Solitude
Arnbjorn hunted again; this time no wolves attacked when he howled his challenge. They'd learned their lesson, much to his disappointment. He was spoiling for another fight, something, anything to take his mind off… things.
He knew he should go back to town and talk to Nessa, try to straighten out things, but he hadn't worked out this conflict within himself yet. Tomorrow night, perhaps, after a full day apart, maybe that would restore some perspective to both of them. Still, the memory of her as that red cloak fell to her feet fired his blood. He howled again, hoping the remnants of that wolf pack would meet his challenge.
~o~o~o~
The sun was barely down the following day when he returned to the city, sneaking through the gathering shadows to Nessa's window. She was dressing; he could see her, although it was too dark outside for her to see him. He watched her pulling on small clothes. They must be the new ones she bought, and they hugged her form fetchingly. Then she put herself into a corset and struggled with the laces. He marveled again at her flexibility as she put her dress on and managed to button all those tiny buttons in the back.
The thought that she was going out to meet someone else made him seethe, but that emotion just reminded him that things had gotten out of hand. How could he have such strong feelings for another female when he was married?
What was it she said two nights ago? "I love where I will." He paced outside her window wondering what she meant. Could she love us both? It wasn't right. It went against the natural order of… things. But didn't Astrid love her? She wouldn't admit it, of course, but he knew.
Growling softly to himself, he knew he was the problem. It had been hard enough to admit he loved Astrid but once he did he knew it was for life… his life. He always thought that was exclusive; there was only room for one woman in his heart.
Ridiculous.
He stopped his angry pacing and went back to the window. She was putting on her new cloak now; she'd be gone in a moment. He thrust upward on the window pane, trying to slide it open, but it wouldn't budge.
Dammit, she locked it.
He rapped on the window to get her attention. She jumped, startled, but came to the window and unlocked it. "Don't lock me out, bit," he said gruffly.
"I was just leaving. I don't want to keep the Imperials waiting," she said bitterly.
He noticed the drawn look to her face. Something was wrong. "What is it?"
She thought about keeping it to herself, but she needed a friendly ear. Arnbjorn might be toying with her affections, but he did seem truly concerned. "The wrong Imperial wants to bed me." She flung her hands up in frustration. "General Tullius!" She shivered with revulsion.
When she said the man's name she went pale and looked near to tears.
"Bit, sit down. Tell me what's happening," he said.
She sat on the edge of her bed, trying not to wrinkle her cloak. "I met Liore and Tullius last night and sat with them. Liore left and Tullius propositioned me. Apparently they're good friends and came to some agreement about who should get me." She said the words with distaste.
There was something unspoken. This was more than a plan going awry. "We'll figure it out, bit. They're friends, so presumably they spend time together? Perhaps being close to this… Tullius isn't so bad. You'll have an opportunity to serve his friend a drink, right?"
Nessa nodded miserably. "Tullius asked me to become his mistress. He wants an answer tonight."
There was something missing. She'd been ready to do this very thing with Liore, why was Tullius such a problem? "What is it, bit? I thought you were prepared to do this as Astrid suggested?" He couldn't bring himself to say what he wanted, that she was prepared to whore herself out for Astrid.
Nodding, Nessa nervously twisted at her cloak. "General Tullius…," her voice faded to a hoarse whisper. "He was there. In Helgen."
Helgen? She'd spoken of that town before, that night she had a bad dream. "What happened there, bit?"
She shook her head. "Can't talk about it. Not now." She knew she'd fall apart badly if she started to relive that day. It wouldn't do to show up for dinner with eyes red from crying.
"We can still find another way to do this," he offered. "Your idea of slippery stairs wasn't bad."
Nessa shook her head and looked defiant. "This is my job." She set her jaw grimly. "I can do this."
She left and shut the door behind her. Sitting in her room, he thought about what the life of an assassin was doing to her. For him, there was little difference between being a mercenary and an assassin. Someone just pointed him in a direction of a target and he would kill it. It wasn't the same for her. She had been a girl with no real identity but the one she'd taken from the thieves, and now from them, especially from Astrid. His wife had determined that Nessa would seduce her targets and kill them subtly. That was a harder job than his.
~o~o~o~
I can do this. Nessa's grim demeanor slowly changed as she walked to General Tullius's fine manor. Her face relaxed and she breathed deeply of the fine sea breezes. She'd been to see Cordula earlier in the day and had an embarrassing but necessary discussion with her.
"If one isn't feeling… romantic and one ends up…," she said, gesturing helplessly with her hands, trying to say what she needed to say without actually saying it, "… doing that. You know, it hurts. What can one do to make it less painful?"
Cordula had just looked at her completely mystified for a moment. "Oh! Are you talking about sex?"
Nessa turned red and nodded.
"Ah, I see. Well, I've got just the thing. It is a secret from the ladies who do that sort of thing professionally, but known by every woman with a less than pleasing husband." She laughed lightly. "Really useful stuff made from spriggan sap and mora tapinella spores. It's clear, not messy at all, lasts a long time and gives a pleasing warming sensation. Some women swear it makes their wifely duties enjoyable. It's called spriggan oil."
"Where do I buy it?" Nessa asked. "I need some right away."
"So, I take it you've had some luck with Liore?"
Nessa shook her head. "Not precisely. The path is a little more roundabout. It's General Tullius who has taken a fancy to me."
"Really?" Cordula's voice rose in pitch. "Tullius! Wow… old Tully hasn't taken a mistress since he's been posted to Skyrim. You must've really made an impression."
"Yes," Nessa said dryly, "I can hardly believe my good fortune."
Cordula laughed again. "I suppose that makes things more difficult for you though, but Tullius isn't that bad. I'd do him."
"I wish you would," she said. "I don't like him. Where can I get some of that oil?"
"I'd better buy it for you, dear. It might cause tongues to wag if General Tullius's mistress is buying spriggan oil."
She paused outside the general's fine manor and thought of things that made her smile. It would not do to show up looking like she was headed to her own execution. Why did I think that now? Imagining Taarie and Endarie in rags and whipping them through town cheered her up. She fingered the packets of powder she had in her dress pockets: two doses of a potent sleeping power. Given enough, someone would fall asleep and never awaken.
The dinner was an elaborate affair; the general had quite a household of servants to look after him. There were so many courses that Nessa lost count. She didn't have much of an appetite to start the evening, but after the third course she was already full, but the food kept coming. She learned to take just a little each time.
The general seated Nessa on his right and Liore on his left. It was just the three of them that night. Nessa felt very self-conscious but managed to acquit herself well, watching the two older men to see how they behaved. She kept up a lively end of the conversation, always turning questions away from herself to the two men. The alcohol flowed freely and both men were getting a little red faced by the end of the dinner. Liore's laugh was becoming raucous. If she were lucky, perhaps she could get a moment alone with Liore's glass. Better still if Tullius would drink too much and be unable to act on any amorous intentions.
"Are you enjoying dinner, my dear?" Tullius asked her, putting his hand over hers and looking at her solicitously.
Nessa smiled brightly. "Of course, who wouldn't? Two such accomplished dinner companions and such wonderful food!" She almost softened a little; the general did seem truly concerned about her welfare. Perhaps he wasn't quite the monster she'd imagined, but then the image of him at Helgen lording it over their execution returned and so did her revulsion.
"Your house overlooks the harbor, doesn't it?" Nessa asked, knowing it did. Perhaps if they went to the balcony she could find a way to slip the contents of the packets into Liore's drink.
"Yes, a beautiful view it is too," Liore spoke for Tullius. "A night like this with the moon full and the sky clear, should be very pretty. You should show the Melia the view, Tully," Liore said, sipping at his wine.
An opportunity? Nessa thought. Perhaps if they took the wine with them, she could offer to refill their drinks and discretely drop the contents of a packet into Liore's wine. She was afraid to drop them both in at once, if he got too big of a dose he'd drop unconscious where he stood. Well, she'd have to play it by ear.
"Why don't we all go out on the balcony," Nessa suggested.
"Good idea," Tullius said. "I'll have Maven brew us some mulled wine we can sip out there."
"Ha!" Liore raised his glass to Nessa. "You still owe us a song as well, lass."
Tullius rose and the three of them walked out to the balcony. "Bring your glasses. We'll hear her song on the balcony."
They walked out together onto the balcony and sat at a stone table, sipping their wine and chatting. Liore was getting pretty drunk and that made Nessa hopeful. After a time, she saw that Liore's glass was empty.
"Ah, you need more wine, Calvus. Give me your glass, I'll get more for you," Nessa offered. She hoped he'd let her refill it, rather than wait for the mulled wine.
"Ah, you're a good lass," he said. "I shouldn't have let Caius steal you from me."
"Nonsense, Melia, I have servants for that," the general said.
"Oh, don't trouble them," she replied. "I can walk in there and get him more." She hoped to deflect him from insisting that the servants attend to them by planting a quick kiss on his cheek. "Do you want some too?"
He looked pleased at the gesture of affection, hoping that she'd answer him in the affirmative when he asked for her answer this evening. If everything went well… He afforded himself a rare smile, thinking of bedding the girl. To that end though, he'd better layoff the drinking otherwise he'd end up disappointing his new mistress on their first night together, providing she consented, of course. He flicked his hand toward the dining room, dismissing her.
Nessa walked leisurely into the dining room, not wanting to give away her nervousness. One packet now would make him seem very drunk. The second packet would send him into an endless sleep. There was a servant clearing the table when she got back to the dining room.
"Is there anything you need, ma'am?" the Dunmer maid asked.
"Yes, could you get me a glass of water? I have something in my thoat."
"Of course, ma'am. It'll be but a moment."
"Take your time," Nessa said smiling kindly at the girl. Please…
The maid left and she quickly emptied the first packet into Liore's glass and then filled it with wine. She let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief as she swirled her finger in the glass to dissolve the powder. That will get me half-way there.
The maid returned with the water and Nessa accepted it. She went back to the two men and handed the wine glass to Liore and sat next to Tullius and sipped her water.
Liore was in the middle of bragging to his friend about his stake in the East Empire company and how he was squeezing out one of the other major stakeholders by buying out some of the smaller owners.
"Falco was livid when I bought out Destri Lavos. That puts me one minor buy under him. If I can offer a fat enough buyout to someone else, I'll be one of the top three owners." He laughed loudly and slapped his thigh.
Tullius chuckled with him. "I can bet Falco was mad. You're lucky he's in Raven Rock, otherwise he'd probably throttle you. The man always did have a temper."
Nessa suddenly realized who it was that had probably hired them: The owners on the council of the East Empire Company, most likely.
Liore puffed out his chest. "Let 'im try. I might not be as young as him, but I know how to use a sword. Eh?" He picked up his wine glass and took a long draw. "Ahhhh," he said and wiped his lips off. "Damn good vintage, Tullius." Then he looked Nessa. "You owe us a song, Melia."
"I want to hear more about your strategy with the East Empire Company. Do you really think you can sit on the council for them?" She'd been having good luck directing them to other topics all night; it wouldn't hurt to make another deflection.
"Why Melia," Tullius scolded her, "are you trying to get out of singing for us tonight?" He smiled at her. "That isn't going to work. Sing your song for us."
"I remember the lyrics of this song worse than the other song," she admitted. "And we've no harp accompaniment."
"No excuses, girl. Sing!" Liore was getting more obnoxious the more wine he drank.
Nessa stood up and leaned against the balcony wall, trying to draw inspiration from the beautiful night.
"All right, The Age of Oppression." She cleared her throat. "La," she sang. "La, la, la," she tried to find what might be a good starting note. Finally she settled on something that seemed like it might be in the middle of her pathetic range. "The Age of Oppression".
"You said that already," Liore complained.
"Right. La, la, la." She hunted again for the right note and then figured she should probably start. She could have learned all the right lyrics, but she though they rather liked her spontaneous song from the prior night, so she had spent all day making up more spontaneous lyrics.
We drink dry vermouth,
To the... bitter pecan,
For the days of depression are now coming on.
We'll ride out the horses from the stable we own,
With saddle and bit we'll ride every… roan.
All blame on Ulfric, you killed the high king!
Why would you do such an awful thing?
We're the Nords of Skyrim, and we like our mead,
If you interfere with our drinking you'll certainly bleed!
But this land is ours and we'll see it drunk dry,
For the mead is quite good, let no one deny.
A loud snort issued from Liore and Tullius was trying to repress a laugh.
"Gods be praised, child, you are the worst bard that ever was," Liore said, slurping down more wine and nearly choking on it with his laughing.
She eyed Liore who had definitely slowed down on his wine drinking. He had half a glass yet and the mulled wine would be here soon. He had to get it down. She seized on an idea.
"A toast then!" She raised her glass. "To the worst bard in all of Skyrim: me! Bottoms up." She drained the water in her glass and watched as Liore took a healthy swig of wine. Keep going, old man. He still had a good deal of wine left when the warm, spiced wine was brought out a few minutes later, but he was definitely starting to look drunk.
They drank the mulled wine and conversed. Liore kept blinking and his head would jerk from time to time.
"You all right there, Calvus?" Tullius asked. "You can't handle your liquor like you once did, old man. We haven't gotten to the High Rock Whiskey yet."
Shaking his head, Liore grumbled. "I'm not a youngster like Melia here. Can't put it away like I once did, Caius." He squinted at the general, trying to figure out which of the three was the real one. "You can't put it away like you used to either, so don't gloat."
Tullius laughed at his friend and clapped him on the shoulder. "Trust me, I know. That's why I don't even try."
"Maybe I should call it a night," Liore said. He groaned and pushed himself to his feet, staggering. He caught himself on the balcony wall and laughed. "Well… if I can find my way to the door."
No! Nessa didn't want him to leave yet. He needed to have the other packet of power, or he'd just fall asleep and wake up feeling slightly hung-over on the morrow. "You can't go home like that, Caius," she said. "Let me walk you home." Once home with him, she'd give him a glass of water and slip him the second packet of sleeping powder.
"You're a kind-hearted girl, Melia," General Tullius said, "but Caius needn't go home. He's slept off more than one jag here. Your room is always ready, old friend," he said to Liore.
"Thanks, Tully. I think I'll take you up on it tonight." He turned and began to walk toward the door and stumbled, nearly falling.
"Careful!" Nessa warned him, wishing he'd just topple off the balcony and make her job easier. Now, how was she going to finish the job if he was staying here? She'd have to know at least which bedroom he was staying in. "Let me help you to your room."
She rushed to his side and held him up. Tullius came to the other side and between them both they walked him indoors. They went up a flight of stairs and down a long hall with Nessa carefully counting doors as they passed. The fifth door on the left was the one they opened. She and the general helped Liore to the bed. Nessa removed his boots and recoiled from the smell. His feet stunk something horrible and she felt grateful that she hadn't had to sleep with the old toad.
"Thank you, dear Melia," the commander said, his speech heavily slurring. "You're a good girl. Tullius needs someone like you."
"You go to sleep, Commander Liore. You'll be fit as a fiddle tomorrow, I'm sure," she replied. She took his hand and patted it gently. "Sleep well."
Her thoughts were scattered. How could she complete the job now? Break back into the estate and think of something or… what if she didn't need to leave? The thought almost made her shudder. I can stay. She looked at Tullius and took a deep breath, forcing down her revulsion for the man.
"Let's go back out to the balcony," the general said and they walked out together. He handed her a cup of hot mulled wine and she sipped it very slowly. "It's just as well Calvus is abed for the night. You and I have something to discuss, if I recall." His speech was still clipped and military, even when he was wooing his mistress.
His voice, well she remembered it as he condemned Ulfric, the Stormcloaks, and all the others they'd swept up in that ambush. That day, with her right ear pressed against the gore-covered, wood block, the executioner with his axe held above his head and his eyes…they weren't pitiless, they were gleeful, and that was the last thing Nessa thought she would see in this world: a man who truly enjoyed his job and his obvious delight in beheading her. Nessa took care to school her expression.
"Melia?"
"Oh! I'm sorry, Caius. I was a million miles away. Would you repeat what you said?"
Moving closer to her, he put his hand under her chin and directed her eyes into his. "I'm awaiting your answer, Melia, to what we discussed last night."
She knew what she had to say. There was no way to finish this job tonight unless she stayed, but the touch of his fingers on her face made her want to turn and run, instead she smiled sweetly.
"I answer yes, Caius." She swallowed hard, searching for words that were utter lies. "I would be honored to share your life with you here."
He pulled her face to his and their lips touched. It wasn't a terrible kiss, but Nessa's revulsion for the man wouldn't allow her to find anything redeemable about it. His arms wrapped around her and she thought of Arnbjorn and that made it almost bearable. Thank the gods she'd put oil that Cordula had bought her into a tiny bottle in her pocket.
He broke off the kiss to speak. "You'll stay tonight, then," he decided for her. "Tomorrow you can move your things to the little house I bought."
"That sounds perfect," she said, thinking it was actually far less than perfect… but it was possible this might work out.
He kissed her neck softly and nuzzled her ear. "I knew you'd say yes. I had servants getting it ready all day today. Come upstairs." He took her hand and pulled her back into the house.
He led her back the same way they'd gone to put Liore into a guest room. Once again, she counted the doorways carefully noting where his was in relation to the commander's. She'd simply wear him out with sex and while he slept she'd figure out some way to finish off her target.
He pulled her into a room larger than many homes she'd seen. There was an enormous fireplace, huge windows covered with thick, expensive draperies, decorative tapestries, and the bed… the bed was enormous. It looked like you could sleep with your horse in that bed. Nessa couldn't help but gasp at the sight of it.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I've never seen a bed so big."
"I think you should lie in the center of it, with your arms and legs spread. See if you can touch the edges." He began to fumble at the buttons on the back of her dress.
"Hold that thought, lover," she said playfully. "I need to use the chamber pot. Where is it?"
He pointed her toward a door. She kissed him quickly and gave him a smoldering look and then retreated to the little room. She fished the special oil out of her pocket and uncorked the bottle. Apply a generous amount to her fingers, she used it on herself. It certainly felt genuine. He wouldn't be able to tell that her arousal wasn't real.
She rejoined him and he finished unbuttoning her dress. It slid to her feet in a puddle of blue cloth. He unlaced her corset slowly, drawing out the anticipation a little, but it shortly joined the dress on the floor. He made a pleased sounding noise as he saw the filmy underthings she wore underneath. His hands skimmed over them, pressing them against her flesh. The pink of her nipples showed through them. There was just a touch of wickedness to her wearing these silky small clothes. It seemed at odds with her youth and naiveté in a way that was most erotic.
"Take those off," he said. His voice was getting huskier, but he still issuing orders like a general.
Nessa hesitated a moment and then took them off. He was busy shucking his own clothes. He wasn't a bad looking man. If he wasn't the man who had presided over her near-decapitation, she'd have had little difficulty with this, but as it was she was still afraid he'd remember her. She crawled onto the bed, into the very center, and spread out her arms. Her hands missed the edges of the bed by an half an arm length on each side.
The general's mouth quirked up on one side. The girl was certain biddable. He disposed of the last of his clothes and joined her on the bed. Her body was surprisingly athletic for a bard. She was more angular than curvy, despite how she looked in her clothes. No matter, a few months in his care and she'd plump up nicely. He looked forward to their nights together in her little house when he could visit her. He'd train her to take proper care of him. Well, those details could wait… right now he wanted to see what this filly knew about pleasing a man.
She didn't hold back. She took charge early on, caressing him lightly to inflame his desires. She wanted him to work hard for his completion. They switched from one position to another just as he began to sound like he was close. That would back him off from his peak and he'd have to begin building again.
"Yes! Oh, gods. Yes, Caius!" she murmured in his ear. "Faster! Oh please… Harder!" She urged him on like she would have asked Shadowmere to race Arnbjorn. The harder he worked, the sounder he would sleep.
Tullius was sweating like race horse as he thrust into the girl, his breath sounded like the panting of a score of hunting dogs. He wasn't about to stop and change positions again, no matter how she begged. She wrapped her surprisingly strong legs around his waist and her hips met his with each thrust. He finally reached his peak and collapsed onto her.
The sweating, sated general lay with his head against her breasts. If he'd seen her face at that moment he might have seen the icy hatred in her eyes. Instead he felt her fingers weaving tenderly through his sweat-soaked hair until he worked up the energy to roll off her. She slid her body against his and looked into his face, smiling eagerly.
"That was fun, Caius. Let's do it again," she said cheerfully.
Caius laughed and Nessa could hear the exhaustion in it. "No, sweetling. I'm not as young as I once was. Once a night is enough." He kissed her lightly. "Be a good girl and get me a glass of water. There's a robe in the armoire over there. You can slip that on and go to the kitchen. Our… activity left me a bit parched."
A break, at last! "Of course, Caius." She leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead. Then she rummaged through the armoire and found the robe. She picked up her dress and corset from the floor, secretly going through the pocket to get the last packet of sleeping draught, and then laid the clothes carefully over a chair. To him it would look as if she was simply being tidy, but a pinch of the powder in his water would ensure he slept very soundly. The rest she could give to Liore… somehow.
She trotted downstairs to the kitchen and a servant fetched the water. She went upstairs, pausing in a dark corner to mix a bit of the powder into it.
Caius took the glass from her when she reached the bed and gulped it thirstily. "Ah, that's good. Well, let's get some sleep, my girl. Tomorrow morning, we can do this again. He slapped her on the rump as she crawled back into bed.
Nessa giggled, but it sounded entirely wrong to her ears. She laughed because it was expected, not that there was anything that actually amused her. Her sweat slickened skin smelled of him, a sickening, fusty smell. It wasn't the clean, sharp scent of Arnbjorn's sweat. Tullius smelled of stale alcohol, smoke, and garlic. She usually liked the smell of sex, but she desperately wanted to run to a window and let in fresh air. The dampness under her was just another uncomfortable reminder of what had just transpired. She shuddered to think of his seed inside her, perhaps quickening, and longed to drink the tea blend to prevent such that, but it was in her room at the inn.
Still, she played her part, curling up next to the general and shutting her eyes. She didn't dare go to sleep, but she didn't think she was in any danger of that, truthfully. This entire night had been horrid. Making love to a man she hated… feeling his thick, liver lips on her body… pretending to laugh… she couldn't wait to get away from this city… from him.
It wasn't long at all before his breathing settled into a steady rhythm, but she would need to wait longer. She could still hear the staff wandering about mansion. So instead she thought about her life: Arnbjorn and Astrid, actually. She wondered what he would think when she didn't come home tonight. Would he be jealous or had he somehow talked himself out of those feelings he'd seemed to be developing for her? She wanted nothing more than to go back to the inn and bury her face into his chest and try to erase Tullius from her mind and body. As she was reflecting on her situation she realized it might look suspicious if she left town without a word after Liore dies.
Gods, how do I escape this town without seeming guilty? Nessa began to panic. She hadn't thought she might have to spend more than one night with Tullius, but leaving on the same day his best friend died in his house might be suspicious. She could feel her muscles tighten with tension at the thought of having to stay with the man even another night.
I can't do this. Eyes stinging with unshed tears, she began to tremble with emotions she didn't dare unleash. She wiped her eyes and tried to think of something else, anything else.
It seemed to take hours but finally the house was perfectly quiet. She listened to Tullius's steady snoring and edged out of bed. The robe was still where she'd left it so she picked it up and put it on. The remainder of the packet of sleeping powder was where she had stashed it. She picked up the glass the general had used and quietly slipped out of his room.
One…two doors down the hallway on the left was Liore's room. She silently opened the door and let herself in, closing the door behind her. Liore's room smelled like stale alcohol and garlic. The old man was lying on his back, his mouth open, snoring rhythmically. She watched him for a few minutes to convince herself he wouldn't wake.
She gave his shoulder a little shake to awaken him. She could make up a story that Tullius had sent her to him with water to drink. He'd drink the remaining powder and, hopefully, that would end him. But the shake did not arouse the slumbering man. She redoubled her efforts and shook him harder, yet he still snored. Finally she lightly slapped his cheeks. He almost roused, but his eyes slid shut and he was unconscious again a moment later.
Oh gods! Nessa swore at the sleeping man. "Wake up, damn you!" She slapped his cheeks again but he didn't awaken. Panic almost set in. If she couldn't awaken him, how would he drink the sleeping potion necessary to kill him? She couldn't just pour it into his mouth; it'd make a mess and might tip people off that he hadn't died of natural causes. She was about to pinch him viciously but then remembered a bruise would be suspicious. Then she thought she could pour the powder directly into his mouth, perhaps below his tongue. He might end up swallowing it in his sleep.
She got out the packet and worked the man's mouth open. He snorted briefly but didn't awaken. She saw his tongue glistening in his mouth. Reaching in, she raised his tongue with her fingers, making a terrible face of disgust, and she poured the contents in and then let his tongue fall back into place. "Ugh," she said softly, and wiped her fingers on his blankets.
Time seemed to crawl as she waited for the drug to take effect. Eventually she thought, perhaps, his breathing was slowing, but she wasn't sure. She stood up and began to pace back and forth, worrying over how she would get away from Tullius, worry about whether or not this plan would even work. What if she'd slept with Tullius and Liore didn't die? To think she might be stuck in this town having to play the role of Tullius's mistress made her throat thighten. For the first time in a long time, Nessa began to doubt she was cut out to be an assassin.
It seemed like an hour or more had passed and Liore still drew breath. His breathing was shallower, she was certain now, but the man still lived. What if the general awoke and came looking for her? She had to end this. Her eyes alighted on the pillow next to Liore. She picked it up and placed it carefully over his face. This would leave no bruising, no signs of struggle. She held it firmly, hoping to seal his mouth and nose completely. Finally, there was a shuddering tremble that went through the man and he stopped breathing. Not trusting him to be truly dead she held the pillow in place until her arms began to tremble with fatigue. At last she lifted it. There was a bit of drool and some of the white powder had tracked down his chin. She cleaned him up and sloshed a little water into his mouth to flush away any powder that remained.
"Talos, I owe you one," she whispered. Then she realized the deity she should be speaking to was Sithis, but the thought made her shudder. She fed the packet to the embers in his fireplace and plumped the deadly pillow she used to kill him, putting it back in the spot next to the dead man. She cast her eyes around the room and made sure everything looked normal.
"Your gods be with you, Imperial," she said quietly, patting him on the cheek. She crept back to the general's room, her skin crawling as she slipped back into bed with him. Finally allowing herself to close her eyes, she did eventually fall into a light sleep despite her efforts to stay awake the remainder of the night.
~o~o~o~
"Wake up, sweetling." General Tullius leaned over the pretty Nord sleeping next to him. She looked so young and sweet when she was sleeping. Her eyes cracked open and she smiled sweetly at him. He would have made love to her again, but he'd overslept.
"Good morning, Caius," she said shyly, blushing in the morning light. She kissed him gently. "Time to get up or…?" she raised an eyebrow in an unspoken query.
He laughed at her implied suggestion, delighted that she was eager to resume their intimacies. "No time this morning, my poppy. You should go to the inn and gather your things and take them to the house where you'll live. I'll be along as soon as possible after my morning meetings. Perhaps then…."
Nessa's smile grew broader. "Of course!" she chirped, anxious to get away and happy she didn't have to endure him again this morning. She hummed as she got dressed and gave Tullius another kiss.
The general loathed breaking off from the kiss, but he had work to attend to. He smiled at her again. "I'll see you in a few hours."
She left the mansion as quickly as she could. All evidence of sweetness and gaiety fell away as she directed her dragging footsteps back to the inn. When she next saw the general he'd know his friend had passed away in the night, in his sleep. She'd be expected to be a doting, sympathetic mistress, standing by her man while he grieved.
Arnbjorn, she thought. Her heart ached as she trudged into the inn. She flagged down Sorex and ordered a bath, giving him a sovereign to make sure it came promptly. She wanted to scour away all traces of Tullius. If she could shed her skin she would.
Opening the door to her room, she saw a fire was burning and blinked, momentarily surprised. Then she searched the room further and saw why: Arnbjorn was asleep in her bed, or had been, he was awakening now.
"Bit? You're back." Arnbjorn yawned and his nose twitched involuntarily as he smelled another man's scent on Nessa. He smelled sex. The skin on the back of his neck became taut with anger. His instinct urged him to lash out at her, at whoever had had her. A feral growl started in his throat, but he stopped himself. This is what she was sent here to do, he reminded himself.
"He's dead," she said flatly.
Something in her expression alarmed Arnbjorn. He flung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. "What is it?" He crossed the room to her and put out a hand to touch her cheek but she pulled away. "Bit?"
A knock at the door came as she was about to speak. "Hide under the covers," she whispered. "That's my bath."
Arnbjorn dove for the bed drew the blankets over himself. Nessa arranged the wooden screen to block the view of the bed and then let the servant in. They filled her tub, emptying steaming buckets of hot water into it and left.
"You can come out now," she told Arnbjorn. Then she remembered her other need for hot water. She took the small cauldron sitting beside the fireplace and poured some water from the ewer into it. She rummaged through her alchemy ingredients and found Dragon's Tongue. She measured out several large pinches and then considered and added another one just to be certain and threw them into the pot which she hung on the hook over the fire.
He watched her brewing the tea knowing its purpose. "Tullius?"
She stared at the fire and nodded, her eyes unfocused. She shook herself out of her reverie and wordlessly undressed. She left her clothes where they fell on the floor and stepped into the tub, not minding that the water was near scalding. Wishing she had sand instead of soap, she scrubbed her skin obsessively.
Watching her, Arnbjorn began to worry. He'd never seen her acting so withdrawn. He truly began to worry as long red lines began to emerge on her arms as she used her nails to scrub herself.
"Stop!" He knelt beside the tub and caught her hands in his. "Bit… talk to me. What happened?" Whatever poison was working inside her it had to come out or she would destroy herself one way or another. That place she had made reference to, Helgen, that had to be at the center of it.
Shaking her head she stared at the water, still mute.
Frustrated with his inability to get reach her, he shook her hard. "Tell me, Nessa. What happened? Was this something to do with Helgen?"
She finally looked at him, her face pinched. "Yes." She took a deep breath and held it. "Gods!" she hissed, starting to shiver despite the scalding water.
"Tell me, bit," he said more gently. "Let me help you with this."
It seemed to get through to her. She looked at him wondering at his offer of help. She'd never told anyone about Helgen. She was half afraid speaking of it again might bring it all back and this time she might break. There hadn't been anyone she had trusted enough to tell. Not even kind-hearted Rune at the thieves' guild. She hadn't stayed in one place long enough to really make a friend good enough to confide in. Now Arnbjorn was demanding she reveal herself to him.
She closed her eyes a moment, taking a deep breath she told him about Helgen. Everything. How she'd woken up in a cart, hands bound, head aching, only remembering that she had come over the rise of a hill and into the midst of a battle. She'd fought, of course. The enemy was whoever attacked her, and this time it was men and women in Imperial armor. She tried to edge to the outside of the fray to make her escape but someone had flanked her and smacked her on the head with a sword pommel.
"They carted us to Helgen to execute us all, not caring that I'd just blundered into their ambush." Tears started to track down her cheeks; she didn't even know she was crying. "They hated us for being Nords, the Imperials did. Even if I wasn't one of the Stormcloaks on their list they decided I should die anyway."
Arnbjorn listened patiently but when she paused he urged her on. "Go on, bit."
"They called me second," she gasped as the memory overcame her for a moment. "The head from the first was in the crate my head was to fall into. The block was still covered with blood and bits of bone, little splinters from his neck, I suppose. They made kneel and put my ear on that bloody block…." Her voice trailed off.
He put a hand on her shoulder to remind her that she was safe with him.
She turned her face to look at him. Seeing him helped ground her in the present and she gathered her courage to go on. "I looked up at the face of the executioner and realized the last thing I'd ever see was a pair of hateful eyes."
"But it wasn't."
"No." Some of the tension in her face resolved. "There was… a dragon."
Arnbjorn's eyebrows shot up. "A dragon? We'd heard they'd returned but… you saw one?"
Nessa nodded. "He attacked and I got away."
"How does Tullius figure in this?" Arnbjorn asked.
The tension returned to her face. "He was there. He saw me. He pronounced our death sentences and was going to watch each and every one of us be beheaded." She hit the water with her fist causing a little splash. "He didn't give a damn whether we were innocent or guilty. We were Nords. Stormcloaks or not, that was enough to convict us." She shuddered again. "I was so afraid he'd recognize me, that he'd haul me off to the block again. I hate him."
He watched her as she shivered in the hot water wondering how to draw the poison out of this wound. He picked up the soap and began to gently wash her. "He didn't recognize you. Back then, you were a dirty, ragged Nord, a Stormcloak to him. He saw only what he wanted to see." She watched his face as if desperately wanting to believe him.
"I don't mind dying just… not like that." Her hand crept up to her throat unconsciously. She would never forget the man whose blood had soaked the block. "To have to see him again, be plunged back into that nightmare." Her stomach heaved at the thought of Tullius touching her.
"Well, you're done with that. Do you want to leave now?" he asked.
Sobs suddenly burst out of her, all the pent up emotions of the last few days. "I can't," she said, her voice strangling within her. "I'm his mistress. If I leave now, the day after his friend dies, it'll seem suspicious."
He wrapped and arm around her shoulder to comfort her, not minding that it was soaking his shirt. "Shush, now. Let me handle this. I promise you won't have to spend another night with the man." Damn Astrid. It was a foolish idea to try to make this girl into some sort of courtesan; she wasn't cut out for it. He was going to say his piece about it when he returned. "Tell me about your cover story."
Nessa rubbed the tears out of her eyes and told him all the details she'd told Tullius. "What will you do?"
"Don't worry about it, bit. I've got it covered." He ignored her dubious look and went back to bathing her. He even unbraided her hair and washed her hair. "You need to put what happened in Helgen behind you, bit. I don't know whether I believe the gods really meddle in the lives of men, but it seems that someone was looking out for you that day. Now, if that's the case, then there must be a reason why."
She turned to look at him, her eyes still looking wounded. "It was just luck."
"No, that wasn't just luck. Dragons don't come back from the dead and just happen to interrupt a beheading by plain old luck, morsel. That sounds like it might be destiny, or something."
"If it was, then it was Ulfric the dragon rescued, not me. Why would anyone want me? I'm just… I'm no one important."
He tugged on a wet lock of hair to chide her. "Not yet. Well, to some of us you are."
She looked into his face her eyes wide. He thinks I'm important?
"But the way destiny works, bit, you start off as nothing and become something. At least it happens like that in all the stories. Like the story of Aevar Stone-Singer. You've heard that story?"
"Yes." In the orphanage, Grelod never read to them, but she'd heard it being told by the other children.
"He was nothing but look at all he did. Dunk your head." He waited for her to put her head under the water and he combed his finger through her hair to get rid of the soap. "But he saved the Skaal. So you see, all heroes start out as nothing."
It touched her that he'd bathe her and tell her stupid things just to cheer her up. He even said she was important to him. She caught his hand with hers and looked him directly in the eyes. "Thank you, Arnbjorn. I… am very glad you came here with me."
He looked flustered for a moment and then got up. "Where's your towel?"
"On my bed," she said.
He brought it back to the tub and wrapped it around her as she got up. "Feel better?"
She nodded. Yes, she felt better. Arnbjorn's silly tale of her being rescued for a reason cheered her up. Tullius hadn't recognized her and he wouldn't. She trusted he'd get out of here today. Drying herself off in the towel, she told Arnbjorn where the little house was that she was moving into.
"When is Tullius coming by?" he asked.
"A couple hours he said."
"All right. Don't bother unpacking, bit. You won't be there that long."
She smiled at him as he left her. Helgen might always haunt her, but at least she knew that if she should die someone might care this time. Strangely, that made it easier to bear.
~o~o~o~
Delaying as long as possible, she finally toted her bags over to Tullius's little house where he planned to keep her. She left her bags packed on the bed and inspected the house. It was a nice little house, a little bigger than Breezehome, the house she had been offered in Whiterun. She noted the bed nearly took up the entire room in the bedroom. Tullius must have a thing for big beds.
Maybe he thinks it makes him look bigger.
Nessa snorted loudly at her thought. She wandered around the house and inspected the larder. It was well stocked. There was a bookshelf with books. She pulled one out and began to read. It was an expurgated account of Barenziah's life. She laughed again. If you took out all the sex and thievery, Barenziah wasn't quite so interesting to read about.
She was nearly nodding off in the chair when the door to the little house opened.
"Melia?" General Tullius called her name from the house's little living room.
"Be right down," she called. She put the book away and came down the stairs to see him sitting on a chair waiting for her.
"Sit here, my dear," he said to her. "I have some unfortunate news."
"Oh?" She sat down next to him and took his hand in hers. "What is it, Caius?"
"Calvus has died. He didn't get up this morning and when I went to check on him, I found him."
Nessa schooled her face to a look of shock and sadness. "No! He seemed all right last night, didn't he? Maybe he was a bit wobbly when he went to bed, but I thought it was the drink." She drew a deep breath and continued. "I just… it seems so impossible, Caius."
The general patted her hand to comfort her. "I know, it is a shock, but he wasn't a young man by any means. The Divines have him now."
"You two were close friends?" she said. "I'm so sorry, Caius."
"Thank you, my dear. Well, what's done is done." He stood up and looked around the house. "How do you like the house?"
"It's nice. Thank you, Caius. It'll be better than living in the student quarters in the Bard's college."
Caius was about to respond when there was a sharp knock on the door. "Were you expecting someone?"
She shook her head and went to the door to answer it. She swung open the door to see Arnbjorn standing there.
"Melia, your father sent me. He's been injured and is failing fast. He needs you home. I've been sent me to escort you."
"Thorek! What's happened?" she cried out, feigning alarm.
"One of the cross beams have gone out askew on the treadle. Crushed his legs. The healers of Kynareth have done all they can for him," Arnbjorn said.
Caius looked at Nessa, frowning. "This day has brought too much unwelcome news," he said.
Nessa only allowed herself a very fleeting, secret smile at Arnbjorn, and then she turned to Caius with a grief-stricken expression. "Oh, my dear Caius, I… I don't know what to do! My father… he needs me, but," she hesitated and looked at him sadly, "I think you do too."
Caius looked at the man who came to collect his mistress. "Would you leave us for a while? Come back later tonight and we'll have an answer ready for you."
Arnbjorn's suppressed an angry growl. There would be no later. He intended to get Nessa free from the general now. He turned to Nessa and frowned. "Your father depends on you, Melia. This can't wait. As it is, he may be gone before you return. We must leave immediately. You little sister needs you too."
Nessa could barely contain her elation. Arnbjorn's story was compelling. Only the most heartless, scheming bitch would deny her father's dying wishes. She turned to Tullius, blinking her eyes rapidly. "Oh! He's right. I can't possibly stay with… with… My father… He can't be dying!"
Tullius pulled her to him and she buried her face against his neck. "Shush, now. The man is right. You need to go back to Whiterun. Just as soon as things are… settled, send word, my sweet. I will send an escort to bring you back to Solitude."
"Forget about me, my sweet general," she said, mentally gagging on the endearment. "I will have to stay in Whiterun and look after my father's business and take care of my little sister, my father too, should he live." Tullius looked rather sad and if she hadn't hated him so intensely she might have felt bad.
"I will come visit you, my dear. I'm sure we'll be coming to see Jarl Balgruuf sooner or later."
"Perhaps it is best if we move on, Caius. Find someone new and forget about me." She kissed him gently on the cheek. "I won't forget you." She turned to Arnbjorn. "Thorek, please collect my things from the bedroom. I hadn't even had a chance to unpack."
The general laid a sweet, lengthy kiss on the girl he had counted a mistress, if only for a short time. When the escort emerged from her rooms with her bags he gruffly cleared his throat and broke up the tender moment. It was clear to Tullius that the father's man didn't approve of what he was seeing. Fuck that, he thought, I'm the gods damned leader of the Imperial army. He swept Melia back into his arms and kissed her so deeply it nearly bordered on obscene.
This time the Nord threw open the door and yanked Melia from his grasp. "We're leaving now!" He pushed the girl toward the door.
"Wait!" the general called out. He fumbled at his belt a moment and loosened a heavy purse. "Take this, Melia. Hire the wagon and stay at the best accommodations. Get yourself some new clothes when you get home."
Nessa eyed the purse and flushed red. Does he think I'm a prostitute? She shook her head. "No, Caius, I can't."
Arnbjorn's arm darted out and snatched the purse from the general's hand. "She thanks you, she means." He glared at Nessa and herded her out the door, striding out himself and slamming the door behind him.
The sound reverberated through the empty house. Tullius walked to a large oak rocking chair and sat down slowly. He mourned the loss of his closest friend and a girl he thought he might have come to love someday.
~o~o~o~
Well outside of Solitude, Arnbjorn whistled for Shadowmere. He came trotting up to them, looking as hale as ever. What the horse had done while they'd been parted for a week, she couldn't imagine. Maybe he dissolved into an inky tarn and only emerged when called. It was a handy ability, she had to admit. It cut down on the costs of keeping a stable for him.
"You shouldn't have taken the money," Nessa said, feeling as if her sexual favors had been purchased. "I'm no whore."
Fastening their bags on Shadowmere, Arnbjorn snorted with amusement. "Ultimately you bedded him for your job. If that isn't the definition…"
Nessa hauled her arm back and punched him in the arm.
"Ow!" he grabbed his throbbing arm. She looked about to hit him again so he grabbed her arms and pinned them against the horse. "Hey, come on now."
"I am not a whore!" she fumed at him. "I am an assassin. I did what I had to do for my…," her voice broke and tears rolled down her cheeks, "… my job." Her throat grew tight and she could barely speak. "I'm an assassin, not a whore," she repeated.
Damn, Astrid. Damn me for saying that. Arnbjorn let go of her and gathered her close to him. He stroked her hair and tried to quiet her. "Shush, bit. It's done. You're no whore. I was just teasing. You never have to seduce someone again if you don't want. Not for a contract."
There was truth in Arnbjorn's words and she knew it. She'd prostituted herself just as much as if she'd sold it on the street corner for two septims. "I c…c… can't. Not again." Arnbjorn's words sunk in. He'd ensure she wouldn't have to do this again. He'd stand up to Astrid if he had to. For her. She stopped crying and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Thanks, Arnbjorn."
He carefully wiped the tears off her face, dragging a thumb slowly across her cheeks. Her eyes were as blue as the sky in Solitude. He held her gaze a long moment as her expression softened. Then he slowly moved closer, watching those blue eyes widen in surprise. He kissed her softly.
Sorry. The kiss was an apology for running out on her and abandoning her that night. Sorry for saying she was Astrid's girl, not his. Sorry for letting something as simple as his happiness spoil something as good as what they'd shared in Solitude. He didn't know if a kiss could express everything he couldn't say, but he tried to say it with his lips, tongue, and his hands cupping her face.
"I won't let you down again, bit," he said after they broke apart. There was confusion and disbelief in her eyes. He didn't blame her. But he had the entire trip back to the Sanctuary to convince her.
While he finished preparing Shadowmere, he looked up from his task from time to time to see her looking at him. He held her eyes and every look was another apology.
Finally he boosted her up onto Shadowmere and mounted behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist.
"Let's go home."
With that Shadowmere started out toward Falkreath and the Sanctuary. Solitude quickly faded away in the distance.
~o~o~o~
Notes: Holy crap… that was a lot of writing right there! I thought I'd never finish this chapter even though I was very dedicated and wrote every night. I was just determined to get them out of Solitude. Phew!
My heartfelt thanks to: Rayven Feather, A Fan, Cheesehead8707, .x, Biff, EllaBea, Zevgirl, Blue Dartwing, PredQueen, TheOtherLaChance, Heiwako, and Skiota for reviewing! Thanks much. It is Christmas when a review hits the inbox. It truly makes my day. Thanks to others for favoriting and following too.
I strayed rather far from my original (mental) outline of the story by going so in-depth on these contracts, but I think I'm glad I did it even if my fingers are about to fall off from typing so much.
Hopefully the next update won't take so long!
Thanks always to Zevgirl and Biff McLaughlin who always have good ideas for me on Google+.
See you all again soon.