The Sanctuary
Nazir watched the new girl - he'd forgotten her name already - at her target practice. She was fast and she was accurate with her bow. Perhaps she wouldn't disappoint, but he was still dubious. The Brotherhood had been dwindling in size for years and at times even Nazir was amazed at how dysfunctional their strange family could be. In his estimation it was the vampires. They seemed to thrive on drama and if there wasn't enough to suit them, they would soon manufacture some. Arnbjorn seemed to think the whole reason the new girl was here was to give Babette and Astrid something to do, although, as he watched her, he could see her skills were not to be easily dismissed. He waited until she walked to the target to retrieve her arrows. "Astrid wants me to give you your first contract."
She turned away from the target and looked at Nazir. Despite his impressive height and mass, the man seemed friendly enough. His voice was low and pleasant and he spoke as if he were well educated. "Yes, sir. I'm happy to get started," she replied.
He rolled his eyes. "Save the niceties for now. I have no intention of getting invested in someone who may be dead tomorrow. If you're still breathing in a few weeks, I'm sure we'll be the best of friends."
Taken aback by his stinging comment, Nessa frowned but said nothing more.
"This isn't particularly glamorous. The target is a mine owner, Beitild, over in Dawnstar. It's completely up to you how to do it. The contract doesn't require anything specific."
"Who wants her dead?" Nessa asked.
"Ha ha! Very funny, new girl, and that isn't any of your business, but I'll tell you this time. She and her husband are separated and they run competing mines. Let's just say… they didn't part amicably and leave it at that."
"Gods… her husband?" Nessa flinched at the thought of a marriage going so terribly wrong.
"I have a bit of advice for you, new girl. Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to and try not to talk to your targets. It makes it harder to kill them sometimes. You'll hear a sad story from them and then you'll start to question things. I guarantee it, most of the time they're lying."
Nessa nodded her head. She could imagine the sort of story Grelod would have told someone. Maybe she could actually have made someone feel sorry for her, although Nessa couldn't imagine anyone feeling sorry for that horrible old woman. "Very well. Beitild. Dawnstar. Got it. Any advice?"
"She's an angry woman and tends to lash out in anger. She gets into fights. No one would question you if you had to defend yourself. On the other hand you might find it easier to slip into her house late at night and cut her throat. Either way, she's dead."
A contract. Nessa, in a bit of a daze, thought that now she was a professional killer. Her mind went numb. What should I be feeling now? She didn't feel anything. It must take time for these things to sort out.
"Any other questions, new girl?" Nazir asked.
"My name is Nessa."
"I'll learn your name if you're alive after a few weeks, new girl." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Don't disappoint me." Gods, she was too skinny and too young. Even if she was fast with a bow he doubted she would have the strength and stamina for the job. "Oh, and try not to die. I hate that."
"I won't die." She turned away from the Redguard and yanked the arrows out of the target. Everyone always underestimated her. Well… it wouldn't be the first time. She jammed her arrows into her quiver and started for her room.
"Your archery is excellent," a soft voice said to her from the shadows.
She whirled around. Veezara was crouched down near the little pond inside the great hall. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there."
The Argonian smiled kindly at Nessa. "I was trained from birth to be an assassin, I'm often overlooked. It's an advantage, really."
Nessa crouched down next to him, feeling uncomfortable towering over him. "From birth?"
"I am Shadowscale, hatched under the sign of the shadow. I was trained in the arts of stealth and assassination by the Dark Brotherhood. I am the last of my kind. Now my order is extinct, but I happily serve Astrid, and this sanctuary."
"Is there anything I can bring you from Dawnstar, Veezara? I'm going there." Nessa wanted to do something nice for him; he'd been so pleasant to her any time they'd talked.
He shook his head. "No. Don't trouble yourself on my account, my friend. But there is something I want you to have." He handed her a black arrow with black feathers. "An ebony arrow. They've always brought me luck."
Taking the black arrow from him Nessa carefully put it into her quiver. "Thank you, Veezara. I may need some luck one of these days."
"Walk in shadow, my sister." He patted her on the arm.
Nessa got up and walked up the stairs to her room.
"He likes maple candy."
"Gabrielle!" Nessa hadn't seen her either. She tended to disappear into shadow with her dark skin. She was going to have to get used to people popping out of the shadows. "Oh… Veezara likes maple candy?"
Nodding, Gabrielle handed Nessa a bottle. "Poison, if you need it. I just milked the venom out of Frosty this morning and brewed that fresh."
"Oh, thanks!" Nessa was touched by the thoughtful gift. The people here were a little odd, but seemed nice in their own way. "Can I bring you anything from Dawnstar?"
"If the apothecary has any giant's toe, I could use one. They've gone… extinct around these parts." She smiled lopsidedly. "Can't imagine why."
"Fair enough. Thanks again for the poison."
"Astrid likes marzipan." Gabrille added. "Might be hard to find in Dawnstar."
"Marzipan, maple sugar and giant's toe. Got it."
"Good journey, sister." Gabrielle nodded formally and went to the alchemy table.
She made it to her room and packed the few things she would need. She decided to dress plainly and take a wagon from nearby Falkreath to Dawnstar. If anyone asked, she could say she was on the way to Winterhold to visit her cousin at the mages' college.
She took a look around her room and wondered if she would ever see it again. She frowned thinking Nazir's pessimism was rubbing off on her. Of course she would survive. This should be as simple as killing Grelod. She left her room and walked up the hallway past Astrid's office.
"Nessa." Astrid called her name as she passed her office. "Come in a moment."
She turned into the side room that Astrid used as an office. She was bent over a big map of Skyrim now, her finger tracing along a road. She straightened and smiled at her protégé. "Here's some money for your expenses and a little extra. I want you to have fun." She picked up a small sack of coins and handed it to Nessa. "If I could, I'd go with you, but we're expecting the Night Mother and her keeper to arrive any day."
"The Night Mother?" Nessa asked.
"Yes, you're familiar with the story of Night Mother, the unholy bride of Sithis?" she asked.
Nessa shook her head. "Not very. Just stories kids told each other at the orphanage."
"The Night Mother married Sithis and gave him five children, which she sacrificed to him. She died long ago, but her corpse is still around and a keeper takes care of it. Once she would speak through a listener and tell them whenever the Black Sacrament was performed. Then the listener would dispatch someone and a contract would be reached. Very nice, except the last listener was killed and there hasn't been one since. Now all of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuaries have been raided and rooted out all over Tamriel except ours. We are the last." She made a sour face. "The current keeper is bringing the Night Mother here to keep her safe."
"You don't seem happy about that."
"Hmmm…" Astrid mused. "No, I'm not." She walked over to Nessa and stroked her cheek, her eyes looking more serious than normal. "Keep this to yourself, my sister."
Nessa nodded and looked at Astrid intently.
"We're not a conventional Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. We've discarded the old ways and I run this organization in a manner that suits us just fine." She began to pace as she explained. "The old ways didn't help any of the other sanctuaries. They're all gone now. We are the last. We've had to adapt and be flexible. Someone does the Black Sacrament and we hear about it, eventually. Or one of our many associates will bring us word of a contract. We get by. I make certain we get by." Her voice hardened and she sounded fiercely protective of her group of assassins.
"Will that change with the Night Mother coming here?" Nessa asked.
Astrid stopped pacing and turned to look at Nessa. Seeing her standing there, looking so innocent and young, put things into perspective. There was no need for the Night Mother's coming to change anything. Her keeper could keep the moldering old corpse out of sight somewhere. Hopefully, whoever the keeper was, they'd be smart enough to see how things stood here and who was really in charge. And if not… well… the keeper might find himself on the wrong end of a dagger.
"No, my sweet. I see no reason for it." She stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the map table. "The nasty old corpse and its keeper can rot together in one of the caves we'll set aside for them."
"Do you believe that this Night Mother really did talk to people? Do you think," she lowered her voice to speak his name, "Sithis is really her husband. Do we go to him after we die since we are assassins?"
Astrid laughed heartily. Her rich, melodious laugh was like a lazy brook spilling over sun-warmed rocks. It seemed to warm the chilly sanctuary. "Oh my sweet, no. No, I don't. No one knows what happens to us when we die. Or at least, no one has ever come back to tell us. These are all just stories people tell to frighten others or comfort themselves."
Nessa's relief was palpable. She didn't want to be some sort of eternal handmaiden to the hideous god of chaos or his nasty wife. Astrid was right. These were just stories they told to keep people in line. She smiled at Astrid. "You must think I'm a child at times." Her own naiveté embarrassed her.
"I think," Astrid closed the distance between them and put her mouth right next to Nessa's ear, "you're absolutely adorable." She put her hand under Nessa's chin and pulled her into a soft kiss. Their lips touched delicately just for a moment. Astrid broke away even though she was sorely tempted to push further. Nessa needed time and pushing too hard, too fast, might scare her off. She wanted Nessa to be aching for her the way she was aching for Nessa.
"Hurry back, dear sister," Astrid said and she kissed her delicately on the nose. "I am going to want to hear all about your first assignment in lurid detail."
Gods! The kiss left Nessa nearly breathless. It was like those women in the book only it stopped far too soon. "I will, Astrid." She took one last longing look at the guild leader and turned to leave.
"Wait! Wait!" A shrill shriek echoed up the stairway followed by the pounding of feet on the stairs. "You forgot something!" Babette dashed into view holding a book. "You need to read your history lessons while you're gone." She thrust the book into Nessa's hands.
"Oh right!" Nessa quickly stuffed the book into her bag, not wanting Astrid to see the title. "Um, thanks." She hugged Babette quickly. "See you soon." She turned and jogged up the remaining stairs, turning to wave back at the two vampires before opening the door and going out into the chilly, morning air.
Astrid watched the door slide shut behind her and then stared pensively at it. These next two weeks were going to be long. The girl was hardly even gone and she missed her already.
"You love her, don't you?" Babette said surprised at the sudden realization that her friend was pining for Nessa already.
Astrid glared at Babette, her eyes narrowing. "Don't be stupid."
"You do. You totally do!" Babette cackled with glee. "Astrid loves Nessa!" she sang out at the top of her lungs.
Astrid lunged for Babette. "You little, unholy terror, I do not!"
The tiny vampire shrieked and skipped away, laughing hysterically. "Do too!"
~o~o~o~
Nessa took a room at the inn at Dawnstar. She arrived dressed in common clothes, her weapons tucked away in her bag. She had a story ready of how she was traveling to the mages' college to work in the kitchen and decided to stay in Dawnstar and look for work. It was too late in the day to scope out where Beitild lived and get ready, so she decided to rest.
"There's always work at one of the mines," the innkeeper told her. "It's nasty work though. I don't recommend it."
"Well… I might consider it. Perhaps I'll just poke around for a day or two and see what's available." Nessa ordered an ale and took a seat at the bar. "I'd like a hot bath and some food."
"Aye, lass. We've got a hearty shepherd's pie. There's snowberry pie if you want it too. I send Funny Tom to prepare your bath. That's an extra septim for the bath and another for the pies."
Nessa had the money, and to spare, but it would look suspicious if she weren't offended by the price. She sputtered and choked theatrically. "Twelves for a room, hot bath and pie? That's… robbery!" She sighed and cast a forlorn look at the innkeeper. "Come, sir… I'm a long way from home and my money isn't going to go far at these prices."
He cocked an eyebrow her way and shrugged. "A pretty girl like yourself, you take a bath and there's a dozen men that'll be in this inn tonight that'll give you a septim each if you're nice to them. Then you could say our hospitality was free."
She fought the urge to throw her mug of ale at him and storm out of the inn. She narrowed her eyes and tried to remember to play her role. "My mother didn't raise a whore." She dug through her pockets and produced the required payment. "I hope Funny Tom is funnier than you are."
The innkeeper flashed his broken teeth in a smile. "He ain't funny like that. He's tetched. Always mumbling about this and that. Never makes a damn bit of sense." He picked up Nessa's coins and stared at her chest. "I could see my way to give'n you a discount, lass. Just come to my room a bit later and I'll give you some of these coins back, eh?"
"You got your coin… just get me that bath and my pies. My bed better not have any gods damned bugs!" Nessa got up from the bar and went to sit at a table near the singer.
The innkeeper didn't dawdle too long and came with her pie. He stood over her a moment and tried to look down the neck of her dress. Nessa began to think about putting the inn to torch when she left town. Sadly, innocents would suffer for a few moments of sweet payback; nonetheless, the thought warmed her as much as the fireplace did.
She finished her ale and pies. Another slice of snowberry pie would definitely be welcome, and Astrid wanted her to put on some flesh, but if she were playing at being a poor traveler looking for work it would unseemly to spend more coin. She rose and stretched, then went to her room.
A young Imperial man was filling her tub while mumbling to himself. He paused a moment after dumping in a bucket of steaming water and looked at her. "Dragon, dragon burning bright. Try to hide in the night. Blood and gold. The dragons see the light and they come. They always come." His voice trailed off and Nessa couldn't hear exactly what he was saying. Did he know somehow that she was the one they were calling the dragon born? How could he know?
"You must be Tom." Nessa listened to him mumbled as he poured the next bucket.
Aye, Tom. Fetch water, Tom. Chop firewood, Tom. Funny Tom." His voice grew louder, then quieter, and he wouldn't make eye contact with her. "I know who I am but the dragon born is unborn. Until the dragons burn away the night, the blood, the gold. Then she'll know."
A shiver went down Nessa's spine. She scoffed at herself. The man's ranting had nothing to do with her. She wasn't the dragon born and even if she was, how could he know? Although a strange thing or two… the runes in the Sanctuary had pulled her to them. They had glowed eerily until she had reached out and touched them. They'd felt funny and flowed into her. She'd withdrawn her hand quickly thinking she might have broken some magical enchantment and Festus might yell at her. Ah! This was all just crazy. Probably every madman from here to Cryodiil was muttering about dragons.
Funny Tom finished filling her tub. She fumbled for her purse and gave him five septims. "Don't tell anyone I gave those to you, all right?"
Tom looked at his hand. "This is bloody gold." But, blood or no, he stuck the gold in his pocket. "'Ware this, bright lady: The ones you love will betray you because mother loves you best."
"My mother is dead, Tom." Nessa cocked her head and watched, wondering about his last comment. Could he know her mission? He spoke no more nonsense and left her room. She forgot him quickly. Her tub was full of steaming hot water and it drew her. She had avoided the hot spring in the Sanctuary, except at hours no one was likely to be there. To have privacy and a tub of hot water to herself was heaven. She undressed, bolted the door, and climbed in, luxuriating until the water cooled.
After her bath she hied herself to bed, with bugs – not too surprising – to nibble at her skin all night. She dreamed of Astrid and herself on the Reverend Mother's bed. When the dream seemed about to spiral to an erotic conclusion, the sound of metal striking rock woke her. She groaned in frustration and struck her pillow with her fist. "Gods damn! What happens next?" she asked the four walls. She yanked the blankets off her body and welcomed the abrupt chill; it helped to dampen the turmoil she felt in her body. Then she dressed in her plain garb and walked through town ostensibly looking for a job.
She spent the morning talking to many people. She learned more than she ever wanted to know about the private lives of the citizens of Dawnstar and even helped a few out with some tasks. In return they fed her and she didn't have to pay the usurious innkeeper or suffer him leering at her. During the course of the day she learned where Beitild's house was and with a little prompting even learned about her habits. It seemed the woman had a fondness for mead and often drank with her workers at the end of a day.
That gave Nessa an idea. When the sun began to set she ventured out to the smelter where the miners were gathered, drinking mead. In Nessa's pocket, there was a little paper folded around a powder that would guarantee a very deep sleep. It was something Babette taught her to make. She'd even had it used on her when the Dark Brotherhood had kidnapped her from the midst of the thieves' guild. She knew firsthand the sort of deep unconsciousness this could bring.
She made shy eye contact with one of the miners who stared at her as she walked by slowly and she was soon invited to join them. Beitild lived up to her reputation and hit the mead hard. Nessa, pretending to be drunker than she was, stumbled, knocking over the mine owner's mead.
"Oh! Ma'am, I am awfully sorry. Please, let me get you another one." Nessa apologized profusely and threw herself on the mercy of the cantankerous woman.
"Ha! You're a damn klutz girl. You damn well better get me another one, and come right back here and sit down next to me." She ran her eyes boldly over Nessa.
"Yes, ma'am," Nessa said, nodding at the grimy woman. Oh great! She stinks, she's covered in black soot, and she's taken a fancy to me. Gritting her teeth, she hurried off to fetch another bottle of mead for the woman. She paused momentarily to pour some of the powder into it. This powder would have her wanting to sleep very soon, and it would be the sleep of the dead.
She rejoined the miners and handed the mead to Beitild. "To your continued success!" Nessa clinked her own bottle against her target's doctored bottle.
Beitild eyed the pretty, young Nord. "Yesh… My sussess!" She smiled broadly at her and gulped down the mead. "Talos! That was good." She patted the wooden bench she sat on. "You girl, sit down and tell me your name. Why haven't I seen you before?"
Nessa smiled prettily and sat next to the mine boss. This was certainly going to be easy. "I just arrived in Dawnstar last night, ma'am."
"Ma'am… I like you girl, you have nice mannersh." She swayed closer to Nessa and fondled one of her braids. "But I don't know your name yet and I'd like to get to know you better. Mush…better." She put an arm around Nessa and drew her in closer.
"I'm…" Nessa stumbled for a moment, trying to think of a name. Why hadn't she come up with one beforehand? Her mind went completely blank. "La…nee…via," she stumbled over the syllables, trying to improvise.
"Lanivia? That's pretty. Never heard it before." She sighed and her eyes went closed for a moment and then popped open. "Lanivia…" Her head fell sideways onto Nessa's shoulder. "Talos's balls girl, I'm sleepy."
Trying not to cringe away, Nessa put her arm around Beitild's shoulders to keep her from falling over. "Would you like me to help you to bed, ma'am?"
Her eyes opened to slits and she leered at the girl next to her. "Yesh… take me to bed sweet, Lanivia." She seemed to summon a last bit of strength and sat up straight. "If any of you rock-heads see Leigelf, my lousy ex-husband, tell him I'm taking the prettiest girl in Skyrim to bed tonight!" She shouted the last and thumped the table angrily with her empty bottle of mead. Then she slumped over on Nessa.
"Oh dear," Nessa looked down at the unconscious woman. "Can someone help me get her into bed?"
The miners around her erupted into laughter. They joked with one another about Beitild being too drunk to take advantage of her good luck. The miner that had invited Nessa to join them volunteered to help her get the mine owner into bed. They carried her through the town to her house and Nessa rummaged through her pocket to find a key and they opened the house. Together they carried her to her bed and laid her on it.
The miner scratched the back of his neck and looked at her slyly. "I don't think she's going to wake, girl, if you were up for a bit of fun."
Nessa drew herself up and glared at the man. "I don't think your boss would like to hear you stole me from her, do you?"
"Oh, sorry miss. No… I better go." He practically ran for the door and pulled it closed after he left.
She latched the door after the man left and built up a fire.
Why?
Well, Beitild might be going to her afterlife soon, but Nessa didn't want her to be cold. It wouldn't do to kill her too soon. After the other villagers went to bed, that would be appropriate. That meant she had some time to… kill.
Talos! Time went slowly, far too slowly. There was too much time to think. She was going to kill this woman. This would be the third person she had killed in cold blood. The first was Grelod, and then there was Khajiit prisoner in that abandoned shack. This was different. This time she was doing it for gold. Her mind drifted back to Riften. What would Brynjolf say if he knew? She felt ashamed of herself. He had obviously had high hopes for her. She hoped he thought she was dead. They wouldn't tell him, would they? She didn't want him to know. Maybe she should ask Astrid.
Thinking back to her brief time with the thieves made her sad. She missed the other thieves. Sweet Rune, handsome Thrynn, funny Vipir, even Vex and Sapphire – well, not much actually, they hadn't been all that friendly, although Sapphire seemed to be coming around. Mercer though… that man she did not miss. Something about him frightened her. Brynjolf should be running the guild. He was a natural leader and truly charismatic. Mercer had all the charm of rabid badger.
She stared at the fire and mused for quite some time. Every now and then she got up and peeked out the window to see if the lights were out. Might as well see if there's anything of value to take with me. She rooted around Beitild's house and took elves ears and garlic, useful alchemy ingredients. There was a hefty coin purse and she found a gold necklace, which she pocketed.
At last it seemed like all of Dawnstar had gone to bed but for a guard or two she could easily avoid. She sat next to Beitild on her bed. "I am sorry," she whispered to the unconscious woman. A tear slid down her face, not for the woman she was about to murder, but for herself. She bit her lip and drew her dagger. Remembering what Astrid had told her, she positioned herself so she wouldn't be splattered with arterial blood. She made the necessary cut and carefully cleaned her knife off on the dying woman's shirt. Sitting on the hearth she watched the blood puddle around the woman and soak into her bed.
This is what I am now.
It was an irretrievable step taken. Her past was disappearing over the horizon. It was useless to look back with regrets. She got up and left the house quietly. It was simple to avoid the patrols and pick up her belongings from the inn without being seen. She went to the stable on the outskirts of town and picked the strongest looking horse. Speaking to him softly, she quietly led him to the road and mounted. Then they were off, pounding toward Falkreath.
Her blood pumped with adrenaline from stealing the horse, but none of her excitement was due to killing the woman. This was nothing like the stories the other assassins had told her. She could only imagine the disappointment on Astrid's face if she relayed her lack of enthusiasm for what she'd done. Disappointing Astrid was the thing she wanted to do least in this world. All the way back to Falkreath, she practiced the story she would tell her.
~o~o~o~
Notes: Nekomara, freshneverfrozen, Biff McLaughlin, Woopsiedoodle, Zevgirl thanks so very much for reviewing!
I dedicate this chapter to Two-buck Chuck who inspired me through his cheap, wet love. (Google that if you're curious)
For the non-Skyrim players: There's a frost spider in the assassin's sanctuary. I decided to name him Frosty. He's a big, ugly spider… just like in Dragon Age. I have to assume they milk him for venom. Erk! Who gets that job?