Rona's Story: The Truth Beneath the Rose

Chapter 8 Dread Family

Niven mounted his steed, a chestnut brown stallion with a black mane and a white tail. He looked back at Jillian and held a hand out, inviting her to join him, "Come on then. We need to get moving while it's still light out. I expect it'll take us a few days to get to Falkreath provided we're spared a heavy snowfall."

She just stared at him for a moment and he shook his hand, "You'd rather wait it out then? Go off on your own and pray for Sithis not to take you?"

With a groan, she reluctantly took his hand and he pulled her up onto the back of the horse. He snapped the reins and sent them cantering off through the partially frozen marshes. He felt her tentatively grasp at his sides, trying to hold on and he said, "You may wrap your arms around me if you need to."

"Can't we just go back to Morthal and rent a carriage?" She asked with irritation.

"No," he replied flatly.

With another exasperated grumble, she wrapped her arms tighter around his waist and he spurred his steed on to move quicker. They rode for several hours in silence at top speed. He wanted to get to Rorikstead sooner than later where they could rest for the night before moving on again.

After some time, he slowed his steed down to a light trot to give the mount a break. He felt her arms drift from his waist as she settled back into the saddle, relaxing more. He broke the silence and asked, "What do you know of our organization?"

He felt her shift in her seat before she said, "Not much. I mean... I've read some books about it."

"What have you read?"

"The Night Mother's Truth, The Brothers of Darkness, Sithis..."

"Most of what you've read is true. But I'm sure you have more questions. You are welcome to ask me and I will answer to the best of my ability."

Silence. Niven expected as much. It was always hard coming to terms with this fate. A lifetime of servitude to the Dread Father was a lot to take in. She was more than likely still in denial about her true nature too.

After another moment she finally asked, "Can I choose my own contracts?"

"No," he answered truthfully.

"Why not?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, examining her curious expression before he said, "We are without the Listener at this time." She made no reply to this so he asked, "Do you know-?"

"I know what the Listener is," she cut him off.

He gave a nod and looked forward at their path again, "Without the Listener it's been a struggle finding real contracts out here in Skyrim. We've received word that the other Sanctuaries in Tamriel are suffering as well. Many assassins have been taken by the Black Hand, the Gravelord, the Wraith, whatever you want to call it. So when we do find contracts we dole them out accordingly to those who need them most."

"So you've been rationing them," she said with comprehension.

"Precisely."

"So I..." she trailed off.

"You stole a very important contract from me. My mark has been growing these past two months quite steadily. I was next in line to receive a contract which would stay the hand. But now that you've gone and fulfilled it. Well... needless to say, I am in dire need of a contract kill."

"Then why didn't you kill the one in the shack with the contract!?" She snapped angrily.

He chuckled, "I was going to. They all had hits put out on them. We were surprised by how overzealous you were. We honestly didn't expect you to take all three. I had my bets on the Khajiit personally, Astrid assumed you'd take the old woman, thinking you had a pattern," he glanced back at her again, "But you don't hate old women do you? You just like to kill."