Chapter 19 - Isolation

Loredas went by slowly and quietly as ever and turned into Sundas. It was then, that Bellamont finally returned to his Sanctuary. The long way from Bruma to Cheydinhal had managed to calm himself down greatly. Oh he had been so angry, when he had to flee Uvani's little tavern room. He had been so close to utterly humiliate his former Speaker. But at least he knew that this accursed Dunmer was dead. There was no coming back from that.

Two down and when Arquen and Ungolim are dead too, the remainder of the Black Hand will have no choice than to evoke the ancient ritual of waking the Night Mother. And then it will be my time to shine.

He thought, slowly making his way through the sleepy streets of the city. His goal was the abandoned house, that everybody else in the city seemed to ignore. Townsfolk said, the abandoned house was haunted, that the family, that had lived there a long time ago had been murdered and now their ghosts would kill anybody who dared to enter. Someone had even written a play on that. He paused in front of the house looking up to the boarded up windows. Normally he would have laughed at such nonsense, but an uneasy feeling had come over him. Like eyes watching his every move. Eyes that belonged to the shadows. A chill ran down his spine. Yet the house, as sinister as it looked, was the same as ever. Carefully he made his way over to the well in its backyard. No soul around and yet this place felt crowded. And the feeling of being watched only got stronger. He let his gaze wander around once more. Tried to look deep into the shadows surrounding the yard, but wasn't able to see anything.

The ghosts are out tonight.

He mused, remembering how his mother had told him ghost stories when he was a little kid. How they would cause the body to chill up, when they were around. He chuckled.

Stupid tales.

He unlocked the heavy iron gate covering the well and took a deep breath. He needed to be calm and focused for what he was about to do. Without another look around, he climbed down into the well.
He did not notice the dark shape moving on the houses roof. A black robed figure, that jumped down into the yard as soon as Bellamont had disappeared, and walk over to the well. For a moment, the man just stared down the entrance, ignoring the eerily red glowing dots in the shadows of the house. Moments later another tall, dark-clad figure emerged from the shadows.

"By the look on your face, that was the one you were looking for."

Lucien turned by the sound of Sorilkad's dark and gravelly voice.

"Yes. It was."

The Imperial almost spat in a bitter tone of voice. Sorilkad walked up to his friend, hands hidden in the long sleeves of his robe. The dark colours of his robe faded so very well into the shadows, yet Lucien was surprised to see Sorilkad walk around with the tell tale emblem of the Worm Cult displayed so openly.

"And it took really a lot of self-control not to jump down after him and kill that bastard."

Lucien hissed, his gaze wandering to the well entrance again. Sorilkad nodded and pointed to the well.

"If I remember correctly you told us to stay away from there. And yet here we are, so very close. Don't you think we should move into the shadows? Just in case someone comes out?"

Lucien sighed, yet followed his friend into the shadows again. There the Dunmer turned.

"Did you catch up to the latest events here in town?"

The Imperial nodded with a sour expression.

"One of my assassins, a close friend of mine, got captured by the guards and is now held and tortured in prison."

To Lucien's surprise the Dark Elf nodded yet again.

"The Vampire. I've heard. Rumours have it, that someone tipped off the guards."

Lucien's gaze hardened and wandered over to the secret entrance to his sanctuary.

"Bellamont!"

He spat.

"I need to know, what he's planning down there. And I need to know it now."

He turned fully towards the well, but a warm hand landed on his shoulder. The gaze of cold brown eyes met with blood red ones.

"Don't worry."

Sorilkad said in a calm voice.

"You'll get to know as soon as Caman is here."

A low chuckle came out of the shadows.

"Than you can start my dear Sorilkad."

Both men turned to the Altmer, who stepped out of the shadows and walked over to them with a big grin. Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"Look at that. You actually can be sneaky."

Caman's grin widened.

"I can do a lot of things you don't know about."

He paused, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"So! What's the fucking plan?"

Lucien took a deep breath.

"I'll try to sneak in..."

"NO!"

He was cut off by Sorilkad's growl. The assassin looked at the Dunmer with a scolding look. Sorilkad held his hands out to the sides.

"That's too dangerous. If you get caught it's over. For all, they know you are still a traitor."

He paused, looking from mer to man.

"They would not hesitate to kill you. But tell me, Lucien, does this sanctuary have a Dark Guardian? Like the ones you had wandering around Fort Farragut?"

Lucien's eyebrows wandered up on his forehead.

"Yes...Why?"

Sorilkad's gaze briefly met Caman's who already had a knowing smile on his face.

"Caman, I may be in need of your strength later on. The spell surely will leave me drained."

The smaller mer said calmly, to which Caman nodded.

"Always, Soril."

The Dunmer took a deep breath, then knelt on the ground, still well within the shadows. He ran his hands over the short grass.

"You two keep an eye out for guards. But what ever you do, don't break my spell!"

Both men nodded, tense with anticipation. Sorilkad leaned forward until his forehead touched the cold ground. He started mumbling something in his low grumbling voice. Words so alien, they did not make sense to Caman or Lucien. And then his body seemed to cramp up, going rigid. A heartbeat he stayed this way before suddenly straightening up, head thrown back. His face was void of any expression, just a blank stare with wide eyes. But his red pupils were gone, replaced by an eerie green glow.

Mathieu walked into the living area looking around his Sanctuary. Everything seemed in order so far. But he wasn't here to make sure everything was quiet. No, he was here for one of the assassins in particular. He had noticed how Antionetta Marie had isolated herself from the family in the last few weeks. His well placed lies and little intrigues had taken effect sooner than he hoped and estranged her to a point where she was actively avoiding the others. She, who always had such a desire to be noticed and climb the ranks was now an outsider. And now he felt she was ready for what he had in mind for her.
Bellamont walked by the latest recruit, a Dunmer with eerily light coloured eyes and dark skin. He did not like that mer at all and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't say where his dislike came from. Maybe it was, because Lucien had brought him into this family. Or maybe it was because of those freaky eyes. He couldn't say, but he would make sure, to take those eyes out first, before killing him.
Ghost stopped and turned, watching his Speaker disappear into the training area. He was weary of this Breton, he didn't like the vibes he gave off. And he could tell, that Bellamont did not like him either. Ghost shrugged and turned to the sleeping area. And nearly ran into the Dark Guardian who was walking down the hallway. Ghost scratched the back of his head. That skeleton was just weird and he asked himself for the umpteenth time, with what purpose the undead moved. Now it seemed to follow Speaker Bellamont. A smile appeared on Ghost's face.

Looks like the Guardian doesn't trust you either.

He thought, before disappearing into the dormitory.

Bellamont had finally found Marie. She had hid herself away in the kitchen, like so often these days. She sat on the table, head in her hand and drew invisible patterns on the table with the other one. She looked up, as she saw movement out of the corner of her eyes and a small shy smile graced her lips as soon as she recognised her Speaker.

"Speaker Bellamont."

She greeted him, almost nervously brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Bellamont inclined his head slightly.

"Antionetta. I was looking for you."

He paused and smiled down at the slender blonde woman.

"I wanted to talk to you. In private. Please join me at my quarters."

Her cheeks got a rosy complexion as blood shot into her head.

"Yes...Yes, of course. Just give me a moment."

Bellamont gave her a small smile.

"Fine then,"

He said, before adding with a more seductive tone

"Just don't let me wait too long, little Antionetta."

A short while later, Marie entered her Speaker's private quarters and as she did the Dark Guardian followed her in, shuffling around the room before he finally stopped and stood still, facing the back of the room. Bellamont raised an eyebrow as he stood and closed the doors, watching the skeleton warily. He wasn't very fond of the Guardian, it crept him out, but he knew that it was here ever since he could remember and it would be unwise to attack it. Or get rid of it. That only would raise unwanted questions. He sat down on the edge his desk, shrugging the uncomfortable feeling the skeleton gave him off and turned his attention to the Breton female. She had washed herself, made her hair and even applied a little mascara. Smiling he stood again and closed their distance. Leaning in close, he took a strand of her golden hair in his hand and inhaled deeply.

"You smell nice."

He purred into her ear, causing her to giggle shyly. Still smiling, he stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging her neck. He could feel her tenseness resolve.

"You know, I would really like to spend more time with you."

He smirked, as he heard her gasp softly.

"I'm flattered, my Speaker."

His hands wandered up her neck to the base of his skull and he could feel her lean into the touch. His smile widened, he had her exactly where he wanted.

"What's wrong with this Sanctuary?"

He finally asked, breaking their contact. Almost startled, she blinked a couple of times, before searching his gaze.

"What do you mean?"

She asked in an unsure voice. Bellamont sighed dramatically.

"I did not fail to notice how the others treat you. They try to push you out of the family."

Her blue eyes started to water and she wrung her hands in front of her chest.

"I was so shocked. No one ever told me about my cooking. They could have told me."

The Speaker nodded solemnly.

"They lied to you, knowing it would hurt your feelings. But that's not the only aspect they lied to you. They pretty much want you out."

The young woman looked up in shock.

"Out? But why?"

Again he turned towards her, lifting her chin with one hand.

"Isn't that obvious, my sweet Antionetta? They are afraid of your skills."

He paused a moment, studying her face.

"Ocheeva very well knows that you'll outrank her someday and take over the Sanctuary. Teinaava is loyal to his sister. And Telaendril is jealous. She noticed, how you impress men. She's afraid you might take the Orc for yourself. And she is jealous that I, the Speaker, fancy you above all others."

Again Marie could feel the blood rush towards her face and she looked away in embarrassment. Mathieu curved his lips up into a sinister smile. She was ready.

"Antionetta. Look at me."

She obeyed, big round eyes meeting his cold blue gaze. Gently he cubbed her cheek with one hand and almost immediately she leaned into his touch. He bend down and touched his lips to hers. She froze for a heartbeat, before melting into his embrace, kissing him back with a longing passion. As they broke for air, Mathieu whispered.

"I said, I would like to spend more time with you."

She gave him a happy smile, her arms sill around his necks and her hands gently playing with his light brown curls. The Breton pulled her closer, pressing her against his body both possessively and protectively.

"I would like to make you my Silencer."

His free hand traced her jawline, her cheek and then travelled through her golden hair.

"You and I. We could live together. Travel together."

Again he lifted her chin.

"Would you like that?"

Smiling she nodded and rewarded him with another long passionate kiss. He was close now. So close to achieving his goal and Mathieu knew that he had to be very careful now.

"You would outrank Ocheeva then."

He suggested.

"I would like that very much."

She whispered. Mathieu smiled and pulled her close to him, letting her head rest against his chest. The young woman stayed this for a while, contend in the safety of his arms, the warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his heart. And for the first time in the last few weeks, she felt good again. Felt accepted and wanted.

"What about contracts?"

She asked after a long period, where the two Bretons just stood in the silence of a loving embrace.

"Only the finest."

He whispered, burying his face into her hair. She bend her head to the side a little inviting him to nuzzle her neck. He kissed his way down her neck and softly bit her shoulder, before he finally brought a little distance between them to look deeply into her eyes.

"Actually I have a contract entrusted to me by the Black Hand itself."

There was a spark of curiosity in her eyes, which made him smile.

"A contract I would only entrust to my best. To you."

He paused and finally let her go. Moving over to his desk, he motioned her to sit down opposite of him. She sat down, still flushed and with her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Am I dreaming this? Please, don't let this be a dream.

She thought, fidgeting with her fingers in her lab. She had always hoped to get her Speaker's attention. True, she had always hoped it would be Lucien to give her such affection. She had always viewed him as her saviour. But now he was gone and to be honest, Mathieu was a handsome young man. And he had a real interest in her. She would do anything to please him, to keep his attention. Bellamont produced a scroll and held it up.

"This."

He waved the scroll around a little.

"Does not come easily to me. But, it seems like we still have to deal with the repercussions of Lachance's betrayal. It seems like he has not been working alone."

He made another dramatic pause, watching her closely. She was still hanging on his lips like a good little puppy.

"I was ordered to do the ancient ritual of a Purification."

Marie's eyes widened in shock. Behind them, the skeleton guardian turned around and walked up to him. The gaze of his empty eyesockets seemed to fix on the pair of Bretons as if he understood what Purification meant. Bellamont sighed.

"Normally, a Speaker tasked with the Purification would see to it, that everyone in the Sanctuary was send to the Void. No survivor. You however, are above all suspicion. As I said, I have watched you and the other closely."

Antionetta nodded as understanding dawned on her. Her Speaker. Her lover? Had just saved her from a dark fate. And he even wanted her to perform the ritual.

"What shall I do?"
She asked sternly and with grim determination. Bellamont almost laughed out loud but was able to hide his glee behind a mask of calmness.

"Then listen very closely, my dear. I want you to cook for them tomorrow. Something everyone would eat. A stew."

The blonde female nodded.

"Good. I want you to lace this stew with this powder. Make sure it dissolves completely."

He handed her a small bottle with a fine white substance in it.

"It's a powerful sleep-inducing drug. Once they are all asleep drag them out into the hall and bind them tightly. Don't kill them, however. I want to have a word with all of them before we kill them off together."

The Speaker reached over the table and grabbed her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Do you think you can do that for me, my Silencer?"

He paused and added with his most charming smile

"My love."

She bit her lips, considering all she just has heard. To kill every member was...harsh. But the Black Hand deemed it necessary.

Who am I to question the Black Hand.

She asked herself before looking up. With a deep breath, she said.

"I will do as you command, my Speaker."

Bellamont rose.

"Splendid! Prepare the meal in the evening."

He rounded the table and pulled her up to him by her hands, before kissing her deeply. Her arms circled around his neck and she pressed her body against his. She wanted to feel him, wanted him to confirm that she was doing the right thing. His hands roamed down over her back until they rested on her waist. There he pushed her away gently.

"I fear I must take my leave now, my love. The Black Hand calls me."

Her gaze dropped to the floor, yet she nodded and stepped away from him. He pressed a quick kiss against her forehead and shushed her out of his room. Bellamont's smile faded as soon as she closed the door behind her.

"Stupid bitch."

He hissed and turned around, almost running into the Dark Guardian standing directly in front of him.

"What are you looking at?"

He snapped at the undead, though knowing that he would not get an answer. The skeleton seemed to glare back at him through unseeing eyes and a cold shiver ran down the Breton's spine. He shook himself

"Nasty little creature."

And stepped around the guardian and behind his desk, locking the fake Purification order away. He would not want little Antionetta find it accidentally and inform the other members of his little scheme. He missed the skeleton's hands curl into tight fists.

"Speaking of nasty..."

Bellamont muttered, leaning back in his seat.

"Arquen is still waiting in Fort Farragut. She will be thrilled to learn of the recent events."

The Dark Guardian's body slumped forward a bit, causing Bellamont to raise an eyebrow, but then it resumed to shuffle around the room, just like it always had. The Speaker dismissed the odd behaviour and rubbed his hands over his eyes. He was exhausted from the long journey.

"Stupid bitch!"

Sorilkad said in his low and hoarse voice, his eyes still wide and glowing green, his posture upright and rigid. Lucien turned towards the well, his face red with anger

"I'll kill him!"

He growled deeply drawing his dagger. After what he just had heard, he was so furious, he did not care about any plans. All he wanted, was to slice the traitorous Breton in many little pieces. Wanted to protect his family, spare them the torture he had to endure. But before he was able to reach the well, a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder and yanked him around. Blind with rage, his reflexes kicked in and he threw his arm out, aiming for the others heart. His movement was sudden and quick, but Caman acted on his own reflexes. He grabbed the man's wrist with one hand and turned the blade over Lucien's thumb disarming him, before sending the Imperial to the ground with a jab to the face. With an angry glow in his eyes he grabbed Lucien by the collar of his robe and pulled him up again.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He hissed. Lucien spat a mixture of blood and saliva and shoved the Altmer back.

"He will kill them all!"

Caman shrugged.

"Are you dead up from the neck? You can't stomp in there like the sodding Imperial Legion! Last I checked, you were labelled a fucking traitor!"

Still angry, Lucien picked his dagger up again, his fist around the handle so tight, his knuckles turned white. The elf sighed.

"Look. We know of his plan. He will not act now."

Lucien's raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

"And fucking calm down! Or I'll knock you out!"

Behind them, they heard Sorilkad mutter something about Fort Farragut and then the green glow left his eyes. With a gasp, the Dunmer's body went limp and collapsed to the ground. Lucien and Caman turned, staring at the mer, who lay in the dirt face down.

"Soril!"

Caman whispered and was by his friend's side in a heartbeat, carefully turning him around. Sorilkad was out cold, sweaty hair clung to his forehead, his breath laboured. The High Elf scooped the mage up in his arms as if he was a child.

"We need somewhere to hide!"

He hissed at the Imperial, who stood still frozen to the spot.

"Quickly!"

Lucien glanced over to the well a last time, before motioning the Altmer to follow him. Bellamont would leave the Sanctuary in the next couple of moments, but Lucien hoped he would go through the well. He knew it was a gamble to hide in the abandoned house, but they had no other way to go. Even the laziest guard would come running if he caught a glimpse of them. An unconscious Necromancer, a tall redhaired warrior and a man in black robes were far from inconspicuous. The Imperial glanced around quickly the dark and empty roads, before he ushered the Altmer inside. They hurried up the staircase, past the ruined fireplace and up the second staircase into the attic room. Caman gently place his Dunmeri friend in the small turret with the broken window and drew his dagger.

"What's wrong with Sorilkad?"

Lucien asked, honest concern written all over his features. Caman drew breath, but as he was about to retort, they heard a door slam shut on the ground level. Both men's eyes widened a little.

"Stay with Soril! Keep him quiet!"

Caman whispered and moved over to the balcony overlooking the fireplace. Lucien nodded grimly and with his Blade of Woe drawn, he knelt down beside the passed out friend. Caman's sensitive ears picked up light footsteps moving around the ground level. And then they heard the creaking of stairs, as the person slowly moved up the wooden flight of stairs. Caman pressed himself against the wall, watching a man with a black robe coming up the stairs and walking past the fireplace. They heard him rummage around in a drawer below their attic room. Again, the High Elf glanced over to the Imperial and shot him a warning glare. As much as Lucien wanted to sneak down and kill Bellamont he understood the Altmer's silent warning. It was not his time yet. At that moment Sorilkad woke up and started to moan. Lucien hastily pressed his hand over Sorilkad's mouth. The Dunmer's eyes snapped open, but he was too weak to struggle. His gaze met with Lucien's and the assassin pressed his index finger against his lips and the Dunmer nodded. Carefully the assassin retracted his hand and looked over to the Altmer. The noises downstairs had stopped and Caman was quite alarmed. He was so tense, that his hand with the dagger shook slightly. Downstairs the movement started up again and Caman caught glimps of the man again as he walked over to the fireplace. Now he was dressed with common clothes. Cold blue eyes briefly looked up the staircase, as Mathieu hesitated to leave. He wasn't sure if he had heard something. Caman held his breath, pressing himself against the wall even more. And then the Breton went down to the ground level. Neither man dared to move, while they heard the front door open and shut. Slowly Lucien rose but Caman motioned him to stay put. Silently the Altmer moved down to the lower level, before he crouched down and looked over to front door. The ground level was empty, yet he wasn't sure. It could be a trick after all.

"He left."

A voice came directly from behind him and made the Altmer jump. He hadn't heard Lucien come down the stairs as well. He glared down at the Imperial.

"I saw him walk away through the window."

Caman nodded and walked past the assassin and knelt by Sorilkad's side. The Dunmer was seated against a wall.

"The fuck Sorilkad!"

Caman hissed, forcing the Dunmer to look into his eyes. Sorilkad opened his eyes and glared at his friend.

"Told you I would need your strength."

The Altmer frowned.

"That bloody spell knocked you out cold!"

Without warning, he pulled the Dunmer into a tight hug.

"Stop scaring the crap out of me!"

"Don't worry, I won't kill myself!"

Their gazes locked for a couple of heartbeats, a deep understanding in both of them. Both had always viewed the other as a brother. Caman gave him a good look over, his hands heavy on the Dunmer's shoulders to steady him.

"Can you walk?"

Sorilkad shrugged.

"I can try."

The Altmer held his hands out to the smaller mer and helped him up but as soon as Sorilkad stood up, he swayed and stumbled. Caman caught his friend before he fell and held him steady.

"That's no good, Sorilkad! I'll carry you back to your guild!"

At the balcony, Lucien turned with raised eyebrows and pointed at Sorilkad's chest.

"Like that? They have him hanged ere morning!"

The Altmer followed Lucien's index finger to the emblem on the Dunmer's chest.

"B'vek! Those fucking laws against necromancy!"

Caman hissed, biting his lips with a grim expression. But then his green eyes lit up, as his gaze fell upon the assassin.

"You! Cyrodiil! Undress!"

Lucien crossed his arms in front of his chest, yet remained silent, unmoving. Caman rolled his eyes.

"Get the fuck out of your robe!"

"I have heard you the first time!"

"And?"

Lucien sighed and opened the laces of his overgarment. His garment was of simple black colour, no markings on it at all. Something he needed to get from town to town without raising suspicion. He tossed it over to the Altmer who carefully dressed his Dunmeri friend with it, before scooping Sorilkad up in his arms. On his way down he yelled up to the Imperial:

"We meet up tomorrow evening at the Newland's Lodge."

Moment's later the front door slammed shut, leaving Lucien alone in the attic room. Alone with his troubled thoughts. He watched the mer walk over the long bridge and disappear in the night, before he too went downstairs. He needed rest, but most of all he needed a plan for tomorrow.

Arquen awoke by a slap to her face. Her eyes snapped open and met the cold gaze of Bellamont.

"Missed me bitch?"

He hissed, slapping her again. Her lip broke open and blood ran down her chin. Mathieu smiled and licked the red liquid from her features, before he held a cub of water against her lips.

"Here. Drink. You'll need your strength."

His tone of voice had turned almost caring. Arquen gulped the stale water down in greedy sips. She had been bound and alone for almost a week now. A week without food nor water. The Breton changed the cub with a bowl.

"Here. A broth. We don't want to eat something heavy on an empty stomach, now do we?"

Arquen almost burned her lips on the hot soup, but starved as she was, she did not care. After she had eaten and Bellamont had put the bowls away, he sat down on her bed side.

"Please Mathieu. Untie me."

She said, her voice weak and hoarse. Her wrists and ankles were raw and infected by now. A smile appeared on Bellamont's face and he shook his head with a sad sigh.

"You know, I can't do that."

The Speaker paused and unbuttoned his shirt. Arquen sank back into her pillow, closing her eyes. She knew deep down, that she would die here. That nobody would come to aid her. She had come to accept that this was her punishment for murdering an innocent brother. She sighed, then remembered something.

"What did you do to Alval?"

The young man chuckled.

"Aww look at you. All chained up and yet you want to know about his fate. That's sweet Arquen."

He stopped again and looked her over, letting his hand trace over her curves. She shivered and tried to wriggle her body away. He grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed it hard enough to make her eyes water.

"Very well. I ambushed him in his room and made him drink mead. A lot of mead."

Arquen's eyes widened a little. She knew of Uvani's allergy to honey. Knew that it would paralyse him and even kill him if the dose was right.

"You know, I really enjoyed seeing him. His body convulsing and wriggling like a fat maggot. I really wanted to shove my cock up his ass."

His gaze met hers.

"I was actually pretty angry, that I didn't have the chance to fuck him."

He smiled down at her with an eerie glow in his eyes.

"But you. You can't run away. And nobody will disturb us."

He unlaced his pants and pulled them down, revealing to the Altmer woman, that he already was excited. Bellamont climbed atop of her, pressing his body against hers. Arquen hissed in pain, her wounds from his whipping had not yet healed and she was bruised all over. Bellamont kissed her roughly, forcing his tongue deep down into her mouth, while his fingers clamped around her lower jaw, to prevent her from biting him. She gasped as she felt his erection press against her entrance.

"Please don't."

She whimpered, her voice flat. The slap came out of nowhere, her head flew to the side and for a moment stars danced in front of her vision.

"Shut it bitch. If you wanna cry, cry my name!"

She stared up at him.

"And you can start now."

Mathieu purred. Arquen's eyes widened, as she understood what he meant. He shoved his full length into her without hesitation. She bit her lips so hard, she drew blood, to keep herself from crying out. The Breton pulled himself out and smiled widely, as he saw that he was coated in blood already. He bend over her, licking her ear and biting into her neck.

"Don't be so quiet, dear sister."

He whispered, biting her again, deeply. And this time she did cry out. Smiling, he shoved himself into her again, beginning to pound her mercilessly. A tear started running down her cheeks and Bellamont's face began to blur. And then it was gone altogether, replaced by a memory from long ago.

Arquen was still young, even for an elf. In human years she would be no older than 15. But that didn't stop her uncle from molesting her. It had started with a gentle touch here and there. Then he had pulled her down to sit in his lab. And sometimes she could feel a hard bulge there. She had tried to tell her mother, had tried to tell her father. But they wouldn't hear it. And then her uncle moved in with them and her torture started. He would drag her to his chambers every other day and fondle her. Had sex her. Rough merciless sex, that made her always ach afterwards. She did not like it and begged him to stop, but he always told her that it was ok. That he loved her. And if her crying was to much for him to handle, he would gag her. Like this time. He was a heavy set man. Too heavy for an Altmer male with a pronounced belly and a breath reeking of alcohol. His chunky fingers were all over her as he pounded her in a fast paced rhythm. Kissed and licked her, while she had the urge to take a long bath. She had learned a long time ago to just lay still and let it happen, he would stop eventually. And she would not be too bruised and hurt afterwards. He let out a highpitched squeak as he came into her, only to collapse and nearly smother her under his weight. Soon after he rolled over and began to snore softly. Arquen sat up in bed, looking down at her uncle. He was a lot smaller than her father and not so muscular as well. Her gaze went over to his pants and the discarded belt. Slowly she got out of bed and knelt down, weighing the belt in her hand. Would she be able to strangle him? He grunted in his sleep and turned around. She looked down at his naked from full of disdain and disgust. She let go of the belt, it was not her time yet, she was not strong enough. But her time would come. Quietly she slipped out of his room and down to the small creek running nearby. She needed to wash his filth away from him.

Her lower body burned like fire, as Bellamont pulled out of her and climbed out of bed. He didn't even bother to wipe her blood away from him, while he filled his glass with fine wine. He sat down in a chair, legs spread apart widely for her to see his manhood. He took a big sip and leaned back, pulling his sweaty hair out of his face. Arquen kept staring at the ceiling. Bellamont frowned, she seemed not quite here. He emptied his glass and walked over to a basin filled with water out of a well. He filled a bucked and dowsed her upper body with the chilling cold water. Arquen gasped in shock, pulling on her chains.

"You didn't scream my name."

Bellamont said coldly staring down at her with his gruel blue eyes. She looked up at him, her eyes red and watery.

"I'm sorry..."

She whispered, her voice void of any emotion. Bellamont smiled, touching himself.

"You will learn."

Was all he said, before he returned to his table and poured himself another glass. He tilted his head to the side, regarding her.

"What is on your mind, dear Arquen."

A tear ran down her cheek.

"Nothing."

His gaze lingered on her, while he drank his wine in silence. He drank the whole bottle, ere he returned to her bedside. There he sat down and almost gently stroked her cheek.

"My dear sister. Soon I will be the only thing you'll have in mind. I promise."

His voice sounded gentle, but she knew, that he did not mean well. Mathieu bent down and started kissing her. She did not resist, she just let it happen. The Breton frowned. He liked it more when they struggled.

Maybe she needs a good spanking first.

He thought, a delighted gleam in his eyes and stood up to retrieve his belt. As the hard leather hit her chest, she let out a pained shriek. Then another one and another one, until her body burned and ached and her mind fled into the sanctuary of her shattered mind.

She did not know what happened to her. Over a couple of month her belly started to swell. It got bigger and rounder and after nine month, she felt so heavy, she barely could perform her chores. She tried to speak with her mother, but she did not listen. She tried to get around her chores but her father would have non of it. And her uncle did not stop to have sex with her, even if it hurt her. And then one evening she got cramps. Unbearable cramps, that only would get stronger and stronger. In her desperation, she went down to the small river and sat in the icy cold water, hoping her cramps would go away. And then it felt like something popped inside of her and her cramps would come in shorter intervals. Out of instinct she started to press. The pain so strong, she thought she would die. But the pain passed, and she delivered a healthy boy. Long she sat by the stream, holding the infant in her arm, staring into the void. She didn't know she had been pregnant. No one had told her what changes she was going through. Nobody in her family seemed to care, they just locked her away, so no one else would see her. The baby struggled in her arms and cried. It was a boy. Finally she looked down at him. Chubby pink face, little fingers curled and uncurled into tiny fists. And startling blue eyes. He looked nothing like her uncle and yet she knew he was his offspring. A tear rolled out of her eye, while she pressed her hand over nose and mouth of the baby boy. It didn't take him long to start struggling. She buried him next to the well where the green lily grew amongst the bushes.

Bellamont threw the belt away as his aching cock begged for release. Hastily he climbed onto the bed and shoving himself all the way up in her. He liked the way she shivered and wriggled from the pain. Her cries were music to his ears. He started to move, fast as first, but as he neared his release he slowed down.

"You know, tomorrow will be a great day."

He told her, moving with a delicate pace. Her eyes regained focus at the sound of his voice. She looked into his eyes, a mixture of pain and confusion written all over her features. He thrust his hips forward with a pleasured moan.

"Tomorrow, everyone in the Cheydinhal Sanctuary will die."

He explained further, picking up the pace a little. A smile tugged at his lips, as her eyes widened in shock.

"A … spy of mine will poison them. Bind them. And then they are ripe for the plucking."

He snickered.

"And I can promise you, I will torture each of them."

She looked at him with bewilderment.

"Why?"

She asked. Bellamont bent down and licked her cheek and ear. His thrust now became more frantic again. His breath was laboured and sweat dripped down onto her face.

"Because I will extinguish the Dark Brotherhood."

He bit his lips and moaned. And then he climaxed biting deep into the tender flesh of her breast. But Arquen didn't feel the pain any more. Her whole body was in agony. Her flesh raw, bleeding and bruised. Inside and outside. Finally Bellamont was finished for the day, climbing down and washing himself up. He dressed with a light linen shirt, bending down to her and giving her a rough kiss on her bleeding swollen lip.

"Sleep well dear sister."

With that, he was gone. But Arquen did not hear him. She was already back into her own world, haunted by her memories.