Chapter Text
“I should’ve hired a Breton sooner.”
I side-eyed Danica in her obnoxiously yellow robes as she sidled up beside me, halting my healing spell as she broke my concentration. “I’m volunteering, Danica.” I corrected her as I tried to finish my work. The sickly farmer didn’t wake beneath me, but the pallor had all but drained from his face to a healthier complexion. I shook the tingle of magic from my hands and stepped back. “I should get going before it gets too late.”
My annoyance softened under her kind smile, and she thanked me as I left the Temple of Kynareth. Outside, I sucked in fresh air after feeling uncomfortably stuffy for the last several hours. The sun was still above the horizon, but the sky was beginning to glow orange and pink in preparation for the incoming sunset. I took the path leading to the Gildergreen tree, hoping to catch sight of some sleepy butterflies resting on the variety of flowers growing beside it before I headed home.
Three months now I’d been in Skyrim and I still wasn’t accustomed to it. It was a beautiful place, with kind and graceful people even amongst its political unrest. I didn’t quite know what to make of it, but I felt at ease inside Whiterun’s walls. Cassa still hadn’t returned, nor had I seen the jester again since he went on his merry way after delivering us back to the Hold’s capital. I hadn’t felt particularly miffed about his absence, but strangely Aventus did. For the first week he wouldn’t stop asking after Cicero, but then Aventus befriended a boy named Lars and spent most of his time chasing him around the Plains District.
As for Ysolda, I couldn’t be more grateful to her. I already knew her to be a woman with an impressively sharp tongue, but she never scolded me for anything I did, not even when I returned with an orphan in tow. Although she was accepting of him, we ended that first night discussing my plans for housing him. Ysolda’s home was too small for two adults, let alone a child who deserved his own bed. It took some honest work, admittedly more work than I had anticipated, but we saved up the money within two weeks and purchased a vacant home in the Plains District under Cassa’s name. Breezehome was roomy, and once Proventus Avenicci had fully furnished it we were able to move in. I’d never curse alchemy again after the countless home-brewed potions I sold ended up being the most lucrative for our savings. Ultimately, I was most grateful that Aventus now had a home to call his own, and that the rumors about him no longer passed between drunken bar mates.
I dug through my skirt pocket as I approached the two-story home, pulling out one of the key copies we had made for the front door. The lock clicked as I turned it, and I felt slightly disappointed that Aventus wasn’t already home waiting for me. I stuffed the key back into my pocket, reaching for the knob.
“Miss!”
I turned towards the familiar voice, and smiled brightly when I saw the courier jogging towards me. I waited for him to fully approach before I politely greeted him.
“I’ve been looking for you.” He riffled through his satchel, presenting two letters after a few brief seconds. “Your friend in Ivarstead wrote back and you also got a letter from the College of Winterhold.”
“Thank you.” I beamed, completely ignoring the latter letter to run my fingers over the former.
“Oh! I’ve got something else I’m supposed to deliver. Your hands only. Let’s see here…” He stuffed his hand back into his satchel, eventually pulling a piece of parchment from a pocket on the side. “Yeah, got this note.”
I curiously took it from his hand, flipping it over. There was no writing on the outside, and it was sealed with black wax, but the stamp imprint was blank. “From who?”
“Uh, not sure. Pretty shady fellow. I couldn’t see his face, wouldn’t take off his hood.” He shrugged as if that didn’t remotely seem suspicious. “Well, got to go.”
I absently let my eyes follow him as he bee-lined back to the city gates before I turned indoors. The early winter snow hadn’t yet touched Whiterun, but the chill had, and our new home was near frigid inside. I set aside the letters as I got to work igniting the hearth in the center of the first floor, and once I was satisfied with the flame’s height I went around relighting any candles that had gone out when I entered. I retrieved my mail and sat down on the second step of the staircase, taking a moment to relax before I opened the first letter.
Dearest Ashlynne,
I never questioned how this mountain earned its name, but since being here I now understand. There isn’t a place in Skyrim quite like it, maybe not in all of Tamriel. I wish you were here with me, so we could watch how the sun rises over the peaks together. Regardless, I am happy to hear that you made it back to Whiterun safely. I’m not sure if adopting the boy you sought to help was the best idea, but it’s your life and I know I can’t tell you how to live it. I’m not sure when I will be able to meet him, as I am still training my Thu’um with guidance from the Greybeards. Whenever this ends, I promise my first destination will be Whiterun.
This past month has been so strange, and I feel I do not completely grasp what it means to be Dragonborn. There’s so much I could say about what Arngeir has told me, but I have a responsibility to verify his claims before jumping to conclusions. Also, from now on I would appreciate any future letters to be sent to Vilemyr Inn in Ivarstead.
I miss you, my friend. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t grown fond of you. Send my regards to Ysolda and please keep yourselves safe.
- Cassa
P.S. Avoid the east.
I was overjoyed to receive her reply, but still I chewed the inside of my mouth in worry. Cassa was being so secretive, and left no reason for her warning. She hadn’t been able to explain this whole Dragonborn business properly before we parted ways, but commonsense led me to believe that it couldn’t mean anything good. Killing dragons? She had felled one outside of Whiterun, and there was another at Helgen, that meant there was a decent probability of there being even more roaming Skyrim. I felt grateful that Aventus and I hadn’t encountered any while on the road, as I was sure I wouldn’t have been able to protect him from something so massive.
I let those pessimistic feelings linger for too long as I opened the next letter. I once thought I would be elated to hear news from the College, but once I read the acceptance letter’s contents, I instead felt somewhat indifferent. Ysolda had pushed me to apply in the first place, when I didn’t know my place or what I had to offer. But now I had Aventus to care for, and I knew exactly what skills I possessed. Going to Winterhold was not something I was willing to do, not now, maybe not ever. Ysolda would likely be disappointed, but I was certain she would grow to understand after accepting Aventus so easily.
I tossed the page onto the stair beside me and tore into the final letter. My eyes quickly passed over it, and for a moment I was confused. The page was mainly blank, simply inscribed with two words - We know - with a black handprint above it. What… what is this? The message proved to be puzzling for only seconds before the realization hit me. I froze, the muscles in my hands tensing so suddenly I nearly ripped the parchment in two. We? How did the Dark Brotherhood know it was me who killed Grelod? How did they even find me? I carefully ran my finger over the black ink, pondering its meaning. When I impersonated an assassin in order to help Aventus did I perhaps offend them? Did stealing a contract, even unknowingly, somehow warrant some sort of punishment? Was this a warning? Should I be afraid?
I didn’t know.
I cooled my expression in preparation for Aventus’ return, not wanting to worry him when I wasn’t even sure if this was an immediate threat. I went to my room to change into a clean and more comfortable skirt that draped to my ankles, and a white tunic with lantern sleeves that I tucked under my waistband. I then busied myself preparing dinner, wishing I had finished volunteering earlier so that I had a chance to pick up more appropriate herbs from the market.
Aventus returned home just as I was piling all of the ingredients onto a cooking rack, and he rushed to my side for a warm hug, and his hair smelled of grass and honeysuckle. He stayed closed to the hearth as he went on about his day, boasting that he was the fastest runner amongst all the other children, and that Lars’ grandmother had shown them which flowers tasted sweet. Aventus was so much more easy-going than I had initially thought, but I was glad he had become comfortable, and I chose not to mention any of the letters I received lest I shattered the calm of our new home. I had brought him here for a reason, and I didn’t want to ruin his new found security and happiness.
Regardless of the fact that I was slightly disappointed by the meal I had made, Aventus made no complaint and easily finished his plate before packing up a portion to bring to Ysolda. It was our new routine, and even though the redhead always assured me she was perfectly capable of making her own meals I still felt I owed her a debt and enjoyed cooking anyway. Since the previous Mondas, she accepted each dish without protest. While I waited, I decided to burn all the letter besides the one from Cassa. I had sat in the chair facing away from the front door, and I instinctively relaxed when I heard the door open behind me. I leaned back in my seat, rubbing my fingers over my closed eyelids.
“Did Ysolda give you back the plate from yesterday?”
The door shut but Aventus didn’t answer. I opened my eyes, sitting up to swivel at the waist.
“Aven—”
The metallic smell of blood filled my nose. I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, and realized my limbs felt strangely weak. I tested the feeling, stretching my fingers up to rub the fog from my eyes. Heavy breathing echoed somewhere near me, and my spine stiffened against the mattress. Is this a dream? I would suspect that to be the case but I couldn’t remember falling asleep, and the scent permeating the air was far too potent for a nightmare.
“Sleep well?”
I jerked up in a panic, my boots sliding against the wood floor as I scrambled to my feet. The sultry female voice revealed a woman older than me, lounging comfortably on top of an empty shelf. She was shrouded in red and black armor, which covered everything save for her eyes, which looked down on me in much the same way a cat stares down a mouse before it pounces. “Where am I? Who are you?” I sped out, unable to look away from her eyes.
“Does it matter? You’re warm, dry… and still very much alive.” She tilted her head to the side as she narrowed her eyes. “That’s more than can be said about old Grelod, eh?”
I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. “You know about that?”
“Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around.” I opened my mouth to speak, but the woman rose her hand to stop me. “Oh, but don’t misunderstand. I’m not criticizing. Old crone had it coming. And you saved a group of urchins, to boot.” She rested her hands inside the crook of her lap. “Ah, but there is a slight… problem.”
“I don’t think I like where this is going…”
Her tone pitched in a way that reeked of smugness. “You see, the little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me and my associates. Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract.” She leaned forward. “A kill…that you stole, a kill you must repay.”
My mouth was terribly dry, but I swallowed down my discomfort, my eyes wavering to the floor. “What do you want me to do?” Perplexed, I stared back into her pine colored eyes. “Kill someone?”
She made an amused noise. “Well now. Funny you should ask.” She pointed behind me, and I slowly turned around to see what she was pointing at. There were three people against the farthest wall of the room, kneeling with their hands bound behind their backs and black hoods over their heads. I took a slow step toward them.
“Those are my guests. I’ve ‘collected’ them from…well, that’s not important. The here and now. That’s what matters.” I inched closer, feeling utterly confused. “You see, there’s a contract out on one of them, and that person can’t leave this room alive. But…which one?” She let out a small giggle. I twisted my neck to look at her.
“Go on.” She urged. “See if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make a kill. I just want to observe…and admire.” Her eyes were beaming and I had to turn away to avoid her burning gaze. I reached for my belt and pulled out my dagger, creeping closer towards the three captives before I halted.
“Before I do anything,” I gripped the handle tightly, “who are you?”
She let out a small huff, as if this too was amusing to her. But surprisingly, she didn’t deny me. “Astrid.”
“Alright,” My expression was near blank as I faced her prisoners, “I’ll kill one of them.” Immediately the three began to plead and protest and I tried to block it out as I observed them one by one. This didn’t feel right, but I had little choice. I just had to be sure which one it was.
I stepped towards the captive on the right, a Khajiit named Vasha. “Whoever this is, clearly we got off on the wrong foot. Ah, but no worries. This is not the first time I have been bagged and dragged.”
He did not create a pretty defense for himself. A murderer, a thief, and who knows what else. He seemed to be some sort of crime boss, with many contacts and even more men willing to do anything for him. And even though I didn’t want to kill someone who couldn’t defend themselves, he gave me good reason to when he called himself a defiler of daughters. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest that he was captured, and he obviously had a few enemies that would want to assassinate him. When he realized that I had never heard of him, he threatened to have his people carve his name into my corpse as a reminder. As if he could do anything in his position. If I was a more impulsive person I was sure I would have simply killed him and been done with it, but I wasn’t.
“Get these things off of me!” I turned my attention to the woman in the middle. Her name was Alea Quintus. She was a particularly shrill woman, screaming obscenities, generally making a sorry case for herself as well. It wasn’t hard to imagine that someone would put a contract out for her, when Aventus had essentially asked for Grelod’s death for similar superficial reasons. After realizing I had such rage inside me, I was tempted to remove her hood to test her. If she truly wanted to spit in my face for cowardly stealing her from her home, perhaps I could reward her tenacity by removing her tongue. I imagined it would be as easy as it would be satisfying.
I lingered beside her, feeling strangely thrilled by the fantasy before the man on the end finally spoke up. “I…I can hear you talking over there. Please, let me go. I’ve done nothing to you.”
The man to Alea’s left was Fultheim. Unlike the others I couldn’t be sure if he deserved to be murdered. Even though he was a mercenary, it didn’t quite seem plausible that he would be singled out amongst his band of fellow bandits. He was full of guilt, jumbling his words and shaking in pure and real fear. He kept rambling about a raid him and his group of bandits had done a week before. “I told Holdgrim there was no honor in killing sleeping men. It wasn’t my fault!”
He may hold responsibility of that, but I didn’t believe he was guilty of anything else. But I felt so unsure. There seemed to be equal reason for any one of them to have the contract, or maybe not at all, but I realized it didn’t matter. Astrid said that person could not leave this room alive, and this decision wasn’t simply my repayment, but a test as well. There was a possibility I could fail, and I wasn’t prepared to risk my own skin on the off chance I was wrong.
“I really only need one question answered.” She rolled up her sleeve, revealing the nasty scar on her arm. “I’m not patient, but I have much more time now than you do. If you don’t answer quickly, I’ll give you a matching scar. Seems fair after the shit job you did stitching it, wouldn’t you say?”
“I haven’t spoken to him in years. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been busy.”
Ashlynne didn’t hesitate. She unsheathed her dagger and immediately began cutting open his arm. Jak hadn’t truly expected it, oblivious to her true nature, and he couldn’t stop himself from screaming. She plunged the tip too deep, and he felt the edge scrape against bone. The painful sensation forced bile to rise up his throat, and she only pulled away when he lurched forward to vomit onto the floor.
She mocked him, reminiscing in how Clay died the same way he lived, as a coward.
Has it always been this way? His name brushed the back of my tongue and I clenched my fist in response. Two men murdered my parents, twins I eventually brutalized beyond recognition in my lust for revenge. One chained to the floor like an animal, the other tied to a chair. Clay and Jak Emir. And then Grelod. Three people I killed solely for my own gain, whether to ease my own pain or that of another. And now three kneeled before me, but there was no personal vendetta to force my hand. Just a mysterious woman with a voice as smooth and silky as velvet, and a commanding presence I could not disobey.
I wondered if that was truly all there was to it or if I was deluding myself. I’d never tried the door, didn’t even question whether or not it was locked or not, and blindly followed Astrid’s every word as if it were gospel. Whatever guilt I had left in me tried to crawl up my throat, and it tasted like bile and tears. I shut my eyes, closing myself off entirely from the room and all it’s occupants. I searched through that darkness in my heart, the one I embraced so long ago when I first tasted blood, and found a single source of light. It was Aventus. He now mattered more to me than anything else. I murdered Grelod, and I knew I could kill for him again.
I opened my eyes and let loose the breath I had been holding. “A kill for a kill.”
I made my decision. The woman was the first to die. As I drove my dagger into her jugular, her blood squirted onto the side of Fultheim’s hood, which drove him to near hyperventilation as he realized what had been done only a foot beside him. Vasha was next, and even though I would’ve taken great delight in watching him writhe in pain after separating him from his twitching tail, I decided not to waste time. I had to finish what I’d been brought here to do and then get back to Aventus. I grabbed his shoulder for support before quickly jamming my blade under his ribcage. Vasha died quietly, but the stench of fresh blood increased Fultheim’s fear exponentially, and he let out a wet sob as I neared him.
The Nord pushed through his sobs for long enough to beg for his life, but I did not hesitate to step behind him, placing my palm on the top of his head. He stilled, and the gasp that escaped his mouth was silenced as I drew my blade across his throat quick as lightning. His body fell forward, blood pooling out from under his body, just like the others. I stepped away from their bodies, observing the mess I left behind. Their blood was mixed on my blade, and it looked warm and slick as it dribbled onto the floor. They all had to die, I had decided, because I could not be wrong.
The sweet song of euphoria spread through my body, creeping down to even my fingertips. I dropped the blade, and the sound it made as it clattered to the floor caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise.
“How many times is this now, Ashlynne?”
I stared at the blade, my eyes shaking in my skull as I suffered through the evocation. I recognized the voice, but couldn’t even vaguely place who it belonged to, only that I had not heard it in what felt like a lifetime. My whole body tensed as if on reflex and a shadow fell over me, wrapping its too-strong arms around my chest. Why did his voice sound so sweet? Who was he? If I looked up now, would he be standing before me?
I went to sink into that panicked feeling, but snapped from my stupor as Astrid clapped behind me. “Well, well. Aren’t we the overachiever. Three possibilities, three victims. Must have been one of them, right? So why take chances…”
I shook my trembling hands, trying my best to appear calm as I faced her. “You told me to kill, and I killed.”
“Indeed. For you, my friend, seem to understand what’s truly important. When I give an order to spill blood, you follow it. No questions. No remorse.”
“So…I’m free to go now?” I asked in a small voice, afraid to look away from her captivating stare.
She changed her position on the shelf. “Of course. And you’ve repaid your debt, in full. You can leave, but why stop here? I say we take our relationship to the next level.” I eyed the door, feeling cagey from her continued provocation. “I would like to officially extend to you an invitation to join my Family. The Dark Brotherhood. In the south west reaches of Skyrim, in the Pine Forest, you’ll find the entrance to our Sanctuary. It’s just beneath the road, hidden from view. When questioned by the Black Door, answer with the correct pass phrase. ‘Silence, my brother.’ Then you’re in. And your new life begins.”
I felt uncomfortably wary, but I couldn’t simply deny her invitation altogether. Not when I looked back at my freshest victims still lying dead in the very room we stood in. I was… good at it. I swallowed as I slowly nodded and turned my back to her, mumbling that I would consider it. I headed towards the door, only stopping when she called out my name. I kept my hand on the doorknob as I looked back up at her.
She pulled down her mask, revealing her face for the first time. She was beautiful, as was the encouraging smile that spread across her lips. “I’ll see you at home.”