Three days had gone by without an incident, Seraphina was finally starting to relax and think that maybe, despite all her fears, she really was going to get away with murder. It didn't feel right, every morning she awoke paranoid that today would be the day Lex came knocking on her door and every time she spied a guard she felt sick with guilt. It did not bother her to continuously get away with theft and even flaunt it in her would be captors' faces but murder, that was worse, that was final, that was a life gone, snuffed out like it was nothing. She had always understood why the Thieves Guild was against murder and she had agreed with it, murder was despicable unless it was in battle or an act of a much deserved revenge, people should pay for it. Naturally the thief felt more personally about it all because of her own dark past concerning the Dark Brotherhood. Now she almost felt like one of those monsters that had robbed her of a mother and a brother. She had killed just like them, so needlessly, and gotten away with it.
It was the early afternoon and she was strolling through the marketplace having just completed an easy job Armand had pressed upon her to distract her from her woes. The Redguard was not so naive to think it was only Roland bothering her but he suspected it was something to do with her connection to the Gray Fox rather than something more sinister. Against the norm, the master thief was still in town and Hieronymus Lex, a watch captain with an obsession for the thief, had gotten word. The streets had more guards parading them than usual, thieves found their sentences more severe and the beggars and locals of the Waterfront found themselves harassed on a daily basis. Seraphina had found herself bothered just once this morning but with no evidence they had soon left her alone.
The blonde Imperial paused at a market stall to eye up some shiny red apples. She felt a low growl of hunger creep through her and reached out to one, plucking it up nimbly. Feeling a tug on her sleeve she whirled around with alarm, half-expecting a guard there ready to accuse, instead she found the sunken grey eyes of one of the local beggars looking back. "I know," he told her accusingly.
"Wh...what?" she queried as she tugged her sleeve free and tried hard to be calm.
"I know," he repeated, louder this time.
"We all know." This accusation came from the left, a younger looking Breton beggar with curly, brown hair. "What you did by the waters."
"No," it came out as a protest, a denial.
"We know what you did!" the woman snapped, drawing several curious stares from passersby.
Seraphina looked about nervously, everyone was staring and listening. It was out there then, there had been witnesses, someone, somehow. She dropped the apple and turned to flee. 'Move slow,' she tried to caution herself as her heart hammered against her chest, 'come on now don't be obvious or the guards will come if they aren't already. Disappear, you're good at that.'
She felt hands grasping at her blonde hair wildly as the beggar woman started to shriek. "We know! We know!"
"We know what you did," the male repeated.
Seraphina tugged her hair free with a cry of, "let go!" The Imperial ran then forgetting all ideas of subtlety.
Lucien La Chance stepped out of the shadows of the stalls with a pleased smirk. 'Marvellous fools,' he thought with delight as he looked to the puzzled beggars, 'yelling nonsense for coin, it is amusing the things people will do for money without understanding when they are desperate.' He stepped up to the nervous apple seller and scrutinised his wares before selecting a fresh red one and offering a single bronze coin for it. The seller took the coin with a murmur of thanks and a nod.
Seraphina finally remembered her skills of secrecy when she escaped from the Market District. For the rest of the journey back to the Waterfront she melted into the crowds with ease, snatching up a cloak resting on a bench effortlessly and hurrying off with it before the owner could notice. She slipped the red cloak over her shoulders, knotted it closed at her throat and bound her hair into a loose ponytail before continuing on her way, only just avoiding the stern faced Hieronymus Lex.
Twenty minutes later found the pale faced Imperial back in her shack, finally able to let out a brief sob before she tried to compose herself. 'I have to leave,' she thought anxiously as she looked about her meagre surroundings, 'it's only a matter of time before everyone finds out; I have to go before that happens.' She thought about what to pack but nothing mattered, her possessions were of a practical nature save the shoes the Gray Fox had once stolen for her, but they could remain where they were hidden, she could not burden herself with them now.
Seraphina tugged up one of the floorboards and lifted out the strongbox concealed under it. After fiddling with the locks, she tapped it twice underneath revealing a false bottom in which she kept her coin. She tugged out every last one, gathering them up in a leather pouch that she fastened tightly closed. After that she replaced the strongbox in the ground and put the floorboard back in place before changing into her practical brown leathers and sheathing a dagger at each side. She then placed the pouch of coin securely at her breast inside her shirt and headed to her door.
She paused for a moment as she wondered where he would be. Even she did not know where the famed thief hid when he was in the city. He had no place to call his own, part of his curse, and took refuge where he could find it, sometimes with her, sometimes with Armand, and sometimes with another. Once he had even dwelled with Sam on the outskirts of the city, Seraphina privately thought he had been attempting to get to know her father for her, or perhaps trying to persuade Sam to get to know her.
She opened the door and headed to Armand's shack first. She rapped the door impatiently, glancing over her shoulder a couple of times, wary that the guards might already be on their way. The Redguard opened it with a frown and rubbed his brow wearily.
"Is he with you?" the Imperial queried bluntly.
"Just back," Armand admitted as he pushed open the door to grant her entry.
He sat within, smug about a recent heist on the guards' tower, specifically in Hieronymus Lex's quarters. He looked down at the coin and ornamental dagger he had pilfered with a measure of pride. At times he sympathised with the guard, he was after all just doing his job and in his way trying to make the city a better place, but when he had learned that Lex had called him a coward who was all talk and accredited his deeds to other thieves he had been unable to resist making a point. He considered that leaving the signature 'GF' on his desk had perhaps been a little unnecessary and a tad cheesy but it was rare that he got to enjoy the elements of his curse and he could not resist some fun now and again.
He glanced up as Seraphina entered and spied the fear in her eyes. His joy was immediately banished as he pushed his ill gotten gains to one side and stood up to greet her. "Sera, what's wrong?" He was quick to the point.
"Can we talk privately?" she queried quietly.
He nodded as Armand gave a miffed look but said nothing as they exited his shack. He had accepted for a long time now that theirs was a relationship no one was ever going to intrude upon, whatever secret they shared it was a dark and important one.
They headed back to Seraphina's shack and once within she immediately turned to the older thief and confessed what had happened in the Market District. "People know!" she hissed out in alarm. "The beggars started accusing me in front of everyone! I have to get out of here!"
"Calm down," the Gray Fox urged as he reached out a gentle hand to squeeze her left shoulder. "What exactly did they accuse you of?"
"They told me that they knew what I had done by the waters, they just kept saying it over and over again, 'we know, we know'! It was just like that writing on my wall." She broke free of him and shuddered. "I have to leave the city, I know I should face justice for my crime but I'm a coward and I can't."
"No," he argued immediately, "you're no coward Sera, just scared of this city's idea of justice and who could blame you? It was an accident, you have to understand that, he provoked you and you defended yourself."
She shook her head in protest. "No, I went too far, I could have stopped, I should have but I didn't. The guilt has been driving me mad, part of me was relieved when they said they knew, I thought, at last, the secret's over." She looked up at him with a serious stare. "Do you understand that? It's just one secret too many, I can't deal with it, not on top of all the others."
"Sera it's not your fault," he said firmly with a sympathetic stare, "and I know you feel guilty and you want to be punished but don't you see, you're already punishing yourself with your guilt and paranoia, don't wish for more on top of that. Look, I'll get you out of the city if that's what you want, we will go to Bruma for a few days until you put your mind at ease and when I'm certain that rumours about the murder have stopped you can come back."
He wondered privately how he would have judged her if he had still been a nobleman of Anvil. 'I would have condemned her,' he realised with a feeling of self-loathing, 'no questions or trial, I would have saw a thief and assumed her a murderer too. There's so much about this world I didn't understand when I was a count and even after ten years I still don't know it all but I know enough to hate it.'
"Alright," she agreed quietly with a nod. It was better than her plan to simply wander Cyrodiil until she found somewhere safe. She had only ever known the Thieves Guild since that fateful day her mother had died, without them she was directionless, the Imperial City was the only home she had known for the past ten years even if it wasn't much of one, she had friends here and a family in the thieves.
"Capital," he retorted with a small, brief smile, pleased that she was willing to see some sense. "Get your stuff ready and we will prepare to go."
"I am ready," she retorted quickly, her eagerness to leave showing in her eyes.
"Alright, well wait here while I tell Armand."
"What will you tell him?" she pried.
"That I am sending you on a mission for the Guild," he replied calmly, "perhaps I may even just do that, I am sure there are plenty of marks in Bruma."
She nodded again. "Alright." It could be a nice change she thought, Bruma was pleasant enough according to Methredhel and Seraphina had always wanted to see it.
He left swiftly, darting back to Armand's with ease. It took only ten minutes to explain things to the doyen; he was too used to the Gray Fox's irregular comings and goings to be bothered by it and to in awe of the man to ever query his decisions. He raised an eyebrow at the mention of Seraphina going on a lone mission to Bruma and knew there was something else to it but did not question it. Instead the Reguard had agreed to keep an eye on her shack and assured that she would always have a place with the thieves of the Imperial City, adding quietly to himself that this was only because she had the Gray Fox's favour. Though Armand did like the wayward blond he did not think she belonged with the thieves, yes she was skilled but she was always getting herself into trouble and letting her emotions get the better of her. He decided quietly that it might be good for her to get out of the city and his way for a while.
The Gray Fox returned to Seraphina with a small smile before murmuring, "I will have to meet you outside the city; it would be too risky to travel with you. Head to the gates and wait by Sam, I will see you there." She nodded her consent and he left.
Half an hour later found the blonde with Sam fidgeting with her hair as she awaited the thief's arrival. Sam was, as usual, only mildly curious about her presence and did not bother to query about what she was up to. When the Gray Fox finally arrived, slipping out of the trees like a ghost the Breton merely frowned before glancing from him to Seraphina.
"Greetings Sam," the thief remarked quietly as he stepped up to the pair. He had found it just as hard to believe as Seraphina that this lawbreaking Breton was her father. He had not known Lyra well but he could not fathom how she had fallen for him, though he now understood why she had refused to ever admit his identity to her father, there was no way Count Goldwine would ever have understood or accepted it, or forgiven Lyra for picking such a lowborn.
"Hello thief," Sam retorted evenly. He had only mistrust for men who kept their faces hidden and a special disliking for this particular thief ever since he had stayed in his shack once and dared to lecture him about parenting, Sam finding out that the thief had no children of his own apparently hadn't mattered much to the Gray Fox.
"Can we go now?" Sera queried as she spared Sam a scowl of disapproval.
"Yes," the thief retorted calmly as he looked to the road, it was clear for now. It would have better and smarter to travel with his mask off but Sera was frightened and he was foolish enough to let his affection for her make him keep the mask on to reassure her. If he had come without it then as far as she was concerned he would not have come at all, the Stranger was a companion, she accepted that well enough but she could not understand that he was the Gray Fox too. No one could, with the mask on he was one man and with it off he was another, a nameless nobody. That was the seduction of the mask, with it on he had an identity and he was a somebody, he was infamous, beloved, feared and even worshipped, in ways it was far superior to being a count and yet he could not reconcile himself with this despite the years that had gone by. He just wanted to be Corvus again, to have his wife and his life in Anvil back; he did not even care to be a count or to live in a castle, to just have a name and his beloved, that would be more than enough.
They moved quickly and subtly, low in the grass and close to the trees, blending in with their surroundings as best they could, applying tricks of stealth known only to thieves. They made it to the bridge without incident. Spying a stain of blood on it caused Seraphina to stop in her tracks with a shudder. There, there she had murdered a man in cold blood, there she had become a murderer, and there she had become no better than those who had killed her family.
"Come on," the Imperial thief urged as he took her right hand tightly in his own and pulled her on. They hurried through Weye and started moving near the coast of Lake Rumare, heading in a northerly direction.
"I can only go so far with you," the Gray Fox confessed as they travelled, "if people see me it will make things difficult but when I am not with you he will be."
"The Stranger," Seraphina murmured, wondering for the umpteenth time why the mysterious Imperial did not have a name.
The thief nodded as they weaved through trees and past bushes. It was going to be a long journey, made all the more troubling because he was stupid enough to make it with his mask on. He knew the moment they reached a village or even a farmhouse he would have to remove the mask and be gone to her and he wondered if it was really worth it. 'I could travel freely without the mask and still be with her,' he told himself, 'so why then do I do this? It's not as if she knows me with it on, it's still just a guise and a title, there is no Corvus!' He scowled in frustration. 'The Stranger is one title, the Gray Fox another, I am no one and nothing to her or anyone else. I should be Corvus, Corvus Umbranox, that forgotten man, what if I forget him too?'
As they journeyed, stopping to battle a couple of wolves and then a moody boar, all of which they handled with ease, the thief considered his longest plan, to end the curse. Ten years now, it had seemed futile for a couple of those years but he had never given up and now at last he thought he might have an answer, a chance. There was a way, a slim, risky and almost impossible way but there was a way. He looked to Seraphina wondering when he should tell her, pondering that perhaps he should ask for help with the matter. He could not do it alone after all. If the curse was removed he could be known to her and she could return with him to Anvil. He paused at that thought. 'To be what?' he wondered. 'Ten years ago I thought this curse would only last a year at the most and that we could go to Anvil and be a family, Millona and I could never have children after all...but it's not like that anymore. Sera is in love with me or an idea of me and I've let that happen.' He sighed, prompting the blonde to glance his way.
"Is something wrong?" she queried softly.
"No," he lied.
Seraphina sensed the lie but she did not press the issue, long used to his moments of anger and despair, at first they had been few then common but lately they had grown less frequent and she wondered if the thief had finally decided to accept his lot in life. 'It could be worse,' she thought to herself, 'for both of us, I could be dead like mother and he could be an ordinary thief, if one has to be cursed as a criminal being the most impressive of them isn't the worst thing.'
It was late in the evening when Seraphina and the Stranger arrived at Roxey Inn, a two storey inn of wood built on the Red Ring Road. The downstairs reception and dining room were busy enough with a drunk Breton mumbling to himself about blurry vision, a group of four rough looking rogues and warriors, and a Redguard who had eyes only for the fierce faced Nord innkeeper.
The rogues all looked up warily as Seraphina entered with the quiet Imperial, and a balding male Breton at the table let out a leering whistle. Seraphina took the time to give the man a wilting look of scorn before the Stranger pushed her on to the counter.
"Now Brucetus," another Breton chided his companion, "there's no need to be so rude."
"I wasn't," the balding male scoffed, "I was being complimentary."
The second Breton tutted, leaned across the table and remarked quietly with a grin, "let me show you complimentary."
Seraphina heard the quick screech of wood on stone as the Breton stood up and she gave him just the quickest of glances. She had already observed that all four of them were armed and wearing decent armour, there was only one exit, which also served as the entrance and three potential neutrals, who she doubted would suddenly take her side should the mercenaries choose to get rowdier.
"Good evening," the Stranger greeted the Nord innkeeper stiffly, "could we purchase two rooms please?" He had already gathered from the small size of the inn that the rooms probably weren't very big and to garner more business the innkeeper had probably chosen to have several single rooms instead of a few doubles or a few of each. It meant she could charge couples and groups for separate rooms instead of them saving money by sharing. It was an obvious tactic employed by many inns along the road; some even offered bedrolls for an extra cost should people insist on sharing or should all the beds be occupied.
The Nord nodded back calmly and retorted sharply, "twenty gold each."
"That's a bit excessive," Seraphina was swift to scorn.
The Nord gave her a cool, brown eyed look of annoyance. "Take it or leave it," she snapped back. Her gaze softened just a fraction then and she grumbled carelessly, "business is slow alright."
"Why?" the Stranger pried curiously turning her gaze back on him.
It was then that the Breton rogue finally stepped up behind Seraphina. "Pardon me," he said politely, "but could I offer you a drink as an apology on behalf of my crude friend?"
Seraphina glanced him over, he had the better of armour of the group and probably the biggest sword too, he was a sly smirking Imperial oozing with confidence, taller than the Stranger and possibly older, with greying black hair and smooth, golden brown skin. "And you are?" she quipped with disinterest though a sharp pang ran through her as she thought, warily, that he looked familiar.
"Claude...Claude Maric," he introduced proudly as he scrutinised her with his dark stare. "Hmm I should like to think if we had met before I would remember you and yet whilst I cannot recall your name, your charming face does look familiar."
If his words did not suddenly put her on edge they might have sickened her but as it was Seraphina was all too cautious now of people who seemed to know her. 'Did he see me too?' she wondered in annoyance. 'Do I have to wonder at every face that glances twice at me? Probably he's just seen me about the marketplace but do I take that chance?'
"I do not know you sir," she retorted frostily before turning from him back to the counter.
"Well that is no reason to reject my offer of friendship," he scorned at her back as his smile widened.
The Stranger turned to him with an icy look of warning. Claude had dismissed him as a harmless, shabby looking Imperial when he had entered the inn but as he looked at his wintery blue eyes he spied something dangerous there and knew that the man was far more than he appeared. The Imperial rogue studied the man swiftly, he had no armour and if there was a weapon it was concealed, he should have been no threat and yet something in his stare made Claude uneasy.
"My friend and I simply want a place to rest," the Stranger addressed Claude calmly, "no drinks or friends, though we thank you for offers of both but we are tired."
Claude nodded as he resisted the urge to take a step back, knowing how his followers would interpret that. "Very well, I apologise for any offence, have a good evening."
The Stranger nodded back and Claude returned to his companions who had watched the encounter intently and now looked at Claude curiously. "Not your type?" Brucetus queried mockingly as he leaned back in his chair and glanced over at Seraphina again. "Well I certainly like blondes especially feisty ones!" He let out a loud laugh.
"Feisty?" the only woman at the table, a tough looking Nord, queried in puzzlement. "Now how do you know she's feisty?"
"I've seen her at the marketplace a few times," Brucetus retorted with a shrug, "she's the one Umbacano complains about, thinks she's a thief but he's no proof."
"Is that right?" Claude queried thoughtfully as he glanced back over at the woman with fresh suspicion.
The Stranger accepted the keys for their rooms and led the way upstairs, the two were on the left side of the hall beside each other. He unlocked the door to Seraphina's room first; it proved to be a narrow and dark chamber with dust gathering on the only piece of furniture in the room, the bed, and cobwebs hanging low from the ceiling. She stepped into it with ease whilst the Stranger looked at it aghast. She turned and caught his horrified stare and smiled. "There's worse," she reminded him.
He nodded glumly though he doubted it. "Goodnight Sera," he said politely as he held out the key to her.
She accepted it, her hand brushing along his briefly though it was unintentional. She paused at the gesture and looked up at him guardedly, staring into his cool blue gaze. It was so like the Gray Fox's ensnaring stare, cool and crisp like a winter's sky, filled with so much grief and pain, and yet... 'He's not him,' she thought as she dropped her hand and bowed her head. 'He's just some strange friend of his that he can't or won't explain,' she thought as she murmured, "goodnight."
He stiffened slightly, loathing the confusion in her emerald eyes, years ago twice he had shouted at her, 'I'm Corvus' and then even 'I'm the Gray Fox' but she had not taken it in, looking at him vacantly instead and then in astonishment when he had broken down into angry sobs. She had attempted to console him but it was difficult to console someone who was effectively a stranger to her. 'Soon,' he vowed as he turned away and headed to his own bed, 'soon she and everyone else will know Corvus Umbranox again.'
Seraphina locked her door immediately before lying down on the hard bed and sliding under the thin and filthy blanket. She was too tired from travelling to be bothered about her surroundings or the lack of light and wanted no distraction from a flame and the shadows it made dance along the walls anyway. Within the hour she was asleep.
The activities of the inn quietened down just two hours after midnight as the now relatively drunk group of mercenaries staggered up to their own beds. The sound of their heavy boots and loud, drunken murmurs awoke Seraphina and the Stranger briefly before they realised what the noise was and drifted back into sleep. An hour after this and the inn garnered a new arrival, a shadow unseen by the tired innkeeper who crept up too soft for even the mice to notice.
This new arrival knew exactly where they were going, pausing outside one door pointedly and making sharp work of the simple lock with ease. The door opened without a creak and closed just as gently. Deciding that theatrics might serve him well again he took the time to light a single candle and lift it up, holding it low below his shrouded face.
"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer."
Seraphina awoke suddenly at the words, wide eyed and ready to let out a scream even as she grasped for both her daggers.
"I would suggest listening to what I propose before you make a sound you might regret Seraphina Solita," he continued calmly with a small grin.
She knew his uniform well though she did not know him, the image of men and women in hooded black robes had haunted her for many years now. It was possible he was not one but highly unlikely, few would be foolish enough to don an outfit so heavily associated with such a dark and dangerous group. She held her tongue out of fear though part of her contemplated risking it all and lashing out with her daggers. She knew the reputation of the Brotherhood however and knew he would strike her dead before she could even draw a blade.
"You prefer silence, then?" he quipped tauntingly as he raised a dark eyebrow. "As do I, my dear child. As do I. For is silence not the symphony of death, the orchestration of Sithis himself? Ironic, then, that I come to you now as Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. My name is Lucien Lachance, and my voice is the will of the Night Mother. She's been watching you. Observing as you kill, admiring as you end life without pity or remorse. The Night Mother is most pleased... That is why I stand here before you. I bear an offering. An opportunity... to join our rather unique family..."
Her body turned to ice and her green eyes went as wide as saucers as she wondered if this was just a terrible nightmare fashioned by Vaermina. She wanted to speak, to protest her innocence but she had none to protest and yet this could not be right either. 'He knows,' she thought in horror, 'everyone knows! I tried to outrun it and yet the truth has followed me, there is no escaping this terrible deed.'
"So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely for your situation is rather unique Sera."
She shook her head in protest at last as Lucien stepped swiftly out of the way as the door was forced in. The Stranger rushed in with a sword at the ready and immediately placed himself between Sera and the Imperial who had intruded upon her.
"Ah, not quite who I was hoping for but you will do," Lucien addressed him with a wide grin.
"Do for what?" the Stranger demanded as he held the sword out threateningly. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"Recruiting," Lucien retorted simply, "would you prefer the alternative?"
"I'm not a murderer," Sera choked out at last as she stood up with her daggers out, ready to battle back with the Stranger.
"No?" he queried again in a voice that Sera knew was mocking and yet it sounded sincere. "The Night Mother seems to think otherwise, as do several residents of the Imperial City. You can both be foolish and attempt to cut me down and add to your short but growing list of victims," he remarked, still ever calm, "but it will not undo your deed nor will it hide it. I know, the Night Mother knows and I am very certain the guards of the city will soon know too."
"Certain?" the Stranger quipped bitingly. "Is this blackmail?"
"No my nameless friend," Lucien answered him swiftly as he turned his golden-brown stare his way. "It is an offer. Choose to be welcomed by the Dark Brotherhood or cut down by them Seraphina, for we do not leave loose ends."
"Loose ends?" the Stranger queried in outrage. "What do you mean?"
"Killers who do not belong to the Brotherhood are very much loose ends," Lucien answered with a glimmer of malice in his gaze.
"I'm not a killer!" Seraphina snapped as she trembled in anger. "I'm not! It was an accident, I won't do it again!"
"It can start that way," Lucien commented smoothly.
"No!" she protested again with a shake of her head. "It was an accident," she insisted.
"And is that what you will tell the guards?" he quipped as he turned his stare upon her at last. "More importantly, will they believe it?"
"We will take our chances," the Stranger growled out warningly.
"Against the Imperial City legion and the Brotherhood?" Lucien folded his arms and gave the Stranger and Seraphina a taunting smirk. "If that is your choice Seraphina very well but I warn you now, it is the wrong one, if you wish for life I am the only chance you can take."
"Why?" she demanded. "If I was good at killing you would not have found me and there would be no witnesses, what use could I be to the Brotherhood?"
"One can always learn to kill better," Lucien retorted as if they were discussing learning how to cook, "in truth there is a spark in you and it did not go unnoticed, a dark spark only some in Cyrodiil have, people can kill by accident, luck or fluke, that is true, but very few have it in them to make an art of it, a skill, a talent, and you are one of them. You were sloppy, beginners usually are, and clumsy but that can all be smoothed out with training and experience."
"No," she answered flatly, "no I won't kill again; I can't have blood on my hands."
"You already do," the Imperial assassin reminded her, "and that will never be washed off. You can never undo it so you may as well add to it."
"Why are you pushing for this?" the Stranger demanded angrily. "She is unwilling and unskilled at your...profession," he spat the word out hatefully. "Why not find another who wants to join?" He was beginning to sense that Lucien had not drawn his sword out of cockiness but certainty instead, somehow the assassin knew his life was safe and that he would win this battle with words and much as he wanted to prove him wrong, the Imperial thief knew as well as Seraphina that members of the Brotherhood had their reputation for a reason. This seemingly overconfident, glib tongued man could probably kill him and Seraphina both with breaking a sweat or earning a single injury upon his person.
"The Dread Father works in mysterious ways and the Brotherhood and I like to follow that example," Lucien answered cryptically. "If you want the truth of the matter send your leader to me, the one called the Gray Fox."
"So that's what this is about," the Stranger growled out, letting his fury show, "you want to get to him! Why? To kill him?"
"No, nothing so dramatic," Lucien scorned, "but it is not a meeting for the dark hours of the morning. Seraphina I will not give you this choice again, come now and join a family with bonds forged in blood and death or choose to make an enemy of the Brotherhood and the city."
"Wait!" the Stranger protested before Seraphina could answer. "I can get the Gray Fox, just wait!"
"No," Lucien answered coldly, his gaze narrowing slightly as he lost some of his charm, "not now, not yet. She joins the Brotherhood first then after a time the fabled thief and I will talk."
"You bastard," the Imperial thief snarled as he swung his sword downwards in a rage, letting it clang off the wooden floor loudly. "You want her for a bargaining chip that's all! Look, you don't have to do this, he will talk to you without her, I swear."
"I do not doubt it," Lucien murmured, "but there are other things to consider, things he may not do so easily but I have already said too much and wasted too much of a good morning. Seraphina?"
His eyes were upon her once more, almost like Roland's, warm and golden like honey but tainted with a drop of light brown, there was a cruelness at their edge, he had no remorse for what he was doing, no concern as to whether she chose to bloody her hands further or risk her own death. She felt helpless under his stare and loathed herself for feeling so weak. What could she do though? If she refused to join he was likely to cut her and the Stranger down here and now and if he did not there would be others, others pointing and grabbing at her like the beggars on the street, painting her walls with accusations and worse, the guards would find her. It was not a nobody she had killed but a rich man who probably had influential friends and heirs who would bay for her blood, hired bounty hunters would come for her along with guards and assassins, she would always be watching over her shoulder as she had been the whole time she had been on the road from the city.
'I cannot live like that,' the blonde realised, 'I would not last long and it would be a miserable life to live anyway. I need time, time to think of a way out of the mess if there is one.' She thought of her poor mother and Thomas and felt sick at the thought of joining the same group who had cut them down. 'Will I really stop looking over my shoulder with them?' she wondered sardonically. 'Pondering if her killers are there in the shadows, if one of them might look upon me and know my face. It was so long ago, ten years, and I never knew if they were even after me really. No, this one has found me, if he has others could have, they know me not as Alexandra.'
"I will go with you," she answered stiffly, earning a choked out gasp of horror from the Stranger who turned to her in shock and dismay, "but I will not forget the thieves."
Lucien shrugged. "Stay with them too if they will let you but if I am not mistaken they, ironically, have a code concerning killing, so strange for thieves to attempt to have morals," he mocked. "For now however, you and I must take our leave."
"To where?" the Stranger snarled.
"That is not for an outsider to know," Lucien retorted bluntly as he opened the door and beckoned Seraphina forward with a pallid hand.
'Onwards to death's beckon,' she thought dryly as she took a tentative step forward and then another. She paused and looked to the Stranger and said softly, "let him know what happened and that I was not willing. I cannot outrun all of Cyrodiil, nor he, it is not possible. I know if there's a way out of this he will find it."
He nodded weakly as he thought bitterly as to how untrue her words were. 'Even she wants to believe in his myth though she knows it is just that,' he thought angrily. "Farewell Sera."
"Farewell."