Notes: Thanks to Sokat, Zevgirl, Biff McLaughlin, Myrielle, and eep246. I loved your reviews.
Myrielle, always love your perspective. Yes, Astrid is a bad-ass! I think she'd leave Brynjolf a pale husk on the floor if they tangled. So sorry you're not feeling well. I hope you're better now.
~o~o~o~
As Nessa returned to her room to get ready for her next assignment, Arnbjorn stalked after Astrid. She could hear his footsteps behind her, soft as they always were. Things had improved between them over the last few weeks, to the point that she felt ready to share her bed with him again. It was time to move on. Time to mend their marriage and restore the Sanctuary to where it was before the Night Mother and her Keeper interfered.
No, she thought, it was time to make it even better. With the deal she'd made Commander Maro, exchanging his son's murderer, Nessa, and giving her promise to leave the emperor alone, the Imperials would leave them alone. This would be time of rebuilding and growing; knitting together a team of assassins into the formidable society they'd been centuries past. With agents in every hold, who needed a Listener?
When she reached her office she wheeled to confront her husband, a pleasant smile on her lips. "Oh good, Arn, I was hoping to talk to you in private." Her voice was low and inviting. "It's been too long, husband."
She was surprised by the intensity in his eyes.
"You've lost your mind," he growled, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into her office, then kicked the door shut. "Sending our least experienced assassin to kill the emperor?"
She'd misread him. This was unexpected and very unwanted. Was he challenging her authority?
"Unpaw me, Arn." She laughed lazily, with just a touch of menace. He was her husband but that didn't give him the freedom to question her authority. "Don't get so worked up. Everything is going to work out fine. She's perfect for the job."
His nostril's flared with anger. "Who is going to believe that she is the Gourmet? Send Festus, Gabriella, Nazir or me. Even Veezara would be more believable than her."
"Gabriella gave her a charm to make her look older, sweetheart. Don't you trust me?"
His stare said everything. "Not where she's concerned, no. This thing with the Night Mother, I know you haven't let it go. I don't know what you've planned, but I doubt it involves killing the emperor. You'd never send a new assassin."
Her face grew cold and she narrowed her eyes. "Are you challenging my leadership, husband? Do I need remind you of the vows you spoke when we wed, and the support you pledged when I killed Sigrund and took over?"
She could sense him fighting the wolf. Stepping back, she prepared for the attack she was certain would come. "When haven't I done what needed to be done for the good of the guild, Arn?" She opened her arms in exasperation but showed her fangs.
For a long minute they stood eye-to-eye, each sizing the other up. The moment when it seemed they'd fight to the death, she took a step forward and pushed against his will. It wasn't easy with werewolves; they resisted most forms of vampire magic, and Arnbjorn was no weakling, but she could feel his will weaken. His eyes shifted. She had him.
He turned to leave without another word.
"Wait," she said, her voice still cold even to her own ears.
He turned back to her. "What?"
"I want your pledge again. Now." She stood, hands on hips, her eyes implacable.
"What the Oblivion? I've pledged to you. You've won. Let it go," he growled.
"No. Your pledge now or leave."
He hesitated a moment, weighing his options. She truly didn't know what he would do, walk up the hallway and out the stone door, to disappear from her life forever, or would his native loyalty subdue his pride?
It cost him, she could see that, but he dropped to his knee and recited his pledge to her, and to the Dark Brotherhood, just as he had when she had first taken over as leader. Loyal as a dog, she'd once said to Babette, and it was still true.
She listened implacably, as if evaluating the words for truth and judging him on the intensity of his loyalty. As the last words were spoken, she was overcome with emotion. Tears sprung to her eyes. She reached down to him, pulling him up, and embracing him.
"Gods, I love you, my wolf. Let's put this behind us now. Please." She buried her face into his chest and the tears came for a while longer. "You and me, Arnbjorn. We will rebuild the Brotherhood. Trust me, please. I need you to do this." She looked up at him, a few tears still streaking down her face.
"Yes, my love," he said. He was subdued now and she could hear the defeat in his voice.
"Move back into our room, okay?" This was the closest they'd ever come to either violence or splitting up. Would the renewed pledge keep him bound to her after Nessa was dead?
He nodded.
~o~o~o~
"I don't know if you can hear me, Night Mother, but I thought I would check to see if you might have some sort of advice for me." Nessa stood alone and shifted awkwardly in front of the Night Mother's sarcophagus, addressing her quietly. "I know I haven't been able to take care of you like Cicero would have. They've sent me out on a lot of assignments and I just haven't been here."
She sighed and shifted uncomfortably, then knelt. Should she open the container? Maybe she should have picked some flowers or brought some candles.
Bowing her head she tried to empty her mind of everything except… What do you concentrate on when addressing the Unholy Matron? Killing things, probably. She reviewed a few of her murders and tried not to feel remorse.
"Hear me, oh mother," she whispered.
Nothing. There wasn't even the hint of a whisper and certainly nothing like the sepulcher voice she'd first heard.
Was this the sort of thing that had driven Cicero mad?
She grimace and stood, dusting off her knees. "Well, that was a waste of time," she muttered. Going back to her room, she put the last change of clothes into her bag and fastened it shut.
Tonight she would leave for Solitude. Should she stop in Falkreath to see Brynjolf, or just leave a note with the innkeeper? He'd been so disappointed when she left before. He deserved better than that. She'd go to him and say "goodbye". Tell him to go back to Riften. Tell him to forget her.
There was a lead brick in her gut that had landed there the moment Astrid told her that she was going to murder the emperor. Nothing about this felt right although Astrid had reassured her that, as the Listener, it was her duty and an honor. It would be simple, right? Just slip this bottle of poison into the emperor's soup and then leave. Astrid had given her directions on her escape in case things went wrong. That was more than she'd gotten for Vittoria Vici's wedding, but she'd had time to make her own plans.
The other assassins seemed a bit envious and she noticed more than a few covert scowls at the news. Everyone, except Babette, seemed to think they'd be a more believable famous chef than Nessa. She didn't disagree.
There was time for a nap. But she'd get started on her journey tonight. Make a quick stop in Falkreath and be in Solitude in time for the scheduled feast in honor of the emperor. Closing her eyes, she seemed to fall into a deep sleep almost immediately.
The sensation of falling ended in near darkness, in a grove, the very same one where she recalled meeting the Night Mother. Well, nearly the same. It seemed darker and safer somehow. The shadows felt oddly warm and comforting. There was the Night Mother sitting on a bench, dressed in a bold gown that plunged in a sharp V down her chest, leaving a good deal of her breasts exposed.
She flushed at the sight, admiring the gown and the woman who wore it. The Night Mother certainly looked good for having been dead for so long. Realizing she had been staring, Nessa looked up from the woman's chest and noticed the dark birds sitting on her shoulders.
Dark birds? She mused. I don't remember birds the last time I was here. And when had the Night Mother had taken up dressing so seductively? Truthfully, she didn't remember what the spirit had worn last time.
"Mother, I am honored," she said and kneeled on the grass near the stone bench. "How may I serve you?"
"Rise, child of shadow. Your wish to serve me is noted, but I need you to leave the Sanctuary of assassins and return to Riften. Accompany Brynjolf…"
A ragged gray form streaked out of the dark and knocked the Night Mother off her bench. "Imposter! Usurper! Sithis take you, you turbid whore. The girl is mine."
The crows rose into the air, cawing loudly as the two forms crashed to the ground. The light was so feeble, Nessa couldn't see the details, but it seemed as if they were rolling around on the ground, throwing punches, ripping at one another, and generally trying to kill each other. Who were they and what, if anything, should she do?
It's just a dream, she reminded herself. One of those weird dreams she'd been having since the Night Mother had spoken to her, and this one was the weirdest yet. She closed her eyes, willing herself to awaken, but she could still hear the curses and shouts of the two battling women.
Finally there was a splash and Nessa opened her eyes to see what had happened. The tattered gray form of a woman was submerged in water, up to her waist, struggling to hold something down in the water. A hand and forearm flailed up from the water and made it obvious she was drowning the other woman.
She tried to move but found her feet seemed to be glued down. She couldn't take a step. It was a relief really. If these Daedra were at war, she didn't wish to be in the middle of it.
At long last, the struggle seemed to end. The woman dragged herself and came back to the stone bench. Nessa found her feet could move again. This woman, not nearly as seductive and elegant as the lady with the crows, did look familiar to her.
"Night Mother?" Nessa said.
"My child. I'm sorry you had to witness that. Nocturnal believes she has laid claim to you and was trying to trick you into leaving my service. Imagine that! She tried to imprison me in my own realm. As if." She leaned over and spat something onto the ground. "You're mine, Nessa. You need to remember that. Whatever Daedra you served before you joined us don't matter. You're an assassin."
Nessa stared blankly at her, considering her words. Had she ever served other Daedra? Definitely not knowingly. It was all very confusing, but it seemed that there was some unseen struggle going on in their world. Did this mean she had some choice in the matter?
"Now awaken, my child, and do our Lord's bidding," the bedraggled Night Mother said, her voice sounding taut with tension as she eyed the pond suspicious. "That murky twat isn't likely to stay away long. You must go now."
She wanted to ask the Night Mother for her blessing, or get advice, for this job. "But Night Mother…," she began to say.
She fell once again, this time into the dim light of her bedroom.
"Damn it all!" She slugged her pillow. The one time she actually wanted to spend some time in the twilight realm, she was thrown out.
Well, there was nothing for it. Surely, if there was a problem, Night Mother would warn her, wouldn't she?
She finished packing and left the Sanctuary on Shadowmere's back.
~o~o~o~
Notes: I decided to try to post more frequent updates and just make them smaller. I usually have a complete segment that I want to do and it is so large it takes forever. So, this way I get more updates out more quickly.
I completely made up the hinted-at story of how Astrid became guild leader. I couldn't find any references to anything, so I took liberties. Anyway, if there is something I missed, forgive me.
I do love the favorites, follows, and especially those yummy reviews that inspire me. Thanks for reading!