Not even Thaer's incessant blathering could keep Brynjolf's mind engaged. The carriage driver had a lot of stories to tell about his adventures driving between the cities of Skyrim, and when he finished them, he'd start over and tell them again. That is when Brynjolf would look up into the blessedly clear sky and be reminded of a pair of sky-colored eyes.
He'd read that note so many times he had it memorized, but he retrieved it from his pocket and read it again.
Dear Brynjolf,
I thought I should leave thief-style and sneak away into the shadows where we live. When you wake up, tell yourself I was a dream. Tell yourself none of this happened. I know I can never leave the Dark Brotherhood. The Night Mother has claimed me. If I am to be less of a child, I must accept my fate. Entertaining impossible fantasies of a different life than the one I ended up with isn't helpful.
I am grateful for all you did for me and how much you risked. I know I can never truly repay you, but I hope the coin at least reimburses you for what you spent.
I will never forget this time we've spent together, the feeling of your hands on my body. Don't even get me started on your kisses or how much I love staring into your e—
There's a dark blot where something wet smudged the ink.
You can see why I have to sneak away. I don't think I could have done it with your eyes looking into mine. It can't be any other way and I'm sure you realize that too.
It is probably just as well that you say nothing to anyone about me being alive. Better to have my friends think I'm dead than how things really ended up.
As you always said, and such good advice it is: Eyes open and walk with the shadows.
Yours,
Nessa
Face turned up to the sky, he imagined her looking back at him and a one sided conversation played out in his head. You give up too easy, lass, and the shadows aren't going to be cover enough. You might have slipped away for now, but this isn't over. You are right about one thing, Ness, you owe me and there's only one way to repay that debt.
That might do it. Maybe he could shame her into trying. She was a good hearted girl, his words would make her feel guilty and she'd try to put things to right. He'd bolster her confidence and she'd try to throw off these shackles, real or imagined. He leaned back in the carriage, folding his arms behind his head and smiled confidently into the blue sky.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I snuck into the temple of Dibella in Markarth?" the carriage driver asked, not even waiting for a reply before launching into another retelling of his bawdy tale.
"In the last half hour, no," Brynjolf muttered.
~o~o~o
Lovely, lovely, gossiping baby vampire! Cicero hid his malevolent grin behind a fake yawn. She'd told the crabby old mage, and the delightful Gabrielle. Even Veezara—who normally stayed aloof from gossip—had heard enough to make him question Cicero. Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes! He tittered quietly into his napkin at dinner and Astrid's head turned abruptly to look at him. Oh no, that was much more a glare than a look. Hee, hee! She must've heard little gusts of gossip, floating on the air, petting the ears of even the most willfully ignorant.
Every day the Pretender seemed a little more unsettled, a little more suspicious, and when Nessa came to dinner her smile became brittle, but she always invited the cherub to sit with her and her wolf-man husband.
Poor cherub. It was clear that whatever might have existed between the three of them was well over, and the Listener had been discarded like a wilted bouquet. She always looked uncomfortable sitting there, near her two former lovers, but since she'd returned from Sithis' business she had been different. There was still an air of sadness about her, but she had changed. She was more accepting, even resigned to her change in status.
He'd been worried about her. She hadn't wanted to be Listener. Not wanted to be Listener? Even now that sounded impossible, not to mention heretical. It had made him angry. Rightfully so! He would have given everything, everything, to hear his dear matron's voice and she didn't want to talk to sweet Cicero. Argh! Where was the justice in that? Dear, sweet Mother, why didn't you just speak to me?
She didn't! the growling, part of his mind said. She spoke to the cherub. Get over it.
Oh, yes. Sweet Cicero would serve his Listener too. He would make very certain she didn't run away. Mother wouldn't like that. He invented tales of Listeners who had tried to flee their obligations and the horrific fates they met in this life and then in the Void. He worked to undermine Astrid's influence. His brothers and sisters were reminded, whenever the Pretender was out of earshot, how the guild should be run. He regaled them with stories of past glory when there was a Listener, and four Speakers, the five digits of the Black Hand, the five tenets.
Festus Krex was an avid supporter, he was certain of that. Babette, he wasn't sure of. The little girl had ties to Astrid since they were both vampires. Gabriella supported the Night Mother too. Although her loyalties seemed divided, Cicero counted her on his side. The Redguard, Nazir, was loyal only to Astrid. Cicero mentally scratched that one off his list with a sneer. Arnbjorn, forget about him. The dog would follow his wife. That just left Veezara who certainly honored the traditions, but also respected the existing hierarchy. However, he looked troubled by the news that Nessa was the new Listener. If Veezara was with him, that left the guild evenly divided.
The one person he really didn't know how to count was the Listener herself. Ah well, it hardly mattered. All he had to do was engineer the ouster of the Pretender and Nessa would do what she had been appointed to do.
He dug into his venison roast with relish and played the clown for Babette's amusement and Nazir's irritation.
~o~o~o~
Leaving on the pretext of hunting, Arnbjorn took on his wolf form and followed Nessa's trail. She had gone out to collect alchemy ingredients an hour earlier. Astrid wouldn't follow him out in the middle of the day. His wife could tolerate the sun, but it was highly uncomfortable to her. He picked up the girl's trail and followed it into the forest for quite a ways until he finally saw her. She was sitting on a fallen tree and staring at the herbs she had collected, looking as sad as he'd ever seen her.
Stepping out from the underbrush, he stood a moment as she turned to look at him. This reminded him of the time, months earlier, she had begged him to tear her throat out, but this time she didn't look ready to die. She looked startled for only a moment, reaching toward a dagger, but then she realized it was him.
"Hi, Arnbjorn." She shifted over on the log, making room for him to sit down.
He shifted back to human and sat next to her. She didn't protest his nudity this time. She'd gotten over that, apparently. "Hey, bit."
She gave him a half-hearted smile. "What brings you out here, today?"
He looked out, into the forest. "You, actually. I wanted to know what happened in Solitude." He turned to her suddenly, his glance piercing her. "The real story."
She turned at the waist to look him in the eyes. "Why should you even care, woof? I did the job Astrid sent me on."
He got up, a little growl in his throat, and began to pace. "I didn't stop caring for you, just because Astrid feels…" he broke off suddenly. "I thought we were still friends, no matter what."
Dropping her eyes, Nessa studied her hands. "We are. I'm sorry. It's still a little raw. I haven't forgotten anything. I don't feel any different either, but I know where things stand and I've accepted that."
He scrutinized her closely. "Good. Just so you know nothing has changed for me. If we can't be together, we can be friends. All right?"
She nodded and said nothing more.
"I saw the hole in your armor. What happened?"
"I almost died."
"Didn't Veezara…" he started to say.
"Veezara was there? I didn't see him. I hurt my ankle, panicked, and got lost. A guard shot me with an arrow."
"Hircine's hind foot, bit," he looked at her with concern. "How'd you escape?"
"Someone was looking out for me. I ran into a friend, almost literally. I didn't know it until much later though." She smiled at the memory of waking up in that cesspit under Solitude and seeing Brynjolf's face.
"Mara's tits, morsel. You were lucky. What angel rescued you?"
"A friend from the thieves' guild. He recruited me, trained me, even gave me my first set of lock picks." Her voice trailed off and a little smile set up on her face, but it was followed by a sigh.
That was a lot to take in. The smile, the sigh, they all spoke volumes that her words hadn't. He grunted quietly, feeling a stab of jealousy that surprised him, but it surprised him even more that she had returned.
"Why did you come back, bit? Don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry you did, for my own selfish reasons, but it is plain you care for this thief."
Nessa looked at him, her brows drawn down with confusion. "Do I even have a choice in the matter? The Night Mother selected me, Arnbjorn. How do I walk away from that and not suffer the consequences? Cicero has warned me I can't dodge this."
"Stupid clown, he wouldn't tell you the truth, if he even knows it," he growled.
"She can get in my head. If I defy her she'll drive me as mad as Cicero, at the very least." Looking at Arnbjorn, she gripped his wrist. "What about… him?"
"Him?"
Leaning closer, Nessa whispered. "Sithis."
"Ah, well… as near as I can tell he doesn't talk to anyone."
She didn't look reassured. "I can't leave."
He didn't like all the talk of gods and their ilk; it always reminded him that Hircine would probably claim him when he died. Not that it was all that bad. He liked hunting. It seemed as good a way to spend his afterlife, but who decides what to do in life based on where they're going to spend eternity?
It was the Night Mother's presence that was messing everything up, Arnbjorn realized. Before she'd come to their Sanctuary, everything had been fine. Now she'd appointed a Listener and nothing would be the same. He'd heard the rumors too. The clown had told someone and now he often heard the word 'listener' dying on someone's lips when he entered a room. Astrid had noticed too. She'd maintained her cool so far and hadn't given anything away, but it was just a matter of time. This whole issue could tear the Dark Brotherhood apart, and he was caught in the middle, caring for both the women at the center of the maelstrom.
It suddenly hit him with a stunning clarity that these two opposing forces would eventually be forced to resolve this and, as it seemed to him now, the only resolution would a grim one.
He had a sudden vision again of meeting Nessa that night in the forest when she'd begged him to kill her, only this time he saw her lying under him, her throat ripped out, dying. Maybe that would have been a mercy. Would Nessa even put up a fight when Astrid finally decided to put an end to this challenge to her authority? Or would she sit stoically, like she had that night in the forest, and beg for death?
There had to be a way out of this. He understood that Nessa believed the Night Mother would drive her insane if she fled. She would rather die than lose her mind, of course. He would feel the same way.
"Bit, I don't know how to fix this, but I won't stop trying. There must be something." He gently grasped her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Turning to him, she smiled, her eyes locked to his. He was reminded of all those times in Solitude, lost in their sky blue depths as they made love.
Gods help him. If it ever came down to defending his wife, or the girl, he knew his duty, but it would kill him.
~o~o~o~
"Milk Lis." Babette handed Nessa a bottle and turned back to the alchemy table.
"The spider?" There was an edge of panic to Nessa's voice. "You want me to milk a giant spider? It doesn't even have teats!"
Babette couldn't help herself, she burst out in laughter. "Not milk, silly. Poison! Just hold out the dead rabbit. Lis will come over. You just collect the stuff that leaks out while she's eating. She's a messy eater."
Nessa's stomach wretched at the thought. "Gods, Babette. Are you sure? I've seen those bones down there. Is that the last person who tried that?"
"I do it all the time. Lis is a pussy-cat, she won't attack you if you give her a rabbit and scratch her forehead. Those bones are from some guy that snuck into the Sanctuary a few months before you joined us. We threw him to Lis." She giggled at the memory.
"He screamed for hours while Lis played with him. Finally she ate his tongue and he could only make this noise like… 'Hur, hur, hur'. Then she ate half his jaw and it sounded like…'Unh, unh, unh'. It took her three days before she finally killed him. It was interesting, and a little noisy."
"I'm taking my dagger, just in case." The story had turned her stomach. She went to her room and strapped her daggers to her back and returned to Babette.
"Get on. Or are you too scared?"
More like disgusted, Nessa thought. She'd killed enough frostbite spiders, but she hated them. She glowered at Babette, walked to the edge of the pit, trying to swagger confidently, and then jumped down, ignoring the ladder. She didn't want to turn her back on the spider.
Lis rustled up to her, her legs sounding like dry leaves in the wind. She seemed to taste the air and know that Nessa was coming with a treat, but she waited patiently for it.
Gulping, Nessa took a step forward and placed the rabbit on the ground. Just as Babette had said, the spider turned her full attention to it.
"Go on and pet her!" Babette goaded her.
Ignoring every instinct that instructed her to flee, she reach out a hand and scratched her behind one of her too-many eyes. She was surprised to hear a light, purring sound come from the spider.
"Gods, Babette! It is an abomination, it purrs like a kitten."
Babette laughed shrilly. "See! I told you she's a pussy-cat. Now, hold the container under her jaws and collect that goop."
Gathering her nerve, and trying to quiet the heaving of her insides, she slowly moved the container under the frost spider's jaws as it chewed the rabbit, and watched the green goo drip into the jar.
"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever witnessed," Nessa swore. She crouched next to Lis, holding stock still and praying that the spider wouldn't confuse her with the rabbit. The ichor dripped steadily into the jar at a good rate, but it seemed an eternity.
"That's good, Nessa. You can come up now," the little vampire said.
Slowly she pulled the jar out from under the spider and looked around for a moment, only briefly daring to take her eyes off the purring horror. There was something pale sticking up in the midst of the intruder's bones that caught her eye. Not really wanting to stay in the pit any longer than she needed to, she edged over to the pile of bones and toed the pale object. It flipped out of the center of the bones and she saw it was a folded piece of parchment. Holding the jar of spider slime carefully, she snatched up the paper and stuck it in her pocket.
With careful haste, still trying to keep an eye on Lis, she handed the jar up from the pit to Babette's outstretched hands. Then, with one final look back, she climbed out of the pit as fast as she could.
Free of the disgustingly arachnid, she began to shake with nerves. "Never again, Babette, I'd rather face a dozen of those things with a sword than have to do that ever again!"
"Aw! Poor Lis," Babette crooned at the spider. "Don't listen to the mean old Listener, sweetheart." Babette clapped her hand over her mouth and giggled. "Oops."
Coming from one horror and then confronting another, in the form of an accidental title, made her mouth drop open.
She knows!
Logically, it followed, if Babette knows, everyone knows. So, the news was out. "Cicero?" Nessa asked.
Dimples formed in her cheeks and her eyes glinted merrily. "Of course, Nessy! You didn't imagine you could keep that a secret, did you?"
"I suppose everyone knows now."
"Well, of course. News that big is made to be shared. It has quite caught everyone's imagination that the Unholy Matron chooses to speak through our newest, sweetest recruit."
"Not quite everyone's," Nessa muttered.
"I suppose you're right about that." She sat down in a chair and swung her feet. "What're you going to do?"
Nessa looked at her thoughtfully. "Nothing. I don't need to do anything but listen to the Night Mother's commands and relay them to Astrid. Nothing needs to change other than we don't have to search so hard for contracts."
Raising an eyebrow, Babette hummed softly. "That would be the sensible thing, but not everyone feels that way. Some want to restore the Listener as the leader of the guild and return to the old ways. Others… Well, some of us are happy with Astrid leading things."
"As am I."
The little vampire took her measure for a long moment then nodded. "I believe you. So, do you feel honored to have been chosen?"
An expression of fury crossed her face before she was able to subdue it. "No. This isn't what I wanted or sought. I'm sick of being used as a pawn in someone else's game." Such a candid expression of anger and frustration was so unusual for Nessa, it shocked even her.
Babette's eyes opened wide and her mouth fell open. For one moment she looked shocked, then amused. "Perhaps it isn't such a bad thing after all." She wiped her hands clean on a towel and grinned at Nessa. "You have changed, my dear." She handed the jar of spider goop to Nessa. "Now, why don't you make some poison out of this stuff."
She flashed an impish smile at Nessa and left.
Nessa looked at the jar of frostbit spider venom and shivered with disgust again, but set about bottling it up. She wondered what Babette had meant by her last comment. It was disturbing to find that everyone now knew about her being the Listener. As she finished bottling the last of the poison, she decided it might be best if she got her next assignment as soon as possible and get out of the Sanctuary. If people were talking about her being the Listener, she didn't want to hear it. Certainly, her presence would only inflame things further.
She cleaned up and prepared to go see Astrid, but she remembered the piece of parchment she had found in the bones. She took it out and read it:
My scribing tools are lost, and I've no time for a lengthy entry, anyway. It's taken weeks, but I've finally found it! The Sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood! One of them, anyway. In Skyrim, under a forest road.
I've been watching them, the assassins. Their comings and goings. The fools have no idea they're being observed. My next goal is to somehow make it past the sinister black door, into the Sanctuary itself.
I don't have time to even think about the dangers. The truth must be known!
Someone had learned how to get past the door? What if he had told someone else? Now that she thought about it, she wondered if they ever changed the passphrase for the door. Surely a former assassin could sell the information, or it could be tortured from someone. Well, either way, Astrid should see this note.
Wending her way up the long hallway, she paused as Astrid came into view. The sight was a stunning one. The guild master was leaning over her desk, her finger tracing a line along a map. The way the lamplight reflected off her lovely pale skin made Nessa catch her breath. The echoes of her enthrallment tugged at her, making her heart ache once more at their estrangement.
"Hello, Nessa," Astrid said, without turning around.
She had thought she was undetected, but Astrid had an uncanny ability to sense her. She'd told her once that her blood called to her. Perhaps it still did. Maybe an enthrallment worked both way and Astrid felt as she did.
"Astrid, I thought you should see this." Dismissing her longings she went to stand at Astrid's side and showed her the paper. "I found this in Lis's pit, among the bones."
She read it and turned to Nessa with an amused expression. "He certainly paid for his curiosity. It was impossible to sleep a wink for three days."
"What if he managed to tell someone else the password to the door?" she asked. "Shouldn't it be changed?"
A look of irritation crossed Astrid's face. "There's no reason to believe he got a message out before we found him. Besides, there's the little matter of no one knows how to change the password. That information has been lost with the eradication of the other Sanctuaries. You don't need to concern yourself with it… Listener."
The message was quite clear. Nessa shouldn't have made the suggestion; Astrid was in charge of their security. The next thing she did surprised her. Or rather, what she didn't do. She didn't apologize.
"I'm ready to take another contract," she found herself saying. "If one is available."
Apparently Astrid was taken by surprise too. Her eyebrow rose, and then settled. A pleasant smile returned to her lips and she nodded. "I do. I was going to let you rest for a week or so, I know your last job must have been taxing. There's no need to hurry off."
"I'm ready."
"All right. Gabriella and I have been planning this. She'll give you the details."
Nessa nodded and turned away, the back of her neck prickling, certain that Astrid was watching her leave and wondering if she felt as she did, like that bond between them was still there, but gossamer thin and stretched taut.
She found Gabriella in the workshop, above Lis's pit. "Astrid said you would have the details of my next contract." She wasted no time at getting down to business.
"Of course, Nessa. The Emperor will surely be arriving in Skyrim and his security service, the Penitus Oculatus, will need to begin preparations immediately. Security is being handled by a Commander Maro. Astrid and I have devised a plan to break the man, and in doing so, cripple the Emperor's protection."
Nodding, Nessa settled into a chair and listened closely.
"You are to slay the commander's son, Gaius Maro, and once he is dead, plant false evidence on his body implicating him in a plot to kill the Emperor. He is set to leave the Penitus Oculatus outpost at Dragon Bridge, and inspect the security of each city in Skyrim. Go there. Observe Gaius Maro's departure, and follow him. Waylay him in one of the cities, and send his soul to Sithis. Once he is dead, plant this letter on his body, and let fate take care of the rest."
Nessa took the letter from Gabriella and inspected it. She nodded her understanding to the Dunmer assassin.
"Oh, one more thing. To earn your bonus, do not kill Gaius Maro in Dragon Bridge, or on the road. Kill him in one of the other major cities he'll be visiting. There, the body will be discovered quickly, as will the letter implicating Gauis Maro in the plot to assassinate the Emperor."
"Of course," Nessa said, nodding.
Gabriella, all business a moment ago, smiled kindly at Nessa. "May Sithis go with you, Listener," she spoke quietly.
Listener again! "Thank you, Gabriella."
The next morning she rose before dawn and whistled for Shadowmere. They were off to Dragon Bridge just as the sun crested the mountains.
~o~o~o~
The barrage of questions pelted him as he walked into the Cistern.
"Were you in Solitude when the Emperor's cousin was murdered at her wedding?"
"Was the Dark Brotherhood behind it? That's what everyone is saying."
"How were the pickings, lad?"
That last was from the ever business-minded Delvin.
"Whoa!" Brynjolf held up a hand, his eyes twinkling with good humor. "Give me a few to settle in and have a chat with Delvin. I'll stand you lads a round later tonight. Now, go make us some money."
"Come on, Bryn. First round's on me." Delvin clapped him on the back and guided him to the quietest, most private corner of the Ragged Flagon.
"Thanks, old man, but I've got it." Setting the heavy bag of coin on the table, he smiled at his old friend.
Delvin whistled appreciatively. "That's some haul, Brynjolf. I bet there's some telling involved in how you got burdened with that much gold."
The red-haired thief's eyebrow rose and he leaned in conspiratorially. "There is, but I need your discretion."
"You have it, lad. To the grave and beyond," Delvin swore. "Upon the honor of the Lady of Shadows."
Brynjolf trusted Delvin even without the fancy swearing. He was one of the few truly tight-lipped people Brynjolf had ever known.
"I saw the assassination in Solitude. And yes, the pickings were good."
"Hold on lad, this sounds like thirsty work. Let's have some proper lubrication." Delvin signaled to the barkeeper, Vekel. "Bring us the usual, and keep them coming, we might be here a while."
Vekel didn't have far to go, and he returned in short order with their mead.
"Keep the change." Brynjolf slipped him a little extra, something to help make up for all the times he'd been short.
"Now," Delvin continued as Vekel left, "I want to hear all about that, of course. They're saying it was an Argonian that did it. I remember a young lizard-man from my time there, Zeevara, or some such. They train some of them to be assassins from the moment they hatch. Formidable."
Brynjolf shook his head, frowning. "Wasn't the lizard, he was just a decoy. I saw the true assassin." He took a long pull on his bottle of mead and leaned back in the chair, reliving it all. "She was in a balcony off the Temple of the Divines, well-shaded. It was only just pure luck I saw her."
"Her? Was it Astrid herself? Attractive Nord, blond hair?" Delvin prompted.
"Not that I could see. Picture this, Del. This figure, clad in black armor, rose up from the balcony, her face and head obscured by a cowl and mask. I couldn't tell it was a man or woman at that point, just a slender figure with a wicked looking bow."
Delvin watched his friend retelling the story, intrigued at the detail he was providing.
"She waited until the Emperor's cousin was in the midst of some long-winded speech about peace and what-not when she let loose her arrow. It flew across the courtyard and buried itself in the woman's throat, killing her instantly."
"A good kill is a thing of beauty." Delvin raised his bottle to salute the unknown assassin.
Brynjolf wondered about his friend. There might still be a bit of assassin left in him, even after all these years. "That's when this Argonian popped up and drew the guards to him, most of them anyway. Her guild brother, I assume.
"I figured I had a score to settle with the Brotherhood, so I went after the real assassin. She jumped off the wall and twisted her ankle. I nearly had her at that point, but she got away from me."
Delvin's eyes got big. "You've got a death wish, lad. I told you not to go messing with them."
Shrugging he continued his story. "A few guards and myself were running after her. I knew she was headed for the stairs that go below the city, but they were blocked by guards. When she changed course, one of them shot her right in the back." He shook his head at the memory. "By all rights, it should've taken her down, but she kept going somehow. She panicked, though, and got lost. I managed to catch up to her, grabbed the cowl off her head and tripped her in the process. That's how I found out it was a woman."
"Go on, lad. Please, just don't tell me you killed her. Last thing we need is a war with the Brotherhood."
Brynjolf smiled at his friend and looked him square in the eye, eager to see his reaction. "I saved her life, old man." He paused for effect. "It was Nessa."
In the middle of a deep draught of mead, Delvin choked and sputtered. "Gods, lad. You're fooling with me now. Our Nessa?"
"The very one. Apparently you were lied to about her death."
Shaking his head, Delvin looked stunned. "Our sweet Nessa, an assassin? I can't say I'm surprised Astrid lied. She's a formidable woman. She'll do whatever is expedient."
"I hid her in the old thieves' guild under Solitude. Damn near lost her to blood loss, then the lung fever. I found Enthir. You remember him? He treated her and she was up in no time."
Delvin shook his head, still looking stunned. "I can't get over it, lad. Is she happy?"
Brynjolf's face sobered as he paused to reflect on her story. "No. It's pretty clear she isn't."
"Poor girl. I had a few of those narrow escapes myself. I doubt I'd be here today if I'd stayed with it. Damn dangerous work. Pay's good though."
A long silence fell between the men as Brynjolf collected his thoughts. There weren't many secrets between the two friends, but there was one he didn't care to share. The feelings he had for Nessa had grown from seeing her as a promising, if unlikely looking, protégé, to mourning her with an intensity that had surprised him. Delvin wouldn't understand that this wasn't just some temporary infatuation.
"I tried to get her to come back, but she said she couldn't. They've got some sort of hold over her."
Delvin looked puzzled for a moment. "They don't like losing good assassins. I can imagine that Nessa would be talented. She's about as unlikely as they come. That sweet face could lull anyone into a fatal complacency. Lure them into bed, and send them to Sithis just as they're finding bliss between her…"
Byrnjolf leaned forward suddenly, his green eyes flashing angrily. "She wouldn't," he seethed. "She doesn't have that sort of artifice."
The sudden outburst sent Delvin's brows up his forehead. "I'm getting' old, Brynjolf. Forgive me for not seeing what's right in front of me." He shook his head at his friend. "You've got it bad, my boy."
A scowl stole over Brynjolf's face as he settled back into his chair.
"You're getting so senile you're imagining things. Look, I just want to know if she could get free of the Brotherhood. I figured if anyone would know it would be you."
Chuckling, the older thief folded his hands around his mug and inspected his friend carefully.
"Assassins come and go. Sometimes they leave for good, sometimes they go broke and come back. Some guild masters are more reasonable than others. Astrid might be as ruthless as they come, but she's not entirely unreasonable. If they're working on some big job she needs Nessa for, she'll make her finish it out."
Byrnjolf paused, wondering how his next question would play out. This was the part of Nessa's story he'd doubted the most. Oh, no doubt she believed it, but he couldn't believe that she was some sort of conduit for the Night Mother's wishes. It just seemed so bloody unlikely.
Delvin was draining the last of his bottle in a steady, deep draught.
"What if she were the Listener?" Brynjolf asked.
For the second time that night Delvin choked on his drink. This time he turned red in the face and coughed for a full minute until Brynjolf got up and pounded him on the back.
"You okay, Del? Don't go dying on me. I can't handle Mercer by myself."
Composing himself, Delvin held up a hand to reassure Brynjolf he wasn't in danger of expiring. "You need to stop doing that. Wait until after I've swallowed before you drop a bomb like that on me."
"So there's something to this Listener thing?"
"Lad," Delvin stopped, clearing his throat of phlegm from the coughing fit, "The Listener is the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. They're not likely to just let someone walk away from that. It's supposed to be an honor."
"She says Astrid is none too happy about it."
Pursing his lips, Delvin nodded. "I can imagine that. She's kept that Sanctuary running despite everything for a long time, without any interference from the Night Mother or the traditionalists in the Brotherhood." He swirled the dregs of his mead pensively. "I wouldn't want to be in her position."
"Whose? Nessa's or Astrid's?"
"Either one, but I can't imagine Astrid is going to give over to a girl as green as Nessa with grace. Maybe they can work it out, though." He shrugged. "Not that this is any of our affair, Byrn. I think we'd best keep well away from it and not choose sides."
"That's what you told me last time, and I did. It never set well with me. I feel some responsibility for what happened to her. If I'd done more, she wouldn't have been abducted and she wouldn't be the Listener."
"There's not a damn thing we can do here, lad. You mess in this and if the Brotherhood doesn't kill you, Mercer will."
"I'll take that under advisement," Brynjolf said, pensively, knowing full well that he wouldn't. Not this time.
~o~o~o~
It was easy to infiltrate the Penitus Oculatus headquarters in Dragon Bridge. The special security force didn't find anything suspicious about the pretty blonde Nord who flirted her way into the building and flounced out indignantly after one agent got a little too adventurous with his hands.
Gaius Maro had already left, she learned, but she found a copy of the schedule sitting on a desk. It was whisked away and stuck under her corset.
Walking out of town to a secluded copse, she leaned against Shadowmere as she read his itinerary.
"Whiterun?" she asked Shadowmere. He ignored her. "No, too many people know me there. What about Solitude?" She shuddered at the thought of going back there yet again. "Right, scratch Solitude. Um… Riften?" That one made her stop and think for a moment. No, too much likelihood she'd run into someone other than just Brynjolf and she'd have to explain why she wasn't dead.
"Windhelm?"
Shadowmere looked at her with nothing of interest in his expression.
"Why not? I've never been there. Ulfric is there. We nearly lost our heads together. Do you suppose he remembers me? Hm, why would an Imperial feel safe in Windhelm anyway? Maybe that'd be ideal. Certainly if he were treating with the enemy it'd be in that city."
Shadowmere nudged her with his nose as if to hurry her to a decision.
"All right, Windhelm it is."
It was a long journey and Nessa didn't dare try to sneak into the Palace of the Kings. She waited, clad in her assassin leathers, around a secluded corner and took him as he walked past. She moved so quickly, covering his mouth with the crook of her elbow and driving her dagger deep into his vitals, that he never made a noise. The training she'd done with Veezara had paid off. She silently thanked his patient instruction as she planted the incriminating note on his corpse.
She was back in the shadows and holding her breath as a guard rounded a corner and found his body. Slipping out of town, dressed in a simple frock and holding a basket filled with flowers, was easy. No one thought to question the pretty Nord girl with the sweet smile.
~o~o~o~
Notes: Many thanks for the reviews! Fluttermoth, Biff McLaughlin, Zevgirl, Inuyashagirl2015, Heiwako, eep246, x_janel_x, TS Hills, TheOtherLachance.
Heiwako… your mind is in the gutter, I approve.
The muse is strong right now and we're getting to the thick of the story. I can always use more cheerleaders!
BTW: If any of you love the Skyrim music like I do, you might want to look up Jeremy Soule's new symphony, "The Northerner". I'm not exactly sure when it will be released, but there was a Kickstarter campaign for it, which I contributed to. The guy is an awesome composer!
Next update will be after I finish the next chapter in "Post Blight Management for Dummies".
Thanks for reading!