Author's Note: All righty then! Semi-regular update schedule, 'kgo! Incidentally, this fic, if you weren't previously aware, kinda goes to dark places.

And stays there. I miss the funny bits.

You know, I'd really thought this chapter was longer than it is.

Disclaimer: It's pretty obvious, but I actually don't own the Elder Scrolls franchise. Who knew?

Nobody Important

Chapter Thirteen: Monstrosity

In which the guard isn't stupid, just outmatched.

By: N3k0

She heard the Legionnaire, and wondered what fortune had rendered her so very popular today. She was trapped inside a building that reeked like a slaughterhouse, having killed her second visitor after being deserted by the first. And now, this small inn in the middle of nowhere had the good fortune of not only being investigated by the guard, but having the investigation transpire mere hours after the killing began. Lyssi knew of places in the Imperial City itself that, were a murder to happen there, wouldn't be investigated until days, weeks, or even months had passed.

Fortune had abandoned her today.

The Legionnaire was only a man, though. She'd mesmerize him into forgetting anything had happened here, and send him on his way. It would be a simple matter, and she wouldn't even have to kill the man. Alternatively, however – she cast a spell of invisibility over her things and laid down, pretending to be truly dead.

The Legionnaire moved from room to room, shocked, horrified oaths dropping from his lips every so often. When had the cultist had time to create scenes to disgust even a hardened warrior? While she slept, of course.

He came to her room, and she had to force herself to relax, or she'd give herself up.

"W-why – why is this one whole?"

The blood she'd consumed would have restored her face –

He tripped over her bag, and she barely concealed her wince. Invisible, not incorporeal. "What's going on here?"

The Legionnaire gave another confused glance toward her things, before once again turning his attention to her "corpse." His breathing picked up, his heartbeat accelerated. She was hungry. Maybe she'd just – no.

"Monster," he breathed, and she heard him draw his sword.

What had given her away?

So hungry.

She sat up, slowly. He was shaking hard enough to rattle the heavy plate armor he wore, and fear was etched into his features. "You! You – you did this! Y-you – I – " He swallowed heavily, throat bobbing. She couldn't tear her eyes away. "You're under – you're under a-arrest. I-I'm going – I'm going to have to take y-you in."

Just a little bite ….

She stood, watching him. He was trying so hard to look away. The muscles in his neck were twitching.

"Shh." She pressed a finger to his lips, and oh, he reeked of fear, his heart pounding against his chest. She could taste it already, the sweet nectar – deft fingers gently pulled the helmet from his head. So, very, hungry. "Shh."

She sank her fangs into the soft flesh of his throat, and the blood filled her, lit up her every nerve. Her body sang. Then, horror filled her. What was she doing? Just mesmerize him and let him go, that was all she'd meant to do. The Legionnaire fell to the floor, and she looked away, disgusted with herself. He wasn't quite dead – she didn't have to kill him.

What would she do with him if she didn't?

A sad smile crossed her lips, and she knelt to tend his wound. Of course.

She'd give him an entire den of lawbreakers to kill.

There was a trick to seizing the mind of a mortal, taking their will for her own. It was more intense, and far more lasting, than a simple charm. She hadn't yet mastered this art – and she had no idea how to release them after she took them. Still, a short lifetime of servitude was better than a quick death – wasn't it?

She'd tied him to a chair, stripped him of weapons and armor. He hadn't woken up yet, but his color was improving a bit. She estimated that she had a few minutes left.

What worried her was how natural it all felt.

((Letter tiem!))

Princess –

When all this business with your dark and sinister master has blown over, why don't you come visit the Isles?

I'm sure you'd fit in fabulously.

- Sheogorath, Lord and Master of Haskills Everywhere

P.S. We might have a use for a skilled assassin. Power, riches and all that. What do you say?