava will only accept this exact stone for the reading. If you are not passing through Whiterun on the way to the next contract, keep it someplace safe, here, in the Sanctuary. Now, Festus has been arguing with our youngest brother, and I doubt you will be able to get much out of him that isn't insulting."
And just like that, Gabriella brushed past me – probably to deal with her own contract. A traveler on the road had spoken of more and more people calling on the Dark Brotherhood to take care of certain matters. I had hoped it was true. I headed deeper into the Sanctuary, walking its halls with an almost unfamiliar familiarity. I heard the shouting match between Festus and Uvelaes, and I was glad that I had missed its opening lines.

Almost everyone was gathered in the dining room, Nazir barely able to suppress his deep laughter, Babette's furious attempts at mediating between a purple-faced, spittle-spewing Breton and a calm, snide Dunmer who kept reaching for his right shoulder as if he would find a quiver there. Aventus was meekly sitting next to Uvelaes, hoping no-one would ask his opinion on anything arcane.

"Conjuration is the most pitiful excuse for magic in an assassination! Where is the experimentation, the feel of the fire or the ice or the lightning taking another's life? Or what about turning them inside out?" Festus growled.
"Why go to such great lengths only to end up covered in the stink and grime of a Destruction kill, when it's much easier to cover your tracks as an assassin by having a daedra kill for you? In any way you want that person to be killed…. There are far more possibilities for interesting new ways to kill people using Conjuration than if one relied solely on Destruction!"
"You insolent pup!" Festus roared, his hands giving off that awful magicka glow. Uvelaes was completely unfazed by a series of increasingly descriptive insults and threats, instead turning to Aventus with an amused smirk.

"Enough." I called, coming down the stairs when Festus stopped to heave a breath. He broke into a harsh coughing fit almost immediately, and a strange flicker of something constricted my chest. Cicero would have worried, I thought before I could collect myself. Babette and Uvelaes were both up and intent on helping the old Breton calm down. The little vampire raced off to her potions cupboard and the dark elf guided the old mage to a chair.

His wracking cough barely came to a stop when Babette forced some purplish-green liquid down his throat. "Let's agree to disagree, mm?" Uvelaes grinned. Festus only scoffed and scowled, grumbling to himself. "Welcome home, Listener," Uvelaes greeted smoothly.
"It's good to be back," I sat down across the table from Nazir.

"Well, girl? Did you find the Gourmet and hide his body like a good little assassin?"
I narrowed my eyes at Festus. "Of course. He's tied under the water at Nightgate Inn. I have his writ allowing him into the Emperor's presence, and now we wait for the Emperor to appear somewhere."
"I have good news on that front," Aventus interrupted, grinning brightly. "Word from Cyrodiil is, he's headed up to Solitude on the Katariah – his personal ship – and should be here by Sun's Dawn."

Sun's Dawn It is Sun's Dusk currently – somewhere close to the end, if not already Evening Star…. "The good news is that today is the first of Evening Star, so we only have two months to wait for the Emperor to arrive in Skyrim," Aventus added.
"It is good news…" I nodded. "Where are the others?"

Nazir was the first to speak. "If you mean Astrid, Seri and Arnbjorn, they rode – and ran – out several days ago. Something about their contracts being in the same area or something like that. If you mean Veezara…" he just chuckled, apparently finding something amusing.
"What about Veezara?" I pressed.
"He's been disappearing every few weeks for a few days to Arkngthamz, a Dwemer ruin in the Markarth Hold. I suspect he's been exploring it, but he always comes back with the strangest look of ease for all of two days, then starts worrying enough to shame a mother hen!"

"That's not like Veezara," I frowned. Astrid and company didn't bother me too much – I already knew they were a threat, and bound to betray me sooner rather than later. But Veezara… he had always been the most open of us all, and for him to suddenly keep secrets was far beyond out of place. It must have been something very important for him if he was this tight-lipped about it. "Has anyone followed him to Arking-whatever?" I asked.
Babette nodded. "I did, once. He circled back to the Sanctuary and went again just a day later. When I went to Arkngthamz after our Shadowscale, the place was crawling with bandits and Dwemer contraptions. He must either be getting information from them or is currently sifting through which of those would be likely recruits. I can think of no other reason he would spend so much time there."

I nodded. I had another suspicion that tied in with the conversation we'd had the day before Vici's assassination:

My lips turned upwards darkly for a moment. "I appreciate it. But what if you get caught or killed? It's not as if we have so many dispensable siblings; and besides – you're the last Shadowscale. Someone has to teach the next Argonian who turns out to be like you."
Veezara grinned slyly. "Let's just say I'm not as alone as I thought I was."

Let's just say I'm not as alone as I thought I was….

Not as alone as he thought he was?

I had Babette stay up and keep an eye on the Door during the night, and to let me know as soon as Astrid, Seri and Arnbjorn had returned. I had a bad feeling about their group expedition. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I didn't like the feeling one bit. I doubted Veezara was up to anything untoward, but I'd have to pull him aside as soon as he came back from Arkgnath-whatever. The Dwemer ruin. There was something strange about that setup as well…. Crawling with bandits and Dwemer contraptions. It was too much information to deal with in between all the other things that were going wrong in my life – the only thing that was actually working out, was the plan to assassinate the Emperor, and even that could go wrong with the turn of a knife. I'd think it all through in the morning, and figure out at least half a plan to make sure things went a little more smoothly – like they were supposed to….