Chapter 19
I let out a groan of pain once again, my head throbbing as I can hear my intense heartbeat from my ears. I'm exhausted; my legs are are sore, my slow wheezing transforms into a fit of coughing, and dirt mixes in with the blood on my scratched skin, including my cut on my right cheek. It'll get infected sooner or later.
"You killed my brother! My older brother!" Amar rages, slapping me again, this time more ruthlessly, as if I'll feel bad of what I've done. The stinging pain intensifies, and goes back to throbbing. "Do you have no guilt at all?"
"No," I say monotonously, the chilly weather of the swamp seeping into my bones. My vision is the corner of the abandoned shack and feet heading towards me. I honestly don't feel guilty at all, what is Vittoria's life any different from the victims I have killed? Why is she more important? Is it because she's well-known throughout Skyrim? She isn't any more special than all the people I've killed.
"Are you even listening to me?" a soldier growls, and kicks me in the ribs, breaking my train of thought. "Where is your headquarters for the Dark Brotherhood?"
I wince at the tone of the Penitus Oculatus soldier. "I don't know," I mumble, but he snarls. Three guards out of fifty managed to meet me here. But, two more decide to join. They're tardy for the party.
"Carry her into the shack. She'll tell us after some time," he says, Amar and another soldier abruptly hauling me up. Amar's disgust is truly interesting, never have I seen him so heartbreaking. I turn my head to the other soldier, and he scowls. I'm practically being dragged as they throw me to the rotting bookshelf Astrid would sit at. I roll before being stopped by the shelf.
Three corpses lay on the ground, a woman with her neck bent an inhuman way, a cat, and a warrior. Is this how Kaito killed them? How luxuriant. I'm impressed.
Mr. Grouchy plugs his nose, and demands the corpses removed. Amar and the other soldier that carried me stands by the door.
"A Dark Brotherhood assassin?" a soldier asks Grouchy. He nods, and gestures towards me, lying helpless on the floor. I try to cast a spell to transform him into a chicken, but I'm too exhausted. I instead feel the blood rush down to my chin, and he bends down to face me. "What is your name?"
"Sir, a Nightshade was found on Miss Vittoria when she was killed," a puny sentry decides to pop in their interrogation party. I smirk once I look up to see his eyes widened. I can't help it.
"The Nightshade Assassin?" he says to nobody in particular, and I nod. The name is so cheesy, but catchy.
"The one and only."
He gets up and scowls. "Set up shackles here. Make sure nobody leaves her unattended, and keep watch on her at all costs. She's dangerous."
Despite Amar being a Stormcloak, they noticed him chase me down, and I guess they decided to leave him be. Two Imperials happen to have rope, and nervously tie it around my wrists. With my hands behind my back, I lay on my side, the Grouchy Soldier stepping on my hair. They depart from the shack, leaving Amar to keep watch over me. I grin.
The light seeping into the cracks of the roof shines onto his face like a spotlight, and he scowls.
"I trusted you," he says firmly, pain leaking from his voice. "And you trusted me to keep your secret of being an assassin. I didn't know you would murder my own brother's wife!"
"Ah, and that was the mistake you made," I tell him, sounding as hotshot as him when he tried to before the Imperial ambush. "You stupid fool."
"I trusted you!" he repeats. "Why would you do such a thing?"
Rolling my eyes, I shift uncomfortably. Why do people ask such stupid questions? "I'm an assassin, you damn idiot."
He forcefully kicks my side, throwing myself onto my back. I make sure not to let him know I'm in pain. "Where is your organisation? Headquarters? Sanctuary?"
"It's in Mzulft," I inform him tediously, and he widens his eyes to kick the door open. I flip so I can lay on my shoulder again. Two guards on each side of the door run to tell their captain, and Amar closes the door. Perfect. That ruin is filled with Falmer and other Dwarven mechanisms.
"Hey, Amar, didn't you have a crush on me before?" I ask randomly, just to cure my boredom. He scoffs.
"I did. But seeing your true nature, you're nothing more than a monster."
I smile. "Thank you." At least he tells the truth.
Quietly burning off the rope with a spell, I cup my hands so the smoke will not be so visible. Finally, my hands are freed.
I giggle. It's not something I can control. Now that I have the upper hand, I begin to laugh. He backs away as I stand up, my bruised wrists free. Shrill giggles are creeping him out, and I hook my foot on his and trip him, just what Kaito taught me to do before he has a chance to open the door. I slowly force the last of my poison Babette made for me into his mouth. He screams as he begins to choke, Amar's eyes twitching before he's gone.
"So annoying," I mutter, and equip my palms with spells. Casting invisibility, I hear soldiers returning.
"She's pretty small to be an assassin," I hear one say.
"Yeah - and the fact that she's an elf," the other replies.
"Stop tripping over your feet and help me with the shackles!"
"The boss will have our heads if we don't erase our tracks, first!"
I smile once they drop the rusty shackles to see Amar's dead body on the ground.
"Go get boss."
"Yep."
My spell wears off, and the soldier begins to shriek, holding the shackles up as if that'll protect him. I set him ablaze, his armour burning his skin right off his body.
After he's dead, I walk out of the shack. Did Kaito make it out safe? Did Veezara make it out alive? I dash outside to run behind the shack until I crash into a body. I fall backwards and land on the back of my head to see Mr. Grouchy crossing his arms at me. Damn it all. I get up to freeze him solid, but something rusty connects with the back of my head.
I awaken with a major headache. Did another soldier just seriously hit me with the shackles? I shuffle my hands to cast invisibility, but my hands are connected to iron behind me. More metal is fastened around my fists, preventing me from escaping. Wow.
Before my eyes can adjust, a fist connects with my throat, and I gasp for air. What the...
Another fist to the side of my face, and I swing my head to the side from the impact. Soldiers are laughing, but one or two are nervous. I feel my left cheek swell, my arms bruised and burned. It hurts to even look around. My head is throbbing, and the smell of mildew is making me hazy. I throw my head back, resting it against the wood. My attempt to reach my sock succeeds, and I kick off my leather boot. My dagger that connects to the ankle belt is gone. Damn it!
"Need something, Elf?" an Imperial mocks me, and my eyes adjust to him dangling a small dagger in his fingers. I glare. "And no, before you get any funny ideas, we did not check under your clothes."
I mentally sigh of relief.
"Now...you lied that your sanctuary was in Mzulft. You got our men killed," Mr. Grouchy snarls, and I return the favour. How long have I been here for them to scout that Dwarven ruin? It must have taken them a whole day.
I look up, seeing it is the next morning...well I've been asleep for a while. Thanks to the soldier who knocked me out, I didn't have to endure half the torture.
He kicks my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I cough, my throat also swollen, yearning for at least a drop of water. An Imperial mage heats a piece of metal, and they interrogate me once more. "Where is your sanctum?"
"Wait, boss, didn't Commander Maro say he knew their leader?" the soldier who whacked me in the head with shackles chips in, and I groan. I hope he dies later on.
The Imperial mage presses the metal against my arms, and I clench my teeth so tightly, they might crack. I wince every time he pokes me in the face, and I can hear the sizzling of my skin. They'll give me all the torture they desire. How low.
My stomach decides to betray me, and quietly grumbles at the smell of food. Baked potato?
Oh, so now they decide to torment me with food. That's far worse than anything else. Watching them stuff their faces is way beyond the abuse I'd expect. I'm hungry.
The captain of the group licks grease off his fingers, and smiles satisfyingly. But, out of the blue, one of the nervous soldiers hear my stomach bellowing, and bends down onto his knee. Gods, is he holding up a sweetroll? I glare at the other guards. See? This guy brings me food. He has dark blond hair and green eyes, but he's emaciated. He seems like a newbie of the Oculatus, and rips a piece of a freshly-baked sweetroll, then puts a little in my mouth, bit by bit. Food from Sovngarde. Bliss. He smiles, and I nod as in a thanks, but scowl at the others.
The head of the group slaps Sweetroll Soldier, knocking the sweetroll out from his hands. He turns to look at me, and scoffs.
He seems familiar.
I tilt my head to the side, and I begin to scream with my swollen throat.
"Chief, what's wrong with her?" one of them asks, but the captain continues to smile.
"She finally recognised me. Took her long enough."
My throat is sore from the beatings and screaming. That asshole is the one who led the Penitus Oculatus to my home with Commander Maro, and slaughtered my parents like animals.
"My, my, how the Dread Father would have you all suffer in the Void."
A cold breeze seeps into the shack, and the soldiers dart their eyes to the source of the sound. I stay silent, the deep voice sounding awfully nostalgic. After the voice laughs at their confusion, a ghost walks through the wooden walls, and begins to attack. I cough as violently as before, until I drown into darkness.
"Wake up," I hear, a cold presence in front of me, shaking my shoulders. The chains that stopped the blood flow of my wrists are broken, and my hands are bruised. I'm now afraid to look at my reflection to know how mangled I am.
I rub my arms, and look up. "Lucien," I mutter, managing a smile with my swelled cheek and busted lip. I've never been happier to see anyone in my entire life.
"Shh, your Dragonborn friend summoned me. We meet again, little Cortana," he tells me, and I can barely see from the blood blocking my vision. He wipes the fluid from my forehead, and I see his spectral smile.
"Where were you?" I ask, still savouring the taste of the sweetroll I was fed. "You just disappeared."
"You were not in the Dark Brotherhood just yet, and I could not accompany you any further. But, from that day, I knew you would be an assassin. I am bound to your soul, the Listener. Your friend may also summon me, but I have a closer connection to your spirit," he explains, gazing at my hair. "Come, let's get you home."
I expect to just fall through Lucien's ghost when he supports me, but I instead feel his clothes, as if he was living. He carries me onto Shadowmere, and hops in front. I remember when I tried to attack a ghost like him, but I instead fell through her body and fell into a gods-forsaken trap in the ground. I guess ghosts can control if a hand could stick through them or not.
"What is your age at this moment, little Cortana?" he asks me.
"I'm not little anymore," I grumble, and he laughs at my grouchiness. The Thieves Guild always call me little, even when I'm at this age. I guess growing up with people has that affect of calling you 'little.'
I cling onto Lucien as Shadowmere speeds down the path to Falkreath. Other travellers were astounded to see a ghost and a beat-up woman riding a demonic steed, and they were breathless. Some of them actually tried to follow us, but Shadowmere was too fast for them to get a glimpse. I have no idea how I fell asleep, but I did.
Waking up, Lucien aids me so I won't crash into a rock, considering my swollen eye. The swelling in my cheek died down, and the blood for my cut isn't running. Once we enter the sanctuary and walk down the staircase, Astrid worriedly runs up to me, but Kaito beats her to it and embraces me in his arms. For once, I don't fight back. It's nice to be in the sanctuary again.
Astrid raises an eyebrow, and I slowly push him off. Kaito's bicep is bandaged, a little dot of blood seeping into the wraps.
"The news is everywhere!" Astrid exclaims happily, leading me to the main area. "We'll get you cleaned up. We immediately sent Lucien after your capture, he claimed to know you. I hope you're hungry, Nazir is making a dinner celebration."
Babette rushes over to me, grasping a wash rag, and dabs my cuts. My stomach growls for five seconds straight, I really am starving. To the Void with my injuries, I want food!
"Sister, stay still, or else it'll get infected!" Babette fusses, wiping dirt from my face. She dips the rag into a health potion, and applies it on my cuts and other injuries. Now, the medicine on my wound makes it sting as if Sithis is unleashing the fire of inferno and vermin are eating at my flesh, while my cut is bathing in sulphuric acid as Babette's fangs are seeping into the wound, then finishes off with forcing tiny pieces of broken glass in the tiny slit of my gash. Yeah, I'm not exaggerating. It's painful. "Cut it out, it doesn't hurt that bad!"
I scowl. "It does!" Then she dabs the medicine onto my other thousand wounds.
Astrid turns to face Kaito. "Brother, Festus and Babette will be staying. Would you like to take the next contract?"
He nods, and stands up, locking his eyes on my injuries.
"Gabriella will show you what to do. Follow her," she replies, and he departs from us.
Astrid examines my wounds, and mumbles nonsense. My bruises, burns, cuts, and dirt stains are being tended by Babette, slowly and painfully. It's like how my mother invented Tamriel's most nastiest cough-syrup, using all the ingredients for the health potion. She dumped every nasty ingredient. It wasn't minor, either. She made me drink the whole bottle that was the size of my face when I was sick. I know, I always thought 'can't a restoration spell just cure everything?' Unfortunately, no. I tried to, and it doesn't heal wounds automatically. You have to do it manually afterwards; wrapping bandages, stitching, medicine, the spell just stops the pain and closes wounds, but that doesn't mean you don't have to fix it up afterwards. Sucks, I know. For scratches, that's different.
Five more gashes to tend. No way am I going to endure that.
"Cortana, don't walk away, they'll get infected!" Babette cries, gathering all her supplies to follow me.
"I'm hungry!" I tell her, heading to the dining room. Kaito is receiving orders from Gabriella, and he stops listening to look at me.
Astrid follows us into the dining area, and joins their chat.
"You're going to miss our celebration party if you head out now. Are you sure you don't want to stay?" she asks, but Kaito shakes his head.
My stomach is already starting to burn for food.
"What's the contract?" I question impatiently, stepping beside Gabriella.
Astrid and Gabriella exchange looks, uneasily staring back at me.
"What?" I ask, swinging my eyes to both of them. If they don't tell me, I'll ask Kaito. I doubt he'd lie to me. "Kaito, what are they hiding?"
He remains silent after a while, and stares at me with an allotment of his hair masking his right eye. His left eye, in my view.
"They want me to murder a Penitus Oculatus agent, Commander Maro's son, Gaius Maro."
I flicker my eyes to the Incriminating Letter, feeling as if liquid fire is burning over me. I'm staring into a pool of icy water, knowing it'll be painful to jump in. But it's fire. I jump in. Everything is boiling up inside me.
"I'll give him a painful death, I swear it," he promises me.
"Chop him to bits," Astrid purrs.
"Gouge out his eyes," I add.
"Drain him from his blood!" Babette exclaims.
"Smash his limbs," Arnbjorn snarls.
"Disintegrate his organs," Festus grumbles.
"Scatter his fingers," Veezara laughs.
"Carve his mouth into a smile," Nazir blurts.
"Place the letter where his heart shall be," Gabriella muses.
"That's madness!" Cicero squeals.
"How bloodthirsty!" Babette giggles.
"Happy hunting," I finish, and we wave him off. Kaito departs from us, and Nazir is finally done cooking the celebration dinner. Technically, it's lunch, but we're classifying it as dinner.
He scatters the plate of food across the dining table, to venison, fish, pie, soup, sweets, with a side of potatoes, vegetables, and beverages. More plates are being served left and right. Now this is Sovngarde.
I'm the first to eat, and I first dive into the soup. I learned my lesson to eat fish. Be patient, don't take a chunk of it, and chew thoughtfully. I made the mistake of defying all three rules, and let me tell you, choking on tiny, sharp bones is not very pleasant. Usually, my mother would debone the fish. Being pampered at home does not mean it'll be the same as an assassin, unfortunately.
"Sister, how'd it go with the murder?" Babette asks me, sipping her tankard of blood. "Before the capture, I mean."
Arnbjorn snorts. "Cortana isn't fast enough. Now, if you were a wolf, then the contract would be much easier."
It's true, though. I'm not very quick, but I am agile, and usually escape by casting spells and climbing trees. That's one reason why they caught me; I'm slow, and I'm not afraid to admit it. Now when someone is boasting and mocking me about it, that's a whole different story. I reach my foot from under the table, and I swing my foot to kick Arnbjorn's shin. Then I resume eating, ignoring his constant growling.
"Bah! A child could have accomplished it," Festus grumbles, and I scowl, but Babette just agrees with him.
"Well, when you have guards and city watch and citizens and one Stormcloak guy at full speed chasing your, then you'd understand," I say in between chews. My feet are still sore from playing tag with soldiers, and not to mention one angry troll, aka Amar, speeding to your heels.
"Is that what you wore during the wedding?" Veezara asks, barely gagging beside me. "I saw you during the reception, but I didn't know it was like...that."
"It wasn't like this when it was bought, trust me," I tell him. "When you have to run in water and be tackled in mud, your clothes tend to get messy. Now shut up, I'm trying to eat, I didn't have a whole meal in a whole day."
Lucien appears behind me, chuckling, scaring the life out of me. "She seemed more upset that the sentinels were tormenting her with food, instead of actually being angry about the torture."
My family laughs, and I throw a potato at Lucien, but it just flies past him. Ten points for my aim. The spectral assassin gazes at my dress, and simpers.
I glare at him. It isn't my fault I had to run into a swamp. I also look down to see my light-amethyst dress, and the bottom half is soaked with water, patches of dirt and blood stain every wrinkle, and my corset is all soggy. I really need a bath.
"How did you kill the bride?" Babette repeats, growling at Arnbjorn, since he interrupted her question.
"I soaked the dagger with the poison you made me, and threw it at Vici's eye from the balcony. The elixir Gabby left for me actually helped a lot," I tell her, proud of myself.
"Ah, so you found the little presents I left for you," the Dunmer smirks, and eats her stew.
After two hours, we settle our stomachs, lounging on the chairs.
"Nazir, how was your contract?" Astrid asks after her plate is empty. A smirk spreads on his lips, and he rubs his hands together.
"Perfect. It's all thanks to my special technique I developed. It's called the 'Razor-Winged Butterfly.' I'd teach it to you...but then I'd have to kill you," he says, cleaning his scimitar.
"Cool!" Babette exclaims, and Cicero giggles.
"Yeah, well, don't expect to hear stories like that in my future. I'm getting old. Being that amazing takes too much damn effort," he chuckles, and the dining hall is filled with laughter.
Babette faces Veezara. "What about you? Didn't you get a contract a while ago?"
The lizard nods. "Yes. I killed triplets, cleaved them in half. Now everyone can actually tell the difference of the three."
"To kill triplets, secretly, then have the whole thing blamed on the mother. Remarkable," Festus laughs, but coughs afterwards.
Nazir cleans his blade. "Hmph. Been awhile since I've cleaved someone in two. Forgot how hard it was getting the scimitar back out."
I frown. "You're the one who told me to stab my victim's head a while ago, but then my dagger was left embedded in his skull! You're lucky you can even get your blade out."
Everyone chuckles, and Gabriella finally finishes her plate. "When one can divine the future, success may not be assured... but it can be anticipated. It helps that I've already foretold my own death."
"Not me, though. I'll live until you all are like Festus," Babette points out, giggling. "What will your death be like?"
"I'm reckoning if I die from old age, or from a fire. I daresay, with Cortana sneaking in the kitchen, I'm sure we'll all die from a fire," Gabriella jests, and I lightly punch her in the arm, although it might as well be true.
As we are reminiscing more memories, violent interactions, and problems with contracts, the sanctuary is filled with laughter.
"And the time one of his fingers got stuck in my teeth! I couldn't find what Astrid was laughing about," Arnbjorn chatters, and Astrid sheepishly laughs. "How was your contract, dear?"
Our leader sighs wistfully. "Simply despairing. For my victim, at least. I was quite enjoying myself."
"But really. A horker, some twine, three Wood Elves, and a hatchet?" Gabriella recalls the memory. "Points for creativity, if nothing else."
"Cicero heard something about elves on his travel. It was a lying cat. He said he is confused about elves. A Wood Elf is not made of wood," Cicero mentions.
"I think it's because they live in the wood," Babette says.
"And the cat talked about Dark Elves, saying they aren't black as the night. Dark means hard to see. Lack of light," the jester continues.
"I think it's because of their skin. We're ashen-skinned," Gabriella points out, sipping mead.
"Then he mentioned High Elves. I wonder..."
Arnbjorn bursts out laughing. After the family realises it, they let out a guffaw. Even I start to giggle. I admit, that was really funny. Astrid is covering her mouth, as if that'll hide the fact she's laughing.
The Dark Brotherhood, lively and cheerful, laugh to their heart's content, until our sides start to hurt.
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*If you don't get what Cicero mentioned, M'aiq the Liar talks about Wood Elves, Dark Elves, and High Elves. Being Wood, being Dark, and being High.
Yeah.
I'm listening to Kyary Pamyu Pamyu heLP