Sorry about how long it took to write this. Things have been crazy having half my house under construction. Then when you don't write for a while, it gets hard getting back to it. Thanks to all those you dropped me a note after the last chapter. It is fuel for the muse!
Thanks to: SarahMayy, Jacklez, MichelS, InsidiousAgent, MichelS, zevgirl, Biff McLaughlin, Orthrus of Erytheia, xBungeeGumx, Tule91, NekoMara, Nightlain, Myrielle, Dawalkindude, eep246! Appreciated all the comments, as always!
Erk! Sorry about all the errors if you read the earlier version. Somehow I missed them despite all the re-readings.
~o~o~o~
The smell of smoke infiltrated Night Mother's room and irritated Arnbjorn's sensitive nose. He stood in front of the stained glass window pondering what lay behind it. Funny how no one really cared about it before or even wondered why there was such a window in a cave. If there was another way out, it was behind this window. The portrait of Sithis glowed, so there must be a light source. Then there was a crash from beyond the room, toward the great hall. The barrier was falling. There was no more time to think. He grabbed a desk near the window and threw it through the sanguineous representation of Sithis. It revealed a small cave with a pool, entirely illuminated by glowing mushrooms. He couldn't smell any fresh air source and saw no exit, but a dim glow from the depths of the tarn roused his curiosity. It seemed odd to put a window in a cave, even if it was a tribute to the god they served. Could there be a way out through the water? There was no time now to explore. He had to return to Astrid.
Hurrying back out to the great room he pulled his new axe free of the training dummy where he had left it and whirled about just in time to shear the shoulder and arm off an Imperial soldier trying to slip by the remaining barricade. The soldier's terrified screams were followed by shouting from up the hallway. There was far too much barricade remaining for them to slip past safely.
"There might be a way out," he said quietly to Astrid. "In the Night Mother's room, behind the stained glass window."
She nodded curtly. "All right, let's fall back to that room."
She had no sooner said the words than the thunder began again, this time louder than before. They all dashed backwards, trying to get plenty of room between them and the barricade. It wasn't going to hold. Astrid and Festus ran to the forge, he ran toward the alchemy area, Veezara toward the kitchen, and Nazir, he couldn't see. Babette and Gabrille retreated back toward Lis's pit.
There were three massive explosions and the barricade completely fell apart. Parts of the former furnishings of the Sanctuary were now oil-soaked flaming shrapnel, exploding into the common room and spreading the flames. The assassins were scattered now. Rounding them up for a retreat would be unlikely.
"Go on," he urged Astrid. "Get them out. I'll hold them off."
Astrid paused, her eyes meeting his. The pain in her expression was plain and the shake of her head barely perceptible. "The captain goes down with her ship, my wolf. You take them."
This was ridiculous. If neither of them went, they'd all die. "Wait here for me. I'll be back."
"No! Get out," she barked. She flashed him a quick smile and kissed him bruisingly hard. "Sithis go with you, Arn."
He growled but turned to obey her command. "Everyone with me. Now!" He barked the order. "The way out may lie in the Night Mother's chamber." His words were cut short as the Imperials surged into the room, the front rank holding large shields to protect those in back.
"Go!" Astrid yelled, but no one budged.
A large fireball launched from a snickering Festus broke up the ranks of the Imperials, at least for a moment, and then they rushed in. Suddenly any hope of an orderly retreat was gone. They were all fighting for their lives and the onslaught was pushing them back and separating them even further.
~o~o~o~
The Imperial soldiers were falling and couldn't figure out why. Babette stifled a giggle as the group of five became four, and those four saw number five's boots protruding from under a bed. They pulled him out and he was dead and ashen; drained of blood, though they didn't know that.
"It's Sithis!" One of them said, looking at his brother Imperials, terror written plainly on his face. "He is striking us dead."
"Bollocks!" The leader said. "There's an assassin here somewhere. Find him!"
And that was how Four died. He ventured a little too close to Babette's hiding spot. She rippled out of invisibility and stabbed him. She would've drained him too, but she just couldn't drink another drop of blood. Full up to the top. She had gorged on Imperials. Her cheeks were positively pink with all the blood.
The poisoned blade worked quickly though and he fell, but he made a sound as he did.
Dammit!
Then One, Two, and Three saw her. She hastily dropped the knife on the corpse beside her. Her eyes filled with tears. There was only one way out, she thought. Let's hope it works.
"I want my mommy!" she sobbed, rubbing her eyes with her fists in her best impersonation of a terrified child.
One soldier moved toward her uncertainly. The other two reached out and grabbed him. "We don't hurt children," one said. Another crouched down to her level and looked at her closely.
She hid her fangs behind her closed lips and eked out more tears. "Where's my mommy?" she asked.
"Damn assassins, raising their kids up this way? They deserve to die."
"Shush. Not in front of her, you moron." The nice Imperial wiped away a tear crawling down her face. "You go hide, little girl. When this is all over we'll find you. You hear me?"
Babette nodded and smile tearfully, carefully keeping her fangs hidden.
"All right then. Go run and hide!"
She turned and ran, like a child, not a vampire. The smoke was getting thicker and the great hall was practically empty now. The fight had scattered all over the Sanctuary. It was every one for themselves. She'd done what she could. Time to go find her mommy for real. She ran down the hall into the Night Mother's room and through the broken window Arnbjorn had found. If there was any way out, it was through this pool. She dove in and swam to the bottom. There! A tunnel behind a boulder. You'd never see it from the top. She swam through the tunnel, glad she didn't have to breathe, and when it opened into another pool, she swam up and poked her head out. It was another cave, but there was no smoke here.
~o~o~o~
Festus was ready as the barricade fell, but he hadn't anticipated the shielded charge. So fireballs hit shields and precious little else. The ice spells made the ground slippery, but not enough so to break up the formation. He was guzzling a mana potion when the Imperials charged him. A shield flattened him to the ground and an Imperial stood over him, sword pointing down into his unprotected chest.
"Sithis will devour you all!" he swore. As last words go, it wasn't quite as noteworthy as he had hoped. He'd probably wake up in the Void and think of a dozen things he wished he'd said instead. "And your pestilential children too!" he added. That was better.
"Make an example of him," the leader growled and stalked away. "Take him outside and let the archers have some fun."
Hands reached down and grabbed his robe, hauling him to his feet. "You'll never take me alive, Imperials!" he cackled. A spell began forming around his hands. Darkness, mottled with red cracks started to form a ball. He wasn't exactly sure what spell this was, it just came from somewhere. Perhaps a present from his lord?
It exploded before anyone could react. He gloried in the vortex that formed around him, sucking in the life forces of everything around him. He saw soul after soul swirling into the spell he had created and each Imperial touching him dropping dead in turn. Finally he felt the tug on his own soul. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming. Don't rush me," he said sourly. Those, in fact, were his last words.
When more Imperials came they saw a half dozen of their comrades lying dead with the old man in the middle.
"Take his body up. We can still make an example out of him," their leader said.
~o~o~o~
Shadowmere seemed to know what was at stake and he refused to slow, even as they crashed into a group of Imperials outside the Sanctuary. Nessa rolled off his back as he reared, landing on her feet. He lashed out with his hooves, striking one twice in the head. She rolled, dodging a hail of arrows, and took cover behind a boulder, poking her head out to return fire with her own bow. Fortunately she was a much better shot than they were. Every time she fired she took one down.
When the last of them was dead, she paused for a moment and took a look around. The peaceful grove had been trampled by boots. Lots of boots. Gods only knew if anyone inside was yet alive. She was just about to slink past the broken door when she caught sight of some red and black material. It was stuck to the tree with arrows.
Her eyes refused to resolve what she was looking at. It wasn't just material. It was a mage's robe with the Brotherhood's signature handprint. She took a step closer and forced herself to look. Talos… that robe wasn't empty. Festus's lifeless body had been pegged to the tree with arrows. She was gripped with sorrow.
"We're too late." It came out as a sob. She felt the same kind of grief she'd experienced on the road. It started to take hold of her, threatening to disable her and bring her to her knees again. But Shadowmere was having none of it. He butted her hard with his head and snorted angrily.
She looked at him in surprise and realized he was communicating with her as plainly as if he'd just yelled at her and told her to get a grip on herself and get in there. Maybe they weren't too late after all.
"You and me need to have a talk real soon, Shadowmere," Nessa said, shaking her head, and wondering at the horse, but she went to the black door and slipped carefully inside and began padding her way down the corridor. There were two Imperials not that far down the hallway chatting as if they were gossiping over tea.
"Which one was the rat?"
"Dunno. One of these corpses. Does it matter?"
Corpses! Was she too late then? Was everyone dead? She crouched in the shadows and carefully nocked an arrow, taking careful aim of the bobbing Adam's apple in one of the Imperial's throat. She let it fly and it hit. He fell with barely a noise. The other Imperial stunned looked around in confusion.
"Is someone there?" he said.
"Your death!" Nessa hissed as she loosed the next arrow. It took him in the throat as well. He went down looking even more confused.
She could smell smoke and, as she went further down the hallway, it grew stronger. When she emerged into the great hall where they'd held so many guild meetings and Arnbjorn was always working on his next weapon. Now though she couldn't recognize anything. There was fire everywhere and the smoke was thick. She ran to the little pool in the great hall, dampened her kerchief, and tied it around her mouth and nose. It didn't help her vision, but at least she could breathe a bit easier.
What next? There was a commotion nearby, she could hear it and see the glint of red flame on metals and armor. She pressed through the thick smoke, moving carefully and silently. There were two figures surrounded by Imperials, fighting back to back and losing badly. She pressed closer and struck at one Imperial, daggers flashing across his neck. His fall and choking gurgle turned several of them to her and took their attention away from the assassins.
"Thank you, sister."
She recognized the polite sibilant speech of Veezara and when the smoke parted she recognized Gabriella fighting next to him. She was wounded and exhausted, barely managing to parry incoming attacks. With a trio of Imperials not interested in Gabriella, she retreated and hoped the two assassins could manage the ones she hadn't drawn off.
There was no way she could fight three Imperials in close combat. She fell back, her daggers ready, hoping with each backwards step that she wouldn't trip over something or that they wouldn't charge her. Sooner or later they'd do something and she'd be dead. But this wasn't the first time she'd faced three armed men coming at her. In fact, less than a day ago in Solitude she faced this exact situation.
It had to happen again and she wasn't exactly certain how to do it. It certainly took fear and anger. She had plenty of fear right now.
One lashed out, testing her defenses with a slash at her arm. She barely blocked it and then another stabbed at her chest. She blocked it. Well—enough of it. It almost penetrated her leather armor but didn't hurt her. Then the first one slashed again and this time he connected. A burning ribbon seared across her forearm. Once again a surge of despair arose. It was hopeless. She might as well give up, stand here and let them hack her to ribbons.
Then it happened again. Something refused to let her give up. It rose as anger. Strength and confidence welled up from some place inside her. A foreign little nugget of resilience grew and refused to let her quit. It didn't exactly seem like a part of her. Not really. There wasn't time to puzzle it out now, but even as another Imperial got through her guard and cut her forearm, it formed into a hardened core and power surged through her center, spilling into her blood. Her lungs expanded, sucking in the smoky air past the damp kerchief.
"Fus!"
The shout caught the three Imperials by surprise and threw them back into the others surrounding Veezara and Gabriella.
Veezara took the opportunity she'd created and wielded his weapons with precision and accuracy. He cut down two. Gabriella was not so lucky. She used the last of her energy to drive her blade into an Imperial just as he lunged for her. They skewered each other and she sank slowly to the ground, but flashed a weak smile at Nessa. "I knew it wasn't you," she whispered. "Avenge me, sister." That was the last she said. She lay on the ground, still breathing but it wouldn't be long until she stopped.
"Gabriella, hang on!" Nessa said. "I'll get a potion." But the words were meaningless. There were still Imperials struggling to their feet. She and Veezara fought them together, but by the time they'd dispatched them, Gabriella had stopped breathing.
She knelt beside the dark elf and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I'm so sorry. I should've gotten here soon."
Veezara crouched down beside her and gently closed the assassin's eyes. "No, sister. This is not your fault." He straightened and held out a hand to Nessa. "There is a traitor here. Whoever it is, they are to blame. Not you."
Then he did something she had never seen. He got angry.
"And if I ever find out who it is, I will send them to Sithis myself." He hissed out the word Sithis and bared his sharp teeth.
She wanted to tell him, but it was more important to find any other survivors. "Is anyone else alive?" she asked.
"Perhaps. Arnbjorn found a possible exit through the Night Mother's room. Maybe if we make our way there we can find others. But I think I saw Nazir being pushed back toward the kitchen."
If things hadn't been so grim, Nessa might have joked about how Nazir would defend the kitchen. He did seem to have a love of cooking, and spent most of his time there. But right now, with the deaths of Gabriella and Festus, it seemed like nothing would ever make her laugh again. She nodded to Veezara and they carefully made their way to the kitchen, skirting around fires, slain Imperials, and still trying to move quietly yet quickly.
Nazir was there, standing over the body of one dead Imperial and facing another. He was coughing, and his shoulders drooped from fatigue. Veezara leapt down from above and skewered the invader. "Good to see you yet live, brother," the Argonian said.
"Thanks. I'm glad to see you both." But the look he gave Nessa was wary.
"It was a trap. The emperor and everything. Someone set us up," she said, doubting he'd believe her.
"Considering most of us are dead, I figured as much. And no, I don't think it was you. I doubt you'd be back here saving my ass if you did. Who did though?"
Nessa took a deep breath and even with the kerchief in place she choked on the smoke. Rather than trying to voice her suspicions, she shook her head while coughing.
"Well, let's get out of here before we get roasted alive," Nazir said. "Arnbjorn said something about the Night Mother's room." He turned and ran down the hallway to the assassin's quarters and that is when the Night Mother's raspy whispering began.
"Come to me, my Listener. Hurry!"
In the past, the Night Mother's voice had been a dry whisper. What you might imagine a corpse would sound like if it could speak. But this time her voice was loud and impatient. There was a quality to it that made her want to clasp her hands to her ears.
"Did you hear that?" she called after Veezara.
"Hear what, my sister?" he replied.
Of course he didn't, why would he? "It doesn't matter. But we should hurry, I think." The hoarse rasping grated her nerves. Then the Night Mother's voice turned to piercing shrieks. They drowned out everything else. Nessa broke into a run, passing Veezara and Nazir. She wasn't concerned about getting the drop on any of the invaders now she just wanted the sound in her ears to stop.
"Listener! My Listener! Stop them!" the voice screeched.
As she rounded the corner into the Night Mother's shrine, the scene was utter chaos. Arnbjorn was there, in wolf form, surrounded by at least three Imperials and they seemed to be taking pleasure in taunting him, each taking a turn jabbing at him with swords. Another pair of Imperials had opened the Night Mother's sarcophagus and had pulled her out. She was on fire, her well-oiled corpse burning like a torch.
Nessa paused, looking between Arnbjorn and the Night Mother. Even though the shrill howling Night Mother's voice crescendoed drowning out the sounds of battle, and the pleas for help turned to curses. Regardless, she ignored the two Imperials desecrating the corpse and came to Arnbjorn's aid.
"LISTENER!"
The voice nearly cleaved her mind. It felt like an embalmer's tool scraping inside her skull. Sometimes you just react. With the voice clamoring in her head she drew one of the soldiers away from Arnbjorn. That gave him all the time he needed to leap at another Imperial, clamping his powerful jaws on his throat. But that attack left him exposed to the third who lunged and skewered Arnbjorn in wolf form. His sword slipped into the wolf's midsection and he dropped to the ground.
"No!" she screamed and was nearly impaled by the Imperial she fought. Instead she managed a counterattack and thrust her dagger under his chin. He dropped and she bounded over him to stab the Imperial fighting Arnbjorn. Her daggers crossed his throat, arms wrapping around him from behind then pulling away as the twin blades bit deeply into his throat.
Mindless of anything going on behind, she rolled the body of the dying Imperial off Arnbjorn. He was alive still, but changing to human. His dog-like whimper turned into a human groan of agony as he struggled to sit up. That was when she saw the arrow completely through one arm and a dagger buried in his gut.
"Gods no!" Nessa whispered. "A potion. I need a healing potion." She looked around, panic in her eyes. "Nazir, help!" she shouted, but he was fighting Imperials. Veezara wasn't even in the room.
She made to rise, to ransack the room if necessary to find potions. To kill every Imperial remaining and take their potions.
"No." Arnbjorn's hand latched onto her arm. "You're…you're free now. Let it go, bit."
"What?" Tears began to run down her face, falling onto his. "You can't just…"
"You're free. Look."
He pointed and she turned to follow his finger. Somehow in all that confusion and chaos she hadn't even seen or noticed that the shrilling screaming had stopped. The Night Mother's corpse was gone, completely burned. Even the bones. Being so soaked and steeped in oil, the Night Mother had become the ultimate torch. A smoking pile of ash was all that was left and the spreading flames were now consuming a straw mattress.
"Free of me. Of…" he coughed weakly and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his mouth.
"No, Arnbjorn. I don't want that," she whispered, clasping his hand in her own.
"…of Astrid. Of this all." He gave one last shuddering sigh and then his entire body relaxed and the life fled from his eyes.
It was strange, but off in the distance, even here in this cave, Nessa could hear wolves howling very faintly. Wolves? Or was Hercine coming to claim his now?
"No!" Nessa howled her grief and anger. The room shook with her thu'um. Undeveloped though it was, the power of her dragon blood gave life to raw emotion. It tore from her throat and rocked the room, knocking down a support beam and spreading the flames that had burnt the Night Mother. She shook Arnbjorn by the shoulders as if she could somehow awaken him. Realizing she couldn't, she buried her face in his chest and cried. Cried for everything they'd had together, unmindful of the spreading flames or Nazir's battle, which he was losing. There was only loss and nothing more.
"Nessa!" Nazir shouted at her. "A little help here?"
His words barely penetrated her sorrow. She bent forward, meaning to place a gentle kiss on Arnbjorn's forehead, but at the last second she shifted and kissed his mouth. Her eyes closed as his facial hair tickled against her skin, remembering how many times in the past she'd felt that tickling. How he'd been the first man to really make love to her, but only after taunting her, teasing her, making her want him.
"I'm gonna die over here!" Nazir shouted. "Come on, new girl!"
She took one last look at him wishing she could burn his image into her memory forever but knowing that it would fade one day. She leapt to her feet, running to Nazir, barely reaching him in time to block an attack that would've made it past his flagging defense. She counterattacked with a viciousness she couldn't ever remember feeling before.
Imperials! It was always Imperials. In that moment she hated the invading army more than anything she could ever remember hating. There were only two left, but Nazir was choking on smoke and his energy flagging. Still, with her there beside him, he rallied and they dispatched the pair quickly.
Holding his side, he wheezed with exhaustion, coughing. "We've gotta get out of here. We're going to burn up. Look through that shattered window, is there a way out?"
She turned back to look at Arnbjorn, not wanting to leave him there to burn.
"New girl," Nazir said it as stingingly as he could, just like when she'd first arrived, "There isn't a thing you can do for him. But you sure as Oblivion can help me get out of here." He took a stumbling step toward the cave beyond the broken window and nearly fell.
It worked, she was jarred out of her grief enough to make her way to him and help him walk to the edge of the pool. As she grasped him with one arm around his waist for support, she noticed his tunic was wet and a dark stain was spreading.
"Don't die, dammit Nazir," she said. "Not you too."
"I won't, but you're going to have to try to find a way out through that pool. Please tell me you can swim."
She nodded and threw off her weapons, boots and pants, everything but her tunic. "I'll be right back," she assured him and dove into the water. The pool was fairly deep but lit by glowing mushroom. The water was silent and black wherever the mushrooms were absent. It was peaceful. She could imagine just staying here forever, until the pressure in her lungs reminded her that this wasn't a place she could hide from her grief. She swam past the boulder and found a passage, thankfully short, and followed it as it spilled into another pool. A quick look up and she was assured there was air above her.
She pushed off the bottom and rose quickly. The air was good, very good, but she only took a moment more to breathe and turned around to return.
"It's a way out?" Nazir asked eagerly.
"It is," she said. "Can you make it?"
"I can, or I'll die trying. You'd better swim ahead of me, just in case I get stuck in a tunnel or something." He was already shucking his clothes and weapons, not bothering to keep a stitch on. She didn't blame him. The added weight of clothing just made the swimming harder.
Taking one last big gulp of air, she dove in one more time and led the way to the short tunnel. She could feel him behind her. When she reached the tunnel she turned to look, he was right on her heels, so she pushed off the boulder and swam through, and then waited for him at the other end.
As he emerged from the tunnel, he was losing his air. His eyes rolled wildly and he seemed disoriented. She didn't have much in reserve either, but she wrapped her arms around his chest and pushed off from the bottom of the pool, hoping they wouldn't both drown. Her eyes were fixed on the pale light above her. Even though he struggled against her, he was growing weaker.
Finally her head broke the top and she lifted his face out of the water, swimming weakly toward the edge of the second pool. His bulk seemed to nearly drag her down again. She looked around and saw that the pool was shallow at one end and swam for it, somehow keeping his head above the water. He was breathing at least. That was something.
It was all she could do to pull him up on the rocky, shoreline of the pool, and she finally tripped and collapsed into a heap beside him. She couldn't move. Her exhaustion was complete. At least it kept her from thinking about Arnbjorn dying. Well, it did until she thought of it and then it was over. She couldn't hold it back and she curled into a ball beside Nazir and cried, the grief coming in gusts of noisy sobbing.
It went on for a long time until finally she felt a hand on her back.
"All right, now, Nessa. It is going to be all right now." Nazir's rich voice was comforting. It was something she'd never heard from him before.
It wasn't all right but the words helped her stop her agonized crying and she finally sat up and looked wearily at the Redguard. "Let's find a way out."
He rose to his knees, then managed to get to his feet, and finally held out a hand for her and she took it, pulling herself up with his help. "Thanks for saving my sorry ass back there," he said. "I know you lost a lot…"
"Let's go." She interrupted him before he could say more. Her voice was ragged. Words were knives that cut when she uttered them, gashed when she heard them.
They stumbled out of the cave, and looked around, trying to orient themselves. Somehow they'd traveled under the road and come out a good distance from the Sanctuary.
"Let's head to Falkreath." Nazir proceeded to climb up to the road and cross it, not seeming to care that he was naked.
They passed cautiously as they neared the entrance to the Sanctuary, peering at it from the surrounding forest. Smoke trailed out of it, but all was still and silent. The Imperials had either died or fled. Nessa pointed to the corpse of Festus still pinned to the tree with arrows and frowned, not trusting herself to speak.
"Poor old sod," Nazir said quietly. "Wait here a moment." He walked over to the tree, unpinned the old mage. He slung the old man over his shoulder and walked back into the forest where Nessa waited.
"Least we can do is bury him." He began stripping off the dead man's clothes. When Nessa threw him a questioning glance he shrugged. "I figure I need them more than he does." He put on the mage's robe, struggling to get his bulky arms into the sleeves, and then ended up just tearing them off. Likewise he ripped them open at the neck and down his chest to give himself room to breathe. The pants he just looked at and tossed away. "That'll never happen."
At another time, it would've been comical watching the bulky Redguard stuff himself into the scrawny old man's things. Right now though, humor couldn't have been further from her mind. The vision of her friends dying—Arnbjorn—circled in her mind.
"What happened to Babette and Veezara?" she finally asked in a hoarse whisper. Why not take it all at once.
"Veezara didn't make it. Imperial arrow. He died fast. Babette… I don't know. I think she took Arnbjorn seriously when he told us to scamper." He finished dressing and patted down the robes. "That'll have to do."
She nodded, letting another death sink in. Veezara. He looked out for her. Was always a friend. It was too much. Her grief was a mountain taller than any in Skyrim and she stood at the bottom looking up, wondering if she'd ever scale it, ever see the other side.
"I notice you didn't ask about Astrid," Nazir said.
Her jaw tightened and she looked away, not saying anything.
"Was it her?"
She said nothing, but stared off into the distance. What did it matter now?
"Was it her?" he asked again.
Then she started to walk away. She didn't know where, or why, but she left the cover of the woods and walked toward the remnants of the Black Door.
"Answer me, new girl." Nazir shouted after her, voice raw with anger.
Stung again, she wheeled and glared at him. "What in Oblivion do you think? Who else would have sent me to my death?" she rasped.
Nazir nodded, looking like it made sense. Satisfied with her answer, he settled Festus's body to the forest floor and began piling stones on it, building a cairn to protect him from scavengers.
She watched for a moment or two, then turned away and walked to the entrance to the Sanctuary. It was dark and smoky. Nothing stirred. Nothing but memories. Memories of a girl who walked into this long hallway downstairs with a belly full of parasites and a longing to fit in somewhere, to start a new life.
And who was she now? She could barely recognize herself. She hated the one she had once loved with all her heart, and she'd lost her dearest friend and one-time lover. If she ever saw her again… The laugh that bubbled out of her throat cracked with bitterness. Astrid had killed the very thing she believed she was protecting. Or perhaps she, Nessa, had. If she'd only had the courage to leave, to defy Cicero's prediction that the Night Mother would drive her mad, none of this would have happened. She could've run away with Brynjolf.
Plunging into the darkest thoughts of what she should have done, what might have been, she was ready to sink further into despair and never noticed the figure that crept up the long hallway down into the Sanctuary.
~o~o~o~
"Find her."
Brynjolf nodded, still unable to believe that the thing on the ground could speak. It was horribly burnt and looked more like a draugr then a person. Who it was, he didn't know, only that it wanted Nessa.
He had finally tracked Shadowmere's trail to the entrance of the cave not long ago. Something had definitely happened and it wasn't good. The old man in Dark Brotherhood robes pinned gruesomely to a tree only confirmed his suspicions. Nessa was here and their headquarters was under attack. There was a wagon still half loaded with barrels and a smattering of dead Imperial soldiers. Was she inside? He went down the hall, looking for someone, anyone still alive that he could question. That's when he heard the strange, hoarse words. "Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear." They were broken by gasps, coughs and gurgles and a voice that sounded like it was coming from a long dead corpse. He'd followed it and then found a badly burnt form on the ground, with a grisly circle of items surrounding it.
"Find her," the near-corpse had whispered to him when he entered the room. "Find Nessa, the Listener. Please…"
"Where is she?" Brynjolf asked, not really caring about the last wishes of this mostly-corpse thing.
"Don't…" It wheezed, looking about to expire at any moment. "Know."
Brynjolf shook his head and turned away. "Well, that's bloody useless." He started down the hall again, but the smoke was chokingly thick. Turning around he cursed his miserable luck. If Nessa were still in these tunnels, she'd have died from the smoke. There was nothing he could do but wait for the smoke to clear. Every instinct made him want to charge into the tunnels and, through sheer force of will, find her, and drag her out. If he found her he'd take her back to Riften. Haul her out of this Oblivion-hole.
As he walked up the tunnel, he saw a figure back lit by the setting sun. He pressed himself against the tunnel wall and kept to the shadows. A surviving Imperial? He could get the jump on the soldier. Bending he picked up a stone and cast it out, past the figure, but their was no response. Instead he collapsed to his knees and trembled. Well, it would be an easy task to sneak past the soldier, incapacitate him and come back in a few hours when the smoke had cleared.
Then he heard the sounds of grief, a sound of someone completely shattered. He carefully crept forward until the fading sun illuminate blonde braids he'd unwrapped so many times, threaded his fingers through them to straighten out the silky flaxen strands. Only this time they were gray with ash, dripping wet, and hanging about her shoulders, half unwound without his help. "Ness?"
She pulled her face out of her hands and looked up at him. Her face was streaked with soot.
"Gods, Ness. What happened?" He dashed up the last few feet of the tunnel and knelt in front of her, gathering her into his arms. "Are you okay?"
She said nothing, but he could feel her shaking her head against his neck.
For a moment he considered telling her about the corpse-thing waiting for her in the tunnel, but he decided against it. Whatever… whoever it was, was going to die and Nessa didn't need more of that.
"Come on, lass. Let's go home." He helped her to her feet and they stumbled off down the road, his arms the only thing keeping her from crumbling to her knees.
~o~o~o~
Notes: Sorry to go all GRRM on you! I know lots of folks loved Arnbjorn, I know I did! But life is short and grim in Skyrim, especially when you're an assassin. There is one more chapter to come.
Appreciate all the comments and look forward to reading more!