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Chapter Text

Zenotha wearily plopped onto a rock and stared blankly at the dead Dunmer in front of her. Apparently someone wanted her dead, and badly enough to pay to have it done, as if nearly being executed by the Imperials at Helgen wasn’t aggravating enough. The one man had clearly wanted to set her free but that bitch with him was having none of his shit, regardless of how rational it was. To be fair, Zenotha had noticed a lot of undermining of the female soldiers during the trade-off and transport of her and the other prisoners. She wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t have done the same thing, as annoying as it was to admit it.

Of course, none of that mattered now, she was free, and there were even people that liked her for whatever shallow reasons. 'Blah, blah, everyone insults the elf until all of a sudden they’re in danger and she does that weird loud swirly thing and absorbs a dragon soul. The Nords that witness it must be besides themselves when they see an elf displaying the power from a Nord fairytale', she snickered to herself. 'I should style my hair so that my “knife ears” really show. What are they going to do? Attack a thane? Harm the “dovahkin”, whatever that actually means since no one can explain it without saying “it’s a Nord thing”? Apparently it’s not just a “Nord thing” if a fucking Altmer just got dragged into it.'

Faendal came walking up the path with the pack full of Chaurus eggs they’d just collected. He threw a sideways glance to the dead elf and furrowed his brow. “That looks like Dark Brotherhood armor, you know.”

“Dark Brotherhood? Like the Dark Brotherhood? Scary gang of assassins? Someone did all that Black Sacrament weird shit deliberately to have me wiped out?” Zenotha raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Well I guess I’ve really made it, then. I’m flattered.”

“Zenotha, I don’t think that…..”

“Oh, stop, Faendal. You know I’m joking.” She climbed to her feet. “Let’s check out what Mirinn left for me in this place, why don’t we?”

The surprisingly unrusted key turned easily in the lock but the door stuck. She threw her weight onto the door a little bit too roughly, knocking it open. She stumbled to the ground and knocked down a bowl of fruit as she fell. She grabbed an apple and tossed it up at Fendal, laughing as she climbed to her feet. A quick glance around made her both happy and bittersweet- Mirinn had left Tundra Homestead completely stocked and furnished for her, even down to plenty of food. It was all still mostly fresh, so Zenotha had to have missed her by only a day or two. She hoped Mirinn knew what she was doing running off back to Morrowind on what she thought was a foolhardy mission, but she also couldn’t complain with at least having a home to call her own in Skyrim. Being surrounded by Nords who hated her because of things she literally was no part of and being attacked by dragons daily were not things she had prepared herself for.

She walked through the small house slowly, running her fingers along the backs of every chair, the scrollwork on the kitchen bar, and the ornate doors of the bookcases. Every detail was perfectly Mirinn, somehow a combination of hardy Skyrim-ness and a bit of elven nostalgia. It felt somewhat foreign, but she hoped that she would adjust to the house quickly. Suddenly, she was overwhelmingly both tired and sad. 'Shit, not now, Zen. Keep it together'.

“Faendal, I need a nap before we go back over to Whiterun. Keep an eye out for a barrage of assassins for me?” She half-smiled. Faendal rolled his eyes and nodded. She playfully half-punched him on the arm and shuffled into the bedroom.

The beds had been made with Mirinn’s distinct precision, blankets folded crisply, furs placed exactly in the center of the bed, and pillows fluffed and placed just so. Zenotha collapsed on the double bed and fell asleep almost instantly, clutching a pillow that still smelled of the purple mountain flowers Mirinn loved so dearly.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When Zenotha woke up it was dark outside. She had no idea what time it was- hell, or if it was even the same day, to be honest. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark, squinting as if she’d be able to listen for Faendal better. She heard light snoring from the entryway to the house. Either Faendal had fallen asleep or she had a visit from a very tired burglar. She smiled to herself, stretched, and promptly fell out of bed. 'Oof', she thought. 'That’s gonna leave another bruise to add to the growing collection'.

“Are you alright?” Faendal had apparently been startled awake up by her graceful thud.

“I’m fine. Just me, no burglars. No thanks to you.”

“I locked the door. We have locks here in Skyrim, you know.”

“Okay, smartass.” She pulled herself up with a groan and shuffled into the entryway.

“Where are we off to now?”

“Mirinn left me a strange note about a rumor of a unique bow she refers to as ‘Ruin’s Edge’ that she thought I’d be interested in. Didn’t give me a lot of details, just that it’s in Stony Creek Cave. I think it’s kinda near Riften?”

“What’s so special about it?”

“She said it adds random effects to arrows randomly. A lot of randomness involved, I know. Sounds daedric or something, though, so no surprise there. I’m interested if it’s as good as she said. At least until I find a better bow?” She shrugged. “A lot of the smiths we’ve talked to have great blades but not so many bows. To be fair, it wouldn’t hurt to get better with blades, but…... “

“No, I agree. It’s an unfortunate truth but I don’t see a lot of Nords using bows outside of the city guards, at least in the places I’ve been. To be honest, I think a lot of Nords see bows as elf weapons. Surely someone somewhere will have a quality one that you’ll be happy with.”

Zenotha smirked and wiped her hands on a nearby dishrag. She scratch her ear tip on her sleeve and sighed, tossing the rag aside. She grabbed her helmet and bow, and gestured for Faendal to follow her as she walked out the door, grabbing a sweet roll on the way out.

It wasn’t that long of a walk to the Whiterun stables in reality, but of course it started raining about halfway there. Zenotha groaned and rolled her eyes. 'I should probably get used to this, shouldn’t I? I guess it’s better than the supposed possibility of sinking into the sea at home'. She caught a glimpse of a couple sludging through the rain ahead of them as they neared the stables. They looked thoroughly soaked, and ragged. She jogged up ahead to speak to them.

“Dragons are in the skies, traveler,” the man said to her. “Be careful in your travels.”

“I know. I was at Helgen,” Zenotha said. She looked between the two of them, both Nords. She braced herself for the inevitable shitty comment that would surely be the next thing he said- after all, it seemed like most Nords blamed either the Thalmor or the Stormcloaks for the dragons, and she definitely didn’t look like a Stormcloak.

“We lost our home, our everything. Mind the skies, stranger.” The woman had a thick, undeniable accent.

“Here,” Zenotha said. She dug some septims out of her pouch. “It isn’t much, but at least get a stay out of the rain for the night. The rain here seems to chill to the bone.”

“Talos bless you! I mean….” The man abruptly looked somewhere between terrified and embarrassed. 'Ah, there’s that Thalmor association, you know, since apparently all Altmer are Thalmor'.

“Your secret is safe with me. I have no problem with the worship of Talos. I’m not with the Thalmor.” She smiled and waved Faendal over, leaving the baffled couple to look at him in bewilderment as he passed, confusing him as well.

“Wait what was that?” He asked when he caught up.

“No matter. Just some people in need that I think were surprised by an act of charity.” She squinted at him. “Now don’t let it get around that I’m sometimes nice, I need a bit of a bad reputation.”

Carriage driver Bjorlam waved when he saw them approaching. “Where to now, my friend?”

“Riften, this time.”

“Ever been to Riften?” as she climbed into the back of the carriage.

“Bjorlam I’ve been here for like a week. When would I have had the chance to go to Riften?” She cackled. “I’m sorry, that was ruder than I meant it to be. No, I haven’t been. Have you been, Faendal?”

“I have not, no,”

“Well, I guess this’ll be an adventure for both of us.” She grinned and elbowed him. He just groaned.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“So this is where I’m supposed to find this amazing bow? It looks half-flooded!” Zenotha groaned. “My boots have only just dried out from the walk to Whiterun.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this is probably going to happen a lot in Skyrim,” Faendal quipped.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that I’m probably going to complain the whole time.” She winked. “Alright, well let’s see what we have here. I don’t see any sort of guard outside so hopefully there’s either no one here or only a few people susceptible to fire.”

“Wait, what? Susceptible to fire….?” He looked at her, obviously confused. “What do you mean aside from the obvious?

“Oh wow, that’s a hell of an oversight on my part, isn’t it? I guess you haven’t seen me use magic so far.” She grinned and snapped fingers on both hands- one hand burst into flame and the other one sizzled with sparks. “So this is a thing I can do. Sparks should be handy if the cave’s as flooded as it looks…. And the fire should be handy if it’s not. Not that I don’t know other spells but these are the most effortless. No big deal.”

“Just don’t hit me with either if they’re so effortless.”

“Well don’t jump in front of me when I use them, how about that?” She stuck out her tongue and waded into the water.
They quietly crept (well, swam, really) into the cave. There was a dead Breton hanging over a support beam, but there looked to be no one else in the area. Zenotha was surprised at how many fish were living in the pool inside. They all darted out of the way as the pair passed through to a wooden ramp across from the entrance. The passageway through the cave was upstream through a small creek. 'Good job naming this place', she thought. After they worked their way up a ways, she noticed something strange about the air.

“Faendal, get back. I think I can ignite this gas or whatever it is. Catch is it will damage you, too. Stand back a bit.”

“You’re going to light up the whole place?”

“Did I stutter? Yes. I am going to set this whole place on fire, and it’ll take you with it if you don’t back up.” She shooed him away with her hands. He obviously reluctantly retreated until she stopped waving him off, then she turned around to face the mystery fumes. She could slightly make out a big lumbering figure that seemed like he might be the bandits’ leader. She took a deep breath and looked away as she pushed her fire in front of her. The gas went up in huge flames, a giant fire bomb that swept through the rest of the cave. Mini explosions rocked the area where the bandit was, most definitely killing him nearly instantly (she hoped). She drew her hands back for a moment, then turned to survey the rest of the cave. She had in fact wiped out three remaining bandits (two of which she hadn’t even known were there) and she could almost make out the figure of the oddly-shaped bow in the leader’s hands. She had taken a risk with the flames, hoping it would pay off and not damage the weapon. She scampered up to the leader’s body, hopping between stones, and sure enough, there was the bow. There was one major detail that Mirinn had left out of the report, though, or maybe she didn’t know.

It had an eyeball.

“Why does this thing have an EYEBALL?” She screeched. “How am I supposed to shoot this thing when it has an EYEBALL?’

“Oh that is unsettling.” Faendal sounded obviously weirded out. Zenotha pulled lightly on the bowstring. The eye blinked.

“FAENDAL THE EYEBALL JUST BLINKED.” She was mildly panicked. “Why is it fucking blinking? Why is there a fucking eyeball to begin with?”

“To watch behind you for assassins, maybe” He smirked.

“You’re not helping, sir!” She took a deep breathe. “You know, considering I was fighting walking corpses the other day, this really shouldn’t seem so horrible, I guess. I mean at least this hasn’t talked to me yet.”

“If that makes you feel better.” He was clearly not alright with the eyeball bow, maintaining a decent distance from it.

“This is somehow not the strangest thing that’s happened to me in the last two weeks when you think about it.” She groaned. “And I did want a better bow. Listen, I gotta try to find a bright side to this or I might puke when it blinks again,”
The eye blinked again. She rolled her eyes dramatically but didn’t gag.

“Fuuuuuuck. Alright come on, everybody. Elf. Eyeball. Let’s hit the road.”

“Excuse me, since when...”

“Let’s goooooooo.” Zenotha clapped her hands. “Let’s just deal with Eyeball Bow here later and get back to making some gold, yes?”
Faendal narrowed his eyes at her. She patted the bow as she would have patted a dog and turned on her heel. Leaving the cave proved slightly more treacherous than entering, the downward slope making it far slipperier, it seemed. When they swam out into the pond, they caught an elderly fisherman off guard. Zenotha gave him a quick, awkward wave and scrambled out of the water.

It was a long trek through the woods to the road and down to Riften. She chattered on about several things- Mirinn, finding out she had magical abilities when her childhood neighbors' son tried to push her into a well, the dog that followed her home from the market that one time and still lives with her parents today…. Faendal was absolutely exhausted when they arrived back at Riften. Even Zenotha had quieted and her eyelids had gotten heavy. She refused to get a room at the inn in Riften, though. She had a perfectly warm and dry home of her own that was a not-quite-short carriage ride away as she kept reminding him. The whole time, she kept nodding off, only to get jarred awake by a rock in the road, or a roar of a somewhat-distant dragon, or just Faendal prodding her.

A few hours later, Bjorlam announced their arrival back at Whiterun. Zenotha had been half-asleep but was jolted awake by something in her peripheral- a strange Argonian man watching from a distance. He was wearing black and red armor identical to the armor that of the assassin from a few days prior. Suddenly, she realized that she may have a very large and very legitimate problem on her hands- and she’d rather face down fifty dragons than whatever the Dark Brotherhood had in store for her.

Chapter Text

“Rumor has it that Aretino boy in Windhelm has been performing the Black Sacrament.” Hulda furrowed her brow. “My cousin sent me a letter about it the other day. I don’t even want to know what the poor boy had to do to get what he needs for it. He’s only a child. Maybe you can talk some sense into the boy.”

“For fucks sake. I cannot get away from this whole mess. I’ve been dodging Dark Brotherhood assassins for a month now. Most of them just lurk and make sure I’m aware of them but I still can’t forget about that first attempt. Maybe if I resolve this they’ll leave me alone. Or send someone actually capable of finishing the job.” Zenotha rolled her eyes dramatically. “Let me go grab Faendal and I’ll see what I can do.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Here we are, Windhelm. You know, it’s the oldest human city in Skyrim.” Bjorlam grinned. “Good luck with the Aretino boy.”

“Thanks, Bjorlam.” Zenotha jumped down from the carriage, with Faendal right behind her.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing getting involved in this,” Faendal muttered. “I’m pretty sure this is just going to make it all worse.”

“I’m sure they already know I’m getting involved. I didn’t tell Bjorlam anything about why we’re here and he even knew. Word apparently travels fast in Skyrim. Hopefully this time it works to our advantage. Well, my advantage. I’m pretty sure you’re free and clear.” She pulled her hair back from her face and pushed her helmet down. She tucked her amulet of Julianos into her armor with a sigh.

The bridge leading to the main gate of Windhelm was icy and a little treacherous. A couple of times, she hit ice patches at just the wrong angle and almost lost her balance. ‘Man, I really need to get used to all this ice and snow or it won’t be the Dark Brotherhood that takes me out.’ she thought. The guards at the end of the bridge pushed one of the massive doors open to reveal more of the same stonework…. And the same icy ground. Zenotha could see a couple of Nords shouting at a Dunmer woman just inside. She could only make out a few words from as far away as they were, but it was clear that then men were accusing the woman of being an Imperial spy.

“Mmmm nothing like a town full of good-ole-fashioned racists.” She glanced over at Faendal. “If they treat the Dunmer like that, I can’t wait to see how they’ll react to an Altmer.”

Sure enough, almost the exact minute they passed through the gates, the two Nords turned their angry gazes towards her. She smirked at them antagonistically. “My name is Zenotha Aedius. Tell me, my good men. Where can I find Elda Early-Dawn? I have business with the fair lady.”

“My name’s Rolff Stone-Fist, and if you actually have business with Elda, I’ll eat my hat.” He sneered at her. “Elda’s got no need for business with your kind.”

“My kind?” Zenotha feigned ignorance. “You must mean sell-swords? I’m not really a sell-sword per se, though I have been known to take odd jobs here and there. No, I have business with her regard the Aventino boy. You know, the one performing the Black Sacrament? I’m here to visit with him.”

Rolff paled. His companion started backing away.

“She‘s in the inn.” He nodded in the general direction of Candlehearth Hall. “You’d best not be dragging her into your Brotherhood nonsense.”

“I thank you, sir.” She grinned. Then she walked briskly towards the inn.

“Did you seriously just impersonate a member of the Dark Brotherhood?” Faendal hissed at her.

“No. A silly, ignorant man made a wild assumption and I failed to correct him.” She threw open the inn door dramatically. The men at the bar turned and looked at her warily. A woman that had to be Elda threw down her bar rag.

“And what is this all about?” she asked with obvious distaste and a sneer. Zenotha strode across the room.

“I’m here regarding the letter you sent your cousin Hulda in Whiterun regarding the Aretino boy. Aventus, I believe his name is?” She looked between Elda and the three men- as the three men stood and walked away from the bar/ Elda looked mildly panicked for a brief moment. “Would you kindly point me in the direction of the boy’s house? I’d like to resolve this as soon as possible.”

Elda looked her up and down. Her gaze rested on Ruin’s Edge and she crinkled her nose. ‘Maybe having a bow with a blinking eyeball won’t be such a bad thing’ she thought. ‘I’m not sure if this thing is actually Daedric or not but it definitely at least looks like it.’

“Go out the door you entered through and turn left. Take the next left and walk until you see a house that bridges over the walkway. That’s the Aretino house. Poor boy was recently orphaned. The city would certainly be grateful if you helped him, even if you are a Thalmor.’ Elda’s whole face contorted with disgust.

“I’m not…,” she stopped herself and exhaled angrily. She took her bow off her back and Elda flinched. ‘Chickenshit Nord’’ she thought. She waved for Faendal to follow her and stormed out of the inn.

“A guard might get worried. A woman approaches with a weapon.” Zenotha stopped short and glared in the direction of the voice. It was a Windhelm guard, of course, and she could feel the smugness even through the helmet covering his face.

“Piss off,” she grumbled. Faendal let out his trademark groan. She elbowed him. “Let’s go.”

She put her bow back on her back. Dirty snow crunched under their feet. It echoed around them as they approached the Aretino house. A single window was glowing with candlelight. The door was locked when she tried the handle.

“Faendal, keep watch. The door’s locked so I have to pick it. This kid wants the Dark Brotherhood to visit him but can’t even leave his door unlocked. I bet he’s a little twerp.”

“I think that’s a bit of a leap from leaving the door locked. It’s probably locked so the guards don’t drag him off to the orphanage.”

“I like my answer better.” Her knife twisted the locked open with a satisfying click. “I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”

As they walked into the house, they could hear chanting upstairs. “Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.”

“Well that’s morbid.”

“Zen, it’s called THE BLACK SACRAMENT. What did you think it would be, a poem about flowers and rainbows?” He dodged her elbow.

“Hello?” The boy’s voice floated down from upstairs.

“Ah, yes. Yes, We’re here. Yes.”

“I knew it would work!” They mounted the stairs and Zenotha was shocked by what she saw. Skeletal remains lay on the floor surrounded by candles, nightshade stems, and a boy about about ten years old. “It worked! I knew you’d come, I just knew it! I did the Black Sacrament over and over. With the body and the… the things. And then you came! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood.”

“Uhhh…” she threw a concerned look at Faendal. ‘Shit,’ she thought. “I’m sorry, boy, but I’m not who you think I am.”

“Of course you are!” Aventus grinned. “I prayed, and you came, and now you’ll accept my contract.”

“Sooooo….” Zenotha forced a smile. “What’s going on then?”

“My mother… she died. I... I’m all alone now. So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften. Honorhall. The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind. But she’s not kind. She’s terrible. To all of us. So I ran away, and came home. And performed the Black Sacrament. Now you’re here! And you can kill Grelod the Kind!.”

“Are you really sure about this?” She frowned. “You understand how serious this is?”

“Yes! I’m sure. She’s mean to my friends there and tells them they’re never going to get adopted and no one wants them.”

“Oh, that is pretty terrible.” Zenotha said. “Well let me see what I can do, alright?”

“Oh, yes! Please!”

“I’ll come back when it’s done.” She tugged on Faendal’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

The duo headed down the stairs and out into the cold. Faendal stayed quiet but she could feel the disapproval radiating from him.

“Listen, I know you’re not a fan of this whole Dark Brotherhood situation but we gotta do something for this kid. He has no one in his corner.”

“So what’s going to happen to him after you kill her? Where’s he going to go?”

“Well…” She paused. “There either has to be another orphanage, or someone else who can step up to run this one. Right?”

“I guess we’re going to find out.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

They approached the orphanage slowly. ‘Act natural’, she thought. She’d killed plenty of people at this point, but the anxiety of knowing she would most definitely have witnesses, and that some of them would most definitely be children, was almost overwhelming. If Aventus was correct, however, the children probably wouldn’t be too upset to see Grelod go.

“You know, I understand if you don’t want to be part of this, Faendal.” She bit her lip.”This is probably the furthest thing from what you signed on for.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I can’t fault you for agreeing to take this supposed contract.” Faendal frowned. “It’s already bad enough that these kids are stuck here, they don’t need an insufferable hag making their lives even worse. So let’s just get this over with.”

A pretty young woman exited the orphanage as Zenotha reached for the handle. “Oh, hello! I’m Constance Michel. Grelod is inside with the adoptable children. Go right on in and meet them. I’m going over to the market. I’ll be back in just a bit.”

“Ah...um… thank you. I’ll try to make this quick.” She nodded and waved as the woman walked off. Faendal cleared his throat. “Oi, let’s go.”

They walked into the orphanage quietly. She glanced around quickly- the table was set for five people, but one of the settings was far more and far better food. “That must be Grelod’s setting. She eats tarts and sweet breads while the children get a small serving of plain rice and hard, stale-looking bread.”

“Those who shirk their duties will get an extra beating. Do I make myself clear?” The voice was from an obviously old woman who had to be Grelod.

“Yes, Grelod,” said multiple children in unison.

“And one more thing! I will hear no more talk of adoptions! None of you riff-raff is getting adopted. Nobody needs you, nobody wants you. That, my darlings, is why you’re here. Why you’ll always be here until you come of age and get thrown into that wild, horrible world. Now what do you all say?”

“We love you, Grelod. Thank you for your kindness.” Zenotha emerged around the corner as the children chanted in unison.

“Yes, Grelod. I’m here to give you a special thank you for your ‘kindness’.” She grinned and sent an ice spike straight through Grelod’s heart. The old woman gasped and blood spurted from her mouth. The children looked from Grelod to Zenotha and Faendal and back again. Grelod grasped at the door frame behind her as she slowly sank to her knees, choking and spitting blood the entire way down. The ice spike in her chest was rapidly melting- by the time anyone found her there would be no sign of the cause of her death. One of the little girls ran up to Zenotha and threw her arms around her.

“Grelod the Kind is dead! Thank you so much, lady!” She took a step back and then skipped back over to join her friends. Grelod glanced up at the children one more time before her eyes went blank. She slumped over onto the floor.

“We gotta go, Zen. Constance Michel is going to be back any minute now.” Faendal grabbed her arm. “NOW. Let’s go.”

The walked briskly out of the orphanage, with the sounds of the children’s laughter ringing behind them. Their timing couldn’t have been better- it looked like Constance Michel was finishing whatever purchase she was making. They ducked between Mistveil Keep and Black-Briar Manor. Nura Snow-Shod glanced up from the Shrine of Talos briefly, but said nothing and went back to her praying. A moment later, chaos broke out in the marketplace.

“Yep, you’re right. Time to go. Let’s use this distraction while we have it.” She slipped out and watched as the Riften guards ran to the orphanage. Constance Michel was outside, loud and distraught. Zenotha straightened her helmet and calmly stepped out into the main street with Faendal behind her. They managed to pass between the few residents who hadn’t been attracted by the commotion and before long, they’d managed to slip out the front gate.

“Sigaar! I need your carriage,” she hissed loudly. “We need to get to Windhelm and quickly.”

“Climb in back,” he said. “Do I even want to know wh….”

“Absolutely not.”

“Suits me.” Sigaar shrugged.

The duo climbed into the carriage. Zenotha threw a quick wave at Shadr as they headed out. A guard came running out the front gate as they were almost out of sight, and Zenotha covered the side of her face with her hand.

Now, to tell the Aretino boy and hopefully be done with this mess.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha woke with a start. She immediately tensed. She was in dark, strange room with a strange haze that blurred her vision.

“Sleep well?” The voice was a strange woman. And that woman was in familiar armor- red and black, like the Dark Brotherhood members that had been following her. ‘Shit’, she thought.

“Who are you?”

“Who I am really isn’t as important as what I am. And what I am is an admirer. Of sorts.”

“Well that’s cryptic.” Zenotha rolled her eyes. “Where am I, anyway?”

“Does it matter? You’re warm, dry… and still very much alive. That’s more than can be said for old Grelod. Hmm?”

“Shit. You know about that?”

“Are you kidding? Half of Skyrim knows.” The woman straightened up. “I’m not criticizing. It was a good kill. There’s just one slight... problem.”

“Oh Faendal is going to love this.”

“Hmmm?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry. So what is this problem, exactly?”

“You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me and my associates. Grelod the Kind was, by all means, a Dark Brotherhood kill. A kill… you stole from us. And a kill you must repay.”

“And you want me to kill someone else?” Zenotha raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Funny you should ask.” The smile was obvious in the woman’s voice, even despite the cowl she was wearing. “If you turn around, you’ll see our guests. One of these guests has a contract out on their life. That person cannot leave this room alive. But which one? You are going to figure out who that person is. I’m just going to observe… and admire.”

“Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll kill one of them.”

“Cowards! Stealing a woman from her home! For shame!” Zenotha whirled around to see three hooded victims. The loudmouth was clearly the woman in the middle. The men on either side remained silent outside of a stray whimper or two.

“Who are you?” Zenotha stood and walked over to her.

“None of your damn business who I am! If you’re going to kill me, just go ahead and do it already. As Mara is my witness, if I didn’t have this hood on I’d spit in your face.”

“Would someone pay to have you killed?” Zenotha rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me? What kind of question is that?” The woman asked shrilly.

“One last time. Would someone. Pay. To have you killed?”

“I’m kneeling here with my hands bound and a sack over my head. What do you think?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Zenotha’s hands lit up in flames.

“You cut these bindings this instant. Cut them right now!”

“Sure, let me get those for you.” She closed her eyes and set the woman ablaze. The men on either side flinched and leaned away. After a few moments passed, she turned the flames into ice and silenced the woman. She sighed and slowly turned around to face the Dark Brotherhood woman. “There. I killed one of them for you and my debt is repaid.”

“So it is.” The mystery woman tilted her head. “The feisty goodwife. Quite a mouth on her. Someone must have wanted her dead… right?”

“So who was it?” Zenotha clenched her jaw. “Who had the contract on them?”

“Ohh… No. That’s not what’s important. Don’t you understand? Guilt, innocence, right, wrong…. Irrelevant. What matters is I told you to kill… And you obeyed.”

“Wait so am I free to go?” Zenotha glance around the room. She was legitimately expecting a hidden assassin to jump out of the shadows and end it right there.

“Of course. And you’ve repaid your debt in full. You’ll have no more problems from us. Here’s the key to leave.” The woman popped her knuckles slowly and deliberately. “However I do have a proposition for you. My name is Astrid and I am in charge of the Dark Brotherhood in Skyrim. We’re all fans of your work. Word travels fast in Skyrim, and I know what you did to the assassin who was supposed to fulfill the contract on you. Replace him. I’d like to extend an invitation to join us… my family. In the southwest reaches of Skyrim, in the Pinewood forest, is our home. It’s hidden underneath the road. Find it, and when the Black Door asks you a question, respond with the correct passphrase: ‘Silence, my brother.’ It will make sense when you get there. And your new life will begin. I’ll see you at home.”

Astrid tossed the key at her. She barely caught it and looked down at it. Such an unremarkable key for something that literally was granting her freedom. She looked back up at Astrid, who merely gestured to the door. Not wanting to overstay her welcome with an assassins’ guild leader literally hovering over her, Zenotha bolted from the shack.

She couldn’t wait to explain all of this to Faendal.

Chapter Text

Zenotha slid into a vacant chair next to Farkas in the Jorrvaskr common room.

“So this Wuuthrad we put back together- forged by Yngol for his father Ysgramor?” Zenotha looked back as they reached the bottom. “But what else is it about this thing that makes it so important? Not to sound dismissive. This is all really new.”

“Well, the short version is that some of the first human settlers in Skyrim, the Atmorans, built a settlement called Saarthal. The remains of it are near Winterhold. One night, a group of snow elves invaded Saarthal, massacred the inhabitants, and burned the city to the ground in an event referred to as The Night Of Tears. Ysgramor and his sons Yngol and Ylgar survived and escaped. They returned with the Five Hundred Companions and retook the city. When they left, Yngol heated Ysgramor’s tears with lightning and forged Wuuthrad.”

“I heard rumors about a dig at Saarthal. Wonder what they found and if it has anything to do with that invasion.”

“There are many thoughts swirling around that. Some say Mehrunes Dagon drove the snow elves to do it by giving them dreams that made them more fearful of the Atmorans than they had been before. Other people say that since the snow elves only attacked Saarthal that they were looking for something specific that the Atmorans found.” Farkas took a long sip of his mead. “I don’t know what happened and I’m not sure that we’ll ever know for sure.”

“So who were the Atmorans? Early Nords?”

“We think so . Well, Imperials too.” He looked up, noticed something, and sat upright. A courier had just stumbled through the doors. The courier scanned the room and locked eyes with Zenotha. He crossed the room while digging in his satchel.

“There you are! You’re a tough woman to find. I’ve got something here, for your eyes only. Let’s see…..here it is.” The man held out a small parcel wrapped in roughspun burlap. He nodded to her and to Farkas, and turned to leave. He nearly collided with Aela.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you to watch where you’re going,” she snapped. She stormed off, sneering in basically everyone’s general direction.

“Oh come one, Aela. Who pissed in your oats this morning?” Vilkas sidestepped out of her way. She just scowled. The courier blinked a number of times, then hastily left. Zenotha turned her attention to the small parcel in her hand. Farkas did his best to look uninterested but she could feel his sideways glance. She tugged on the pretty ribbon that tied it closed. The fabric fell open to reveal a map, a small note, and a purple flower. ‘Mirinn,’ she thought. She raised the small flower to her nose and instantly relaxed. She didn’t even really like the flowers so much but these had always been Mirinn’s favorite. It was also how she communicated when she didn’t want to sign her name to something, so a small sliver of anxiety sprouted. She opened the note:

“I hope this has reached you safely. I don’t want to use names in case this falls into the wrong hands. In this parcel there is a map. It is the location of a lavish, furnished tower (Myrwatch) that has been abandoned. Rumor has it that it may be associated with the College of Winterhold. I’ve heard that numerous bandits and explorers alike have been attempting to claim it. I sent a friend to investigate and have not heard back. He knows only to find Elianora to unlock the tower. Go. Find him, and find Elianora.”

Zenotha frowned. Mirinn didn’t want to use their names but had no problem using 'Elianora.’ It had to be a code name for something. She also highly doubted that this friend of hers was still alive. People hired by Mirinn tended to be efficient, as the coin was usually substantial. No response usually meant no pulse. She glanced over at Farkas. If safety was a potential issue, he’d definitely be good to take along. Of course, whatever Farkas knew, Vilkas would know. And then Aela, and the rest of the Companions. No, she’d have to take Faendal. Or a complete outsider.

‘Wait,’ she thought. ‘There’s that elf mercenary at the Drunken Huntsman.’ Enough coin could ensure the woman’s silence… or explain her disappearance if necessary. She really needed Faendal in Falkreath to take care of a few things (and win her some favor with the Jarl). Plus, she’d be rather sad if anything happened to him during all of this… and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d helped cover up any unsavory actions, albeit reluctantly. ‘Yes,’ she thought. ‘The Dunmer woman will be perfect.’ She gently folded the cloth back over the map. She smelled the flower once more, and tucked it behind her ears. She smiled over at Farkas.

“Good news?” He asked.

“Mostly. Better than I was expecting.”

“Good.” Farkas smiled. Zenotha genuinely liked the man. The gruff demeanor was initially off-putting but he was one of the kindest, most loyal people she’d met in this mostly frigid hellhole. She just didn’t want a potential repeat of what happened to Skor, and what Farkas knew, they’d all know. She stood and stretched, nearly hitting Tilma in the face. The old woman chuckled at her and patted her on the back.

“You’ll be the death of me, girl.” She playfully swatted her ankles with her broom. “Take it easy on a poor old woman will you?”

“Sorry Tilma,” she chanted. “And if I’m ever the death of you, I promise to at least make it glorious for you.”

“They’ll sing songs of it in the mead halls, deary.” Tilma laughed until she wheezed. Zenotha shook her head and laughed to herself as she left Jorrvaskr. She shielded her eyes from a surprisingly bright sun. Braith and her friends were running and playing in the streets. She nearly collided with Mila. Heimskr was shouted something about the elves taking home and jobs away from the Nords, rising up against the Thalmor, blah blah blah…

“Watch it, old man,” she muttered. One of these days she was going to burn him to a crisp and not even care about the bounty. Hell, she’d honestly pay to be able to do it. Not today, though.

She made her way through the Whiterun market. Fresh fruit, fine cuts of meat, and Carlotta had even made some savory pastries. She waved to Zenotha and handed a small one to her as she passed. Zenotha eagerly shoved it into her mouth- it was cheese and apple, her absolute favorite. Day made, she caught herself truly smiling at everyone. Even the ever-arrogant Nazeem couldn’t bother her.

She rounded the corner and walked up the small stone path up to The Drunken Huntsman. She opened the door slightly too enthusiastically and a slight breeze blew in some leaves. Elrindr rolled his eyes and went back to polishing a piece of armor. She gave him a quick nod and walked over to the small alcove in the front of the shop. The Dunmer woman seated there surveyed her as she approached.

“You a mercenary? I have a job for you.” Zenotha cleared her throat.

“Blade and shadow, silence and death- these are my arts. For a modest fee, I’ll make great art for you.” The woman smirked. “I am Jenassa. What is this job you have for me?”

“I need someone who is fierce in battle and knows how to keep their mouth shut for good coin.” She eyed Jenassa’ bow. “500 gold to hire, 1000 when the job is completed and you return me to Tundra Homestead. My steward will be the one handling the latter, so no funny business if you want the full amount.”

“He’s your steward?” Jenassa scoffed. “I've seen him. He’s awfully well-armed for a steward.”

“I admit he’s primarily a travel companion. He’s equally proficient in homestead matters when I have to be away. This is one of those times.” She sighed. “Do you want the job or not?”

“What, so it’s a glorified escort mission? What’s the catch? 1500 gold seems a little pricey for you.”

“I don’t know what we’re going to find. I have a lead on a location of interest but my contact wouldn’t use names in the letter, so it’s possibly going to be very dangerous. It could just as easily not be, but there’s a missing friend and bandits and maybe a tie to the College of Winterhold. I’m asking you to take a lot on faith and I’m not naive enough to think this is going to be a cheap hire. Of course, if you think it’s too much, I can just stick to your rate. You know, for a third of the gold.”

“Did I say pricey? I mean incredibly fair.”

“That’s what I thought. We leave now.” Zenotha gestured to the bow on the table. “We’re heading to Morthal.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

The two elves drudged through the wet sand as the sky dimmed. As tragic of a city as Morthal was, it was equally beautiful. She picked a number of deathbell as they walked in silence. After a matter of moments, the outline of a tall stone tower appeared. Zenotha looked around and saw absolutely no sign of bandits, mages, or any other threat, and that concerned her even more than any of those would have. Her left hand erupted in sparks as she tried to stay calm and look around for any sign of a threat.

As they approached the tower, a familiar clicking sound drifted from the dark. ‘Chaurus,’ she thought. ‘This can’t possibly be why Mirinn’s contact went silent… can it?’

“Chaurus!” Jenassa shouted. She let loose a single arrow and the clicking was replaced by a wet thunk. Zenotha looked back at her and back in the direction where the sounds originated. They kept going, slowly, waiting for any sign of danger, but none came. “Wait, over there- is that a body?”

“Where?” Zenotha squinted. She could faintly make out a figure with blonde hair, probably a Nord, next to a tree. She knew in her gut that this had to be Mirinn’s friend. Suddenly, she realized she had no idea how to get in contact with Mirinn. How was she going to be able to tell her? ‘First things first,’ she thought.

They approached the body carefully. He was lying next to a burnt out torch, an empty wine bottle, an axe, and a journal. Zenotha picked up the journal and leafed through it. “Wait, Jenassa, look at this. ‘When the eye is doused in flame, the hair will light the way.’ what the fuck does that even mean?”

“I don’t know but please don’t burn any hair. I hate the smell.” Jenassa’s face soured. Zenotha snickered.

“Oh, Mirinn, what the hell am I supposed to do?” She wrung her hands. Then, something caught her eye- a symbol of an eye on the bridge leading to the doorway of the tower. “When the eye is doused in flame, eh?”

Her left hand switched from sparks to fire and she used it to scorch the symbol. Then, she stood back and waited for something… anything to happen. A few seconds later, an apparition of a rabbit appeared. It seemed to look directly at her, then hopped over to a round stone well. After one more glance, the rabbit hopped inside the well and a tunnel of blue light erupted. The doors to the tower opened. Zenotha ran over to well. The rabbit was gone. She sighed and turned back towards the tower. “So this is Myrwatch, huh?”

“Is that what they call this place?” Jenassa squinted up at the top of the tower. “I gotta say, this job is way easier than you made it sound.”

“Listen I didn’t know this was going to go like this. My friend was genuinely concerned about all of this. I highly doubt she thought it was a fucking chaurus of all things. She said she’d caught wind of various bandit groups trying to gain access and seemed to think we’d have a lot worse to face. Even I’m kind of surprised that it was this easy. The suspense was definitely built up more than it should have been.”

“Well, I guess we don’t know what’s inside.” Jenassa gestured. “Let’s find out.”

The two women walked into the tower and stopped in awe. It was fully furnished and supplied. Three made beds sat along the wall, each one topped with a fine fur blanket. There was a seating area in the middle, with tall cushioned chairs and fancy pillows on furs on the floor. The room easily contained a dozen bookcases and tables full of books, food, tableware, and more. The fire pit was lit and the fire warmed the entire main area. The symbol on the bridge outside was displayed on large heavy banners between the stone pillars and a window across from the front door. They circled around to the left and found a mysterious blue portal in a doorway making an unusual echoing ring. Zenotha looked back at Jenassa and pointed towards it. Jenassa shrugged and nodded. Zenotha held her breath and walked into the portal. A bright light flashed and suddenly she was in another room, what seemed like an upstairs. Directly in front of her was an arcane enchanter. A giant glowing blue orb in an intricate iron was hanging from the ceiling and cast the room in a cool glow. The walls were filled with weapon racks and dotted with armor mannequins.

Jenassa appeared behind her with a hollow ‘pop’ sound. “Oh gods would you look at all this.”

“It’s beautiful.” Zenotha’s eyes widened. They walked around, looking at everything. A small garden area was behind the enchanting table, with ingredients already growing. There was an alchemy table, a small forge and a tanning rack. There were ingots, flowers, ingredients, and barrels of food. They passed between several racks and display cases and came upon a curious display of busts- thirteen, to be exact, though three were different from the others. They all had interesting carvings. Zenotha ran her fingers over one of the blank faces and discovered that they had grooves on the sides, as if for displaying masks. On either side of the display were fine silk curtains with heavy tassels. Whatever this display was for was clearly significant ad had piqued her curiosity.

“What are these even for?” Jenassa sounded mildly concerned.

“I’m not sure. But I’ve heard tales of ancient Dragon Priests who wore carved wooden masks. And I bet they go on these heads. And I bet that we can find them all.”

“Dragon Priests. You want to find Dragon Priests and take their masks?”

“Well you said this job was too easy. Sounds like it just got interesting.” Zenotha smirked and wagged her finger at her. “What do you say, m’lady?”

Jenassa grinned. “You’re on, boss.”

Chapter Text

“Honored to see you, my Thane.” Rayya was in a pleasant mood, as always. She’d been crucial help in getting the building of Lakeview Manor off the ground… literally. The budget for the house had gotten quite tight- Zenotha hadn’t done as many jobs in the last few weeks as normal so the purse wasn’t as full. Faendal was now her full-time steward, much to the relief of Camilla, who could now see him regularly and not worry excessively about him. Jenassa was now her default travel companion and the two had grown to be quite good friends. She had a feeling Faendal didn’t much approve of Jenassa as his replacement but even he had to admit she was a better fit, esp since Zenotha had started doing more work for the Dark Brotherhood in the last month since she found Myrwatch. Faendal had proven to be incredibly savvy in all sorts of business related to running the household- in the two weeks that the project had been going on, the house was nearly completely built and all of the necessary furnishings had either already arrived or had at least been ordered. Even unfinished, she was able to house and feed herself, Rayya, Faendal, and Jenassa. Quite comfortably, even.

She finished putting together her pack. She was going to go to Anga’s Mill to order some lumber since she had to swing by Windhelm anyway. Of course by “swing by,” she meant carry out the second part of a contract she’d been assigned- a woman named Muiri hired her to kill an ex-lover but had offered her a bonus to kill an old friend as well. Therefore, Nilsine Shatter-Shield was going to die. It sounded like it may have been a sad story, really, but she didn’t have the liberty of sympathizing with these people. It would be painfully simple- be invited into the home and poison her with the lotus extract. She happened to know the girl always kept a jug of wine next to her bed since she’d gone into mourning over Friga’s sudden and brutal death.

Jenassa clearing her throat cut into her thoughts. Even with Bjorlam’s carriage, it was going to be a long trip up from Whiterun. They needed to get going. Zenotha gave Lydia a quick wave and they headed out. The instant the door closed behind them, Jenassa let out a growl of frustration.

“You have GOT to be kidding me with Lydia. She’s insufferable,” she groaned.

“Why do you think I usually stay at the OTHER Whiterun house?” Zenotha rolled her eyes. “The last thing I need is the Thane of righteousness clutching her pearls when I come back from a job with a little too much gold and blood in my hair. Plus she’s entirely too uptight and too serious. She’s be great at her job for someone else.”

“Agreed.” Jenassa sighed. They walked the rest of the way to Bjorlam’s carriage in silence. He waved at them and chuckled. “Windhelm, please.”

The duo climbed up into the carriage. Bjorlam clicked at his horse and they started moving. Jenassa looked Zenotha directly in the eye.

“There’s a Nord man in Markarth who watches you, you know.” She smirked. Zenotha crinkled her face.

“WATCHES me? That’s creepy.”

“Not in a creepy way. He doesn’t follow you or anything. And he seems embarrassed if I catch him looking at you for too long.”

“Is there a point to all of this?”

“Yes. The point is that there is a Nord man in Markarth…”

“Stop. Just stop.”

“I think you should talk to him is all.” Jenassa shrugged. “Or I can, if you don’t want to.”

“Bitch you better fucking not.” Zenotha glared at her. “And shame on you for trying to corner me into doing this.”

“Alright, alright. You have a point.” Jenassa held her hands up in mock surrender. “But next time we’re there I bet you 25 gold that you catch him.”

“Oh we’re making it a BET now. You squirrely bitch.” Zenotha laughed. “Fine, 25 gold if you’re right. I get 50 if you’re wrong, so you better be sure.”

“He’s pretty cute, too…”

“DAMMIT JENASSA!” Zenotha’s faux disgusted face sent them both into a fit of giggles. “Besides, what am I supposed to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Whatever you want. Hell, have him as your side business when you’re there. You’re a killer, not dead.”

“Absolutely not. That’s how people catch feelings and then it turns into this big ugly emotional mess and I’m out here just trying to kill people and steal shit for a living.” Zenotha raised an eyebrow. “Wow I do NOT make myself sound good.”

“Who cares if you sound good. They all hate us for being elves anyway, may as well enjoy life and get rich.”

“Speaking of which, I’ve been invited to the Blue Palace in Solitude. I got an anonymous letter that they’re dealing with something that may require our help. I don’t want us to look like scruffy beggars, so I arranged with Radiant Raiments to fit us with some fine clothes. We’ll need them for other appearances too, anyway. We're also going to a wedding next week. The more Jarls and nobles we rub elbows with, the more face we have to put up. There is apparently a catch, but Taarie’s going to cut us quite a deal apparently.”

“Hey, you can wear your new fancy dress when you go meet your new Nord boyfriend!”

“I fucking hate you sometimes.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha let out an exasperated sigh as the dragon fell to the ground, finally dead after a lengthy battle. Kodrir and Leifur had both been killed and Aeri had been knocked aside by the dragon’s tail. Jenassa had a long gash across her face and one of Zenotha’s hands had a sharp, deep cut on the palm.

“Are you girls alright?” Aeri slowly got to her feet.

“Yep,” Zenotha answered.

“That was impressive,” the Nord woman said hesitantly.

“Oh just wait for the best part.” She sighed again and held up three fingers in a slow countdown. Upon returning her hand to a fist, a swirl of bright light flowed from the dragon’s corpse and enveloped her, culminating in a bright sort of sunburst. No more than the dragon’s skeleton remained. Aeri’s jaw dropped open. “Yeah, yeah, it’s like the old stories, blah… and yes I can shout.”

“So you’re the one the Greybeards summoned…”

“I mean, maybe. I haven’t gone up there yet, admittedly.”

“But…. why not?” Aeri looked baffled.

“I have a lot of other things to do. A lot of people to help… albeit some in interesting or marginally illegal ways.”

“Zenotha!” Jenassa groaned. “You’re not subtle are you?”

“Shush. Anyway, I’m just here to buy lumber. Doing some building on a house.”

“I’ll… I can… I’ll send it over to the property. How many logs?’ Aeri was clearly still baffled.

“I think 60 will do. Once this house is built I hope to have another to start on.”

“Wait, what?” It was Jenassa’s turn to be baffled. “Since when are you a real estate mogul?”

“Yeah, I have my eyes set on two other properties. I’d ideally like to have a home in each hold so I don’t have to go halfway across Skyrim to fall into a bed I own.”

“Well you know in Markarth, there’s…” Zenotha backhanded her playfully without looking at her, forgetting about the gash. Jenassa winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me see if this will help.” Zenotha focused intently on the gash. Both hands started glowing, similarly to the effect made when she absorbed dragon souls. “This might hurt a little but won’t hurt as much as the cut itself.”

She put her hands on either side of the wounds. The glow surrounded the gash and it slowly closed itself inch by inch. When she pulled her hands away, there was still a mark where the gash had been. “Muiri should be able to whip up a salve we can put on that, I think.”

“So you mean…” Jenassa coughed. “That we’re going to…”

“I’m going to straight up murder you if you don’t stop.” She turned her attention to Aeri. “Here, I’ll mark on this map where the lumber is to be delivered. It’s far, I know, so I’ll pay extra for the delivery.”

Aeria frowned when she saw Zenotha put a mark in Falkreath. “Falkreath has plenty of lumber. Why do you come all the way up to me?”

“Well, to be honest, the man who runs the mill in Falkreath is pretty vocally racist. Like literally every time I pass him, he has to let me know how he can’t believe people like me are allowed to live in Skyrim. I know you’re not a fan of elves either but you at least have the decency not to let it show.” Aeri’s eyes widened. “Yes, I know all about your father and how he died in the Great War. I’m in a business were knowing things is money gained. I’m sure if I were in your shoes, I’d be resentful too. But you seem to try not to let it cloud your judgement, and that’s a small blessing I don’t get from a lot of people in Skyrim.”

“I’m… I’m sorry. “ Aeri looked genuinely bothered. “I know I need to be better.”

“I can’t tell you what to think. Honestly I shouldn’t have even brought it up. I should have said I came here because I had business in Windhelm because I did. But here I am flapping my gums.” Zenotha shook her head. “Come on, Jenassa, we have more important things to do.”

“I’ll send over the lumber as soon as we get it cut.” Aeri half-bowed as the two women set off back towards Windhelm. She turned her attention to her two workers who lay dead next to the woodcutting block. She was only alive because of an elf, and an elf that was risking her life to protect Skyrim from an unknown evil force- a lot more than Ulfric was doing.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Taarie scowled at the last line of beading she was sewing onto the dress Zenotha had requested. She’d thrown ridiculous amounts of gold to the shop for this and Taarie wouldn’t allow anything less than perfection to leave. Zenotha had actually managed to get them some orders from Jarl Elisif herself and the court, more than Taarie or Endarie could have hoped for. She’d even found some unusual jewelry pieces on her travels that she’d sold them for far less than they were worth for them to resell. Taarie almost felt bad for how she’d initially treated her, except it seemed to roll right off Zenotha’s back. She almost reminded Taarie of what she’d thought she’d be as an adult- bold, witty, funny, strong, traveling the world….

She shook herself out of her wandering thoughts and focused back on the beading in front of her. She was almost done, so close she could taste it. It was honestly some of her better work, she had to admit. Zenotha had said she was wearing it to the wedding of Vittoria Vici next week. Taarie could only imagine how many important nobles would see it, and maybe want garments of their own. She glanced over at the dress she’d made for Zenotha’s companion Jenassa. She was actually happy to be making these for other elves this time instead of Nords again. The Nord man who had been in earlier that week had been flat out cruel to her. So cruel, in fact, that Zenotha herself had overheard the diatribe and stood between them to defend her. The jokes Zenotha made about the man’s compensating for his privates was a little distasteful to her, but a few days later when he picked up his garments, he was noticeably less cruel to her, even complimenting her on her work.

‘Wow my standards are low,’ she thought.

The faint sound of the door to the shop opening and closing got her to focus. She knotted off the end of the thread and stood back to admire the finished product. She turned around just as Zenotha walked into the room and immediately lit up.

“Oh this is perfect!” She ran her fingers along the fur cape. “This is even more than I asked for. I love it.”

“I’m glad.” Taarie forced herself to keep a serious face. “I want only the finest product to be worn at the wedding of such a notable person as Vittoria Vici. The emperor’s cousin must only have the finest in attendance.”

“Agreed. It’s going to be a big day for more than one reason.” Zenotha clapped her hands. “And Jenassa’s is done as well?”

“Yes, over there,” she said. She nodded towards the corner. “I can have them wrapped and ready for you to take with you today, if you like.”

“Excellent. I’m going to step outside for a moment.” She smiled and left the room as quietly as she’d entered.

Taarie smiled broadly to herself, day made.

Chapter Text

Zenotha straightened the fur capelet over her dress. Taarie had made both her and Jenassa gorgeous gowns for Vittoria’s wedding. They would fit in with the crowd perfectly, or so she hoped. They were taking a risk going in with gowns instead of full armor but she’d decided that stealth would be their advantage on this one- it wouldn’t do to barge into a wedding celebration in the distinctive armor of an assassins’ guild. Besides, they still had some basics underneath the gowns. She glanced over at the door as Jenassa entered the room with Veezara close behind her.

“Alright, now remember. Jenassa and I have been seen together entirely too much for us to be there inconspicuously. You two act like you like each other enough to be wedding dates. Jen, where is my date?” She rolled her eyes. She had a feeling she knew who it was.

“He should be here any minute. 500 gold hopefully motivated him enough to be here AND keep his mouth shut.”

“I hope so. I’m not even sure we need him but anything to divert suspicion, I guess.” Zenotha popped the knuckles on her left hand. She pulled them together and placed Jenassa’s hand in Veezara’s. “Be honest. It’s the guy from Markarth, isn’t it?”

“How…. How’d you know?”

“Who the fuck else would it be? You’ve only been dogging me about him for two and a half months. Besides, I saw you talking to him in there when I was asking about Weylin’s attack.” Zenotha raised an eyebrow. “You may be a badass but subtlety apparently isn’t really your thing.”

“Listen. He’s a Nord. We’re already marching in with two elves and an Argonian. It can’t hurt to have a member of the status quo with us.”

“Doesn’t he have a very distinct tattoo on his face? And how much does he know?”

“A tattoo that they’re going to recognize here in Solitude? And not much really, just that there could potentially be some chaos. He’s definitely okay with potential chaos. Hell he may have even giggled.”

“You know I just want this to go as smoothly and quietly as it can.” She wrung her hands. “This isn’t going to be easy to talk our way out of if it goes badly. And I prefer to reserve bribes for more desperate times. Do you really think he can roll with us if shit goes down?”

“How are you going to do it? You have to kill her in front of everyone, right? Not going to be easy to do ‘smoothly and quietly’ unfortunately.”

“I do have one idea,” Zenotha said. “The wedding will be primarily focused in the courtyard outside of the Temple of the Divines. There is a staircase that leads to a door that leads to battlements overlooking the courtyard. I’m thinking sneak up there and wait until I can get a clear shot. Then I can duck back into the temple before anyone even looks up.”

“I sure hope you’re right.” Veezara spoke up. He looked remarkably uncomfortable about the whole thing. “I have my armor on underneath these clothes and Astrid told me to stay behind if anything escalates. You two hurry and get back to the Sanctuary.”

“Did Lisette get a bow planted in the upstairs room at the Temple of the Divines?”

“She did.” Veezara nodded. “The gold you provided was honestly probably enough to get her to kill Vittoria herself.”

“So we wait for our Markarth friend then and we’ll be good to go?”

“Yes.” Jenassa grinned.

“I hate you, sometimes, you know.” Zenotha frowned.

“Hello?” They all turned towards the door. A tall Nord man filled the doorway. Zenotha immediately noticed the incredibly distinct facial tattoo- sort of a red curved tree branch. Jenassa had set him up with some fine clothes and he looked completely different in them, much to Zenotha’s relief.

“Hello! Vorstag, correct?” Zenotha held out a hand. He shook it hesitantly.

“Yes.”

“Not a man of words, eh? Fine. Well we’re running out of time to make this look casual. It’s a long story, Vorstag. I’m not sure how much you know but you are ‘escorting’ me to the wedding and Veezara is walking in my friend Jenassa here. Talk, mingle, eat, dance, whatever. At some point you may see some minor chaos. Just remain calm and follow us if we leave.”

“Sounds good. Do I even want to know…”

“NO.” All three assassins said simultaneously. Vorstag was briefly stunned.

“Just go along with it. We’re paying you to stand around and be pretty. I mean…. well… No, I mean that.” She shooed him out of the way. “Jen, you and Veezara go now. Make sure Elisif sees you being social and friendly. Vorstag and I will follow in a few minutes.”

Jenassa smiled and the change in her posture changed almost immediately. She linked her arm through Veezara’s. “Come on, love. We’re going to a wedding.”

Zenotha snickered as the two walked out and looked over at Vorstag. He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Ugh, why did I agree to this’ she thought. ‘This gold better be worth it.’ She smiled awkwardly and held her arm out. She smirked when he took it and they casually strolled out of the room slowly.

“So, Vorstag. How does it feel to be attending the wedding of the Emperor’s cousin?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “This is definitely more exciting than anything that’s happened in Markarth recently. And that’s saying something.”

He laughed heartily. “I mean, a woman nearly getting murdered in the market by a supposed Forsworn was a pretty big deal but I agree that this probably edges that out a little.”

They walked up the stone ramp leading up to the Temple of the Divines. A couple of children ran past them, selling flowers and sweets. Zenotha stopped to buy a purple flower from one of the girls, who squealed in delight at making a sale.

They could faintly hear the music in the courtyard. She hugged Vorstag’s arm closer to her and put on her most convincing smile. She felt him relax slightly and he attempted to match her stride. A gust of wind blew the corner of her capelet into her face. She blindly swatted at it with no luck. He in turn swatted her hand out of the way and pushed it down. “Wow you’re way more uncoordinated than I would expect…”

“Oh shut up! Listen…” She laughed. “I’m right-handed and you’re holding that arm so don’t expect shit from me.”

“Ah, the great and mighty Dragonborn- defeated by holding down her right arm! I must be the greatest warrior in Tamriel!” He jokingly bellowed and flexed an arm. Zenotha snorted. “Behold, Vorstag, bravest of the Nords!”

“Talos is shivering in his boots, I’m sure.”

“You better believe it!” He gave her a thumbs up and a goofy grin.

“Make sure they still speak highly of me at my funeral, then. I can’t have people thinking anyone but the mightiest bested me. I have a made-up reputation to uphold, you know.”

“Well, a made-up reputation is really all we have in the end.”

“Agreed. I think. I mean, no one was afraid of me when I was just a scrubby little elf trying to sneak across the border. Hell, I think I was a bump in the road for them, almost literally, if anything.” She rolled her eyes. “But look at me now- bogeyman to bandits and Thalmor alike. And temporary arm candy of the mightiest of the mighty Nords, Vorstag, at the wedding of the Emperor’s cousin. Makes for a great story.”

“How’s it end, though?” He squeezed her arm, almost immediately looking awkward.

“Oh, they’ll be telling this story for decades.” She smirked, somewhat evilly. “Here we are.”

She strode confidently into the courtyard,practically pulling him behind her. A brief glance around showed Veezara and Jenassa chatting to Aquillius Aresius in a corner. Jenassa laughed at something he said and casually glanced over to make eye contact, and looked away just as seamlessly. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Jarl Elisif. She freed herself from Vorstag’s arm and motioned for him to follow her over to the woman. Elisif smiled as they approached.

“Your Grace!” Zenotha bowed slightly. “It’s so good to see you here on such a joyous occasion. My friend here didn’t believe that we were acquainted. He especially didn’t believe that we became acquainted when Queen Potema’s followers were trying to summon her and then I had to fight her spirit. Can you believe it? Like either of us would make that up!”

“Oh! Well it is quite the story. I wouldn’t believe it either had I not seen the proof.”

“Jarl Elisif, this is Vorstag of Markarth. He was there when the supposed Forsworn incident happened. Vorstag, Jarl Elisif is the widow of the late High King Torygg and Jarl of Solitude.”

“I’m honored to meet you, Your Grace.”

“And I’m honored to meet you. I have many questions about the Forsworn attack, and those who live about The Reach. May I ask you about them?”

“Of course. What would you like to know?” Vorstag offered Elisif an arm, which she took. They started walking towards the corner opposite Jenassa and Veezara.

“While you two catch up, I’d like to go make an offering to Mara on behalf of the couple. I shall return.” Zenotha nodded. “Excuse me.”

They both nodded back and Zenotha calmly turned and entered the Temple of the Divines. Silana was just inside the door and smiled broadly when she saw her. Zenotha walked past her towards the shrines. As she approached the shrines, she peered up at the stained glass windows, sunlight pouring through them as if the bride weren’t about to meet a horrific, public death. She sighed quietly. For a brief moment, she remembered the Temple of the Divines back home. Her mother scolding her quietly for having brought her doll in with her for her aunt’s wedding, and the priestess saying it was alright, that she would give the doll a blessing so it could stay. The same priestess catching her stealing an offering flower, and telling her it was alright, that Mara would understand she only wanted it for its beauty, but also that she could have asked for it.

She shook herself out of her daydream. Mara had no place in this situation. She reminded herself of when she saw Vittoria strike one of the orphan children playing in the streets when the girl ran into her and knocked a package of good out of her arms. One of her rings gashed the girl’s face, and she ran past Zenotha with tears and blood streaming down her face. Where was Mara then? Where were ANY of the Divines then? Sithis, however, was at least fair. Regardless of race, gender, creed, wealth or lack thereof… death came to all. And it was her job today to bring it to Vittoria Vici. She sneered to herself and turned on her heel. She stopped herself short, though.

“I’m sorry, lady Mara.” She turned back around and dug the flower she’d bought out of her pack. She awkwardly reached out and placed it in front of the shrine. She turned back around after a brief pause and crossed the hall to the stairs, sneaking up them while Silana wasn’t looking. She reached the small sitting room at the top of the steps and stopped. She looked around the room, but couldn’t see the planted bow anywhere. She looked behind all the chairs and even pulled out the bookshelf. It had vanished. Or maybe it had not been there to begin with.

“Uh-oh.” She took a deep breath, trying not to panic. “Oh no…. Really? What the fuck.”

The sounds of cheering outside flared her anxiety. She knew she had to improvise, and fast. She poked her head around the corner and saw a large door. Curious, she walked over and opened it, pleased that it led out onto the roof. She crouched down and peered down to get her bearings. Vittoria and Asgeir were seated in thrones down in the courtyard with their guests mingling around them. Above them was a small balcony, where she suspect Vittoria would address her guests. She crawled along the roof, intermittently looking down to see if she were above it yet. When she finally reached the part of the roof directly above the balcony, she leaned against the gargoyle she hid behind. To her surprise, it seemed to wobble at her touch. She grinned wickedly to herself. This. This would be the way. Now all she had to do was wait.

By the eight, she was hungry.

‘Why now? Really?’ she thought. Her stomach growled. ‘I’ll feed you when I’m down assassinating the Emperor’s cousin, okay? Geez.’

“Honored guests. I just wanted to take this time to thank you all for being here,” Vittoria said. “To thank you for sharing this wonderfully happy day with me and my new husband.”

‘Showtime,’ Zenotha thought. She glanced down. Vittoria was on the balcony. Instincts kicked in. She edged the gargoyle forward slowly. She took a deep breath and pushed it forward, rolling herself backwards in the same movement. The undeniable sound of crunching stone and bones was music to her ears. She grinned and rolled over onto her stomach, creeping over to hide behind the low wall. The guests were screaming and shouting. She quickly glanced over the wall to see if she could spot any of the others. Jenassa was feigning distress and Veezara had a sword readied and hidden in his robes. Vorstag must be beneath her…. Or maybe gone. She scurried along the low wall and pried open the door leading back into the Temple of the Divines. She leaned back against it and took a quick inventory of the situation. Flames flared out of her left hand and she slowly walked around the corner back towards the steps. She half-expected guards to run up to her at any second. When she reached the bottom of the stairs and no guards had come, she sheathed her flames, took another deep breath, contorted face to look panicked, and walked out directly into the middle of the chaos. She looked around at the chaos, her gaze falling on the wrecked wedding thrones in front of her- the gargoyle had taken out the bannister of the balcony and Vittoria’s bloody, mangled body had come crashing down with it. Her once white dress was crimson red and Zenotha could even faintly smell her blood. Suddenly a man came rushing over to her from her peripheral and grabbed her. She inhaled sharply, ready to Shout at him but she realized it was Vorstag.

“Darling! Thank the Eight you were inside praying! You’re safe.” He pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. “We need to leave. Now. Play along. I have an idea how to get you out of here.”

“Vorstag! Oh lady Mara. Please, I feel like I might faint. My corset…too tight...” she trailed off and went limp, pretending to pass out. Vorstag hoisted her up carefully. He carried her past the panicked and screaming guests, and out of the courtyard. She cracked an eye open no more than a slit, trying to catch any glimpse of Jenassa or Veezara behind them with no luck. ‘Please let them be alright, please…’

“Please, let me pass!” Vorstag shouted at passers by. “My lady has fainted at the ghastly sight of what just happened. I need to get her to the inn!”

Zenotha kept her eyes closed until she heard the series of distinct sounds of the various inn doors and then their room door close. Vorstag set her down awkwardly. “I’m sorry, are you alright? That looked uncomfortable. It was the first thing I could think to do, though.”

“Are you kidding? That was brilliant. Way to think on your feet. Did you know that we… that I… was going to kill her?”

“I had a feeling when none of you would tell me anything in detail.” He shrugged. “I have to say, the gargoyle wasn’t what I was expecting though. Bravo.”

Veezara and Jenassa came crashing into the room behind them. Zenotha looked over at them. Jenassa looked overwhelmingly relieved. Veezara looked severely disappointed.

“Did you already tell him that was brilliant? I had no idea how we’d get you out of there, especially once the gargoyle hit. Which, by the way, was excellent, but what the hell happened to using a bow?” Jenassa was practically glowing with excitement.

“It was gone.”

“What? GONE?” Jenassa’s face fell.

“I looked everywhere for it. I have no idea what happened. I had to improvise.”

“Well as far as improvisation goes, this was pretty monumental.” Jenassa beamed. She looked over at Vorstag. “And seriously, way to think on your feet. I was so worried. Not that Zen couldn’t have just charmed her way out but I agree with her that we need to reserve that for when it’s absolutely necessary.”

“I also agree. I would have enjoyed fighting alongside you, but living to fight another day is best.”

“Alright, so when do we get the hell out of Solitude?” Vorstag piped up. “As convincing as I may or may not have been, we shouldn’t hang around here too long.”

“Well we feigned me fainting and needing assistance so I don’t think we should be too quick to leave. Jen and Vazeera should leave first, and then we can follow the next day. I should probably be seen mingling around as if I’m still weak. Vorstag, I’ll give you some gold to pay for another night, and you two, I’ll give you gold for Thaer’s carriage and for food wherever you want to stop. We need to be seen acting normally for a bit, and make sure that we’re seen.” She sighed. “I can’t thank you two enough for coming with me and having my back. And you, Vorstag, for really being how we pulled this off. I know Jenassa just kinda plucked you out of Markarth and threw you into… this.”

“Veezara and I can head out now. I think the sooner we split up, the better.” Jenassa put her hand on Veezara’s arm. He nodded.

“Safe travels, landstriders.”

“I’ll see you when I get back to Falkreath.” Zenotha smiled as they turned and left the room. She glance over at Vorstag.

“I’m fucking starving,” he said. She grinned.

They were going to get along just fine.

Chapter Text

Zenotha was grateful for the covered carriage Faendal had arranged for her and Jenassa. The snow was just heavy enough that she didn’t want to have to sit under a pile of blankets on Bjorland’s carriage and freeze half to death. She’d been concerned for the horse until they walked out of Tundra Homestead to see him frolicking in the snow as the driver tried to hitch the carriage to him. She’d been content to watch- it reminded her a little of her childhood- long days running barefoot in the sand with pets and siblings to avoid chores. When the horse settled down, however, it was back to the present day. She gathered her furs closer around her and gestured for Jenassa to follow. They both climbed into the carriage and Zenotha knocked on the divider between them and the driver for them to leave.

“We’re going to Markarth first,” Zenotha said. “I told Bolli I would deliver a purchase order to Kleppr. Super easy. Oh, and then I have to murder Commander Maro’s son and frame him for treason. You know, just some quick errands.”

“Wait you have to KILL COMMANDER MARO’S SON?”

“Can you not announce it?” Zenotha hissed. “I like this carriage driver, I’d prefer not to have to kill him.”

“Oh, like he can hear us.”

“I’d rather not find out, okay?” Zenotha rolled her eyes. “Anyway, so I managed to filch Gaius Maro’s schedule. We’ll be arriving on Turdas afternoon. We’ll have time to get settled in Vlindrel Hall and get comfortable. I’m going to stage an encounter Fredas, either in the marketplace or maybe even in Understone Keep.”

“Stage an encounter?” Jenassa furrowed her brow.

“Yep. I gotta get close enough to him to place the letter on him, so I have to be close when I kill him. I can’t reliably get him from afar and then hope I can close the distance between us. If I’m going to be that close, I’ll be seen if I’m attacking him. Basically, I have to get him to attack me. If he attacks me, bam. I can ‘defend’ myself and justify saying that I’m trying to help him when I’m really planting the letter on him.”

“Are you sure it’s going to work?”

“I hope. If it goes south, I’m a Thane and can bribe the guards. Hence why we’re doing it there and not right over here,” she said, pointing out the window towards Whiterun. “I don’t need to cause any problems for the Companions.”

“Aww, how considerate of you.”

“Shut up.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Keep back, citizen. I have important business I must attend to.” Gaius Maro looked her up and down and sneered. “The likes of you wouldn’t understand its importance so just get out of the way.”

“You must be Gaius Maro,” Zenotha purred. She stepped closer and reciprocated the glance. She held up her fist and opened it to reveal the mark of Sithis she had painted on her palm. “You should be careful out on the road. I hear it can be quite hazardous to one’s health…”

“Is that a threat? By the eight, I’ll cleave that arrogant head from your shoulders!’ He hissed. He drew his sword and lunged at her. She screamed and scrambled backwards, putting her hands up in front of her to deflect damage.

“Help! Help me, he’s going to kill me!” Sparks erupted from her hands and she looked away, as if she couldn’t bear to see what was happening. Blood poured out of Gaius’ nose and mouth as he convulsed and fell down at her feet. She contorted her face into what she hoped looked horrified. “By the eight! What have I done?”

The shouts of the guards reached her ears and she knew she only had a matter of seconds. She knelt down and pretended to check for a pulse as she slipped the forged letter into one of his armor pockets. Vorstag came running down the stairs from Vlindrel Hall, also shouting.

“Thane Zenotha! What happened? Are you alright? I told you you shouldn’t be traveling alone. Where is Jenassa?” His face was contorted into such a convincing look of concern that even she was impressed.

“I’m alright, Vorstag. Jenassa stepped into the inn to deliver a purchase order. It’s fine.”

“What is this?” One of the guards shouted. He had found the forged letter. “This say ‘Nothing will stand between your men and his eminence. He will die by Stormcloak hands, and neither my father nor your great leader Ulfric will know anything is amiss until it is too late.’ By the eight, we need to warn Solitude before he arrives!.”

“I will do it,” Zenotha said. “I am going there to speak to Jarl Elisif and Falk Firebeard. I may as well give them this information, as well.”

“Not without some rest first!” Vorstag rubbed her hands and put his hand on her forehead as if to check for a fever. He was hilariously good at this. Best 500 gold she’d ever spent in her life.

“I’ll grab some sleep in the carriage. You come along to help Jenassa guard me. But I have to do this for the safety of the Emperor. I have no choice.”

“Yes, your Grace.” He gave the little half-bow he’d begun incorporating into the conversations they had for show. He was a relatively perfect partner in crime. A little too perfect.

‘Wait,’ she thought. ‘Bad Zenotha. BAD. He works for you. Knock it off.’

“Send for my things,” she said. “I need my good bow, my armor, and three of my good dresses. And my fur stoles. And a couple of pillows. Just… figure it out.”

Jenassa’s exit from the inn was perfectly timed. She came running over shouting and looked shocked at the scene before her and rushed to Zenotha’s side. “My Thane, I’m so sorry I was not here to protect you. I’m very grateful that you’re alright. What happened?”

“I was talking to him about being in Markarth and out of nowhere he just went berserk. Came after me with his sword and it was all I could do to stop him. Turns out he was plotting against the Emperor!”

“Plotting against the Emperor?” Jenassa’s fake concern wasn’t quite as good as Vorstag’s but could easily be brushed off as gruffness.”

“Yes. We’re headed to Solitude as soon as possible. We’ve got to warn them.”

“I’m with you, my Thane. As well is Vorstag.”

“I know.” Zenotha gave her a quick smirk and let herself be led out of the marketplace.

* * * * * * * * * * *

It was all Zenotha could do to keep from sighing impatiently. What was supposed to be a small audience with Elisif had turned into a huge dinner banquet in Zenotha’s honor. She knew she would be asked about Gaius in front of the dozen or so other guests and was nervous that they might ask too many questions. She hadn’t planned for this. Why didn’t she plan for this?

The other guests made up a sort of “who’s who” of Skyrim. Maven Black-Briar looked as annoyed as Zenotha was, talking to Brynjolf while regularly shooting disapproving looks at Jarl Laila Law-Giver for whatever reason that probably only made sense to her. Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone was regaling Bryling and Falk Firebeard with the greatly exaggerated tale of Zenotha defeating Movarth and his hoard of followers, all while fighting a dragon. Zenotha noticed Bryling and Falk seemed to be sitting quite close together, with one regularly brushing the hand of the other. ‘Scandalous,’ she thought, storing the information away in the back of her mind. Calcelmo and Faleen sat opposite of Bryling and Falk, chatting away. She could swear the Faleen was actually glowing. ‘Pregnant?’ she thought. ‘Maybe. Keep an eye on that.’

Jenassa had moved to sit next to Elisif and was attempting to keep the woman’s attention away from Zenotha with a story of their last visit to a Dwemer ruin. A burst of high-pitched laughter erupted from the Jarl and Zenotha cringed slightly. Jenassa was gesturing wildly along with the story and kept Elisif giggling for what seemed like ages.

It was then that Zenotha noticed that Farengar Secret-Fire, the court wizard from Whiterun, had found the ear of Sybille Stentor, Elisif’s court wizard. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something was off about Sybille and she couldn’t place what it was. Instinct kicked in , and she got up from her seat and walked along the table to where the two were sitting. Farengar smiled, while Sybille merely looked up at her with a blank expression.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt. I just want to grab one of these apple pastries. I do so love apples, and we only have blackberry at our end of the table.” She awkwardly reached out and took a pastry from the large display sitting in front of them. She breathed in deep and the smell of blood hit her. As she withdrew her arm, Sybille suddenly grabbed it. Red eyes locked onto hers. ‘Vampire,’ Zenotha realized. She smiled down at the two of them. “I’m so sorry to have interrupted you. I’ll be back to my seat.”

“We should talk later,” Sybille smirked up at her. “Farengar tells me you’re a member of the Companions. I’d love to hear some of your stories.”

Zenotha stood for a moment, blinking in silence. Sybille released her arm and turned her attention solely back to Farengar. Zenotha stood there for a brief moment longer, then turned on her heel, making sure her skirts swished dramatically. When she reached her seat, she gingerly placed the pastry on a small plate and set it between her and Vorstag.

“What the fuck was that?” Vorstag’s concern was genuine underneath his faked smile. “I thought she might kill you on the spot.”

“Oh no big deal.” She leaned in to whisper. “Except she’s a fucking vampire. I’d heard rumors of Solitude prisoners randomly disappearing before they could finish their sentences but now I think it’s maybe how she’s feeding.”

“Do you think she can tell you’re a werewolf?” He casually leaned back and took a sip of wine out of his goblet, throwing a quick glance at Jenassa who was only a few seats away from Sybille. He calmly set down the goblet and picked up a knife to cut the pastry. “I get half of this, by the way.”

“She doesn’t have to know what I am. She knows I’m a Companion and I’m sure she’s smart enough to connect the dots.” She smiled at him and leaned in, laughing a little, as if she were flirting with him. Ever the performer, he smiled sheepishly and handed her her half of the pastry. Zenotha looked up and over in Jenassa’s direction. The dark elf was grinning wildly at her. Zenotha glared at her and dragged a finger across her throat, which just sent her into a fit of giggles.

“What’s wrong with Jenassa?” Vorstag was sincerely puzzled.

“Oh I’m sure Elisif just said something funny. She’s not much of a joker but when she is, she gets in some real zingers.” She stuffed the pastry in her mouth and looked around at the dinner gests.

“Ah. I see.” Vorstag didn’t sound like he believed that in the slightest. She ignored it. The next few mments were relatively quiet, until the unmistakable ring of silverware on drinkware couldn’t be ignored, and half the table stood up with their goblets raised in her direction.

“And to our guest Zenotha, who uncovered a plot by Commander Maro’s own traitorous son to murder the Emperor!’ Elisif was leading the toast. Zenotha froze. Jenassa mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to her and shook her head while she raised her own goblet.

“Hear, hear!” Jarl Idgrod also stood, raising her goblet. One by one, the rest of the table followed suit, with Vorstag standing last and offering his arm to help her stand. She reluctantly got to her feet as the others cheered and toasted her. Sybille’s eyes could have bored a hole in her, but everyone else was smiling and proud. Vorstag nudged her, a cue to say something.

“I hardly deserve your praise though I’m truly flattered by it. I only discovered his vile plan because he tried to attack me. If I hadn’t thought fast, I’d be dead and his secret with me. Let us instead toast to the Emperor.” She raised her goblet. Amongst a few murmurs, the others did as well, and they all drank. “And now I am sorry but I’m very tired from our travel. I will retire to my room in the Winking Skeever for tonight. Please, if there are any updates, leave them with Jenassa and she’ll pass them on.”

She bowed to Elisif and gracefully swept out of the room. Vorstag awkwardly bowed and followed. Jenassa grinned to herself and turned her attention back to the Jarl as everyone took their seats again. Now, Elisif wanted to know about the quest they’d had to take care of Potema and her followers, which was actually one of Jenassa’s favorites. It was so easy to distract the Jarl, it seemed.

The stories continued around the table until the candles were melted down and the room gradually got darker. Farengar had gotten flirtier with Jenassa with each goblet of wine until he was half asleep on the table saying her name over and over. She eased herself out of her chair and pardoned herself to Jarl Elisif. She managed to stay calm and she wound her way through the tiled hallways. The minute the door to the Blue Palace closed behind her, however, she sprinted her way through the residential district and through the town market until she’d reached the Winking Skeever’s door.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha rubbed her eyes wearily. She sat at the desk in her room in the inn, writing a coded letter for Astrid. She knew the woman most likely knew everything that had transpired in Markarth but the story of the banquet might be of interest, especially the part where the Solitude court wizard was a fucking vampire. She wondered if having Sybille as an ally wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Enemies of the Brotherhood that they wanted dead without any ties to the organization might be best framed, arrested, and fed on. In turn, the Brotherhood could potentially protect Sybille from this up and coming “Dawnguard” group that she kept hearing about that seemed to be rather adverse to vampires and werewolves alike.

She signed the letter with her usual dramatic flourish, and dripped the wax for her seal onto it. There was something so satisfying about pressing her seal into the wax as the red got slightly darker as the wax cooled around the seal. She’d chosen a wolf’s head as her seal- it was recognizable enough for her friends, but didn’t draw too much attention otherwise. She’d wanted a dragon but then again that would be pretty obvious on a letter coming from the elf that had been dubbed “Dragonborn.” She sighed and picked up the letter. She straightened her nightgown as she got up. Her feet were freezing on the stone floor as she walked out into the main room of the inn. Corpulus smiled at her as she handed him the letter along with ten gold pieces. His silence and discretion were relatively inexpensive at this rate, and she took full advantage of that fact. That letter would be in Astrid’s hands in two days at the most. The exchange was wordless, and she slipped back into her room as quickly and quietly as she had left it.

Except there was someone in there now, Zenotha tensed, automatically assuming the worst, until she realized who it was.

“Erdi?” She relaxed. Erdi turned around. “Um…. no offense but why are you here?”

“Falk sent me, your Grace.”

“That…. Doesn’t really answer my question.”

“He thought that you might like some….company.” Erdi’s eye shifted away. “While you’re still in Solitude.”

“I mean, I’m quite tired and I’ve already got Jenassa and Vorstag to talk…..” Zenotha’s eyes widened as she realized what the woman really meant by ‘company’. “Ohhhh….. No, no… No. I mean, I appreciate Falk’s concern, if you could call it that. But I don’t require that sort of company. Also, I hope you agreed to this and aren’t just getting tossed around like some pawn.”

“No, your Grace, I agreed to his offer.” The maid had begun to blush.

“Well that’s good.” Zenotha tilted her head curiously. “Perhaps my man Vorstag would appreciate some company. I did notice you watching him at dinner. He IS rather good looking, isn’t he?”

The woman’s face got even redder. Zenotha couldn’t help but chuckle. She shooed Erdi out of the room and gestured to the door of the room next to hers with a smile. Erdi smiled back shyly and knocked on his door. She ducked back into her room before Vorstag saw her. Exhausted, she stumbled across her room to the bed. She was asleep the minute her head hit the pillow, and slept so soundly she didn’t dream.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The last of Zenotha’s trunks was loaded onto the carriage. Jenassa hadn’t gotten much sleep and was scowling at everyone and everything in sight. Zenotha exchanged an amused glance with Vorstag and stifled a giggle. She pulled her fur cape tighter around her and paused. Something told her to turn around- when she did, she saw Erdi standing outside the Solitude gate.

She did not look happy.

Zenotha turned to Vorstag, pointing behind her. “Everything alright? She kinda looks like she might want to knock you at right now.”

“I don’t know.” Vorstag shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, maybe. She came to my room last night, which I feel like you orchestrated, by the way. I took her up on her offer and then afterwards asked her to leave so I could sleep. Was that bad?”

“Honestly I’m a terrible person to ask about it. I mean I guess the outcome of the encounter could have been discussed before anything happened? But I turned her away and she was fine with it.”

“But you didn’t sleep with her.”

“Yeah, I got nothing. I guess in my experience I’ve always been the one told to leave so it’s just normal to me. Not that that’s fair to expect someone else to accept.” Zenotha climbed into the carriage. Vorstag and Jenassa followed.

“Really?” Jenassa piped up. “I would never have guessed that. I’d think that men fawned over you.”

“I mean it’s not like I sleep around or anything. If anything I probably go years between.” She knocked on the wall of the carriage. As they started moving, she threw one last glance out the window to where Erdi was standing. The maid turned slowly and went back through the gate, clearly upset. “I think the first supposed flirting I experienced was when the neighbors’ boy tried to push me into a well. It was always ‘well he’s mean because he likes you.’ And I took from it that I wasn’t interested in people being interested in me if it meant they’d do things like that to me. As I got older, instead of them being flat out mean to me, they just sent me away. Granted, this happened maybe three times in my life so far but when it’s three out of three times, it just imprints itself as ‘the way it is.’ If that makes any sense. And I’ve honestly been happier without dealing with it. And honestly wish that we could drop this because I’m starting to get a little uncomfortable. It’s irrelevant anyway.”

They rode in silence for about half an hour with Jenassa and Vorstag exchanging concerned glances. Then, Jenassa turned so that she could look at both of them at once. “Hey don’t you get something extra for killing Maro since you did it in a major city? I wonder what it is.”

“Gold would be nice. I have a feeling that’s not it, though. Maybe Gabriella will set me up with some good potions or recipes? Hell, if the weather stays like this, I’d be happy with a couple of pairs of thick socks.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

Olava the Feeble grinned when she saw Zenotha walking up the path leading to her house. She was sitting outside in the sun, knitting what looked like would be a pair of socks.

“Come to Olava for a reading, eh? I’m afraid I’m not in the best of humors for it.”

“I have this token for you.” She held it out for Olava.

“A token, eh? Let me see it.” She took it from Zenotha and examined it. “Oh goodness. You’re a friend of Gabriella’s aren’t you. Well I guess we both know why you’re here.”

“I…. was told you could see my future?”

“Well, yes, I surely can. It’s not something I do lightly, though, mind you, and it’s not going to be as specific as you’d like. But I’ll do my best. I will do this for you. Now, clear your mind and relax so I can see….” Olava’s eyes slowly went milky white and she took Zenotha’s hand.

“Oh…. what do you see?” She tried not to sound weirded out. Olava chuckled.

“There is a cave. Well… more of a home, a place to feel safe, secure. You will find sanctuary there, lit by the star of dawn. And there are others- a child of night and a stalker of the sands… and a fool? But before you are family there will be blood. So much blood….” Olava inhaled sharply. “Ah but one more thing- a chance for adventure and wealth. It is a ruin, ripe for the plunder. Go to Deepwood Redoubt, for to the northwest. Then, Hag’s End. The last resting place of an assassin of old. A dark brother, with ancient possessions bequeathed to you.”

“Is there anything else?” Zenotha asked.

“No, that is all. I’m weary now and must rest.” Olava tightened her grip on Zenotha’s hand. “But child, please. Be careful, for this future has so much blood. And not all of it will be shed by you.”

Chapter Text

Zenotha walked out onto the back patio. She’d just purchased and furnished Honeyside in Riften. A cool breeze blew in from across the water. Iona had put out some fresh juices and fruit for her and she sat at the small table outside. The breeze rustled the trees round the small patio and for a small moment, everything felt blissfully normal. She slipped off her house shoes and pulled her feet up onto the chair. She picked up and bit into one of the apples on the platter in front of her.

The door behind her opened and then closed with a soft click. Assuming it was Iona, she didn’t look behind her. However, she was only mildly surprised when it was Vorstag who sat beside her. He placed a jug of wine on the table next to the fruit. She glanced over wordlessly, then looked back out over the water.

Smoke was billowing over Goldenglow Estate. The fires in the beehives hadn’t yet been put out, and the smoke could be seen for miles. Zenotha’s hair was still damp from having to swim to shore, but she’d rubbed some perfume into it so it wouldn’t stink when it dried. A faint smirk spread over her face and she looked back over at Vorstag.

“They told me not to kill anyone. This definitely sends more of a message, I guess.” She gestured to the wine. “Isn’t it a little early for wine?”

“I haven’t slept yet.”

“Well then, I guess it isn’t.” She motioned towards her goblet. “Would you kindly?”

“Of course.” He filled it almost all the way, then filled the other. “I’m not used to you being this quiet. You have another job, don’t you?”

“I always have a job.” She took a long sip from her goblet. It was pleasant, not too sweet, and definitely made from near frozen grapes.

“You know what I mean. I’ve spent enough time around you to know when something’s up.” He reached over and plucked some grapes off the platter.

“What, so you know me now?” She lowered her gaze to her hands.

“What is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long week, I guess.”

“You’re getting closer to having to kill the emperor, aren’t you?” He whispered. He reached back over and put his hand on hers. She tensed, but didn’t move it. She looked back up at him.

“You can’t know about any of this. If you get dragged into this, the consequences could mean death…..”

“What, and it doesn’t mean the same for you? You’ve been dancing with death since you arrived in Skyrim. What is any different now?”

“I have people here now…. Friends. My actions don’t just affect me anymore.”

“How is that any different than a month ago? Excuse me if I recall incorrectly but were we not with you when you literally crushed Vittoria Vici with a gargoyle in front of witnesses? And were you alone when you killed Grelod to save her orphans….”

“Stop. Just stop.” She pulled her hand away. “Just let me wallow for a moment and I’ll be back to my usual self in an hour or so.”

She stood quickly and walked back into the house. Vorstag followed. Iona watched them both, unsure of what to do. Zenotha gestured for her to leave, and she did so immediately. Vorstag reached out and grabbed her by the hand. She turned towards him abruptly.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” His concern was genuine. “You need a break. You’ve been narrowly escaping death for months while doling it out to others at the same time. Just…. Take a break. A week, even. I know of a place you can go, away from this. I have a friend in Rorikstead. A discrete friend, who will believe whatever I tell her. The emperor isn’t due in Skyrim for probably another month. You don’t have to do anything yet.”

“Easy for you to say.” Zenotha sighed again loudly.

“Please? As a favor to me. Or just to shut me up.” He put his other hand on hers. “If it doesn’t help, we can come back and you can go back to killing things any time. I doubt we’ll run out of people to dispose of.”

“I’ll think about it.” She pulled her hand from his and motioned towards the front door. He sighed but obeyed and left the house. When he closed the door behind him, he slumped down onto the ground. Tears of frustration sprung forth and he had never been more glad that Honeyside was somewhat isolated.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The last bandit fell dead and then Jenassa allowed herself to panic. Zenotha had gotten between their mage and Jenassa to block the incoming damage, not realizing the spell was draining both her health AND magic abilities. They’d slipped up and not noticed the second mage that had managed to flank them and went directly for Zenotha. Fortunately, Zen noticed her quickly and shot the arrow directly into his throat. That unfortunately gave the first mage the chance to shoot an ice spike directly into Zenotha’s chest. She’d managed to flee and hide behind a rock formation to try to restore her magic but collapsed as she got out one last fireball, killing the mage. Shadowmere seemed distressed and trotted over to nudge Zenotha.

“Hey, boy. Can you help me get her back to Tundra Homestead?” She patted his neck. He grunted and stood still while she hoisted Zenotha up. “Geez you’re a lot of dead weight, Zen.”

She pulled herself up on the horse and positioned herself so that she could somewhat hold onto Zenotha. Thankfully, they were somewhat close to Tundra and Jenassa was pretty sure there was at most minimal bandit presence on the way home. When she passed the watchtower, she’d also be able to send a guard ahead to have Farengar meet them at the house.

She sighed at least 15 times by the time they reached the Western Watchtower. Her friend Jorah saw them coming and came running up to see what was wrong.

“Jenass, what’s happened? Is that the Dragonborn?” He looked confused.

“Yes, it’s her. Fight gone bad, magic. She needs Farengar. Immediately.” She reached down and handed him a small bag of gold. “Use this to expedite the matter, if an obstacle should arise.”

“Yes, Lady Jenassa.” He kissed her hand. He mounted a nearby horse and took off towards Whiterun. One of the other guards brought out some water for both Jenassa and Shadowmere. The horse was somewhat skeptical until the guard also presented a carrot. Then, they became good friends rather quickly. Once the horse and Jenassa were adequately watered, they set back off towards Tundra Homestead, which was now in sight. Jenassa had to keep Shadowmere going slow- it was apparent he was itching to get home as much as she was. She was afraid it would make Zenotha fall from the horse, and then they’d all have much bigger problems.

A small rabbit darted out of a patch of grass. It stopped short at the edge of the road and almost looked like it was watching them approach. They got close enough to it that Jenassa could see its nose quiver before it sprinted down the road. Birds chirping, a small fox barking, the rustling of wind…… Jenass was so used to being on the road for a job that she couldn’t remember the last time she was able to just listen. No smell of blood or decomposition, either. Just flowers and crisp air from the mountains… and the unmistakable smell of approaching rain.

“Shit,” she said to herself. The last thing Zenotha needed besides falling off the horse was getting caught in freezing rain. A trot was going to have to do. She clicked for Shadowmere to pick up the pace and he was obviously glad to oblige. She gripped onto Zenotha’s belt and basically prayed they would stay on. “Horse, I swear to the eight if you let us fall, I’m making armor out of you!”

Time was on their side, and by the time a light rain had started, Shadowmere had reached the front of the property, and Jorah and Farengar were fast approaching. There was another horse and rider behind them, but Jenassa honestly didn’t care who it was right at that moment. Jorah pulled off his helmet and leapt off his horse, nearly plowing into her.

“Jorah, help me get her off the horse.” She grabbed Zenotha’s legs and Jorah got underneath. They pulled her down gently, and Jorah took the brunt of her weight on his shoulders. He carried her into the house, and put her down on her bed inside. Farengar whisked in behind them, and started examining her. Jenassa pulled Jorah out of the room into the central living room. It was then when she saw who had been on the last horse.

It was Vorstag.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Faendal was nodding off in his chair. He’d volunteered to take a few shifts watching over Zenotha. Farengar was confident that she’d make a full recovery in the next few days, but she wasn’t completely awake yet. There were brief moments where she murmured in her sleep, at least. Jenassa had turned into a mother hen, squawking at anyone who hovered too long over her. Vorstag had been basically banished to the library by her, and Jorah wasn’t even permitted back into the house, as he had nothing to lend to the whole business except for stress. Faendal had managed to avoid her wrath by staying quiet in whichever corner was closest. In turn, she’d made sure he had an unending supply of tea and fruit, probably to make sure he stayed that way.

Zenotha stirred and opened her eyes. She looked over at him and promptly rolled said eyes. “They’ve got you watching me? Tell me, how many people has Jenassa beaten off with a stick so far? For that matter, how long have I been out?”

“About a week. And good to see you too.” Faendal beamed. “And so far only Jorah and Vorstag have been driven off.”

“Vor…..” Zenotha stopped short and swallowed. “Wait, Jorah helped?”

“He helped drag you in here after you took an ice spike to the chest. Well, helped Jenassa. And Shadowmere. Really, Shadowmere did most of the work.”

“Don’t tell them I’ve woken up yet. Jenassa will descend on the room and make everything more dramatic than it needs to be. I need a little bit to finish waking up.”

“I could maybe find a reason to send Jenassa to Whiterun?” Faendal furrowed his brow. “Honestly we all need a reprieve from her.”

“Do it. Tell her I’m closer to waking and I would want some of those apple pastries when I wake up. Which I do, by the way.”

“And what of Vorstag and Farengar?”

“Oh Farengar, what a dear. Is he here or did she drive him off too?”

“No, he had to go back to Dragonsreach for something to do with the Jarl. I think he’ll probably be back to check on you by tonight.”

“Well tell her to fetch him and some apple pastries. I can wake up while she’s gone as far as anyone knows. And you better not tell anyone or I’ll kill you myself.”

“Oh i’m so glad you’re awake.” He rolled his eyes. He stood, waited for a few seconds, then went out into the living area. She immediately closed her eyes and listened.

“Listen, she’s stirring more. I think it will be soon that she wakes up. Go bring Farengar back here so he can see if he can wake her up. And bring some various treats for when she does. She likes those apple things Carlotta makes. Grab me one too.” Faendal sounded almost convincing.

“What if she wakes up while I’m gone?” Jenassa did not sound okay with the command.

“I’ll make sure she stays in bed and that no one bothers her. Give her a little credit, she’s sturdier than either one of us.”

“Fine. But really, please, don’t let her get up and moving too fast if she wakes up. Even she needs a day or two.”

“I promise.”

Zenotha stayed perfectly still with her eyes closed until after the sounds of Jenassa leaving were over. She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps approach. Instead of Faendal, it was Vorstag. She rolled her eyes and looked away. “So are you here to lecture me?”

“Absolutely not. There was no way to prevent this, and you saved Jenassa.” He sighed. “It’s obviously not ideal but you’re alive and Jenassa’s alive, and I’m not upset about either of those things.”

“How noble of you.” She winced. “You’re right, you know.”

“Wait, I’m right?”

“I need a break.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Not too long, I still have obligations. Maybe a week.”

“I think that’s fair. I think that’s more than fair, actually.”

“You’ll make sure I’m not made?”

“My friend is very discrete.”

“Fine.” She slid out of bed. “I’m going to put together some bags. You’re going to help me, and we’re going to be gone before Jenassa comes back. I’ll leave her a letter to join us later. Faendal will make sure that only they know.”

“Not that it’s my place, but is Jenassa joining you the best idea?”

“She’s my best friend. I’m only leaving before she comes back so she doesn’t stop me. Once I’m there, I’ll need her….and you… to make sure I’m safe. I can’t relax if I’m looking around every corner.”

“No, of course. You’re right.”

“I know,” She smirked. “Come one, help me pack. I need a gown, two nightgowns, four tunics with pants, a regular dress, a set of good furs, a pair of dress shoes, a pair of house shoes, a pair of fur shoes, a pair of boots, my good jewels, my moonstone circlet, my pearl tiara…….”

“.....You’re serious?” Vorstag blinked.

“I mean most of it should still be packed from the last trip to Solitude. I only wore the one dress and pulled it out when we got pack. The shoes are all in the front hall. I’m going to go out there and tell Faendal what we’re doing.” She pushed herself to her feet and shuffled out to the living room. “Faendal!”

Vorstag looked around the room and chuckled. Literally everything she had listed to him was stacked in piles. At least it was easy enough to find it all. He slowly went around picking up everything. The clothes were easy enough, the shoes were indeed in the living room, and he guessed her jewelry was in the big chest in a corner. Faendal edged into the room, clearly uncomfortable with the whole mess.

“The lady wants me to help you pack.” Faendal rolled his eyes and grinned. “What can I do?”

“I’m not digging through her jewelry. Grab that chest.” He jerked his head in its direction, his hands and arms loaded with clothing.

“No one would ever know we’re helping an assassin pack,” Faendal joked. Vorstag froze.

“That’s exactly what she’s doing. We could go anywhere right now, and who would know who she is?” He shook his head. “Come on, let’s get her packed up. You’ll tell Jenassa when she gets back? I don’t like the idea of Zen putting this in writing.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Guys, let’s get this show on the road, already!” Zenotha screeched from the living room. Faendal and Vorstag smiled, and dragged her wardrobe out to the cariage. It was all packed relatively quickly. Faendal stood outside and waved as the coach pulled away on the road to Rorikstead. Almost as soon as the carriage was out of sight, he turned and saw what must be Jenassa and Farengar approaching.

This wasn’t going to be fun at all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha glanced around the room casually and downed the last of her wine. Vorstag was telling his Rorikstead friend (Kerah? Serah?) a story about one of their dragon battles. She was hooked on every word, and kept looking over at Zenotha in awe. Vorstag winked at her and stood up, acting out Zenotha’s part and his alternately. She grinned and also stood, crossing the room to stand next to him. She wrapped her furs around her tighter and joined the re-enactment. Vorstag, of course, made the dragon sound about five times its actual size, and she was pretty sure his friend thought she was immortal by the time the story was over. The girl went over to refill the wine jugs and Zenotha motioned for Vorstag to follow her.

It was snowing lightly when they walked outside. They were both silent at first, listening to the fresh snow crunch under their feet. Vorstag was glad he’d brought his warm coat- it was just cold enough for the chill to seep into his bones. Zenotha looked up at the sky.

“I don’t get a lot of chances to look at the stars, you know.” She scoffed. “That sounds so pathetic.”

“Why is it pathetic?” Vorstag asked. Zenotha looked down briefly to scowl at him.

“Because why does it matter?” She looked back up.

“You’re allowed to not be a hardass all the time, you know that right?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Yeah I know.”

“So why do you make yourself?”

“Why won’t you let this go?” She half laughed.

“Because you’re important to me and I hate to see you so brittle.” He walked up to stand directly in front of her. “”And you’re supposed to be here taking a break.”

Zenotha started to argue but Vorstag put up his hand. She rolled her eyes.

“I know. I’m having fun so far, really. Truly. Serah’s great.”

“Kerah.”

“I knew that.”

“I’m gonna go back inside. You can join me or stay out here a little bit and enjoy the stars. I won’t judge you either way.”

“I think…. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right behind you.” She smiled genuinely at him.

Chapter Text

“How could you let her do this?” Jenassa’s voice was uncharacteristically shrill. “That was reckless and could have been dangerous.”

“Would you relax? I was with her the whole time.” Vorstag was possibly the most annoyed Zenotha had ever seen him.

“I was with her and she still got hurt!”

“Oh is THAT what this is actually about? You failed to keep her safe so obviously I would too.”

“CHILDREN.” Zenotha interjected. “First of all, I am right fucking here. Don’t talk about me like I’m not. Second of all, I am not a child and neither of you is a parent. Lastly, I am a grown-ass adult and so is Vorstag, and he did what I told him to, which, if I recall correctly, is precisely what I paid him to do. So if you two are done with your pissing contest, I’d like to get ready for the party that the mayor of Rorikstead is hosting for us.”

“Ma’am.” Vorstag bowed slightly, shot a glare at Jenassa, then ducked back out of the room. Zenotha turned to fully face Jenassa.

“You do not have exclusive rights to my happiness or deciding my well-being. If you’re really my friend, you would appreciate what Vorstag tried to do. I almost didn’t have Faendal tell you because I knew you would pull this exact bullshit.” Zenotha pursed her lips. “As far as I can tell you need this break as much as I do, okay? Come on. Put on a good set of clothes and help me pick out some jewelry. The boys packed my whole collection.”

“Of course they did. THAT is really why you should have waited for me.”

“Ugh, I’ll definitely think about that next time, actually.” She snickered and walked over to her trunks. “I’m leaning towards green tonight. I have a really pretty onyx set to go with it. I think we should put you in red?

“Sounds good.” Jenassa smiled back.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Introducing Ser Vorstag, of Markarth!” The page furrowed his brow but tried to hide his confusion. Vorstag entered the banquet hall nervously. He was definitely a fish out of water. Zenotha couldn’t tell whether it was the fine clothes or the attention that was making him uncomfortable. ‘Probably both,’ she thought. He looked around for a place to stand. The mayor gestured for him to stand next to his table.

“Introducing Ser Jenassa, of Whiterun!” Jenassa was far more confident than Vorstag. The red dress Zenotha had picked out for her was a far bolder color than any of the other ladies in the room were wearing, even without the ornate beading Taarie had added. She hadn’t had a good reason to wear the dress since Vittoria’s wedding, and the bold red made Zenotha smiled inwardly. All eyes were glued to Jenassa as she crossed the room. If Zenotha didn’t know better, she’d think Jenassa was actually enjoying this.

“The Lady Zenotha of House Aedius of The Summerset Isles. Thane of Whiterun, Falkreath, The Reach, The Pale, and The Rift, and the Dragonborn.” Zenotha put on a big smile that she hoped didn’t look fake. She’d decided on her sapphire blue gown instead of the green and was rewarded with quiet gasps and awe as she crossed the room gracefully. When she reached the mayor’s table, she dipped into a curtsy so slight it was barely noticeable.

“Mayor Brannon. I’m honored to be invited to such a generous party in our names. I’m looking forward to us having a fantastic time here.”

“We’re happy to have you here.” Mayor Brannon grinned. “Enough talking! Come sit down and enjoy!”

The other attendees in the room applauded. Zenotha took what was obviously meant to be her seat, with Vorstag and Jenassa on either side of her. The parade of wine and food began, with a couple of young men bringing out a choice of dinners for them. Zenotha was delighted to see salmon cooked exactly the way she like it. Vorstag chose a roast pheasant, and Jenassa was glad to have the slow-cooked beef. A particularly handsome man brought a jug of wine specifically over to Jenassa, who was delighted that it was white wine instead of the more common reds. “Oh is this plum wine? It’s my absolute favorite!”

Vorstag was going out of his way to use his manners. Zenotha bit her lip to not laugh at how completely awkward he obviously was in this situation. She leaned over with a napkin hiding her mouth. “Just be yourself. The way you’re holding your silverware is painful to watch.”

“I just don’t want them thinking I’m sort of barbarian.”

“We fight dragons. I think they expect you to be a bit of a barbarian. Besides, with as slow as you’re eating, it looks like you’re not enjoying your dinner.” She dabbed around with her mouth and went back to her meal. Vorstag paused, then put his knife down and began picking apart the meat with his fingers. The mayor smiled, and leaned back in his chair to continue eating. “Told you.”

Another man brought a jug of wine over to Zenotha. She waved it away, her own goblet still very full. Mayor Brannon waved it over, and had the man pour some for his brother, seated next to him. He then turned to the attending bard and motioned her to play. The notes of a familiar song drifted through the room. Zenotha smiled and raised her goblet to her. The rest of the attendees followed suit slowly. The mayor applauded enthusiastically.

Suddenly, there was an outburst from the mayor’s brother. He was choking, slamming his hand on the table. The young man who had served him wine shrieked and dropped the jug. One of the mayor’s guard swooped in an seized him, dragging out of the room. Zenotha dropped everything and ran over to the mayor and his brother. It wasn’t lost on her that this wine had originally been brought over to her. One near-death experience in a week was enough.

“I don’t know what I’ll be able to do, but I can try.” Her voice sounded strange, calmer than it should have been. Her hands glowed with a healing spell, and she placed them on the man’s abdomen. She was hopeful for a moment that she’d be able to help, but then the man started convulsing and blood poured out of his mouth and eyes. She scrambled backwards without thinking to keep the blood from getting on her gown, and immediately felt selfish for doing so. Seconds later were the familiar signs of life leaving the body. She looked over at Mayor Brannon. “I am so sorry, Ser.”

“It’s nothing. You tried.” He stared down at his brother’s body blankly. Zenotha looked over to the table where Vorstag and Jenassa were still standing, shocked. Emotions hit her suddenly like a brick. She gathered her skirts and fled from the room.

When she got outside, she let go of her skirts and just started walking. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she needed to not be here anymore. Especially if Jenassa was about to get very “I told you so” with them.

“Zen!” Vorstag shouted when he got outside. She wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with either of them. She blindly threw up an invisibility spell- neither of them knew she was able to do it, and she knew she’d get shit later, but that was later. She broke out into a run in the direction of the nearby river. She ducked under an overhanging rock just as the spell wore off. She could sort of hear Vorstag and Jenassa shouting for her. She tried to control her breathing so they wouldn’t hear her. It was then that she heard the footsteps. Shrouded by their wearer’s boots.

Then she realized that someone had to have given that boy the wine to give to her, and that person was somewhere nearby her. Jenassa was going to murder her if this person didn’t first. She was going to have a literal firefight in a fucking gown. Taarie might kill her if Jenassa didn’t. She took a deep breath, counted down, and prepared a fireball behind her back. She slowly came out from cover, looking around wildly for her stalker.

It was Kerah, and she was aiming an arrow straight at Zenotha’s throat.

“This is how you like to kill, isn’t it? Arrow to the throat? Or an ice spike to the heart?” She smirked. “You aim to kill. Clean, perfect kills. That’s why the Dark Brotherhood wanted you so badly. And why no one will care that I killed a bloodthirsty assassin who murdered Gaius Maro in cold blood in Markarth.”

“Wow so you got the wrong version of that story, didn’t you, crazy?” Zenotha laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, although this is a very romantic story. A crazed assassin tried to kill me in the middle of the street and I defended myself. What does it matter to you, anyway?”

“Faida paid me good money to make sure you would wind up in Rorikstead. I knew I could appeal to Vorstag, that damned fool. He’s so blindly in love with you, he didn’t even pay attention to the obvious risk. Shame that Jenassa followed you here. Not that she can stop this.”

“Well…..” Zenotha grinned wickedly as her human teeth transformed into wolf teeth. Her eyes went yellow and she roared as she transformed into her beast form. The element of surprise worked in her favor, and Kerah reacted by stumbled backwards. Zenotha grinned and lunged forward. Claws ripped flesh on both arms and Kerah dropped the bow and arrow. She screamed in pain and terror and fell to the ground. Zenotha snarled and tore out her throat with a single blow. Kerah reached up as if to try to put it back together. Blood spewed from her throat and mouth, rasping as she tried to speak. She towered over her, watching as she struggled to breathe, and as she died.

“Zen!” The shouts of Vorstag and Jenassa startled her out of her bloodlust. Both of them knew of her condition but had never seen it- it was bad enough that her friends knew she was a monster, they didn’t need to see it. Panicked, she clumsily fumbled with the clasp on her necklace. Maybe if she left it by the body, one of them would figure out what happened. She dropped it where she stood. On a second thought, she pulled the cloak Kerah was wearing off her body. She took off at a run, looping around back towards Rorikstead. She’d sneak back into the cottage they were in once she shifted back to her human form.

It seemed like hours before she felt herself shifting back. She wrapped Kerah’s cloak around her tighter, reeling slightly at the smell of her blood. The sounds of the town had quieted around her, so she slipped out into the street. The door was right around the corner, so she was in with the door closed behind her before any of the guards even looked over. Neither Jenassa nor Vorstag looked the slightest bit surprised to see her.

“Vorstag, buddy…” She gave him an exasperated look. “Your buddy Kerah tried to kill me so I had to go beast mode.”

“We found her. I assumed it was you.” Vorstag couldn’t look at her. “The town thinks wolves got her, don’t worry.”

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Jenassa smiled weakly at him. “I never would have guessed it was her either.”

“What good are we if we can’t detect a threat right under our noses?”

“Vorstag, don’t do that to yourself.” Zenotha stepped closer to him. “I mean, I couldn’t tell either. We’re all safe, though, and that’s what matters. You two are the most important things in the world to me, okay?”

“I know.” Vorstag sighed. “I really do.”

Chapter Text

Zenotha stared at the ceiling. She was still exhausted from the fiasco in Rorikstead and it was obvious Jenassa was mildly uncomfortable around her. All of her various travel companions were aware that she was a werewolf but only those from the Companions had ever seen the transformation and the effects. She could only imagine what it had been like for Vorstag especially to see his friend torn to shreds, even if she was a traitor. He hadn’t been to Lakeview Manor since she’d come back. No loss, she supposed. She was a high elf mage, a werewolf, devourer of dragon souls…. She had plenty to do without fair weather friends. The looming assassination of the Emperor itself had worked its way to the front of her mind. In a couple of days, she’d be hunting down The Gourmand and setting the events into motion. No pressure.

Faendal knocked softly on her door and poked his head into the room. She had possibly never been happier to see him than right now.

“I brought some tea. Camilla showed me how to make it and sent up the flowers for it.”

“Oh that was sweet of her.” She sat up and smiled. “I bet she’s happy you’ve been close to home, huh?”

“Definitely. Esp with Rayya here.” Faendal grinned back. He crossed the room and handed her the hot mug. He pulled up the bedside chair and sat next to her. “So Rorikstead was interesting, I heard. What the hell happened?”

Zenotha half chuckled and rolled her eyes. “I panicked. I didn’t have any weapons on me and had an arrow aimed at my throat. So I….. went full werewolf and fucked her up. Unfortunately it was an old friend of Vorstag’s that decided to sell out for some gold. I think the whole thing has left him a little bit in shock, honestly.”

“I mean, he went from thinking she was his friend to finding out she betrayed him by finding a shredded corpse.” He shrugged. “How would you be?”

“I went from almost having my head chopped off to indirectly being saved by a dragon attack to finding out I eat dragon souls to being turned into a werewolf. I wish my problems were as simple as that.” She took a long sip of the tea. “This is delicious, by the way. Please thank Camilla for me.”

“I will.” He got serious. “Hey, let me know if you need anything. Or just want to talk. Or…. If you wanna take me along on a trip.”

“Will do.” She smiled. He smiled back, stood, and quietly left the room.

She stared at the wall. Faendal and Rayya had done a pretty good job of decorating the place. It was no Myrwatch, but it was comfortable. Even when four other people were in the house, it was homey and she had her own space. It was also probably the home of hers where she was the least disturbed. She gulped the rest of her tea and laid back in her bed. She blindly groped around the bookshelf next to her. She pulled back with Alduin is Real and cringed.

“Oh this book is fucking terrible….” She chuckled. She tossed it on the floor and turned over onto her side.

Sadness, rage, frustration, tiredness, fatigue, pain, loneliness, all hit at once. She wiped her face as a few tears trickled down. She had a wild hair to go for a wander and get away from her overly sympathetic friends. She pulled her fur robe closer around her. Bare feet on cold tile, she crept to her door and looked around. Faendal, Rayya, and Jenassa were all out of sight. She tiptoed her way through the hall and into the entryway. She grabbed an apple out of a bowl slipping outside. She shuffled through the tall grass. There was a slight breeze, just enough to blow her hair back from her face. It smelled like rain.

She worked her way down the hill to the nearby river. The dirt was cool beneath her feet and she wiggled her toes into it. She caught a whiff of animal and looked around. About 100 yards away was a deer grazing on some tall grass. The breeze was whipping up a little, and she untied her braids to let it blow through her hair.

A twig snapped behind her. Her hands erupted in flames and she whirled around, ready to fight. It was Vorstag.

“Hey you,” he said. His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Hello.” She turned back around to face the river.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea she would do that to you.” She heard him step closer to her. “And I’m sorry that I’ve been a shitty friend. I haven’t been staying away because of what you did….. I’ve stayed away because of what I did.”

“And what did you do exactly?”

“Zen… that trip to Rorikstead was my idea. I pushed you to take a break, and to go there. And you did, and you almost got hurt by someone I told you was a friend.” He stepped up next to her. Her gaze never strayed from the river. “I’m sorry that I’ve stayed away from you. I thought you were angry with me. Frabbi told me to come find you.”

“Kerah said something before I killed her…. She admitted to using you to get me there.” Zenotha slowly turned her head to look at him. “None of this was your fault. Maro’s lover paid her to do all this.”

Vorstag took another step closer to her and raised a hand to her face. Her normally intense green eyes softened a bit and she sighed. He brushed hair away from her face and leaned in slightly.

A scream caught their attention and Zenotha tore herself away from him. She started running up the hill towards the house. Camilla was outside, being attacked by a pair of vampires. Faendal was holding them off, but a couple of fireballs from Zenotha definitely didn’t hurt the situation. As the bodies fell to the ground, Camilla looked like her heart had nearly stopped. Faendal guided her into the house.

“We’ll talk more about this later, V.” Zenotha glanced back at him and then followed them into her house.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha laid back onto a stack of pillows in front of the fire in Vlindrel Hall. She and Jenassa had had two individual dragon attacks that day and an unusually high number of vampires to deal with. The vampires weren’t particularly difficult problems, but they still used resources and energy that neither of them needed to use.

She hadn’t wanted to stop in Markarth. She’d been unsure of how Vorstag felt about her and was leaving it up to him to let her know. She was worried he might think her a monster one moment, then thinking about the other day at the river. He’d looked at her like she’d never seen him do so before, but she chalked it up to pity. And she’d never been a fan of pity…

Jenassa brought over a jug of wine and two goblets. She sat down on another pile of pillows and carefully poured them both wine. They sipped in silence for a few moments.

“You know, today is the anniversary of my brother passing.” Jenassa’s voice cracked. “A year ago. Killed while hunting for us. My mother was ill and I think the grief killed her. My sister packed up everything and left, and I guess I basically did the same thing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Zenotha frowned. “Do you still talk to her?”

“Sometimes. I think she’s figured out what I do, though, and isn’t impressed. Especially now.” Jenassa chuckled. “I think she envies the travel and rubbing elbows with important people. And, you know, the money. I think she’s still young enough to think that you can get rich in Skyrim while being an upstanding character.”

“Oh geez. How old is she?”

“19.”

“Oh wow. That’s a rough age for a woman in Skyrim.”

“Yeah. She’s always been the baby, too. Our brother would be 24, and then I’m 29. We’re perfectly spaced out.”

“We’re pretty spread out too. Youngest is a half-brother, 17, then a half-sister that’s 20, then another brother that’s 25, then me and I’m 27, and then the oldest is a sister that’s 30. We all share our dad. He and my mom weren’t married but he did marry my stepmother.”

“Our dad just kinda…. Vanished one day. He could be anywhere. He could have run away or been killed or been married the whole time for all I know. Aduri was more affected when he disappeared than I was. I guess I’ve always been the more independent one.”

“And look at you now, traveling all over Skyrim having adventures with a Dark Brotherhood assassin.”

Jenassa gulped down the rest of her wine and laughed. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Pffffft….” Zenotha also gulped down the rest of her wine. “Yeah, we’re a mess.”

Jenassa started to say something, then paused. She closed her mouth and looked down at her goblet. “I’m going to go down to Salvius Farm tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Zenotha raised her eyebrow. “Who is she?”

“Wait, what?” Jenassa was surprised. “How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch.” Zenotha smiled. “Have fun, darlin. You deserve it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha stared into the fire. She had Vlindrel Hall all to herself- Argis was out of town visiting family, and Jenassa was on some sort of date. She could sit back and enjoy the crackling of the fire. So, when she heard the door open and close, she went on high alert. SHe grabbed the sword next to her chair. When the footsteps reached the living room, she sprung out of the chair and whirled around, ready for combat.

It was Vorstag.

“Asshole, you scared me.” She scowled and put down the sword. “Why the fuck did you have to sneak up on me?”

“I wasn’t trying to, I’m sorry. I figured the door was loud enough that you’d hear me.”

“Well of course I heard someone but I had no way of knowing it was you and not someone here to kill me.” She walked around to stand in front of him. “This wouldn’t be the first time someone snuck up on me that wanted to kill me.”

“No, of course, you’re right.” Vorstag looked genuinely embarrassed. “Especially after Rorikstead, I should know better.”

“Just…. Next time let me know it’s you so I don’t set you on fire.” She sighed. He stepped closer to her and her eyes widened slightly. “V, Kerah said something else in Rorikstead before I killed her….”

“She did?”

“Yeah. She said that you didn’t pay attention to the obvious risk of going to Rorikstead because….” Zenotha trailed off, unable to repeat what she’d been told. She put her hands on his shoulders. He brushed her hair behind her ears. “V, we can’t.”

“Can’t what?” He leaned in, inches away from her face. She tensed up slightly.

“She was right, wasn’t she?” She closed her eyes as he gently kissed her. She relaxed and moved her hands to the sides of his face. He stepped back and breathed in deeply. She moved her hands behind her to the back of the chair.

“I have a feeling she was.” Vorstag rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I made you uncomfortable. I should leave you alone.”

He turned and walked back towards the door. Zenotha stood there stunned for a few moments, then rushed after him. She reached the door at the same time as him and stood between him and it.

“Please don’t leave…” She placed a hand on his chest. “Stay.”

Chapter Text

Zenotha was annoyed.

This meeting could easily have been a message sent via courier. But here she was listening to some boring drivel about Forsworn in the area. To be fair, Igmund looked as about as happy to be there as she was. Cosnach was the one currently droning on and even he looked ready to be somewhere else. Zenotha picked at her fingernails impatiently and glanced around the room quickly.

Jenassa was seated directly next to her, with Vorstag a short ways behind them. There was a group of Markarth guards somewhat scattered between the other guests. Raerek looked he might actually be asleep next to Igmund. Faleen, as usual, looked ready to fight literally anything or anyone at any moment.

“So this Madanach has been captured?” Igmund’s voice seemed to wake most of the room.

“Yes, Jarl Igmund.” A man that Zenotha recognized as one of the Silver-Bloods (Thonar?) spoke up. “I think that sparing his life might prevent retaliation from the Forsworn, or perhaps minimize it.”

“Perhaps you’re right. What do you think, Dragonborn?” Igmund shifted his attention to her.

“I, uh…. I’m not as familiar with the Forsworn as any of you are, as I’m not from around here, in case you forgot. From the sound of it, I think they will react to this the same way regardless of whether he is spared or not. If he is executed, perhaps the lack of leadership will scatter them for a bit?”

Thonar scoffed and rolled his eyes. She threw a sideways glance at him. Jenassa snorted. Vorstag just sighed.

“Definitely something to consider.” Igmund sighed. “We will spare him for now. That can always be changed later.”

“So why the fuck did he even ask?” Jenassa muttered under her breath. Thonar scoffed at her too.

“Speak up, elf!” He shouted rudely at her. Zenotha looked at him calmly.

“She was asking why I have such bad gas, if you must know. We had some very rich food at Jarl Elisif’s banquet a few nights ago. Apparently too rich for my Altmer stomach.” Zenotha smiled innocently and looked back at Igmund. “I apologize, Jarl Igmund. We were trying to be discreet but I understand Thonar’s concern.”

“I think we’re done here, anyway.” Igmund sounded somewhat amused. “Go home and rest. I’ll keep everyone updated as I get new information.”

Everyone was quick to get out of the room. Jenassa looked at her and burst into a fit of laughter once Thonar was out of the room. “GAS? You’re too much.”

“Listen, you set me up for that.”

“To be fair, you could have brushed it off somehow, but nooooooo.” Jenassa waved her hands in the air dramatically. Vorstag snickered. “So now you’re always going to be the gassy elf.”

“Maybe Thonar will stay the fuck away from me then.”

“I don’t know Thonar well, but I wouldn’t cross him.” Vorstag piped up. “I don’t know how but he could very well find a way to get back at you for making him look foolish.”

“I’m the one who just announced to a room full of people that I’m gassy and he thinks he looked foolish?”

“He’s a Nord,” Jenassa said snidely. “No offense, Vorstag.”

“None taken.”

“I’m not concerned.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The guard threw Zenotha to the ground and stormed out of the cell. They’d taken all of her weapons and clothing and left her in rags. They couldn’t take her magic, at least, if they even knew she had it. She got to her feet and brushed her hands on the rags. She surveyed the cavern she found herself in and saw a fire in the center with a Breton prisoner sitting next to it. None of the other prisoners seemed to have noticed her, but the Breton motioned for her to join him. Skeptical but without options, she crossed the cave and sat next to him reluctantly.

“Name’s Uraccen. What’s yours?”

“Zenotha.”

“What are you in for, new blood?”

“Nothing, technically. I’m innocent and was framed by some guards.” She glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

“Innocent? So was I for the first one. The rest of the murders were all me, though.” He shrugged. “Take my advice. For now, serve your time at the pickaxe. Blend in. Wait for things to happen, if you get my drift.”

She caught a slight smirk from the man.

“Where is this Madanach? I have a bone to pick with him for trying to have me killed.” Her nostrils flared. Uraccen let out a wheezing laugh.

“I can’t say I blame you. I wouldn’t get on his bad side thought.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I heard that this week. I didn’t listen the first time but I guess I have to this time. Anyway, where is he?”

“He’s being heavily guarded in an isolated cell. Orc inmate standing guard.” He leaned in. “I’ve heard he’s very… reasonable. His name is ‘Borkul the Beast’ for a good enough reason but you’re not a Nord so you have a decent shot at getting him to work with you. I didn’t tell you that though.”

Uraccen went back to staring at the fire and gestured for her to leave him. She looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the silhouette of the man who had to be Borkul. She looked around one more time and headed into the small recess. The orc cocked his head to the side, giving her the distinct aura of distaste. His white face paint that looked somewhat like skull didn’t help.

“I hear you’re the one I need to talk to in order to talk to Madanach.” She inhaled deeply. “I almost hate to ask but I’m assuming you want a favor in exchange.”

Borkul’s lips curled back in an amused grin. “I like you, elf. Straight to the point, and you understand how things work. Tell me, what was it like killing your first one?”

“Uhhh…,” Zenotha was NOT expecting the conversation to go that way. “I mean, technically a dragon was trying to kill me concurrently so honestly I was distracted. Now, my first hired kill… That was different entirely.”

“Oh?” His smile turned to a frown. “You’re one of those hand assassins.”

“Hand assassins?” She was confused for a moment. “Ohhh you mean like the hands on the Dark Brotherhood robes. Yes.”

“Well. You want to talk to the King in Rags? Fine. You’ve got to pay the toll.” Borkul Cracked his knuckles. “You’ve got to pay the toll. Bring me a shiv. Not that I really need it but it’ll be nice to have in case I need to do some… shaving.”

“Ah yes, shaving must be quite a chore here.” Zenotha thought quickly. Maybe she could persuade him without having to go on a wild goose chase looking for a shiv that may or may not even be down here. “Madanach is expecting me.”

“Madanach. Is expecting. YOU.”

“Yes, he is. That’s why I’m in here, really. This whole thing, me getting thrown in here, was part of the plan.”

Borkul squinted at her. “Hmph. Fine. Go in. But But don’t try anything in there. Madanach knows more than you think.”

She sighed in relief. The orc unlocked the cell door and waved her in. She headed to the back of the cell, where an older Breton was sitting. He looked up at her and cackled.

“Well, well, well.” He stood as she approached. “The Nords have turned you into an animal. Locked you in a cage and left you to go mad. So, my fellow beast, what do you want? Answers? Revenge?”

“Oh I want to know a lot. Let’s start with Thonar, though.”

“That idiot.” Madanch rolled his eyes. “My people had Markarth. Drove out the Nords. But their retribution was swift and I was arrested, thrown in here. I was sentenced to death but he stopped it.”

“Yeah I was there for that part.”

“He wanted us at his call, his lapdogs to protect his allies and to serve as weapons of his rage towards his enemies. We cooperated, at first. It was humiliating but it was better than death. Plus, I knew he’d let his guard down eventually and assuming I was under his control.”

“You have a lot to answer for.”

“Oh I do? What about you? You had to meddle in my affairs. How many people died because of that? Was it worth it?” He scoffed. “You’re one of us now, a slave. The boots of the Nords are at your throat.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m an Altmer. I’ve had Nord boots at my throat since I came to Skyrim.”

“I hardly think that’s the same thing. I’ll tell you what. There’s a man named Braig further in. Go talk to him and listen to what he has to say. Then come back and say the same thing.”

She had a feeling this was all going to go downhill from here.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha scrambled to put her armor back on. She had mere moments to decide if she was actually going to carry through with helping the Forsworn take over Markarth. As many problems as she had with some of the Nords there, she knew the Forsworn would slaughter everyone in the town. She’d rather have an issue with Thonar literally every day than have a role in that many deaths, at least not without getting paid heftily. She sighed and equipped her quiver. This was going to be a fucking mess.

She followed Madanach through the doorway leading out of the tunnel. Thonar was outside and he looked incredibly pissed. She readied an arrow and pointed it at Madanach’s back. Thonar looked shocked. Seconds later, Jenassa and Vorstag came running up to the scene. Jenassa had her swords drawn and Vorstag picked up a warhammer from Ghorza’s shop. Madanach turned slowly and made eye contact with Zenotha. She closed her eyes and loosed the arrow.

All hell broke loose. Forsworn, Markarth guards, citizens, Zenotha, Vorstag, Jenassa, and Argis all clashed in a cacophony of weapons, swearing, and blood. The Forsworn were struck down one by one until the cobblestones were red and sticky. She looked over at Thonar, who stepped through the puddles of blood gingerly to stand in front of her.

“Ah, Dragonborn.” He cleared his throat. “The, uh…. The Jarl has sent me to tell you that you have been officially pardoned and he apologizes for your imprisonment. And I have to thank you for choosing to defend my family. What’s left of it, anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Zenotha narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t do any of this for you or the Silver-Blood family. I’m sure you’ll hang me out to dry the first chance you get.”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he suddenly looked sad. She felt a pang of guilt- she had forgotten that his wife Betrid had been collateral damage in all this. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I appreciate you coming to me with this.”

“It’s not much, but this is a ring that’s been passed down through my family. It’s… a sad excuse for a thank you. But you have plenty of gold and, from what I’ve heard, plenty of ways to earn more that I don’t even want to know about.” He reached out with a simple silver ring. She took it from him and closed her fist around it. He nodded and turned, walking away slowly. Vorstag waited for Thoran to be out of sight. Then he rushed towards her, wrapping his arms around her tight. Over his shoulder, she could see Jenassa- stunned at first but then grinning wickedly. Zenotha rolled her eyes and pried herself out of the bear hug. She tucked the ring into her satchel and smiled.

Chapter Text

Vorstag stared at the fire. Zenotha had absolutely forbade him to follow her to Solitude. He had to wait and hope the assassination of the Emperor went without a hitch and that she and Jenassa would survive and not get thrown in jail. As big of a pain in the ass Jenassa was, he’d kinda gotten used to her being around- she seemed to have a knack for reigning in Zen’s anxieties.

He finished the ale in his mug and slammed it on the table. All he could do was wait for word. He’d paid off a courier he knew to come to Markarth the instant he had news, and quite generously. He couldn’t help but wish that this had all happened months ago when she was first approached about it. He wouldn’t have cared so fucking much then. Now he was here, stuck, staring at a fire and twiddling his thumbs, and kinda wishing Astrid would die in fire somewhere.

The door to Vlindrel Hall opened and closed loudly. Vorstag recognized the footsteps as Argis’. He glanced up as the man came over and lowered himself into the chair next to him. Both men sighed simultaneously. Argis eyed him.

“I know. I’m worried, too.”

“I have a contact who’s going to update us if possible.” Vorstag shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do but wait. And I hate it.”

“Well, we have plenty of time and plenty of ale. We have to put our faith in Talos now.”

Vorstag smiled. “I’m more inclined to hope that she’s in the hands of Sithis, whatever his plans for her are.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha and Jenassa skidded to a halt. Penitus Oculatus agents had formed a wall across the rampart. Zenotha forced Jenassa behind her, ready to shout as many of them as possible off a ledge. A man emerged from that wall that she recognized from Dragon Bridge months ago- Commander Maro. She sneered as she realized what was happening. Astrid had double-crossed her.

“Congratulations, Dragonborn. You killed a decoy,” Maro scoffed. “Not even a good decoy. He was a terrible actor.”

“So what do you want, Maro?” She lifted her right hand and ignited it in flames. “What are we doing here?”

“I made a deal with your…. Organization.” Maro smirked. “I get you in exchange for leaving them alone. Too bad that this all came at the cost of the death of my son, for which I cannot forgive you. I’ve sent a company of soldiers to burn your home to the ground along with everyone inside. I hate you. I hate every single one of you. I will see to the destruction of your organization and stomp your ashes with my boots!”

“Zen, what does he mean?” Jenassa seemed genuinely panicked.

“Astrid fucked us over and now he’s fucking over Astrid. We gotta get back and try to get this under control and save as many people as we can.”

“I will see you burn! Kill them!”

“Jenassa!” Zenotha erupted in a fury of flames and shouted fire towards the agents. A surge of power rose within her and she submitted to it. Flames and lightning spread outward and burned everything in sight aside from Jenassa. Maro vanished. Zenotha let out a roar and lunged forward. In a blind rage, she pulled out her daggers and just started jabbing at everything in front of her. Jenassa held back and let her carry out her sentences. When she came back to reality, there were body parts and blood littered the ramparts. She looked at Jenassa, panicked.

“I’m fine. We need to get to the Sanctuary. NOW.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“NOOO!” Zenotha screamed as she watched Arnbjorn get cut down. They’d already passed by Festus and Veezara dead on the ground. She shook her head. The whole sanctuary reeked of burning corpses. Flames billowed around them. Tears streamed down her face as she looked back at Jenassa. Small explosions rocked the sanctuary and Zenotha let out a cry. The closest thing she had to family left was not only being attacked, but being burned to the ground before her. She let her werewolf form take over, snarling and roaring as she tore through the sanctuary. She plowed through the crumbling sanctuary, clawing through any body in her way. She heard shouting further in, and reigned in her instincts. As she shrank down back to her elf form, she glanced around in tears and pulled out her bow. She heard voices from the rear of the sanctuary and pulled Jenassa’s arm behind her. They pushed through the burning cave until they found Nazir and Babette. Babette’s spider Lis was curled up dead in her little alcove. Zenotha was now truly infuriated. They followed the sounds of Nazir shouting and found him fighting off Penitus Ocularus agents in the back of the sanctuary. Jenassa sprung into action and knocked Zenotha back against the wall. Nazir came charging up the steps with Babette in hand. Zenotha grabbed their hands and pulled them behind her. Her instinct was to find the Night Mother. She would hide inside her coffin and wait out the attack on the sanctuary. She let go of her hand and pulled Jenassa in behind her. She heard a series of explosions outside of the coffin then wrapped her arms around Jenassa and pulled her in close as everything around them exploded.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“You must speak with Astrid,” The Night Mother’s weird whispery voice woke her up. “Here, in the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary.”

“Fantastic.” Zenotha sighed and shook Jenassa until she stirred.

“Are we dead?” Jenassa groaned. “Everything hurts so I’m assuming not. Unfortunate.”

The two heard voices approaching. Zenotha clapped her hand over Jenassa’s mouth, afraid it could be remaining Penitus Ocularas agents. As they got closer, though, she recognized them as Nazir and Babette. Both women relaxed and waited for Nazir topick open the lock. They both stumbled out onto the ground.

“Are you two alright? Don’t get sappy with me.” Nazir rolled his eyes. “You two are maybe the luckiest people I know.”

“I need to talk to Astrid. NOW.” Zenotha cringed at how sharp it came out. She shook her head, getting to her feet. Jenassa also stood, but waited behind. This was between Zen and Astrid.

Now that the fires had burned out, Zenatha got to get a good look at the extent of the damage. They could never live here again, not that she particularly wanted to after all this. She forced herself to blink back tears- this chapter of her life was over and there was no point in mourning it. She climbed the stairs up to where Astrid had always been waiting for her. She heard rattled breathing coming from Astrid’s room. Curious, she slowly walked towards the noise.

It was Astrid. Burned. Not even recognizable except for her voice.

“I am so sorry.” She coughed. “I thought that by betraying you, I could save my family.”

“Astrid, you’re so fucking dumb.” Zenotha smiled cruelly. “How the hell did you not see this coming? You really thought that we could murder a man’s son and he would just let us go in exchange for me? How did you ever become the leader of an assassins’ guild?”

“What I did was unforgivable.” Another rattling cough. “I deserve everything that has happened to me. Every last bit of it. Sithis will judge me accordingly. I have performed the Black Sacrament on myself. Take my dagger, the Blade of Woe, and satisfy the Night Mother and Sithis. The family now belongs to you. Take care of Nazir and Babette. She is the oldest of all of us, but she’s still partly a child. And Nazir is so cynical and I know this is only going to make it worse.”

“Don’t act like either of us is some kind of savior. I will clean up your mess, though. Gladly.”

“That is all I can ask for. Now please…” Astrid wheezed.

Zenotha paused. Astrid had betrayed her, and cost them all. It didn’t make it alright, but it was the fairest resolution. She raised the dagger over her head.

“Goodbye Astrid.” She plunged the dagger into Astrid’s chest.

“Thank you,” her final words rattled from her throat. Just like that, she was gone. It didn’t feel any better. Zenotha sighed. She stared at Astrid’s charred corpse for a moment before she stood. It was done.

When she returned the Night Mother, it was another rasping voice that greeted her.

“Astrid is dead. It is as it should be. May she find redemption in the void. But while you live, the Dark Brotherhood lives. We must fulfill our contract. Emperor Titus Mede ll must be eliminated. Speak to Amaund Motierre at the Bannered Mare in Whiterun. He will know the true Emperor’s location. But first, inform Nazir of your plans. For you are the Listener, and must bind this Family together.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha heaved a heavy sigh as she stepped back from Commander Maro’s body. She literally had his blood all over her hands and could taste it on her lips. She waited for the guards to turn and go about their business before subtly licking it off. She turned back around. It suddenly hit her that she hadn’t sent word to Vorstag or Argis, and there was no way that they hadn’t heard about the Dark Brotherhood being burned to ash. She took off at a run up to Katla’s farm. There was a courier named Fenrar that enjoyed hanging around the docks and farm in order to get jobs from the ships and Solitude. When she found him, she scribbled a quick note onto a rough piece of parchment.

“Go, as fast as you can. They’re in Markarth and probably think I’m dead.” She dug out the small pouch of gold out of one of her pockets. “They’ll give you more when you get there. Tell them that he told me I shouldn’t be traveling alone.”

“Right away.” Fenrar turned and gestured for the stable hand to ready a horse. Jenassa came up behind them.

“Are you alright?” She sounded genuinely concerned, a rare occurrence.

“We never told anyone we’re okay,” Zenotha said, mildly panicked. “Argis and Vorstag probably think we’re dead, and I can’t do much about it. I have to get on the Katariah before it leaves Skyrim. See, this is why I can’t get get involved with anyone.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jenassa snorted as Zenotha walked away. The two women started walking down to the dock to the north of Solitude. The walk felt like it was taking an eternity. Jenassa let herself get somewhat distracted as they walked- it seemed like an unusually high number of butterflies were following them along the path. Zen was silent, absent-mindedly gripping the hilt of the Blade of Woe. Jenassa’s guess was that she was trying to decide how to commit the act. She would probably resort to her trusty bow.

They rounded the corner and there it was- the Katariah. The water was calm so swimming out to the ship should be easy enough. For the first time in a very long time, it was obvious that Zenotha was nervous. Jenassa couldn’t blame her. Getting caught would cause a significant bounty on them, if not a full execution.

“I can’t wait for soaking wet leather armor,” Zenotha chuckled. “I might have to get a few more sets made. I’d rather not smell like a wet cow.”

“Neither can I.”

The two women waded into the water until they were up to their necks. Zenotha held up her pinky finger. Jenassa took it and they shook hands. They both took deep breaths then disappeared under the surface of the water. They swam underneath the boat, coming up on the opposite side. There Zenotha found the hatch that Armaund had told her to look for. She turned the handle on it. It popped open easily and they pulled themselves up into the belly of the boat, preparing for the imminent bloodbath.

The two women went floor by floor, killing every Penitus Ocularus agent they came across. Zenotha quickly lost count of how many fell to their bows, with the occasional easy kill on those who were sleeping. They picked up a small fortune in gold on the way, tucking it into the pockets hidden in their armor. It was almost worth all this on its own.

They worked their way up the several floors of the ship, splattering the walls with blood. At the very top of the final stairs, the shift in decor made it clear that they had reached the Emperor’s cabin. Fine clothes, statues, velvet curtains, and stained glass windows. Zenotha stood outside the door, holding the key that she had picked off one of the agents. She put it into the keyhole and turned it, greeted with a satisfying click. She turned the handle.

When they entered the cabin, Emperor Titus Mede ll was seated at a desk. He half chuckled. “And, once more, I prove Commander Maro the fool. I told him you can’t stop the Dark Brotherhood. You never could. Come now, don’t be shy. You haven’t come this far just to stand there gawking.”

“You were… expecting me?” Zenotha’s eyes widened in surprise.

“But of course. You and I have a date with destiny. But so it is with emperors and assassins, isn’t it? Yes. I must die, and I have accepted that. You also must be the one to deliver the blow. But I wonder, would you kindly listen to an old man and his dying wish?”

“Of course. I’m listening.”

“Thank you for your courtesy.” The old man smiled weakly. “See, regardless of the path you have chosen in Skyrim, I sense a sort of ambition, and I can respect that. However, while many would prefer to see me dead, there was a specific man or woman who set all of this in motion. That’s how your organization works, is it not? This person must be punished for their treachery. Once you get your reward, I’d like it if this person is also assassinated. Would you do me this kindness?”

“I'll ... consider it.” Zenotha swallowed nervously.

“Thank you. Now, on to the business at hand.” The Emperor stood and walked over to one of the stained glass windows, turning his back to her. Almost sad about the exchange, Zenotha readied a poisoned glass arrow and pulled back the bowstring. The old man tensed slightly, and seconds later, her arrow pierce the left side of his back, aimed at his heart. He fell forward, gripping a bookcase in front of him as the poison spread quickly through his body. He turned to sit. She could swear a slight smile spread across his face before he froze, dead. She lifted his jeweled chain necklace from his body, hopefully serving as proof of death to Amaund.

“So are you going to do it?” Jenassa piped up. Zenotha started. She had forgotten that she had been standing behind her.”

“I feel like I have to.” Zenotha sighed. “Let’s go kill Amaund.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Vorstag was devastated. The Dark Brotherhood had been burned, presumably with Zenotha inside of it. His paid courier hadn’t brought word except that a decoy of the emperor had been killed instead of the actual one. He couldn’t believe it. Somehow, Maro had figured out what was about to happen and acted before any of the Brotherhood knew what happened.

Argis had gone to the Silver-Blood Inn, hoping to hear some gossip of what had happened to Zen and Jenassa. Vorstag didn’t want to be in public when he found out that they were gone. He found himself wishing he had approached Zenotha sooner. They hadn’t had much time together, trying to keep it all under wraps- Zen had been concerned that someone related to a victim of hers would retaliate by going after him instead of her. He’d half-expected it to actually be Maro that showed up at Zenotha’s door.

Vorstag decided to go down to the stables and visit with Shadowmere. It wouldn’t make him feel any better but it was something to kill time and was possibly going to be the last piece of her left behind besides a house with too many memories. He locked the door of Vlindrel hall behind him and slowly descended the stairs to the market. Everything was just so normal all around him. He shook his head and exited the city gates. The walk to the stables was a short one, and Shadowmere came trotting up to see him.

“Hey buddy. I brought you some apples.” Vorstag smiled. The horse excitedly chomped on the apples, occasionally nudging him. He patted the side of his neck and almost didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. He drew his sword and whirled around, only to find an unfamiliar courier came running up to him. The courier stopped, panting.

“Vorstag, right?” He held out a piece of parchment.

“Yes, why?” Vorstag looked at the parchment suspiciously.

“You told her she shouldn’t be traveling alone.”

“By the eight,” he caught his breath. “She’s alright?”

“Yes.” Fenrar shoved the parchment closer to him. Vorstag took the parchment and read it quickly.

“Jenassa and I safe- Sanctuary burned, only Nazir and Babette left. True Emperor dead Please give Fenrar 100 extra gold for rushing.”

“It appears she wants me to pay you some additional gold. I”ll do it gladly. Thank you for bringing me word.” He gestured for Fenrar to follow him back into the city. 100 gold was a small price to pay for the relief he’d brought with that parchment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Ah, yes. Emperor Titus Mede ll is dead. Word arrived shortly before you did.” Amaund looked gleeful. “And now you’re here for your award. Don’t worry, there is lots of money waiting for you. Remember where we first met? Volunruud? It is there, in an urn. A note for 20,000 gold. Take it to Delvin Mallory. He’ll make good on it.”

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Motierre.” She nodded and glanced over at the door she had closed for privacy.

“Indeed.” He smiled. “You may go now.”

“Of course.”

He turned around to go back to his chair. Zenotha sprung into action, grabbing his shoulder and plunging the Blade of Woe into his back.

“We had a deal…” He trailed off as she cut his throat. He gurgled and fell to the floor. She stepped back. She looked down at her armor, wondering if anyone in the Bannered Mare would notice that she was leaving with more blood on her armor than she had come in with. She noticed a cloak draped on a chair. She grabbed it and wrapped it around her. She calmly and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her and hoping no one would smell the blood for at least long enough for her to be halfway to Markarth by then. Vorstag was surely waiting for her once she claimed her enormous reward. After all this, she was less concerned with people finding out about them. She was most worried about Jenassa finding out and teasing her endlessly.

Jenassa was waiting outside the front door of Breezehome. She leaned in as Zenotha approached. “Please tell me we can get out of here. At least three guards have walked by looking at me funny.”

“Yes, let’s go. We need to get back to Markarth and then send word to the other housecarls so they know we’re alright.”

“Whose cloak is this?” Jenassa looked at her suspiciously.

“Yeah, it’s Amaund’s. There is a LOT of blood on my armor.” She jerked her thumb towards the gate. “We need to go NOW. He’s bleeding out on the floor of the Bannered Mare and it’s bad enough Hulda saw me come in.”

“Agreed.” Jenassa quickly glanced around- there were no guards in their immediate area. They slowly walked out through the gates to try to avoid suspicion. It would only look bad if they decided to run out like criminals. The entire path down to the stables, the two women held hands nervously.

Bjorlam’s carriage was a welcome sight. They hadn’t taken Zenotha’s carriage to help avoid suspicion. Zenotha tossed a decent-sized bag of gold to him.

“I was never here.”

“Who was never here?” Bjorlam smirked. “Where to?”

“Markarth. As quickly as reasonable.”

“You have have to get back to Vorstag?”

“.... I hate you sometimes.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Vorstag fidgeted nervously. He and Argis had gone to the Silver-Blood Inn, basically to drink themselves into a stupor waiting for Zenotha and Jenassa.

“I gotta tell her how I feel.” Argis belched. This surprised Vorstag because they were only two ales in and Argis ddn’t seem like the kind of guy that talked about emotional anything without being in a full stupor.

“Oh…” Vorstag was suddenly disappointed. If Argis approached Zenotha, it was very possible she’d accept. The two had a sort of odd not-quite-flirtatious friendship that he could totally see blossoming into the closest thing either of them would probably get to love. Argis was a stronger fighter with better stories, a more established man in the area, and had a slightly better sense of humor. If it would make her happy, though, then he wouldn’t resist it. “I think you should. Zenotha’s quite lovely.”

“Zenotha?” Argis chuckled and then broke into a full on roaring laugh. “I mean, yes she is but I don’t mean her.”

“Wait, so who….” Vorstag stared at him blankly, then it dawned on him who he meant. “Jenassa? Wait, you like JENASSA? She has the emotional range of a warhammer.”

“Well yeah, if you only see her for a few minutes at a time.” Argis beamed. “But I’ve gotten to talk to her at length and she’s actually… she’s beautiful and smart and funny and everything that would explain why Zenotha is such good friends with her. Did you know she can sing like an angel? Well, kind of a raspy angel but it’s still worthy of joining the Bard’s College.”

“I guess it’s just hard to think of her as anything as a sarcastic, brutal, natural-born killer.” Vorstag grinned. “She is a hell of a fighter. You ever seen her double-wield? It’s like art.”

“Aye, I’ve seen her training with Zenotha.” Argis cocked his head to the side. “Wait, does that mean you’ve got a thing for Zenotha? That’s gotta be unfortunate- she’s quite possibly the MOST stubborn person I know besides my sister. And she may actually fully rival her. Do you think she feels the same way?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, we’ve… you know. But I don’t know that that means anything to her really. She doesn’t seem to like any sort of attachment. I’m honestly surprised that she owns so many houses.”

“Does it though? She has a house in nearly every hold, if not multiple. She can come and go to any of them as she pleases, and Jenassa with her.”

“How do you deal with Jenassa so rarely being here?” Vorstag chugged down the rest of the ale in his tankard and wiped his mouth.

“Well, she doesn’t know how I feel so I just kinda deal with it. I know that’s not really a helpful answer, though.”

“Oh I’m sure he pines for her silently and writes about it in a journal,” a familiar voice said behind them. Both men slowly turned in their chairs to see Jenassa leaning against the bar, smirking with her arms crossed. It was one of the few times the men had seen her in a dress outside of any of Zenotha’s houses. Vorstag was pretty sure that he saw what the closest thing to Argis blushing was. “So what is it you want to tell me? This sounds like a great story. Kleppr, let me get a cup of Black-Briar mead, do you mind?”

Kleppr, obviously amused, had also obviously been eavesdropping on the whole conversation. Vorstag stood awkwardly.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” He smiled slightly before ducking out of the inn. He looked around anxiously, hoping to find Zenotha, but she wasn’t anywhere that he could see. He felt slightly panicked. He had been so stressed and waited for so long for her to return that all he cared about was finding her. He rushed across the market and up the first set of stairs leading to Vlindrel Hall. He turned the corner and stared up at the heavy bronze door. He inhaled deeply and took the remaining stairs two at a time. The doors were locked, which wasn’t surprising. He fumbled with the key nervously, eventually getting the doors unlocked and open. He didn’t worry about closing them behind him as he rushed through the entry hall.

The house was empty. He searched all the rooms frantically, but Zenotha wasn’t there. Jenassa had tossed her own armor carelessly on the floor. Vorstag checked Zenotha’s room for hers, and couldn’t find it. He reached down to search the chest at the end of her bed, but pulled back his hand. It didn’t seem right to poke through her things, especially that chest in particular. It suddenly occurred to him that she might be getting armor or weapons fixed, and that meant visiting Ghorza. He ran back down the entry hallway. He almost forgot to lock the doors behind him in his rush down the stairs. He set off at a bit of a run around the stone walkway up near Understone Keep around to yet more stairs.

He stopped at the top of the stairs. He saw a flash of green and instantly recognized one of Zenotha’s favorite dresses. He stood there watching, and realized that she was having Ghorza look at her Dark Brotherhood armor. Even up where he was, he could see how much blood was on it. He shook the feeling, knowing that she’d merely done what she had been contracted to do months ago. She also had her bow and it appeared as though she was having Ghorza improve it.

Her dress had bits of jewels and embroidery that caught the sun and glinted like actual gold. She was gesturing about something, probably telling a story about their ordeal. She turned slightly towards the steps leading up to where he stood. He retreated into the shadows, still watching. She paused during her story and looked around. She could clearly feel that she was being watched and he wasn’t ready to overwhelm her. He could only imagine how she was feeling after killing the innocent emperor decoy, then nearly getting killed by Maro and his men, then watching the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary burn down around her and kill some of the first friends she’d made in Skyrim. A needy, awkward man was more than she needed to deal with right now.

“Are you going to say hello or just stare at her like a creep?” The voice was undeniably Jenassa’s. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to be gawked at after the week she’s just had.”

“The week she’s just had is why I don’t want to rush her.” He looked back at her. “I’m just happy to see her. Not seeing her or knowing what happened to her was like not seeing the sun. Seeing her now literally gleaming is enough to hold off for now.”

“I never thought I’d direct this at you, but that’s kind of beautiful.” Jenassa smirked as Vorstag looked back at Zenotha.

“So did you talk to Argis?” He sighed. “I suppose he put himself in a situation where you two pretty much had to talk.”

“Yes, we talked. And it went well. I had no idea. How long have you known?” Jenassa seemed a little embarrassed.

“About five minutes longer than you. I thought he was into Zenotha, actually. And I figured I had no chance next to him.” He rolled his eyes and looked back at her. “How did you know to find me here?”

“Honestly, I didn’t. I just knew that she had to have a couple more sets of Dark Brotherhood style armor made after we had to swim out to….” She straightened. “Well, we had to swim in our armor and it was rather unpleasant. She said she was worried she would smell like a wet cow. Anyway, I’ve noticed you watching her affectionately for months.”

“Oh no.” Vorstag chuckled and looked back towards Ghorzah’s booth. Zenotha was no longer there. “Please don’t make it awkward.?”

“Come on. Let’s go back to the house. You look pretty ragged, to be perfectly honest.”

“Thanks a lot, Jen.”

They went back around on the stone walkway past Understone Keep, the Treasury House, and a number of other homes on the way. The Silver-Blood Inn came into view. Zenotha was outside, talking to Hreinn and smiling and laughing. She looked over and saw the two of them approaching. She grinned broadly at them and motioned them to follow her. Hreinn walked her into the inn on his arm. Vorstag paused and turned back to walk up to the house. Jenassa grabbed him by the shirt collar and practically dragged him into the inn.

Almost the whole city was inside the inn, and the wine and ale were flowing. Zenotha grinned and accepted a cup of wine from Argis. Jenassa pushed Vorstag towards her gently. “Do it.”

“What? Do what?”

“What you’ve wanted to do since the first time you laid eyes on her.”

“But… I don’t know that she won’t be upset about it. In front of so many people? What if I embarrass her?”

“Listen, you didn’t see her face when she realized she hadn’t contacted you. Trust me.”

“Ahhh Vorstag!” Cosnach shouted.

“Hey…” Vorstag smiled awkwardly and took a few steps towards Zenotha. She smiled genuinely at him. He straightened up and closed the distance between them. He took her hands and pulled her towards him, kissing her in front of everyone in the inn. She tensed up at first but relaxed and let him wrap his arms around her.

“Ugh, it’s about time.” Jenassa rolled her eyes.

“Seriously.” Hreinn piped up. The rest of the room nodded in agreement, with a few of them speaking up.

Zenotha pulled away. “What? Did EVERYONE know?”

“I mean, anyone who watched you two could tell it was inevitable.” Argis and Jenassa laughed.

“Well, since everyone knows…” Zenotha clawed the front of Vorstag’s shirt and kissed him to the sound of the room erupting in cheers.

It was a good end to a hell of a week.

Chapter Text

Zenotha laughed heartily. She’d not cared much for Maven Black-Briar before, and she was sure the feeling had been mutual, but the woman had warmed up to her as she started to do more work for the Thieves’ Guild. She also eliminated a few people for Maven in secret. Maven liked to pretend that she and the Thieves’ Guild were above assassinations, but Zenotha had proved to be a very powerful bargaining tool when it came time for someone to leave Skyrim- voluntarily or dead in the ground.

She’d spent the better part of a month in Riften, and Maven had encouraged her to make it look like she was interested in another thief, Thrynn. They made sure to be seen together at various parties, and he’d even occasionally stay in her guest room to be seen coming and going. In the meantime, they went out of their way to squeeze a hand here or throw a furtive glance there to cover for Maven regularly sending them out as a team to take care of sketchy business.

They were currently at a party hosted by Jarl Laila Law-giver and the charm had to be turned all the way up. Thrynn was on one side, and Maven Black-Briar was on the other. There were a number of people she didn’t recognize around the table, but there were also several people on the “who’s who” of Skyrim. Jarls Skald the Elder and Korir were seated on either side of Laila. Hemming Black-Briar was across from Zenotha (and staring at her a LOT). Dinya and Maramal from the Temple of Mara had actually shown up, along with some of the attendants. Wylandriah rounded out the people she recognized. She made eye contact with Dinya and smiled, reaching over for Thrynn’s hand. He squeezed it and also made eye contact.

“You know, the Temple of Mara performs wedding ceremonies. You should come visit us and learn about our lady Mara.” Dinya smiled back sweetly.

“Oh.. I.. Yes, I would love to learn about I can serve Mara.” Zenotha hoped her face wasn’t giving her away. She turned to Maven and whispered. “What do I do?”

“You’re going to go through with it.” She also smiled at Dinya. “As far as you can.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. I need you two to look non-criminal, got it?” She sighed. “Listen, I have something very important in the works and I need the biggest distraction possible. If you can think of something better, let me know. But the Dragonborn getting married would pull people from all over Skyrim away from their homes and away from what I need to do.”

“So you want me to get married so you can pull off some heist?”

“Now, now. I never said you had to go through with all of it. Hell, leave him at the alter if you have to.” Maven smirked. “I’m giving both of you triple the normal rate, by the way.”

“So when do we need to do this?” Zenotha grinned.

“You can work that out with Mr Muscle over there. You have a month to plan or I go elsewhere.” Maven waved her away and turned to Jarl Korir. Zenotha turned to Thrynn.

“So Maven wants us to go through setting up the wedding because she’s got big plans. Triple payment. 2,100 gold each.

“For that I’ll parade you around on my shoulders and preach about Mara to anyone within a five mile radius.”

“Sounds good, darling,” Zenotha said, loud enough for the others at the table to hear. “Dinya, I’ll come to see you tomorrow, is that alright?”

“Yes, Thane Zenotha.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“What do you mean she’s getting married?” Vorstag was stunned.

“She’s been seen over a good portion of Skyrim wearing an amulet of Mara, and has been spending time with a man named Thrynn in Riften.” Iona cleared her throat. “I don’t know much more than that. I got sent out to spread word to the other housecarls and am only telling you because Argis is here. No offense to you, of course.”

“I can’t believe…” Vorstag trailed off and looked at Argis. Argis just shrugged. “Thank you, Iona.”

The somewhat confused woman half-bowed and left Vlindrel Hall as quicky and quietly as she had entered. The two men sat at the nearby table.

“Whatever makes her happy, I guess.” Vorstag shook his head in disappointment. “I just really thought we had something after the Emperor fiasco. But, she also nearly died so I guess the sheer relief of it…. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. No wonder she hasn’t been to Markarth in almost a month. She’s happy in Riften.”

“Is happy in Riften actually even a thing?” Argis wrinkled his nose. “Only been there twice but happiness doesn’t seem like a popular commodity.”

Vorstag couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think it’s a thing if your last name is Black-Briar.”

“So what do we know about this Thrynn fellow? I’ve never even heard her mention him before, so how are they suddenly pledged to each other?”

“I don’t know, Argis. And I don’t really want to think about it.”

“Do you think he could be a Black-Briar?”

“No. Maven’s sons have different names. Sibbi and… Hemming, I think. And she only has the two sons and one daughter.”

“Oh… “ Vorstag trailed off absentmindedly.

“Listen, you have to stop the wedding.”

“What? Why? She’s getting married because she wants to marry him.”

“Maybe she doesn’t realize how you feel. Show up, speak up, and stop it.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“How is it a bad idea?” Argis raised an eyebrow.

“It’s gross. It’s predatory. And could ruin her day. It’s about her and this Thrynn guy. I’m not a part of this.”

“You seriously are just going to let her go? Not even fight for her?”

“No. The only thing I’m fighting is bandits. And necromancers….. And draugr. Enemies. The only thing I’m fighting is enemies. I’m done talking about it.”

“Fine, fine.” Argis threw up his hands. “Suit yourself.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Yes, Lady Black-Briar sent ahead the gold for your dress.” Taarie beamed.

“Actually, I’d like to commission three gowns if you have the time.” Zenotha smiled back.

“Three?” She was stunned.

“Yes. The dress that Lady Black-Briar requested, and then a gown each for Jenassa and me.”

“Is the first dress for Lady Black-Briar?” Taarie looked star-struck.

“Oh, yes. She spoke very highly of a gown you had made me before. She said she had to have one of her own. We also figured out that we’re about the same size, and she wants the dress to fit as flatteringly as possible, so I’m here to be a live mannequin, with Lady Black-Briar being so bust as of late.”

“Well, you are in capable hands, deary.” Taarie plucked her measuring tape off of a nearby table. “What colors are you thinking?”

“I believe Lady Black-Briar wants a light colored gown. Maybe a pretty cream color? She didn’t specify. Jenassa’s gown… she looks best in blue I think. And mine… I would love another green gown. Cost is no issue.”

“Yes, I agree Lady Jenassa looks like a divine in blue. And green goes so wonderfully with your eyes.”

“I want our gowns to sparkle. More than anything you’ve made so far. Embroidery like no one in Skyrim has seen yet. Flowers and birds and the sun and moon and just everything. I have an affinity for those purple mountain flowers. I want the inside of the sleeves to be the prettiest copper you can find. The inside of Jenassa’s sleeves, pure white silk. I want us to be seen for miles.”

“I look forward to it very much. Tell me, what are these gowns for, exactly? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“A wedding.”

“Oh? Is it your wedding?”

“I can’t say whose it is.” Zenotha smirked.

“Well I will make all three worthy of being wedding gowns.”

“I know I can always count on you, Taarie.” Zenotha smiled softly. She was glad that the two women had become almost friends. “I love everything you do for me.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thrynn smiled at her proudly. “This is maybe the best heist we’ve pulled off. Do you know where Maven’s plan is going to be?”

“In a rare move, she’s having her goons raid a mine with a lot of gold veins. She estimates that there is about 15,000 gold’s worth of gold there. And she has had word that the owner of the mine will be at our supposed wedding.”

“Who is it?”

“A certain Lord Branach Traucher.”

“Get the fuck out. This is all to rob him?”

“Yep. Hence the increased pay. And he is so ready to support us on our day. He’s an ardent follower of Mara and has taken note of the work I’ve been doing for our lady. He is so utterly devoted to her that he has taken care of the fee for the wedding and made an offering to the temple large enough to pay for this ridiculous dress.” Zenotha inhaled sharply as Iona tightened her corset. “I would never wear this to get married in real life, by the way. Too easily stained with blood.”

“Ah yes. I always forget you’re a werewolf. I’m lucky you haven’t torn me to pieces yet.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t needed to, yet.” Zenotha winked at him. “You’ve been the best fake lover a girl could ask for.”

“And the same to you.” Thrynn smiled. “Alright, are you ready to break my heart and make a spectacle?”

“I sure am. Better head over there now. I”ll be over in about fifteen minutes.”

Thrynn smiled at her and gracefully swooped out of the house. Zenotha sighed and fingered the amulet of Mara she’d been wearing for the last month for appearances’ sake. She couldn’t lie, she liked her heightened healing abilities for tight pinches with Jenassa. She couldn’t wait to go back to Markarth. She’d stayed away to uphold the image of being with Thrynn and she couldn’t wait to get back to kissing or fucking whoever she wanted. Not that she was frequent at either, and not that she disliked Thrynn’s company- there had been a drunken night the week before where she had considered sleeping with him but then caught sight of a silly ring Vorstag had given her, also in a drunken state. He said it had belonged to his mother and was too small for any of his fingers, and he thought she might like the green stone because of her eyes. He’d then hiccuped and fallen asleep. She was pretty sure he couldn’t remember any of it, and she rarely wore the ring, but she had happened to have it on that night for some reason. She took another deep sigh and nodded to Iona.

“Are you ready, my Thane?”

“I am, Iona. And I cannot stress enough that you must keep all of this to yourself. You will cooperate, yes?” Zenotha looked at her sharply.

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. You know Maven Black-Briar hates making unnecessary threats against people I like, and I rather like you.” Zenotha took a quick look in her hand mirror. “Does my makeup look alright?”

“Yes, my Thane.” Iona swallowed hard. “Lady Black-Briar will be happy. You look like a very convincing blushing bride. The prettiest I’ve ever seen, anyway.”

“Very well. Let’s walk over. Tell me, how should I leave him? Should it be dramatic? ‘I can’t go through with this, I’m sorry’?”

“I would cry if you could, also.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Get me some onion bits to rub on my eyes.”

“My Thane, do you plan to ever marry? Genuinely?”

“I don’t know. I have some very beautiful dresses commissioned that would maybe work.”

“I think that Ser Vorstag is interested in you in that way.”

“You mustn’t talk about that today. Maven has eyes and ears all over Skyrim.” Zenotha half-smiled. “I am here and Thrynn is here and we’re going to get married.”

“Yes, my Thane. I think it’s time.” Iona reached over to the table next to her and minced a few pieces of onion. “Here, take these. You’re going to look beautiful fleeing the temple.”

“Let’s go.” Zenotha smiled and walked out of the front door. Iona followed her closely. They walked towards the temple slowly, with Zenotha subtly rubbing the sides of her eyes with the onion pieces and tossing them aside. By the time they reached the temple, Zenotha was starting to legitimately cry. Iona rushed in front of her and up the steps to open the doors to the temple. Zenotha climbed up the steps and walked in. She glanced around at the full pews of people and then made eye contact with Thrynn. He smiled and nodded as her cue. She froze and grabbed Iona’s hand.

“My Thane, are you alright?” Iona’s fake concern was good enough, she supposed.

“No,” Zenotha shook her head aggressively. “I can’t do this! I’m sorry!”

“Wait what?” Dinya was genuinely confused.

“I can’t go through with this!” Zenotha gathered up her skirts and turned, fleeing from the temple. Iona looked back at the crowd gathered and shook her head, shrugging. She then followed Zenotha out and across Riften. She heard the door to Honeyside slam. She stopped for a moment, looking behind her to see if anyone had followed them. Fortunately, they hadn’t. She ran over the bridge to the front door of Honeyside and threw it open, just in time for Zenotha to let out a loud wail. Iona closed the door behind her. Zenotha covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. Iona nodded and grinned.

“Oh I could hug you.” She held her arms out for a hug and Iona walked over to her. “I couldn’t have done this without you, believe it or not.”

“I didn’t really help…”

“Yes, you did. I needed you to pull this off. It’s hard for me to look innocent ever.”

“Well, if you say so.”

“I can’t wait to get back to Markarth.”

“Markarth?” Iona was confused.

“Yes. You can come along if you like. It might actually help me look like I just can’t deal with this. I need to get a thank-you to Thrynn, though. Can you do that?”

“Well yes, but…”

“No buts.” Zenotha grabbed the closest piece of paper and started scribbling on it. “Get this to Thrynn. It thanks him for being so kind and apologizes for having to leave, is all. Get this to him. I’ll change and pack up for Markarth. Go. Now!”

Zenotha frantically stripped out of her white faux wedding gown. As Iona slipped out of the house, Zenotha raced around the house packing. The other two gowns from Taarie were already packed up and were ready. She fidgeted with her jewelry box. Her hands were shaking and she had trouble opening it. When she finally got it open, she took out her favorite emerald and copper circlet, along with the copper and emerald ring from Vorstag. Her hands were still shaking as she fought to put it on. Once it was one, she surveyed the room- everything else she needed for the journey was packed. She put aside a small purse of gold to pay Bassianus to help haul out their luggage. She squirmed into a simple brown dress.

Iona burst into the house. “My thane, we need to go.”

“Here, take this gold to Bassianus in the Bee and Barb. Tell him we need muscle to get these trunks out. I can take this one myself, and I’ll stay in the carriage.” Zenotha grabbed a nearby cloak and wrapped herself in it. She grabbed the handle of her main trunk. “Go outside and try to keep my way clear.”

Zenotha slipped out the front door of Honeyside as quietly as she could. She lugged the trunk as much in the shadows as she could, getting to and slipping out of the front gate. Her personal carriage was waiting outside, and Barron lept into action to help her get the trunk into the back of the carriage. She slipped into the carriage and flattened herself on the seat.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bassianus and Iona came running up with the other two trunks. They got the trunks loaded, and Iona also slipped into the carriage. Barron hopped onto the driver’s bench and stirred the horse into action. Exhausted, Zenotha laid down with her head in Iona’s lap and drifted off to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha rushed into Vlindrel Hall. Iona and two farmhands dragged the trunks in behind her. They put the trunks down, then Iona waved the men outside.

“Oh it’s so good to be back.” Zenotha smiled. “I love it here.”

“Let me take your trunk to your room.” Iona smiled, tired.

“Argis! Are you here? Can you help with my trunks please?” Zenotha peered down the hall. A few moments later, he came down to them. “Oh, thank you so much. Here, put this one in Jenassa’s room, and these two are mine.”

“Yes, my Thane.” Argis and Iona headed further into the house. Zenotha pulled off her gloves and put them on one of the small tables. She inhaled sharply. Walking further into the house, she looked around the house, looking for Vorstag. He wasn’t there. She walked over to the fire and sat down. She poured herself a glass of wine and nursed it while listening to Iona and Argis in the background. About a half an hour later, Argis and Iona came out to address her.

“Iona and I are going to join Jenassa in the Silver-Blood Inn.”

“Please, enjoy yourselves.” Zenotha smiled but didn’t turn. The two paused then headed down the hall and out to the stone steps. The house was silent except for the crackling fire, and she again nodded off.

About an hour later, the sound of the front doors closing woke her. She readied flames on her left hand and turned to look behind her chair.

It was Vorstag.

“Vorstag…” She extinguished her flames and turned towards the other fireside chair. She gestured for him to sit. He sighed, then sat reluctantly. “It’s been so long. I’m sorry I’ve been away so long.”

“You had important things to do.” His gaze shifted down to her amulet of Mara. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“What? Oh no, noooo…” She chuckled. “I had a job to do for Maven Black-Briar. I just did my job.”

“Well, I hope you’re happy, at least.”

“What.. what are you talking about?”

“Your wedding. Everyone knows.”

“No, I’m serious. It was a job for Maven. I didn’t actually get married. Can you imagine me getting married?” Zenotha snorted. She rested her hand on the arm of the chair. Vorstag noticed the ring.

“Is that… my mother’s ring?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, this? Yes. You gave it to me a few months ago to go with this circlet.”

“I know why I gave it to you.”

“Oh. Of course. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Marry me.”

The statement came as she was sipping her wine. She spit it out ungracefully. “What?”

“You heard me. Marry me. You wouldn’t be wearing the amulet if you weren’t open to the idea. You already have the ring. Knowing you, you even already have a dress.”

“Shit, am I that predictable?”

“Yes. Yes you are.” He grinned. “Are you going to make me do the down on one knee thing?”

“Yep.”

“Fine.” Vorstag slid out of the chair and knelt in front of her, laughing. “Zenotha, you pain in the ass, marry me.”

“Romantic.”

“Yes or no will suffice.”

“Yes, uh… sure. I think. Yes.” She leaned down to kiss him. They both grinned.

“I’ll take it.”

Chapter Text

Zenotha wrapped her arms around the satchel carefully. What was inside was some of the most precious cargo she’d carried in quite a while. Jenassa kept looking at her and snorting, but deep down Zenotha knew she thought it was a good idea.

Engar was prepping the carriage for them when they arrived at Windstad Manor. He waved at them and motioned for Valdimar to come over. Valdimar came over with the basket that Zenotha had sent a letter requesting. Zenotha walked up to the two men, grinning.

“Do I even want to know what this is about, Serah?” Valdimar was simultaneously confused AND amused.

“We’re doing something nice for someone who deserves it. Well, mostly deserves it. Her attitude could use some work but after what she’s been through, I can’t particularly say I blame her.”

“‘Her attitude could use some work’ is a bit generous.” Jenassa rolled her eyes dramatically. “Honestly I’m surprised you even deal with her at all.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice to begin with. Actually, I probably mostly avoided her at the start.”

“Well, as long as it’s not dangerous.” Valdimar smiled awkwardly.

“I mean…” Zenotha winced. “It’s a tad bit dangerous potentially. Hopefully not on the way, though. We just need to get to Dawnstar, so let’s go. You’re coming with us.”

The two women piled into the carriage with their bags. Valdimar ran back into the house quickly without saying anything to either of them, and came out a few minutes later juggling three mugs with steaming contents. He grinned as he awkwardly climbed up, trying not to spill anything.

“Hot cocoa?” Jenassa’s face lit up.

“Yep.”

“What’s that?” Zenotha cocked her head to the side quizzically.

“You’ve never had it?” Valdimar raised an eyebrow.

“If I’d had it before, do you think I’d be asking what it is?”

“Listen I don’t know if you elves have it and call it something.” Valdimar shift uncomfortably as the two elven women stared at him, unblinking. “Yeah that came out badly.”

Zenotha took one of the mugs from him and looked at Jenassa. “Does it have booze in it?”

Jenassa chortled. “I mean, you can put it in there, but it tastes the best without it. It’s like…. Well, like hot liquid chocolate. Really hot, be careful.”

Zenotha raised the mug and sipped carefully. There was a sort of milk foam on top of it that was a bit confusing but also delicious. She instantly perked up.

“This is…. Amazing!” The carriage started moving and she almost spilled it. “Whoops, that would have been terrible.

The trio sat in silence for a while, with Jenassa and Valdimar both equally amused by Zenotha’s first experience with hot cocoa. It began to snow lightly, and the whole ride to Dawnstar was cheesily perfect.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“What if she doesn’t like him?” Zenotha wrapped the blanketed bundle slightly tighter. “I mean, should I have asked first?”

“Zen, it’ll be fine. If she doesn’t like him, then you can raise him.” Jenassa was mildly annoyed at being asked for approximately the twentieth time today.

“I can barely even take care of a house plant.”

“Well then, you better hope she likes him.”

“Why don’t YOU raise him if she doesn’t?”

“What, and you think I’m any better at taking care of anything?” Jenassa laughed heartily. “And the number of times I’ve kept you alive are not the same thing.”

“That was one time, and Shadowmere helped.”

“I’m gonna let that one go because you’re partly right and you buy me pretty dresses and feed me.”

The duo entered the Dawnstar Sanctuary through the secret entrance outside the city. Zenotha crept down the ladder and snuck through the swinging glass portrait. Jenassa was right behind her and tripped over the doorframe.

“Shhhhhhh!” Zenotha hissed at her.

“Hello, Listener.” Babette had entered the main hall of the Sanctuary. “You smell like death.”

“Ah, yeah I guess I do.” Zenotha straightened. “I, uh, have something for you. I understand if you don’t want him, but we were in a cave and his mother was dead, and I thought maybe you’d like to take care of him now.”

Babette slowly walked across the room as Zenotha pulled back the blanket to reveal a newborn frostbite spider. He blinked his eyes and looked between Zenotha and Babette. He worked his two front legs out of the blankets. “I know he’s not Lis, and could never replace, but…”

“He’s perfect.” Babette excitedly took the bundle from her. “He’s young enough that he’ll learn to live with people and not want to hurt them. No, he’s not Lis, but I think she would have liked to have a friend around.”

“What are you going to name him?”

“Hrmmm… Lorkhaj. It means ‘moon beast’. Like Arnbjorn. And you.” She hugged her new pet gently. She started walking towards her room but paused and looked back at Zenotha. “And thanks, Zen.”

Chapter Text

Zenotha scrubbed her hands over the washbasin. Blood was dried and crusted in the cracks in her skin and under her fingernails. She’d made a mistake this time. She’d gotten a tip from a mercenary about a nearby camp overrun with bandits.

They weren’t bandits. They were just hunters. Granted, they attacked her unprovoked, but she wouldn’t have been there if not for the bad information. At least there weren’t any kids there- even she had to draw the line somewhere.

Jenassa wordlessly brought her some fresh towels and took away the blood-soaked ones. It had been her idea to go to Lakeview Manor instead of to Markarth. Zenotha didn’t feel particularly willing to see Vorstag at the moment. While he was relatively understanding and tolerant of her questionable work and would probably be so about this, the last thing she wanted to deal with was his unwavering optimism and he’d probably tell her to take a vacation again.

Faendal came in with a mildly disapproving look on his face but she recognized the smell of Camilla’s tea immediately. She was going to have to ask her how to make it. He placed it on the small table nearest the washbasin and sat down at the main hall table.

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks, Faendal. You always know how to make a girl feel better.”

“What was it this time?”

“Mercenary gave me bad info and sent me to slaughter a group of hunters that I thought would be bandits.”

“Well, you know what you have to do, right?”

“Hunt down the mercenary and send them to Sybille Stentor?”

“Wait, what?” Faendal grimaced in confusion. “Why would you send them to Sybille?”

“Because of the whole thing with the…” Zenotha pointed to her teeth and made a clicking sound. “You know…”

“What? Zen, use your words.”

“Did I never tell you she’s a vampire? I could have sworn I did.” Zenotha rubbed her temple. “I guess I didn’t tell you. I don’t think you were at the banquet where I figured it out. Anyway. She and I both know about the other’s…. Abilities, for lack of a better term. “

“Do Jenassa and Vorstag know?”

“Vorstag definitely does, and I’m sure Jenassa figured it out even before I did.” Zenotha looked down at her hands, mostly clean except for a few spots. “Out, damned spots! Geez.”

She sat down next to Faendal, taking the cup of tea with her. They sat in silence for a few moments while she gulped her tea. Faendal definitely looked like he had something to say, but he had always been polite and knew when not to pry. She rolled her eyes and gestured towards him. “Alright, out with it, Faendal.”

“Rumor has it that you’re going to marry Vorstag. Is that true?”

“Let me guess who told you that- Jenassa?”

“Surprisingly, no. Argis got drunk and told a courier, who told Rayya, who told me.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She set the mug down a little too hard and some tea splashed up on her hand. “Oh for FUCK’S SAKE!”

“I brushed it off as a rumor, and I think Rayya did, too.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Is it, though? A rumor?”

“He asked me, yes. I’m honestly not sure how serious he was but I said yes. It was right after that mess with the fake engagement to Thrynn. I don’t know if it was a knee-jerk reaction or not. He’s certainly not mentioned it since. And I’m not overly concerned.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell anyone until or unless it’s public knowledge.”

“With how fast the news of the fake wedding spread, I’ve no doubt that you won’t need to tell anyone.”

“So this would be a bad time to tell you Elisif is throwing you another big party?” Faendal half-smiled awkwardly. “Turns out that courier also told Falk Frebeard, which of course means that Sybille and Elisif both know.”

Zenotha stared at Faendal, unblinking, then turned her attention to the small bit of tea still left in her mug. She sighed, then sipped the rest of the tea, put the mug down, stood up, and walked into her bedroom. Faendal didn’t follow. Seconds later, the unmistakable sound of Zenotha screaming into one of her pillows drifted out. Rayya happened to walk into the main hall at the perfect moment to hear it.

“I take it you told her?”

“Yes? It’s going about as well as expected.” Faendal pointed to her room. Rayya sighed and walked over to the door. She poked her head into the room. Zenotha was face down on her bed.

“Serah? May I come in?”

“Yef,” came the muffled response from the pillow. Zenotha rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling.

“I’m going to regret asking this, but what’s wrong?”

“I’m not ready for any of this. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet.” She turned her head to look at Rayya. “Everyone hates me for leaving Thrynn at the altar because they don’t realize it was part of Maven’s scam.”

“....So don’t do it.” Rayya crossed her arms and shrugged. “It’s not like you don’t have bigger things to worry about. Have you STILL not gone to see the Greybeards?”

“Um…,” Zenotha winced. “No?”

“See that right there is a very big thing you need to have taken care of like…. Six months ago.” Rayya shook her head. “Seriously, why haven’t you taken care of it?”

“I just have a feeling that all of this is somehow tied to the civil war. And that is going to be a very big thing that I don’t know that I can handle.”

“So pick one. I mean, you have to do both, but pick which to do now and which to do later. One thing at a time.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Geez, I know they call it the 7000 steps and it’s an exaggeration, but it’s starting to feel like almost that many.” Jenassa groaned with nearly every step. “Also, have I mentioned how much I hate the cold? Especially THIS cold?”

“You have, but I feel like it’s worth saying again.” Zenotha adjusted the pack with the supplies from Klimmek. “At least we’re doing some good by bringing this crap up there for them?”

“Remind me what good we’re doing when we get up there and find a fire to warm up near.”

“I don’t think either of us is built for this. How can these Nords deal with this?” They trudged up the steps slowly. Hopefully they were almost to the top. They’d run into multiple wolves and a troll, and were both ready to be done with the whole mess.

“So we’re doing this now so you can have an excuse to not get married? This seems like a bit of an extreme measure.”

“Listen, I’m not only doing this to not get married. Don’t you want to find out what the fuck is going on with the dragon attacks? If the Thalmor or the Stormcloaks are really involved?”

“I wouldn’t be at all upset to find out the Stormcloaks are somehow behind this, though most of the Nords we’ve met so far probably aren’t smart or charismatic enough to be behind this, and I feel like the Thalmor could find a much easier and more predictable way of stirring this all up.”

“Look, I think that’s High Hrothgar.” Zenotha pointed suddenly. “And the chest Klimmek mentioned for his supplies.”

“Looks like things are about to get serious, Zen,” Jenassa said. She gestured to the door. “After you, Dragonborn.”

Chapter Text

Vorstag was a mess.

He was so agitated that it was rubbing off on Argis, and Argis was pretty tempted to tell him to fuck off and stress at one of Zen’s other homes. He was constantly wringing his hands, sighing, and jumping at just about everything. Argis was subsequently rolling his eyes almost as much as Zen did. The only thing he could think of was Zenotha’s extended absence. It had been almost a month since she’d left for Solitude on some quest for the Bards College. She’d also only sent one letter while she was gone, so she was likely digging through some cave or ruin.

A shattering sound echoed out of the next room, followed by a stream of profanity. Argis sighed, and walked over to the doorway. Vorstag had bumped into a Dwarven vase and knocked it over.

“Ugh, Zenotha hated that thing.” Argis chuckled. “I hated it, too. It’s fine.”

Vorstag half smiled. He grabbed the broom leaning against the bedroom wall and unceremoniously swept the pieces out for Argis to pick up. The two men cleaned up in silence. Vorstag started picking up small things that were lying around and out of place. Argis tilted his head and watched for a few moments. “Hey. You okay?”

“I just… I worry about her so much when shes gone like this.”

“You know how the job is. And you knew before you liked her.”

“That doesn’t make it easier. I know she’s going to be gone a lot. The job will always come first. I just worry.” His shoulders relaxed and sighed. “I’ve always been worried for her and I know I have no right to be.”

“Not entirely true. You love her, and she agreed to marry you. If she wasn’t interested in someone worrying about her, she wouldn’t have even slept with you to begin with, much less agreed to marry you.” Argis smiled. “Do you have a hobby? Something to pass the time? A pleasant distraction.”

“A hobby?”

“Yeah. Like I knit, for example.” Argis pointed to a wooden hoop with small pegs on a nearby table. There was an unfinished yarn project on it. “I like making hats and scarves.”

“YOU knit? Big strong burly housecarl. Knitting.”

“Yeah, why not? What am I supposed to do, just throw axes for days on end while Jenassa’s gone?”

“Could….. You teach me?”

“Of course.” Argis grinned. “You’re gonna make something for her, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. Let me get decent at if first so she doesn’t wind up with some tangled mess of yarn?”

“Sounds fair. Here, let’s go pick out some yarn.”

Just as the two men stood, there was a knock on the heavy front doors. Argis furrowed his brow. Vorstag headed down the front hall and opened the door to find a courier holding a fancy-looking envelope out to him. “A letter for you from Falk Firebeard. Someone’s got important friends.”

Vorstag fumbled with the envelope as he walked back into the main room of the house. He removed the letter, scanned it quickly, and looked up at Argis. “We’ve been invited to a celebration in Solitude. Looks like the knitting will have to wait.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jenassa straightened the fur on Vorstag’s outfit. She’d fussed over all of the housecarls and stewards who’d made it up to Solitude and caused a number of eyerolls. He popped a couple of knuckles. She covered his hands with hers and looked him in the eye.

“Relax. We’re all here for Zen and we’re going to make her look good, okay?” She smiled. “And you get to see her when the party’s over. I’ll even leave you two alone in the house. And make sure Jordis does too.”

Vorstag opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by horns. Part of the gathered crowd near the Blue Palace began to cheer. Jenassa squeezed his shoulder and pointed as the procession appeared over the hill. As it drew nearer, they could make out Jarl Elisif in the front, waving politely to the people on both sides. Directly behind her were Bolgeir Bearclaw and Falk Firebeard. There was a short break, then were Sybille Stentor and Zenotha. Zenotha was on the other side of the procession from her friends, so they only got glimpses of her. Most of them cheered and waved, but Vorstag froze. Zenotha was wearing a dress he hadn’t seen before- black satin. It was form-fitting, with her shoulders bared. There was an elaborate neck piece made of leather, with feathers and beads hanging down to her waist. Her black hair had been elborately braided and piled on her head around a silver and emerald circlet. Her gaze didn’t meet his and he didn’t realize he wasn’t breathing until the procession was nearly past them. He glanced over at Jenassa, who smirked at him as she elbowed him in the side.

Viarmo gestured for them to enter the courtyard first. As they filed in and sat down, Vorstag glanced over at the row of seats on the dais. Zenotha was chatting with Sybille and looked far happier to be doing so than the last interaction he witnessed.

“Oh geez, this bitch.” Jenassa tsked.

“What? What about her?”

“I don’t know. Something’s off about her and I can’t place it.”

“According to Zen, Sybille’s a vampire.”

‘WHAT?” Jenassa hissed.

“Remember that banquet right after the Maro incident? Zenotha got close enough to her to figure it out. She smelled it or something, I don’t know.” Vorstag sighed. “I keep forgetting she’s a werewolf.”

“Surprising, considering we’ve both seen what she’s capable of.”

“Stop.” He glared at her. “You know she’s ashamed of that. Don’t be so flippant about it. She only did it because she was in danger.”

“Oof. I did not mean to trigger that response. I’m sorry. I forget that you’re sweet on her.” Jenassa looked up and swatted him. “Viarmo’s about to start the ceremony.”

Viarmo had stepped down as a group of men carried out a giant straw effigy. The crowd fell silent. Zenotha stood in front of her seat and waited patiently.

“Welcome, people of Solitude! We of the Bards College are proud to be here to celebrate the Burning of King Olaf. The festival would not have been possible without the dedication and hard work of our newest inductee. With the lighting of the effigy, she becomes a full-fledged member of the Bards College. Please welcome Zenotha Aedius!”

Jorn brought a torch over to Zenotha, who gracefully accepted it and walked over to the effigy. She gestured for Elisif to join her, and the two women together placed the fire at the base of it and stepped back as the flames swept upward. The audience roared with applause. Zenotha squeezed Elisif’s hands.

A band of College musicians struck up a song, and the crowd was more than ready for a party. Bolgeir Bearclaw and Falk Firebeard came down the dais steps and reached out to them. Bolgeir took Elisif’s hand and Falk took Zenotha’s. The two couples danced for the first song, then the thanes and housecarls joined in, then it opened up to the rest of the crowd.

Vorstag stood and started to walk over. Jenassa stopped him.

“Stay here with us. You’ll see her later.”

“I haven’t seen her in a month. You get to travel with her and see her every day.”

“And you can wait another hour or so. This is about Zen, about Elisif, and about the Bards College.”

“Fine.” He sighed. “You’re right, you’re right. Unfortunately, that means you, Rayya, or Jordis is dancing with me, because I’m not NOT dancing.”

“I’m already dancing with Rayya.” Faendal swooped in and grabbed Rayya’s hands. She laughed and the two whirled off.

“And I’m dancing with Jenassa.” Argis moved Vorstag out of the way by his shoulders and gently took Jenassa’s hand. She winked at Vorstag and gracefully sashayed away with him.

“I don’t dance. But I do like food and there’s a lot of food….” Jordis grinned. “Come on, let’s go pig out.”

Vorstag threw one more glance over in Zenotha’s direction and chuckled at the circle of men (and a few women) lingering near her, obviously hoping for a chance at getting her attention. He then gladly followed Jordis to the food stands. She lit up when she saw the meat pies.

“Sorex has the best meat pies! He doesn’t make them very often, but they’re perfect. You have to try one.” She handed Sorex a small handful of gold and took a tray with four meat pies. “Come on, let’s sit over here. We can people watch.”

They walked over to a seat on the edge of the courtyard. They sat in silence for a moment and scarfed down the meat pies. Jordis looked at him curiously. He watched the dancers whirling around, flashes of color from the extravagant outfits.

“You know she really does care about you deeply, don’t you?” Jordis smiled wistfully.

“Yeah, I do. I worry about her so much and I know I shouldn’t focus on it. Argis is going to teach me how to knit, can you believe it? It’s what he does while Jenassa’s off with Zen.”

“That sounds like a good way to kill time. And it’s kind of sweet- you make something and send it off with them so they have a piece of you with them.” She screwed up her face. “Actually, that’s rather sappy, ugh.”

“Is there not a special someone that you would like to send scarves with?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“You have my word.”

“That’s not really super reassuring.” She smiled broadly. “I have a thing for Sorex, believe it or not.”

“Oh by the eight, are you using liking the meat pies to flirt?”

“Not entirely. You’ve had them now and know they’re legitimately delicious. I just happen to also like the person who makes them.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Vorstag looked back at Sorex instinctively. He caught Sorex staring at them and guffawed. He looked back at her.

“Oh I could never.” Jordis looked mortified. “I’d flirt awkwardly, get shot down, and avoid the front gate of Solitude for the rest of my life.”

“That’s why you get someone else to pull the strings for you.”

“Don’t you dare, Vorstag! I will legitimately kill you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I could do it in passing and be subtle. Trust me, he won’t know I’m doing it for you.” He leaned in. “I also just happened to catch him staring at you just now, so I think it would go well. And I need to kill time before Zen can get away from this party.”

“Fine, go ahead. But make sure you get more meat pies while you’re there, at least.”

Vorstag chuckled. He stood, stretched his arms, and walked over to the stand. Sorex smiled, slightly uncomfortably. “Can I get two more meat pies?”

Sorex awkwardly put the two pies on the tray. “You two must really enjoy them.”

“I mean, I definitely think that they’re the best meat pies I’ve ever had. Pretty sure Jordis likes them too, but you’d have to ask her. You should definitely ask her, in fact. I tried to get her to dance and had no luck. Maybe she’ll dance with you?” Vorstag turned to look back at Jordis just as Zenotha excused herself from the courtyard and slipped onto the main street.

“Go. I’ll check in on Jordis.” Sorex’s smile broadened. Vorstag grinned back and followed Zenotha. He walked out onto the street just as she rounded the corner onto the stairs of Proudspire Manor. He broke into a run and reached the front door just as it closed. He stopped for a moment, then went in behind her.

“Zen…” He stepped back as Zenotha whirled around with a dagger in her hand.

“Vorstag you scared me!” She threw the dagger aside. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to him. “I’ve missed you. And been so worried.”

“I sent you letters, V.” She pushed his hair out of his face.

‘What? I only got one. Right after you left Markarth.”

“One? I… Oh no.” She furrowed her brows. “What the fuck happened to the others…. I’m sorry.”

“You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He smiled. “Jenassa had to keep me from charging at you earlier.”

“Oh did she?” Zenotha laughed. “I’m surprised you let her.”

“This was worth it.” He lowered his gaze to her dress. “This is unlike anything I’ve seen. It makes you look more like a warrior than any of your armor. I was speechless. I even stopped breathing.”

“Oh now you’re just flattering me.” She leaned in to kiss him. He gladly reciprocated. “Come on. I know for a fact you sent Sorex to occupy Jordis.”

“Ouch. Am I that predictable?”

“Sometimes. This time it works in your favor.”

“Did I mention how badly I missed you?”

“Yes, but you can tell me again. And show me.” She smirked. “Upstairs. Now.”

Chapter Text

Vorstag rolled over with a groan and threw his arm over where he was absolutely sure Zenotha was just a moment before. He furrowed his brow.

“Zen?” he raised his head to look around the room. “Where are you? You still here?”

When he didn’t hear a response for a few moments, he rolled out of bed. He pulled a light blanket off with him since he couldn’t immediately see where his pants had been thrown the night before. Blanket adequately wrapped, he walked out of the room. He heard Zenotha’s signature throat-clearing downstairs.

She was in a light dressing robe reading letters and sipping tea at the dinner table. He hesitated on the last step to watch her. A few moments went by before she turned her head to the side and tossed the letter onto the table. “I know you’re there.”

“Yes,” Vorstag whispered.

“Well come here and have some breakfast. I haven’t the foggiest idea where Jordis is, but let’s enjoy the quiet while we can.”

“Wait, Jordis still isn’t back?”

“Back from what?” Zenotha watched him as he walked over and sat down. “Do you mean she still isn’t back from Sorex?”

“I mean, I don’t see or hear her. I doubt she popped in just to leave again. You obviously know her far better than I do.”

“If Jordis being smitten with Sorex buys us a few of these mornings, I won’t complain.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s at least noon.”

“I’ve been awake for less than an hour. So it is morning.” She smirked. “And I’m in no rush to be anywhere else or put on any more clothes. If it can be helped.”

Zenotha went back to her letters and sat in silence as she carefully read each one. One seemed to particularly annoy her but she made no comment and Vorstag didn’t dare ask. Without warning, she put the letter down hastily and turned to him. “I want to know who’s been interfering with my letters.”

“I agree, of course…”

“Who the fuck would want to tamper with them? Who has the motivation to do so? Obviously it’s someone angry at one or both of us. Probably me, considering my work history.”

“I can’t even think of anyone…”

“It’s fucking Faida, I bet. I killed Maro, I killed Kerah, and she’s realized she can’t get to me physically.”

“But how would she get to the letters?”

“Well I don’t know. A courier is sweet on her or owes her favors or is being blackmailed… I don’t know. I'll have it looked into.”

“But couldn’t it be someone mad at me?”

“Who would be mad at you? What have you done to anyone to make them even mildly cross with you? What, do you have gambling debts or something? When have you even mildly offended anyone, much less brought down their wrath upon you?”

“I suppose you’re right. As always.” Vorstag reached over and took her hand. “Never a dull moment with you.”

“And just imagine what Jenassa goes through.” Zenotha snorted. She reached for an apple but Vorstag caught her other hand.

“Take me with you next time. I’m sick of sitting around worrying about you.”

“So stop worrying about me. Easy.”

“Okay, smartass. You know what I mean. You always take her. Leave her at home with Argis and take me instead.”

“What, so something terrible could happen to you?” She shook her head.

“And something might not happen to you while I’m waiting for letters that are apparently getting intercepted?”

“If it happens to me while I’m gone and you’re home…” Zenotha sighed. “You… won’t have to see it.”

“Is THAT what this is about?” His voice raised higher than he meant it. “That’s a terrible reason.”

“Is it? That I don’t want you to see me killed in front of you? That I’d rather Jenassa….” Her face blanked. “Well that would be pretty terrible for her. But I don’t want to see you…”

“Stop.” He squeezed her hands. “We both knew what was possible from the first day Jenassa hired me so you could murder Vittoria in cold blood.”

“Okay, in fairness, she was actually kind of a terrible person. That doesn't count.”

“Ssshhhh stop talking for five minutes. Hell, maybe only two.” He rolled his eyes. “Just once. Maybe something you think is less dangerous. What’s that garbage Lydia always says?”

Zenotha shook her head and pressed her lips tighter together, and snorted laughing. He motioned for her to go on. “She says that she’s sworn to carry my burden.”

“Ah.” Vorstag pointed at the ring he’d given her. “And what do you think this means?”

“You are way hotter than Lydia.”

“You are impossible.”

“Oh alright, fine. I’ll take you. But if you die, I’m going to raise you just so I can tell you I told you so.”

“Little dark, but I’ll take it.” Grinning, he quickly stood. He grabbed her by the waist, picked her up, and sat her firmly on the table. “Well, it seems as though we have some time before Jordis gets back, sooooo…”

Precisely as Vorstag leaned over to kiss her, they heard the creak of the door. She reacted quickly and grabbed the blanket that was barely still wrapped around Vorstag and they both turned to face a very red-faced Jordis. Zenotha glanced up at him and snorted. Jordis rushed past them, unable to make eye contact. The couple fell into fits of laughter as they snuck back upstairs to spend the rest of the day lounging around.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Vorstag almost felt a little sorry for Faida as Zenotha marched intently into Dragon Bridge. She hadn’t bothered to put up her hair, and the way the wind whipped it around her honestly made her look even more intimidating than just the Dark Brotherhood armor. She stood silently, staring at the door to the Four Shields Tavern. After about ten minutes, Faida stepped outside. The woman looked sincerely confused.

“What’s this, then?” She looked between Zenotha and Vorstag.

“Kerah sends her regards. Her best ones, in fact.”

“Kerah? Have you seen her? I haven’t heard from her in months now.”

“Do not act like I’m stupid. I saw her in Rorikstead. Where she was happy to name you as the bitch that hired her before she tried to kill me and then I ripped out her throat.”

“....What?” Faida looked horrified.

“Probably should have waited to tell her about the throat business,” Vorstag whispered. She swatted his arm.

“She said that you sent her to kill me.” Zenotha surveyed the woman disapprovingly. “First, she tried to have me served poisoned wine. When that didn’t work, she chased me out of the village while I was, as far as she knew, unarmed. She pointed an arrow at my throat.”

“Well, I don’t know…” Faida trailed off as Zenotha closed the difference between them.

“Well I do. First you sent Kerah after me, and now you have someone interfering with my letters.”

“No! I mean…” Faida sighed. “I didn’t send Kerah. I swear. I talked to her about wishing for revenge but I didn’t even know….. Wait. Are you the one who killed Gaius?”

“He attacked me in the streets of Markarth. I didn’t even have a chance to draw a weapon to defend myself. If I didn’t have magical abilities, he would have killed me.” Zenotha only felt slightly bad about lying to her.

“There has to be some mistake….” Faida looked like she might faint. “But I swear I never told her or sent her to kill anyone.”

“I believe you, actually.” Zenotha stepped even closer and brushed a lock of hair out of Faida’s face. Faida flinched. “But my sympathy will run thin quickly if you don’t stop interfering with my letters. I know about your half-brother who uses his father’s family name. I also have a courier on my payroll… and I’m quite sure you recognize the armor I’m wearing, and what it represents. Hail, Sithis, my dear.”

“I… I.. Yes. I will. I swear. Please don’t hurt him. He’s only doing what I ask.”

“I believe that, too, actully. I believe we can resolve this maturely. I will gladly reward you for being reasonable, when I see you’ve held up your word.” She glanced back at Vorstag. “He’s a good man who doesn’t deserve to be dragged into our disagreement, and I would literally kill for him. Just so you know.”

“Of course...Of course. Yes.”

“And Ereld will be safe. You have my word as long as you keep yours.” Zenotha gave her what could only be described as half-smirk-half-sneer as she turned. Vorstag looked like he didn’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. As she walked up to and passed him, she kept her eyes locked on his. “We’re done here. Let’s go, darling.”

“I have no idea what just happened but you’re obviously the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He reached out and grabbed her hand. He pulled her close to him.

“Of course I am.” She winked. “Tell me, is my new friend still watching us?”

“She is indeed.”

“Oh let me be a terrible person for a minute.” She smiled wickedly before leaning up to kiss him, slowly and deliberately.

“I’m not sure how that makes you a terrible person, but you should just be downright evil and really get the point across.” He wove his fingers into her hair and pulled her head back. She rewarded him with a throaty laugh before he kissed her back, hard. “Hell I’ll make you public enemy number one..”

“I think she’s gotten the point by now.”

“I think we should stop in to visit any time we’re remotely in walking distance, even.”

“I’m starting to rethink agreeing to bringing you along.”

“No you’re not.”

“No. I’m really not.”

Chapter Text

Jenassa rubbed her temples and rolled her eyes subtly at Zenotha, who nodded back at her slightly. She’d finally caved and agreed to Elisif’s party. Fortunately, this one was much smaller than the last, and was only a handful of women that both she and Elisif agreed on, though getting Elisif to agree to Maven Black-Briar was more difficult than she had hoped. She had brought Anuriel with her, though, who had brought, of all things, a variety of teas that she had had shipped from Valenwood apparently just for this. Zenotha had requested hot cocoa as well, which seemed to baffle most of the other women present, but Zenotha was hunched over her mug grinning gleefully.

The women had brought gifts for her upcoming marriage, which was a custom that baffled Zenotha. She was, by most accounts, fabulously wealthy at this point, and really wanted for nothing. She didn’t understand why they had brought her things that she could easily pay for herself, but Jenassa assured her it was a primarily Nord custom that the other races had adopted over time. Elisif had apparently requested that the attendees not gift her anything personal or inappropriate, whatever that meant. Zenotha was happy with the cocoa and tea alone. That was, until the door opened and in walked Lisette, from the Winking Skeever, with Erdi in tow. Zenotha shot a subtly panicked glance at Jenassa, who nearly choked on her tea. Zenotha used it as her opportunity to move to the opposite side of the room, as far away from Erdi as possible.

“Why the fuck is the woman who slept with Vorstag ONCE here for a fucking bridal shower?” Jenassa sneered.

“Wait is that what this is called? That doesn’t make any sense. Why is it called a ‘shower’?”

“THAT is what you’re concerned about? Why is she here? Did she sleep with you, too?” Jenassa started tapping on her thigh nervously. “And I don’t know. Maybe because you get ‘showered’ with gifts?”

“We did not fuck that I recall.”

“Not that you… by the Eight you’re a pain in the ass, Zen.”

“Why are you so stressed out about this?” Zenotha raised an eyebrow. “If she does anything inappropriate, it’ll be directed towards me and I can just roast her where she stands. What’s the bounty, like a grand? I have ten times that in my luggage. And I’m sure she’s well aware that I have zero qualms about doing it.”

“You cannot roast someone at your bridal shower unless it’s with jokes.”

“Says who?” Zenotha was almost giddy. “It’s a gift to myself.”

“You are unbelievable, Zen.”

“I wouldn’t ACTUALLY do it. She’s Elisif’s favorite maid. I’d have to find her a new one, and probably front some of the wages… It’s really not enough satisfaction for the cost. The look on your face right now, though. That’s easily worth a thousand septims.”

Jenassa laughed and shook her head. “You’re too much sometimes. You stress me out.”

“And yet you’re still following me around.” Zenotha cracked a smile and then broke into a cackle of laughter.

“I’m a bit of a stray dog, I guess. Keep feeding me and I’ll keep following.” Jenassa grinned.

“Alright ladies, attention.” Elisif clapped her hands together in excitement. “It’s time for Zenotha to open her gifts!”

“Wait do they watch me do this?” Zenotha whispered to Jenassa. The other woman nodded. “This is so weird.”

“Just roll with it.” Jenassa whispered back.

Elisif motioned for Zenotha to come over to the table next to her that was laden with gifts and handed her a quite large one wrapped in pretty white paper. “Mine first, since I’m the host, of course.”

Zenotha smiled and glanced at the other women in the room. She untied the ribbon holding the paper on, and opened it to reveal three very high quality fur stoles- one jet black, one a pretty deep green, and one pure snow white. “Oh these are so beautiful, Elisif! These are so perfect for all of the travel we do.”

“I’m glad you like them!” Elisif beamed. ‘Ok, that one next. It’s from Anuriel.”

Anuriel stood and reached over to pick up her gift. It was a heavy-looking wicker basket with a giant bow on the lid. Zenotha heard a slight clinking sound as it was handed to her. She lifted the lid carefully. Inside was an elaborate tea set. It was all carved ivory, probably from mammoth tusks. Tiny flowers were painted along the rim- she recognized them as purple mountain flowers. The rims were also painted with a thin line of gold. The teapot was elaborately carved and painted with the same purple mountain flowers with a few red and blue added. “I’ve got a ton of tea coming in for you too, and some hot cocoa for you to take home. I figured it’s perfect for a cold night by a fire.”

“Indeed. Thank you!” Zenotha grinned. “I’ve recently become a big fan of hot cocoa, too.”

The gift giving went on- headache tonics and makeup from Arcadia, a gorgeous jewelry set from Maven, fur blankets from Irileth, embroidered towels and washbasin cloths from Faleen. Finally, two gifts with matching paper remained on the table. Jenassa giggled and brought them to her. “This one is from me and the other is from Taarie.”

Zenotha squinted in mock suspicion. She opened the one that was clearly a box first and gasped. It was a small, elaborate red hat. Three tall black feathers were on the side, with large fake flowers made out of silk and decorated with black pearls and gold embroidery. Speechless, she could only grin and reach for the other one. The paper was a similar white to the one Elisif had used to wrap her gift. It was tied perfectly with a gorgeous ribbon, one Zenotha recognized from one of her first dress commissions. Grinning, she untie the ribbon, putting it aside gently. She tore the paper off like a child. Inside was maybe the prettiest dress she’d ever seen in her life. It was blood red (perfect!). As she unfolded it, she and the majority of the party guests all gasped. Taarie had painstakingly embroidered the majority of the dress. The pattern of Vorstag’s facial tattoo had been done around the neckline and sleeve openings in the exact same shade of red as the dress, alternating with the handprint of the Dark Brotherhood. The lining of the sleeves was a pale gold, with moon phases and the symbols of various schools of magic embroidered in a bright metallic gold that glinted where it caught light. A matching jeweled gold necklace fell free from the remainder of the wrapping paper.

“Oh this is so beautiful. Nicer than anything I’ve ever designed.”

“I hope you decide to wear it when you finally tie the knot.” Taarie beamed.

“IF she ever does.” Jenassa rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “How long have you been engaged, Zen?”

“I haven’t been keeping track to be honest. But don’t worry, we have it arranged. Two weeks. You’re all invited, of course.” Zenotha looked around the room at all of the women present until her eyes fell on Erdi. She stared at the woman just slightly too long. She was slightly startled when suddenly Elisif hugged her.

“Two weeks.” Jenassa grinned.”With the man that used to watch you in….”

“Oh FUCK OFF Jen!” Zenotha collapsed in a fit of giggles, and the rest of them followed.

Chapter Text

The main hall of Mistveil Keep was bubbling with laughter and chattering. Laila Law-Giver and Anuriel for once did not sit at the head of the table- they’d given that spot to Zenotha and Vorstag. The wedding ceremony had gone off without a hitch, and they and the wedding’s guests had packed into the hall to celebrate. There was lots of mead flowing, and the feast was above and beyond the normal fare. Zenotha literally sparkled in the lower light of the room, light occasionally glinting off a jewel or the gold embroidery. Vorstag kept catching himself staring at her, dumbfounded that this was finally happening. She would randomly reach over and squeeze his hand- she was deep in a conversation between herself, Jenassa, Maven, and Nivenor. Argis elbowed him in the side.

“You’re staring at her again, mate.”

“She’s my wife now. I think I’m allowed to stare at her once or twice.” Vorstag raised an eyebrow and grinned. He made eye contact with Faendal, who gave him a thumbs up and an exaggerated wink. He leaned over close to Zenotha and whispered in her ear. “This is fun but also a little dreadful. How much longer do you need to stay here to make everyone happy?”

Zenotha turned to face him. “Not long. Maybe an hour? I’m pretty sure everyone here is basically waiting for the chance to cheer at you carrying me out of here on the way to Honeyside to fuck me sideways.”

Vorstag spit out his mead. Zenotha smiled gently and went back to her conversation, which had turned to discussion of Madesi’s latest jewelry designs, one of which being the necklace Jenassa had gotten to pair with the red wedding gown.

“I bet you’re glad you’re not in the Summerset Isles. I hear marriage for the Altmer is very different than it is for us.” Maven scooped some of the fresh salmon onto her plate and squeezed a bit of lemon onto it. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“You heard correctly. Marriage for us is mostly arranged. Everything about the marriage is done for the benefit of both families. For status, for keeping bloodlines pure or ideal. Magic is very important and someone not showing magical abilities may not get as good of a match as a magical person- even if the magical person is a much lower status. Some of us are even forbidden to marry. For example, I would not be permitted to marry because of my…. Current lifestyle, let’s say. Vampires are also not permitted to marry. I’ve heard stories of people committing suicide to avoid marrying one, or after their spouse has become one. It’s supposed to be the perfect system but really has devolved into a toxic, elitist mess. My family will have a fit when they find out I’m a werewolf, and maybe an even bigger one when they find out I’ve married a Nord mercenary.”

“Marrying a Nord is worse than being a werewolf?” Jenassa snorted. “Fucking Altmer. No offense, of course.”

“None taken. We can be awful. I can, in theory, hide being a werewolf. After all, I have to make the conscious decision
when to transform. There is absolutely no mistaking that I caught me the hottest Nord in all of Tamriel. Well, hottest male Nord, anyway.”

“I heard that!” Vorstag piped up. Zenotha only acknowledged him by another hand squeeze. He squeezed back, almost painfully hard. She whipped her head around, confused. He whispered again. “I”m going to go lay down. Everyone’s here for you, anyway, love.”

“Alright! Take Iona with you. Have her make you some tea or something. I won’t be long. Trust me, this is all exhausting.” Zenotha smiled. He stood and shook a few people’s hands, then walked out of the hall as unnoticed as possible. Her eyes followed him until the door of the keep was closed behind him. When she turned her attention back to her friends, Maven made a shoo-ing gesture. Jenassa and Nivenor nodded in agreement. “I can’t leave yet, it’s my party.”

“Darling, you’ll be fine. Most of these people are only still here because of you or the mead. If you leave, they’ll stay here anyway. Go now, while no one’s paying much attention. The three of us can be enough of a distraction.”

“Thank you,” Zenotha hissed. She slowly rose from her seat and walked around the side of the hall. A few guests gave her thumbs up or grinned, but the rest seemed plenty content to give all of their attention to the mead and food. She picked up the train of her dress and slipped out into a chilly night. She was grateful for her fur-lined shoes as she walked through the empty streets on the way to Honeyside. It was unusually quiet (for Riften, anyway), and she could hear the water in the canal below gently lapping against the buildings.

The front door to Honeyside was unlocked, and she slipped in quietly. She locked it behind her as quietly as she could. She heard snoring from the other room and laughed quietly. Vorstag had fallen asleep in the chair next to the bed. She slipped out of the gown and into her dressing robe. She squeezed his shoulder to wake him gently.

“You’re going to hurt your back sleeping like that. At least get in bed.”

“I’m too tired to move.”

“I’m tired too. Come on. If you come to bed I’ll play with your hair like you like.”

“Oh, yes ma’am!” He perked up, making her laugh. They both crawled into bed. He rested his head in her lap and she started running her fingers through his hair. Within minutes, he was asleep. About twenty minutes later, she fell asleep with her arms around him as her husband.

Finally.

Chapter Text

“The Blades? Who are they? I’ve never even heard of them.” Jenassa screwed up her face at Zenotha.

“So, from what I understand, I guess they used to be bodyguards for the Emperors? But now the Thalmor are trying to wipe them out after the Oblivion Crisis. Like they all had to go into hiding because the vast majority of them were massacred. But this Delphine character managed to escape and she’s been hiding in plain sight in Riverwood.” Zenotha sighed. “I get the distinct feeling she’s not a fan of the Greybeards.”

“But why? Aren’t all of them supposed to be supportive of whatever Dragonborn there is at the time?”

“You’d think. It seems like a giant pissing contest though. It’s kind of ridiculous and now I’m caught in the middle.”

“So what do the Blades want you to do? What CAN you do?”

“No big deal. Just break into the Thalmor Embassy and find out why the dragons are coming back. Delphine genuinely thinks the Thalmor are in charge. Well, at least at fault. I personally don’t think they’re related.”

“Well, on the bright side, you’re an altmer and can probably go unnoticed.” Jenassa sighed. “This is going to be a fucking mess. But at least we get to wear pretty dresses.”

“Just… me. I can’t take you with me.”

“Well then, don’t fuck this up.” Jenassa grinned.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha stepped down from the carriage slowly, trying to look like a dignified guest instead of an exhausted hooligan who couldn’t wait to be elbow deep in pastries. A young Nord man stepped down from the carriage behind her and waved.

“I see someone else likes to arrive fashionably late!” The man chuckled.

“Of course! It makes your entrance grander and more dramatic.” Zenotha smirked. “I don’t think I’ve been on time for a party in the last three years. Maybe even longer. I normally dress nicer but I don’t want to take away from our fabulous hostess. Have to balance it out, you know?”

She bowed her head slightly and proceeded up the steps leading to the doorway of the embassy. As she walked in, a woman that had to be Elenwen approached her. She bobbed in the slightest curtsey to her. Elenwen opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by her mole, Malborn.

“Your excellency, may I open the second case of Alto wine?” He barely made eye contact with Zenotha and kept his eyes focused on Elenwen.

“For the last time, yes!” Elenwen rolled her eyes in exasperation. She gestured for Malborn to return to his bar, and followed him. Relieved, she slipped into the main hall. She watched the pair’s interaction out of the corner or her eye. She caught a glimpse of a pretty chandelier and allowed herself to look around the room.

There were three chandeliers down the center of the hall, the center being almost twice the size of the other two. Delicate blue and green crystals dangled like icicles and reflected the candlelight from the whole room. They cast slight shadows on the blue velvet curtains draping the windows. She walked over to one and ran her fingers through the heavy gold fringe.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry for the interruption. May I get you something to drink?” Zenotha whirled around to see Malborn waving her over. She smiled and walked over as calmly as possible.

“Yes. Can I get some of the alto wine?”

“Of course.” He leaned in. “Your stuff is all set. Figure out a way to cause a distraction and I can slip you into the back room.”

“Noted.” She took the glass of wine he handed her and returned to the main hall. She had no idea what kind of distraction would even work well enough. She scanned the room nervously. Her gaze fell upon Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone and she grinned. She walked over to the woman. “It’s good to see you here, Jarl Idgrod.”

“Well looky here! Good to see you. What brings you to a boring old party like this?”

“Funny you should mention it.” Zenotha smirked. and winked. “I’m here to do some dirty work and could use a distraction. Any chance I can ask you to cause said destruction?”

“Oh honey you bet! An old woman can get away with anything.” The jarl winked at her, then set her gaze on the man who had walked in with Zenotha. “YOU. I see a cloud of darkness about you!”

Zenotha slowly backed away as the party guests began to gather around the old woman. She caught the gaze of Malborn, who jerked his head towards the back room. They slipped through a door that had been left cracked open, and he rushed her into a small room just off the kitchen. She dug a pouch of gold out and tossed it to the cook, who motioned feigned innocence.

“This is as far as I can take you. I have to get back to my post. Good luck.” Malborn was gone in an instant. Zenotha took a quick second to exhale and focus. Then she stripped out of her dress as quickly as she could and dug out the Thalmor robes that had been left in the chest. For the first time since she got to Skyrim, being an Altmer was going to greatly benefit her. Hopefully her magic would be enough to get through the rest of this. With a deep breath, she calmly walked into the hallway. The two thalmor guards there paid no attention to her. ‘Remind me to hug Jenassa for this idea later’, she thought.

When she walked out into the courtyard, it had just started to snow, and her boots crunched on the cold ground. She strode directly across the grounds, to the building where she knew Elenwen’s documents would be hidden. There was a lone wizard at the door of the Solar.

“She needs you inside. Go.” Zenotha motioned towards the main building. “Now.”

“What? But… Well, stay here. Watch the door. No one comes in.” He furrowed his brow and started off. When he was out of sight, she slipped through the door. She had a feeling all bets were off inside and readied ice spikes. She came around a corner just as a Thalmor agent and a random Nord were arguing. They looked up just as she spent a spike into each of their chests, then lit the entire room on fire. When the screams stopped, she popped around another corner and found a desk with a chest next to it. She threw a quick glance around the room before trying the latches. She was pleased to find it was unlocked. There was a stack of paperwork inside- she thumbed through it quickly and stuffed it into her pack. She heard shouting behind a nearby door and snuck over to investigate. She descended the stairs into what had clearly been turned into some sort of torture emporium. There was a man in a cell, sobbing.

“Hey, you. I’ll get you out of there if you do something for me,” she whispered loudly. “Where have the Thalmor been keeping their notes?”

“The chest. The chest by the desk. He just sits there while the guards torture me. He writes things.”

“This chest here?” She pointed at the chest in the corner. She easily picked the lock and retrieved the documents. She went to stand up and walk over to the cell, but stopped when she heard the door above open.

“We know you’re in here, spy. We found your accomplice!”

“Shit,” she whispered to herself. She put a finger to her lips to tell the man in the cell to be quiet and she crept over to and up the stairs.

“I swear I didn’t know anything about this. She said she was sick!” Malborn’s desperation could be felt.

“We figured you would be a coward.” The Thalmor had their attention set on the cell, so it was relatively easy for her to walk up behind them. She readied a small dagger she’d kept on her just in case. The first guard’s throat was slit before anyone knew she was there.

“Malborn, duck!” She pulled him out of the way as she pushed the other guard up against the wall. She grabbed him by the throat, digging in her fingernails as she stabbed him in the chest. She held him until he was dead, then tossed the body aside. “Come one, Malborn. How do we get out of here?”

“There’s a trap door!” The duo hurried down the steps. Zenotha rushed over to the desk next to the cell. There was a key resting on it that had to be the cell door key. She fumbled with it in the lock, nervous that they’d soon be getting some more company.

“Hey, what’s your name?” She swung open the cell door and motioned for the man to hurry out.

“Etienne.”

“Alright, Etienne. This trapdoor leads out?”

“Well, into a cave first, and then out to a road.”

The trio jumped through the door one by one, with Zenotha pulling the door close behind them. They’d officially infiltrated the Thalmor and gotten away with it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“That is so not how it happened,” Jenassa cackled. “There’s no way you swooped in there yourself and fooled the entire embassy into thinking you were a Thalmor. My idea was genius but it wasn’t THAT good.”

“Oh, Jen, give her a little bit of credit. It’s not like the Thalmor are particularly good with foresight.” Vorstag shot Zenotha a cheeky grin. “But neither are we Nord, sometimes.”

“Oohh nice save, darling.” Zenotha plopped into his lap. “And the disguise really only worked for the first bit. The second bit was courtesy of the shittly little dagger I carry around.”

“So what did you find out?” Jenassa grinned.

“Jack shit.” Zenotha furrowed her brow. “The Thalmor don’t know any more than we do. They’re investigating the Blades but that’s more because they just want to wipe all of them off of the map. We’re going to Riften tomorrow to find someone that I think is hiding from them in the Ratways.”

“That’s going to be a literal shit show.”

“Funny.”

Chapter Text

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jenassa slammed the door of Windstad Manor behind her. “Really? We’re snowed in? When was the last time that it snowed badly enough in any part of Skyrim for us to be stuck in our homes? We’re going on two days now.”

“You ask that as if I have any sort of idea of what the weather here is like.” Zenotha sighed dramatically. “Vorstag, darling, can you answer Jen before she breaks anything?”

“Funny,” Jenassa snapped. “I don’t like being stuck indoors. It’s snowing so badly I can’t even go out to the fishery. How are you and I supposed to get work?”

“Jen, we’ll be fine. We have plenty of gold stocked…”

“I don’t give a shit about the MONEY. I give a shit about my sanity. You all are lovely but I can’t be stuck inside these walls for much longer.”

“If I may say so…” Valdimar piped up, and Jenassa and Zenotha both glared him into silence. He backed up and showed himself out.

“I mean this isn’t so bad. I get some quality time with Zen,” Vorstag said as he descended the stairs. He waggled his eyebrows at her, succeeding in making her laugh. ‘Aren’t you excited to be forced to spend time with me?”

“What?” Zenotha looked at him quizzically. He shrugged. “Do you really think I’d be upset to spend time with you?”

“Oh no, of course not. I just know how people get when they're cooped up and frustrated and have to look at the same people day in and day out.” He wrapped an arm around behind her.

“Maybe. But I had this house built with multiple rooms and there are enough of them for us all to have our own space at any given time. Unless I want to be in the library, in which case all of you can fuck off anywhere else in the house.” She tapped Vorstag’s nose with her index finger and planted a quick kiss. “Momma needs her uninterrupted book time.”

“Fine, fine. What are we going to do in the meantime?” Jenassa frowned. “Argis was supposed to be here by now but the snow probably trapped him on the way.”

“Jenassa and Argis, sittin’ in a tree….” Zenotha duck as Jenassa chucked a roll at her head.

“In the words of someone I know, ‘can you fucking not?’” Jenassa smirked. Vorstag looked between the two women, obviously confused. “Oh Zen never told you?”

“Oh JEN never told you?” Zenotha crossed her arms. “Literally for months on end, any time Markarth was talked about or headed to or even when she thought about it… ‘Oh there’s a guy in Markarth that watches you, blah blah blah.”

Vorstag grinned. “Oh, really. So how often was this?”

“Only every third or fourth day.” Zenotha rolled her eyes. “It was kind of a thing for a few months. And THEN she had to drag you into the assassination and it just kinda went down from there.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Jenassa chuckled.

“You were pretty obnoxious about the whole thing, don’t lie.”

“Well it worked out pretty well for me, I think.” Vorstag pulled her in tight. “And I promise you will get all the uninterrupted book time you need.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Day eight of being snowed in rolled around and Jenassa was over it. Argis had made it to the house late on day two, which seemed to calm Jenassa down a little. The friends had been mostly good about all staying in different parts of the house but it was still difficult some days. Zenotha had taken up nearly permanent residence in the library and only emerged to refill her tea. Jenassa had gone into obsessive cleaning, even giving the others a scare when they caught a glimpse of her hanging from the chandelier to dust it and scrape off the candle wax. Argis put his energy into sharpening and polishing weapons, and smithing arrows for Zenotha. Vorstag, meanwhile, was working on his cooking. It got to the point where he wouldn't allow the others to cook, just so he could keep busy. He’d figured out how to make the pastries his wife was so enamored with around day six. Day eight, however, had everyone in the house stressed and irritable. Books were being left wherever Zenotha left them. Argis had left unfinished arrows all over the cellar to leave the space to Jenassa and her hours of archery practice. He moved to the rear wing of the house to read random books that had been dropped. He was currently reading The Lusty Argonian Maid and couldn’t believe how terrible it actually was- it was actually so terrible that he couldn’t put it down.

Vorstag took up knitting. It wasn’t traditional knitting, but Argis had shown him how to use a round wooden hoop with pegs sticking out of it. A small piece of scrap metal bent into a hook helped loop yarn around the pegs and over itself. He was a day into a scarf and probably the calmest in the house. He hadn’t seen Zenotha in a little over a day and was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep in the library. He himself had even fallen asleep in one of the entryway chairs a few times.

The snowstorm lasted another whole week. Vorstag had made hats and scarves for everyone in the house. Zenotha had read most of the books in the library. Jenassa had started making arrows with Argis and they were easily stocked for the next month. The day the snow stopped, Zenotha flung the door open and took a deep breath.

“Let’s go swimming! Race you losers to the water!” She broke into a run with the others not far behind. They stripped down to their underclothes and excitedly ran into the water. It was a bright, sunny day. They were more than happy to bask in it and finally relax.

Chapter Text

Zenotha reached out and grabbed Jenassa’s arm as they came skidding to a halt around a corner. Both women gasped when they saw the blood splatter all over a grave marker outside the Windhelm hall of the dead. Zenotha followed the trail with her eyes to the corpse of a young woman that she recognized as Susanna from Candlehearth Hall. She’d never been so glad to be in “civvies” instead of her Dark Brotherhood armor. She padded down the icy steps to get a closer look, when a guard stepped in front of them abruptly.

“Stay back,” he said. “We have to protect the scene for the investigation.”

“Investigation? What investigation? All I see is two guards standing around. No offense, of course.” She cleared her throat. “I’d be willing to help, if it would help.”

“And what the hell do you know about murder investigation?”

“Let’s just say…” she stepped closer. “...that I know a lot about murder.”

The guard stepped back instinctively and shook his head, frustrated. “Fine. But you run everything back through the guard before you act.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t dream of doing it any other way, darling. Come along, Jen.” She smiled deeply at the guard and yanked on Jenassa’s arm to follow her.

“That was only a little uncalled for, Zen.”

“Um, excuse me, but that was a hundred and ten percent called for.” Zenotha laughed deeply. “You didn’t hear the squeak he made when I told him how much I know about murder. I should have gone full ‘hail Sithis’ just for the fun of it..

The two women stopped on either side of the woman’s body. She had been nearly shredded, parts of her abdomen lying in folds where it was clear organs had been removed. Zenotha sighed. She removed her gloves slowly, finger by finger, and looked Jenassa square in the eye.

“Zen this is bad.”

“No shit, genius. I’ll be happy if I don’t full werewolf just from the smell, my gods. I can barely even think straight.” Zenotha squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay, new plan, you keep watch so I can taste some of the blood and track it.”

“You know, two years ago, that request would have been appalling. Go. Hurry up. You’re lucky I love you.” Jenassa turned away and watched the two guards and Helgird. “Alright, eat up.”

Zenotha ran her hand along the gravemarker Susanna’s body was strewn across. After a quick glance over her shoulder, she licked the blood off of her hand. She inhaled sharply as her instincts kicked in. She bit the side of her cheek to stay focused- the last thing anyone in the courtyard needed was Zenotha Aedius losing her mind and werewolf-ing them all to death. Jenassa grabbed her arm.

“Hey you. Look at me. What’d you get from it?”

“It’s….. Oh boy. Jen, it’s bad.”

“Well, we established that. I hope you picked up more than that from your little free sample.”

“Necromancy.”

“Wait, what?” Jenassa’s jaw dropped.

“I know, hear me out. How the fuck am I going to convince any of these people that I need to be allowed to help investigate because one of them is performing necromancy?”

“You gotta go straight to Ulfric.”

“WHAT.” Zenotha’s eyes widened. “You think a High Elf and a Dark Elf are gonna waltz into Jarl Ulfric’s keep and engage in polite chit chat with him TO CONVINCE HIM TO LET US INVESTIGATE NECROMANCY.”

“Well when you put it that way, it sounds like it’s doomed, but it’s you and you can remind him that you were both in that carriage and then about to get beheaded before it was all interrupted by a DRAGON.” Jenassa waved her fists in mock excitement. “How could he say no to you?”

“Vorstag finds a way to say no to me very easily and I’m sleeping with him, so I can see the possibility of a ‘no’ being a lot larger than you’re imagining.”

“Oh come on….”

“Wait.” Zenotha put her hand out and furrowed her brow. “Do you see that blood trail going up those steps?

“Oh yeah,” Jenassa said. She followed a few splatters and looked back at Zenotha. “It looks like it goes around the corner.”

Zenotha followed her up the steps and the two of them followed the trail up to the front door of Hjerim. She looked over at Jenassa with mild concern. “Keep watch. I’m breaking in.”

“It’s gonna take forever to pick that lock.”

“Correct. But someone thought to lift the key to this house when a certain Shatter-Shield was murdered.” Zenotha maintained eye contact as the key clicked in the lock. “Give me a little credit.”

The inside of the house was a mess. Blood trails and splatter all over the floor and walls led to a cabinet in the back of the house. There was a stack of leaflets covered in more blood talking about the ‘Butcher’ and someone named Viola Giordano..

“Isn’t Viola that cranky woman who tells literally everyone who will listen that there’s a serial killer?” Jenassa squinted to try to read one of the leaflets

“Yes, and it looks like she’s been right all along.” Zenotha reached under the stack of leaflets and pulled out a strange amulet with a skull pendant. “What the hell is this?”

“Fuck if I know.” Jenassa leaned over and craned her neck to try to see better in the dark room. Zenotha looked around at the walls for any more clues. It was then that she noticed light coming from a slim gap between a wardrobe on the wall next to them and the floor.

“Hey help me move this wardrobe.” Zenotha stood and grabbed the side. When she tried to slide it, it wouldn’t budge. Jenassa wasn’t able to move it either. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this, Jen?”

“At this point I’d be concerned if you didn't.”

“Alright well have a weapon ready in case I break through here and it’s a necromancy party in there, I’d like to not lose any limbs.” Zenotha opened the front of the wardrobe as Jenassa pulled her daggers out of her boots. She felt along the back and immediately hit a slightly flexible board- a false back. She looked at Jenassa before she slid the false back open. They were greeted with a horrific scene. Human skeletal pieces were on an altar with an enormous amount of blood strewn about. A worn journal was in the middle of all of it, containing a number of deranged entries confirming their necromancy theory. Zenotha sighed thoughtfully. “Maybe we should talk to the court wizard before we go all the way to the top…..”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So you’re just gonna take what Wuunferth said at face value?” Jenassa asked nervously.

“For now. I believe him, honestly. Let’s just keep an eye out tonight for any unusual activity. If nothing happens, we go back after him.” Zenotha was antsy as they approached the Stone Quarter. “You go that way, towards where we found Susanna. I’ll go around to the south. Hopefully we’ll meet up without….. Wait. Does Calixto look like he’s acting weird to you?”

“Where?” Jenassa scanned the front courtyard til she saw him. “He looks a little stalkery. We gotta go!”

The two women split up as planned. Zenotha scurried around to follow Calixto. After a few moments of no action, she started to relax. Then, she saw him draw a knife as he started towards Hermir Strong-Heart. The instant the knife was completely drawn and he hunched over, Zenotha leapt into the air with both hands on the hilt of the Blade of Woe. She drove the blade through to the front of his neck, blood spraying over her arms, face, and chest. Hermir screamed. Zenotha kicked Calixto off of the blade, knocking his corpse to the side. Jenassa came running up not even a full second later, flinching at the sight of the blood on Zenotha’s face and soaked into the front of her hair.

“Oh it was actually him!” Jenassa slumped against a wall. She eyed the blade of Zenotha’s dagger. “Ohhhhh how are you holding up?”

“Calixto was the killer!” the guard they had spoken to at the beginning of all of this came running up.

“Yeahhhhhhh too little too late,” Zenotha muttered under her breath. Jenassa snorted. “Yes, it was Calixto the whole time!”

Jenassa motioned for her to come over. When she did, Jenassa whispered to her. “Go ahead, while they’re all distracted.”

“You’re the best.” Zenotha quickly licked her lips, and savored licking the blade of the dagger. For a split second, Jenassa noticed Zenotha’s eyes shift slightly towards the bright gold they became when she transformed. She put a hand up in warning. “Too much?”

“You’re always too much.” Jenassa winked and grinned.

Chapter Text

Zenotha tapped her fingernails on the table, highly annoyed. Another bullshit meeting with men who outranked her shouting at each other. She glanced over at Jenassa, who was absentmindedly rifling through some unrelated letters Zenotha had brought with her. She briefly glanced up at Zenotha, winked, and looked back down. Zenotha wasn’t entirely fond of the Thieves Guild (She actually found them rather boring compared to the Dark Brotherhood). Brynjolf and Mercer were furiously quarreling about what to do about Karliah, who Zenotha had just found out had been plaguing the Guild since shortly before Zenotha had come to Skyrim. Bills of sale and conspiracies and all sorts of mess. It honestly sounded easy enough for the guild to handle themselves, but Mercer seemed hellbent on using her help to get rid of this woman. Most of the rest of the guild members present sat in near silence, watching the two men.

“It’s still not right to set out to just outright kill her. She’s a murderer, but needs to face justice to set an example. It will also make us look more legitimate- you always want us to stand apart from the Dark Brotherhood ethically, so why is this different?”

“If we try to bring her in like you say, she’ll just escape like she did after killing Gallus! We can’t take that chance.”

“Well, what does the new girl think?” Rune spoke up. He shot her a wink, eliciting a dramatic eye roll from Zenotha in return.

“Wait, why are we asking her?” Vipir wrinkled his nose. “No offense, of course, Zenotha.”

“None taken.” Zenotha inhaled deeply and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why you’re asking me. This isn’t my guild. I don’t even know everyone’s names yet!”

Brynjolf clenched his jaw but ignored her attempt at humor. Jenassa covered her mouth and stifled a snort. Zenotha kicked her foot underneath the table. Mercer didn’t react.

“Listen. It’s not a secret that you dabble in business with Astrid.” Delvin smiled wickedly. “How is your lovely mistress?”

“Wait, what?” Zenotha looked at him incredulously. “How do you not know? It’s been months! She double-crossed the Dark Brotherhood and died when the Penitus Ocularissss…. And I need to stop talking.” She wrinkled her face as Delvin gestured to her and turned to face Mercer and Brynjolf. “Well, shit.”

“Our new friend is exactly who you need to take with you. There’s no way Karliah can escape with you two hunting her down. If you can bring her alive, great. If you have to kill her, too bad.”

“It’s settled then. Zenotha, you’re coming with me in an hour to go retrieve Karliah. Make sure you have everything you need.”

“I have everything I need. Do you need me to get anything from the house?” Jenassa stood.

“I’m sorry, we need to keep the party to a minimum. Too many people together and Karliah will see us coming a mile away.” Mercer frowned.

“I actually think that taking her is a good idea,” Zenotha said. “Jenassa will be a valuable asset if Karliah somehow gets away from us.”

“He’s right, Zen.” Jenassa shook her head. “You and I both know your strength is stealth, and you're dealing with a seasoned member of the guild. All it will take is a gust of wind in the wrong direction and we’ll be made.”

“Alright, as long as you’re good with this.” Zenotha smiled. “Let’s go catch us a murderer.”

“It’ll be a piece of cake.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Oh look, one of those puzzle doors. How quaint. Normally, these doors require specific claw keys but there’s not a chance in hell Karliah hasn’t done something with it. Fortunately, there’s a way around that.” Mercer sneered in disgust and walked up to the door. He fiddled with the claw keyholes but put his body between her and the door. After a few moments, the door started to creak open.

“Okay you have GOT to teach me that.”

“Of course. When we get back to the guild I’ll teach you.” He grinned and gestured towards the opening door. “Shall we?”

Zenotha readied her bow and stepped into the room. Almost immediately, a sharp pain tore through the left side of her abdomen. She froze and looked down at the arrow jutting out from her armor. She instinctively brushed her fingertip on the wound, jarring it just enough for it to start bleeding freely. Her vision started swimming, but not in the same way as normal when she was injured.

‘Poison,’ she thought. ‘Fuck.’

“Mercer…. Hide… poisoned…” She fell to her knees. Propping herself up with one arm, she gestured wildly for him to move. She then collapsed completely. “Karliah…”

A vague outline of a woman walked into her view and stood before Mercer. “I knew you’d come here if I dropped enough crumbs.” The woman’s voice was strangely soothing. Zenotha chalked it up to the poison she could feel starting to really pump hard through her veins. She couldn’t feel her fingertips.

“Karliah.” Mercer laughed, but differently than she’d ever heard. She suddenly realized what was going on.

“Fuck you, Mercer…”

Mercer turned to look at her and sneered. “This is all working out better than I could have thought. Thank you for taking that arrow instead of me. Another murder I get to pin on Karliah. I’ll even leave your corpse next to where I threw his.”

“Mercer, you’re a fool.” Karliah’s voice was now coming from a shapeless blob. “How long do you think you can get away with covering up Gallus’s murder? No matter. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence.”

Mercer lunged towards her, and suddenly her form was gone. He roared in frustration and whirled around to face Zenotha. She shallowed her breathing and made herself wheeze, hoping he would leave her alone thinking he was leaving her to die. He had a different idea, unfortunately.

“Another murder I can claim is under Karliah’s belt. Don’t worry, I’ll tell them all how bravely you fought to protect me from her. I’ll give Brynjolf your regards.” He raised his sword and plunged it into her right side. Blinding pain shot through her entire body and she passed out as he stepped over her to leave.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha started awake. She desperately flailed to try to get her arms under her so she could sit up. Someone smacked her hand. She whipped her head to the side to see Jenassa squatting next to Karliah beside her. She felt her eyes rapidly dilate like they did before beast mode. Jenassa grabbed her hand.

“Don’t!” Jenassa hissed. “It’s not what you think. She's the one who kept you alive.”

“I’m sorry to have had to do this this way,” Karliah said. Zenotha relaxed, but then whipped her head to look at Jenassa.

“Wait how are you here? How long have I been out?” She was annoyed. “And SHE still shot me.”

“I followed you and saw Mercer leave alone from my hiding spot.”

“Great. I can’t even tell when I’m being followed by someone I know. Next thing I know, I’m going to be actually murdered in my bed.”

“Oh stop being so dramatic.”

“I will do no such thing.” Zenotha then turned her attention to Karliah. “You have five minutes to explain to me what’s going on or I will legitimately go into beast mode.”

“Right.” Karliah raised an eyebrow. “Mercer is actually the one who murdered Gallus, like you heard. Threw him down into the room where you were wounded. You may have even seen his remains in there. Afterwards, he made it back to the guild first, and I was forced to flee to save myself. I haven’t stopped being ashamed all these years.”

“Well, he didn’t kill me, so you have a witness to his admission.” Zenotha groaned. “What did you put on that arrow, Karliah?”

“A minor poison. I figured Mercer would bring someone with him to use as a shield, so I didn’t want to make it deadly. Instead, it slowed your heart and gradually put you to sleep. I assumed he would injure whoever he brought along.”

“Okay, can we get me out of the snow?” Zenotha slowly sat up. Jenassa tried to stop her, but Zen pushed her. Jenassa yelped. “Come on, we’re not far from Winterhold. Let’s relocate there and get out of the open. And I doubt anyone there will recognize you.”

The two other women helped her get to her feet. She winced when a sharp pain shot up the side where Mercer had stabbed her. Jenassa noticed and scowled.

The three women sludged through the snow to Winterhold. Zenotha did well, only having to stop a few times because of pain in her side.

“Vorstag is going to kill me for letting you go off with Mercer without me.”

“No he’s not, because we’re not going to tell him.” Zenotha groaned. “He’ll never let me leave the house again and he would DEFINITELY kill you. And hang your corpse in front of one of my houses.”

“You can’t not tell your husband that you got stabbed.”

“And shot. Don’t forget shot.” Zenotha glared at Karliah.

“You know what I meant.”

“Maybe we can tell him a toned-down version. Like just the arrow business.” The women turned onto the road leading into Winterhold. Zenotha sighed. “No, you’re right. He needs to know. And would somehow find out anyway. I swear his network is almost as big as mine.”

“Hopefully Nelacar can help get you in better shape so we can get you to one of the houses.” Jenassa said. “Where is Vorstag right now?”

“He should be in Proudspire Manor by now. If not, he’s still at Vlindrel Hall.”

“So….,” Jenassa grinned wickedly. “There’s a man in Markarth…”

“BITCH I will end you!” Zenotha cackled and swatted at her. Karliah stepped back with her hands up in concern about the exchange. Jenassa giggled and waved her down.

“So when I first started following Zenotha, I noticed that there was this man in Markarth who couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, so I thought I would bring it up one day…”

“ONE day my ass.”

“Shh, let me tell the story.” They entered Winterhold and turned towards The Frozen Hearth Inn. “And of course, she overreacted like she does, so I started bringing it up every single time Markarth came up in conversation and it got funnier EVERY TIME. No big deal, but they’re married now.”

“You make it sound much creepier than it wound up being, and poor Karliah looks like she can’t wait to get away from us.”

“No, you’re alright. I’ve got a lot going through my head. It’s an odd feeling to know I actually have someone on my side of all of this for once.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.” Zenotha looked almost sad. “The Da- another group that I belong to had something like this. The leader of the group basically bargained me and set me up to die in exchange for some sort of protection. Do you think the guild’s run of bad luck is because of all of this? If you believe in that sort of thing.”

The women shuffled into the inn. Karliah sighed loudly.

“I can’t help but consider it. What else has been done that it could be?” She looked wistful. “There were three Nightengales, but one turned out to be a snake.”

“Wait.” Zenotha stopped short. “The door at Snow Veil Sanctum had the rings set to that- two birds and a snake. Mercer knew it was you, that’s why he was so irritated about it. Like really irritated.”

“Yes. I knew he would bring someone with him to possibly set up. He knew I was in that room before the door even opened. Here, this room, it looks like.” Karliah pointed to a room with a mage in it, sitting in a corner and reading.”

“Nelacar!” Zenotha ducked into the room with Jenassa practically attached to her. The mage looked up and smiled. “Hi. I got stabbed and I need you to take a look at this wound and see if you can work on it a little. My friend here nursed it almost to 100% but I’m still getting some pains that my own healing spells don’t seem to be doing quite enough for.”

“It’s always something with you, isn’t it? Come here and let me look at it.” Zenotha crossed the room and started stripping out of her armor. Karliah stood watch at the door so Jenassa could help. When Nelacar saw the wound, he inhaled sharply. “Oh this is a mess.”

“Is it bad?” Zenotha cringed. “Be honest,”

“It’s bad. I can definitely heal it, but I’m not sure how much I can do for the scar that will linger. I can make a salve and see if that helps.”

Zenotha looked down at the wound. She hadn’t actually stopped to do so, as Karliah had helped her sort of hit the ground running.

It was hideous.

There was no blood. The skin looked intact but heavily bruised with deep green edging around the bruising. She looked over at the arrow wound, which looked almost completely healed. She turned her attention back to the stab wound. She lifted a shaking hand to it and gently pressed on the bruising.

“Stop that.” Nalacar smacked her hand away and replaced her hand with his. There was a familiar glow, and Nelacar closed his eyes in concentration.

‘Vorstag is bound to notice this,’ she thought. She sighed and tried to relax. The bruising started to slowly get smaller and lighten. Another sharp pain shot up her side and she couldn’t help but whine a little. Nelacar looked up at her sympathetically.

“I can take it slower. Maybe it will hurt less.”

“No, you know I don’t have that kind of patience. Just do what you need to.” She winced and bit her lip.

“Vorstag is going to kill me,” Jenassa said. She wrung her hands, seemingly actually upset.

“Oh you’ll be fine. Just remind him of that time in Rorikstead where his little friend tried to kill me.” Zenotha hissed at Nelacar’s progress.

“Oh I couldn’t…!” Jenassa’s jaw dropped. “I’m pretty sure he’s still really messed up about all of that…..”

“I’m kidding! I wouldn’t.” She smiled. “Though I AM legally required to pester him at least three times a year. DAMMIT, Nelacar! Shit! No, keep going, I’m sorry.”

“Do you want me to gag her?” Jenassa raised an eyebrow and grinned at the mage.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Zenotha winked at her, deliberately awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

“It’s fine, I’m done. As much as I can do, anyway. Wait a moment and I’ll see if I have any salve left for you.” Nelacar stood. “I’m not going to lie. It’s going to scar, and nothing I do is going to fix that completely.”

“Yep. Definitely going to kill me.”

“Oh stop. He’s a Nord, he might like it. You know how they are with their battle obsessions.”

“You married a NORD?” Nelacar laughed as he rifled through a small cabinet. “Oh, here it is. Okay. you’re going to need to apply this to the wound twice a day. I need you to wear armor as infrequently as possible. It’s too rigid and will make the scar harden. The outside is mostly healed but I admittedly don’t know exactly where you are internally. Get plenty of rest. Do you hear and understand me?”

“Yes, plenty of rest.”

“And…?”

“No armor.”

“No running off into some crypt on some foolhardy adventures.” Nelacar rubbed his temples. “And no running out and finding some loophole to drag her through, Jenassa.”

“I promise. Are we good to go? I’d like to try to get back to the house before dark. We can take a carriage and we’ll hide her in a blanket or something.”

“Fine.” Nelacar waved them out of his room. Zenotha almost collided with Karliah because she had literally forgotten the woman was even there. The three women were then gone as quickly as they had entered. He shook his head in amusement, and made a mental note to send a courier to check on her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha was more than ready to emerge from her hiding spot on the floor of the carriage. There had been plenty of blankets to bundle in, but she wasn't sure that it had been a better idea than sitting on a seat along with her companions. She popped her lower back and started walking up the road to Solitude.

“Why do the stables have to be so far from the gates?” Zenotha hissed as she misstepped on a cobblestone. She was grateful Jenassa had convinced her to wear a loose tunic and leggings instead of any of her armor. Jenassa took up one side and Karliah took the other, making sure Zenotha stayed upright and stable. The walk up to and through the gate was laborious but successful. Zenotha only stumbled once, when the sharp pain happened again, but the trio managed to make it to the door of Proudspire Manor without major incident. Once they were inside, Zenotha shrugged them off. “Stop it, you two. If you hover around me too much, you’re going to make him worry.”

“Make me worry about what?” Vorstag descended the stars excitedly but his smile quickly fell when he reached the ground floor. He raised an eyebrow and quickly glanced over her. “Wait, what are you wearing? And who’s this?”

Jenassa exhaled slowly and backed right back out the door. Karliah looked like a trapped deer. Zenotha opened and closed her mouth a number of times, no idea where to start. Karliah piped up.

“She went on an errand with the leader of the Thieves Guild in Riften. They were on the hunt for the person accused of killing the previous Guild leader. She was recruited because it’s known that she has… a particular skill set, if you will.” Karliah’s voice had just the slightest shake to it. Vorsag didn’t seem to notice, but he was looking more and more concerned with every word. Karliah looked away from him and over at Zenotha’s frozen face. “Mercer insisted that they travel in as small of a group as possible, just him and Zenotha, as to not alarm their target. Jenassa agreed to this arrangement because they planned for her to follow them at a distance just in case she was needed. It’s a good thing that she did, because at the location where the alleged murder was supposd to be hiding, Mercer betrayed her and….. stabbed her with his sword. She was seriously injured…”

Vorstag closed the distance between him and Zenotha. He raised his arms to wrap them around her but she raised her hands to stop him. She glanced back at Karliah and winked. “Can you check on Jenassa? I know she’s still shaken.”

As Karliah dipped out, Zenotha looked up into Vorstag’s face. Slightly shaking again, she hesitantly lifted the side of her tunic to reveal the wound. He kept his composure, surprisingly. He reached out and touched where the scar was forming.

“Please don’t be upset with Jenassa. That’s all she could fret about on the way here.”

“I’m not upset with Jenassa. I want to do terrible things to this Mercer fellow though…. I want him to hurt. Did you kill him?”

“No. He caught me by surprise and ran off after he stabbed me. Karliah’s the only reason I’m alive.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say it like that.’ He put his other hand on her cheek. “What happened with the alleged murderer?”

“About that…” Zenotha grimaced. “It was Karliah.”

“......What?” Vorstag asked, growing scarily quiet.

“No, no, she’s innocent. I saw and heard him admit he killed Gallus because he thought I was seriously wounded…” Zenotha’s eyes widened.

“And why did he think you were seriously wounded?”

“So… Karliah knew that I’ve been on her tail and that he would bring me to that place because that’s where he killed the former guild leader and dumped the body. She had this poison ready…”

“Poison?!”

“Darling, shush. Let me tell the story.” She turned her face to kiss his palm. “So she had this poison and she shot me with an arrow covered in it…. No! Stop. Don’t react until I’m done, please. This poison slowed my heart rate and my pulse and it slowed the bleeding after he stabbed me. From where she was camped out, Jenassa saw Mercer leave alone and figured out what had actually happened so she and Karliah got me stabilized, then we went to go see Nelacar in Winterhold.”

“You expect me to hear all of this, see you wounded, and not react?”

“No, you can react now that I’m done telling the story.”

“You didn’t know Jenassa was following you, did you? You went off with Mercer alone… Just like….”

“Do not. Do this. Please.” Zenotha grabbed both of his hands and pulled them away from her. “I know what you’re about to make this about and that is not the same thing and you CANNOT keep going back to that.”

“Zen I almost got you killed…”

“You did not. You had no hand in her plot. You had literally nothing to do with it and I need you to stop blaming yourself for that. I’ve been almost dying repeatedly since I got to this place and I don’t recall the knife or bow or sword or whatever ever being in your hand so you…” She pulled him closer to her. “...are completely and totally innocent of all charges.”

Vorstag stared down into her eyes. She raised an eyebrow and smirked. He grinned.

“Alright, I’ll stop it if you keep the outfit.”

“Just like that. The mighty Nord is weakened by a tunic and leggings.”

“Leather leggings.” He leaned down and kissed her somewhat aggressively. “Please?”

“Well Nelacar did tell me to stay out of armor for a while.”

“I DEFINITELY think we can manage to keep you out of armor. I’ve gotten decently good at that.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and she wrinkled her nose up at him.

“And I’m supposed to get lots of rest.”

“I will make time for you to rest, I promise.”

“And you have to be nice to Karliah and Jenassa because they don’t know that I told you the truth about everything.”

“Well……” He trailed off.

“Keep the outfit?”

“Keep the outfit.”

Chapter Text

Vorstag awoke to a familiar sound of clinking armor buckled. He rolled over to find his wife suiting up. “Zen, you better not be doing what I think you’re about to do.”

“Oh I’m sure I am, love.” She walked over to their mirror to straighten everything. Vorstag sighed loudly.

“It’s only been a week since the episode with Mercer. You’re not healed enough to be going off on any dangerous quests.”

“Ah but that’s the thing. This is a bounty that Sybille sent me this morning.” She turned to face him. “A very well-paying bounty.”

“Is it paying well enough that you’ll stay home for the next month?”

“Technically I could do that now but buying points with Sybille puts us in better with Jarl Elisif.” She frowned. “And rumors about the Emperor’s assassination have begun to get kicked up again. Having Elisif’s support could help put those to rest.”

“I don’t have to like it.”

“Very true. But it’s going to happen. And when I get back I’ll back sure to quickly get out of the armor, okay?” She winked at him. He rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at her. She pretended to be offended.

“Oh it is on when I get back.”

“That’s the plan.” Vorstag knocked aside the pillow when she threw it back. She shook her head and left the room.

“Jenassa! Are you ready?” She walked into the main foyer of the house. Jenassa was holding a letter and looked shocked. “Oh, that doesn’t look good.”

“It’s from Argis.”

“That could be a number of different things. What is it?” Zenotha motioned for her to follow her. “Also did you read the letter from Sybille? Do you know where we’re going?”

“What? Oh, yes.” Jenassa was silent all the way to the stables. Zenotha turned to stop in front of her.

“Spit it out. We’re not going anywhere until I know what’s wrong.” Zenotha crossed her arms.

“Argis… wants to get married….” Jenassa sighed.

“Well, you don’t look very happy about that, so I guess that’s your answer.” Zenotha turned and continued towards the stables.

“You know, for someone who waffled about getting married for so long, you’re awfully abrupt about this.” Jenassa retorted as Zenotha climbed into the carriage. She followed her.

“I seem to remember you being very abrupt about me getting married.” Zenotha shrugged. “I assumed it was just how you felt about the situation in general. Also, awfully dull to do it via a letter.”

“He knows about your run in with Mercer and that you won’t be to Markarth for a while.”

“It was good of you to let him know.”

“Zen, I just…”

“I’m giving you a hard time. Actually, when we get back, can you send word to the other housecarls?”

“Of course.”

“So are you going to?” Zenotha briefly lost her balance when the carriage started. She righted herself and leaned back against the wall of the cabin.

“What? I just told you…”

“No, no, no. I mean are you going to marry him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well let me know.” Zenotha shrugged. “So Sybille is sending us after a problematic Breton necromancer. She’s fled to Morthal.”

“Oh so we’ll be at Windstad.”

“Yeah. I’m not thrilled but it has been a while since we’re there. Valdimar I’m sure has been bored. It’s always exciting when we’re in town.” Zenotha smiled broadly.

“How are things with Vorstag? You never really say?”

“He’s….” Zenotha sighed. “He’s a dream. There’s a split second of happiness when I wake up somewhere away from him, and then when I see the empty bed, I just sink like I’m trying to swim in heavy armor. When I do get to wake up next to him, I never want to leave. Especially when it’s cold. I toss and turn in my sleep a lot and he always just melts into whatever shape I’m in.”

“You slept with him before you married him, though.”

“Not as frequently, and it wasn’t the same. It was usually just after sex before, to be honest.”

“So the great Dragonborn has been domesticated.”

“Oh, stop. I’m on my way to assassinate someone with you right now, aren’t I?” She chuckled. “I think at this point he likes it when I go away because I almost immediately jump his bones when I get back.”

“I did not need to know that.”

“Sorry. I just am throwing it out there for consideration. Plus I’ve heard Argis talk about you and he is absolutely crazy about you.”

“Oh you should hear some of the things Vorstag has said about you.”

“Oh no, do I even want to know?”

“After you killed the emperor, you went to Ghorza to get your armor and bow looked at. He was frantic he couldn’t find you anywhere so he headed for Ghorza’s. I caught him watching you and asked if he would say hello or just creepily gawk at you. He said, to paraphrase ‘not seeing her for so long was like not seeing the sun’ and something to the extent of how your dress made you look like the sun again.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Could I make up something that cheesy?”

“No, but you gave me an idea for my next dress.”

“It occurs to me that I should have told you this before the wedding so that you could have gotten an appropriate dress made.”

“Wait that wasn’t long before he proposed…”

“It was right before the nonsense with the fake wedding to Thrynn.”

“Ouch. That must have been awkward.”

“It worked out. Apparently Argis wanted Vorstag to crash the wedding but Vorstag wouldn’t do it. He described it as predatory.”

“I’m definitely glad he didn’t do that, but it would have been a very dramatic way to get the job done.”

The women continued to chit chat for the remainder of the carriage ride. Fortunately, Windstad wasn’t far, and they were there in less than an hour. Valdimar was waiting for them, and helped them out of the carriage.

“And what brings you two here so suddenly?” He smiled.

“We got a job. Straight from the Blue Palace.”

“That should be interesting.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha readied her bow as they crept into the overgrown cave. Jenassa had chosen swords for this trip, of course.

“What do we know about this Amarie Valya, anyway?”

“I know she’s a Breton and that Sybille is paying us a lot of gold to kill her.” Zenotha whispered. And she’s a necromancer.”

“Fun,” Jenassa replied. The two women continued further on into the cave. After about twenty minutes without seeing anyone, they finally came upon the central room. A woman was seated in a chair next to a table piled high with bodies. Zenotha and Jenassa glanced at each other and then back at her. The woman turned to face where they were crouched. They could tell she couldn’t see them, but it appeared she was aware of their presence.

“How do you wanna play this?” Zenotha whispered.

“I knew Sybille would send someone for me eventually.” Amarie’s voice boomed surprisingly loudly. She stood, pushing her chair back. “So who do I have to get rid of this time?”

“Wait, did Sybille mention sending other people after this bitch?” Jenassa hissed. Zenotha shook her head.

“I bet I know…..” Amarie’s hands erupted in sparks. Zenotha bolted from the shadows and slid to stand in front of her.

“Happy to see me?” She responded with flames. Amarie sneered.

“And who are you? She only sent one little girl to deal with me?”

“Technically two,” Jenassa said as she stepped out into the light.

“TWO little girls. More for my experiments.” Amarie gestured to the table of bodies. “I’m fresh out of specimens.”

“You’re a very confident woman, aren’t you?” Jenassa raised an eyebrow. An evil smile flashed across Amarie’s face before she exploded with lightning. Jenassa managed to leap away, while Zenotha seemingly brushed it aside. Amarie’s eyes turned bright red, and opened her mouth just enough for a set of sharp teeth to show.

“Tell me, darlings. Did dear Sybille tell you who I am? Or did she just dangle gold in front of you like mindless animals with a cut of meat?”

“Well, you're apparently also a vampire. That would have been useful knowledge. No matter, though.” Zenotha sneered.

“Oh, but would you humor me before we have to get to this nasty business? I do love the story.” Amarie clapped her hands in excitement. Zenotha rolled her eyes and glanced over to where Jenassa was half propped up against a rock. Jenassa shrugged. Zenotha looked back at Amarie.

“This wouldn’t be the first time a target got some last words so why not.”

“Ah, yes. Your reputation precedes you, Dragonborn.” The vampire closed her eyes. “Tell me, why do you think my dear cousin wants me dead? Who am I a threat to? Who do you think fed your name to dear Faida?”

Zenotha tensed. Amarie laughed. Jenassa stood all the way up. Amarie pulled a small dagger out of her belt.

“So. How do you want to do this? Your little pet here is definitely itching for some action.”

“We do this my way.” Zenotha seamlessly raised her bow and shot an arrow directly through Amarie’s throat, who stumbled back, gurling, but managed to get a powerful bolt of lightning to Zenotha’s left shoulder. Zenotha roared with anger. Before Jenassa or Amarie knew what was happening, her body started shifting and contorting into her beast form. Once her transformation was complete, she lunged forward, slashing her claws in violent criss-crosses, pulling skin and muscle off of bone. Jenassa recognized the danger and ducked completely behind the rock. She had seen this before and had no desire to watch the shower of body matter being used to paint the walls of the cave at this moment. Zenotha roared again- Amarie was still alive, deliberately. Zenotha had managed to work around major organs. A few moments passed, and Jenassa poked her head out. Zenotha had shifted back to her elf form, but her eyes were still their usual gold and her teeth hadn’t returned to normal yet. She began to pace in front of Amarie like a caged animal. Amarie managed to spit blood in front of her in disgust. Zenith leaned in close to her. “Unfortunately for you, my love, is you admit to bringing someone I deeply, deeply care about into this. For that, I’m enjoying every last moment of this. Tell me, who are you a threat to if I tear out your throat right now? Or open up your belly and let your intestines free?”

“Fuck….. You….” Amarie spit blood on her face, close to her mouth. Zenotha smiled and licked it off without breaking eye contact. She took the small dagger, which Amarie had dropped, and slashed her abdomen open. She stepped back as Amarie’s internal organs poured out of her body. Jenassa walked over and the two women stood over her and watched until the life left her body. Zenotha leaned down and pulled a ring off of her finger as proof to bring back to Sybille.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Vorstag started awake, the sun was almost gone outside. He’d fallen asleep at the dining room table while reading. He plucked the book off of his chest and tossed it aside. He pushed himself out of his chair as Jordis came in.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” she said. “Let me put some logs on the fire. Did you eat?”

“I had a small lunch.”

Noise at the front door caught their attention. Zenotha and Jenassa exploded into the room, talking loudly. Vorstag went over to look down to where they were standing.

“I assume it went well?”

“Oh it went very well.” Zenotha glanced sideways at Jenassa, who snorted. They erupted into a fit of giggles. Vorstag went down the stairs to greet them. He wrapped his arms around Zenotha and kissed her on the nose. “What do you think, Jenassa? You gonna agree to married life?”

“What?” Vorstag was puzzled.

“Argis wants to marry her,’ Zenotha said. “She hasn’t decided yet.”

“Does that mean we get more time to ourselves?” He swooped down and picked her completely up. She cackled as Jenassa groaned. As Vorstag carried her up stairs, Jenassa looked over at Jordis, who nodded. The two women quickly exited the house. And Jenassa realized her answer would be yes.

Chapter Text

Zenotha paced the main hall of Hendraheim like a caged animal. She was anxious, and she wanted blood for no real reason. The cravings had been happening more frequently in the last few weeks and trying to ignore them wasn’t working. She glanced over at Jenassa, who was reading in a corner with some tea and completely ignoring her. Zenotha scowled and stared at the front door. She mostly blamed this on her interaction with Amarie Valya- she’d let herself get completely out of control and did so without being really in any significant danger. Jenassa’d been humoring her, of course, but she’d really come up with a brilliant solution for Zenotha- find a werewolf friend and go hunt.

It sounded terrible out of context, really. Find a friend who also suffered from the same affliction, give into that affliction, and go roam the countryside for people to kill and feed on. Sybille at least only (maybe mostly) fed on convicted criminals. Jenassa’s idea would have her literally stalking prey. Also, how was she supposed to figure out who was a werewolf and who wasn’t? It's not like people posted on town bulletin boards.

It made Jenassa giddy when it was she that got to fall back on a network of spies. Zenotha had honestly never thought of Jenassa as having such a network. It’s not like she’d really offered their services before. So, when a knock came on the door she’d been staring at, she looked back at Jenassa, who practically sprung up from her chair. “Let me get it, Zen.”

When Jenassa opened the door, Zenotha was surprised to see a Dunmer man on the other side wearing black leather armor with matching black furs. Deep auburn hair that she guessed was just past shoulders was pulled back and slicked down with something that reflected the light. He was actually rather good looking, and Zenotha forced herself to blink. Couldn’t be caught staring before she even found out his name. She saw a slight smirk briefly cross Jenassa’s face.

“Zenotha Aedius, this is my cousin- Soram Dothrano.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Zenotha grinned and bobbed her head in greeting. Soram half-bowed in return. He stepped into the room and Jenassa motioned Zenotha to follow her to the corner where she’d been sitting.

“You have a cousin who is a werewolf and you never thought to mention this to me?” Zenotha hissed. Jenassa was unphased.

“It was a recent transition, thank you.”

“Do you realize how many jobs could have been easier having another werewolf on hand? Vorstag should never have seen me transform like in Rorikstead.”

“Okay, like I said, recent transition.” She pursed her lips. “After all that happened. Right around the King Olaf thing, honestly. And the main reason I haven’t brought him up until now is Vorstag, so don’t try me with that.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

“Nothing against your true love there but can you imagine the level of insecurity if he knew you were teaming up with a good-looking werewolf?”

“Oh and it won’t happen now?”

“I mean, you’re married, so he can at least rest marginally easier with that.” Jenassa tilted her head.

“Fine.” Zenassa rubbed her brow anxiously. "Do I even want to know how he turned?”

“Oh his foolish ass did it for a girl.”

“Oh for fucks sake.”

“I know, right? Anyway. He’s had a few incidents and not really known how to handle them so I was kind of hoping that you’d be willing to take him hunting with you and show him the ropes? He’s gonna get himself caught and or killed at the rate he’s going.”

Zenotha looked over at Soram who was blatantly staring at them. “He’s not big on subtlety is he?”

“And you are judging him?” Jenassa’s eyes widened.

“Do I stare like that?”

“What?” Jenassa turned. “Oh, geez, no.”

She turned back around quickly. Zenotha snickered. “Listen, Jen. I’m a little conflicted about all of this. But I’ll take him to a small Forsworn camp that’s sprung up nearby so that if this doesn’t go great, it shouldn’t end up with either of us in jail or on a spike.”

“I appreciate it.” For a moment, Jenassa looked almost scared. It quickly went away and the two women walked back towards where Soram was standing. He looked between the two of them.

“Soram, Jenassa tells me you’re recently of the beast blood, and asks me to take you with me on a hunt of sorts. I’m more than happy to do this but I need you to promise me that you will listen to what I say and do what I tell you to do, assuming you are able. Is this something you can promise us?”

“Of course,” he responded. His voice was definitely as husky as she would expect from a werewolf- it made her think of Arnbjorn, and she was sadder than she thought she should be. She shook it off and forced a smile.

“Tonight, then. After sunset.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Soram ducked behind a giant boulder and watched Zenotha. Instead of the gold that her eyes shifted to, his went pitch black. She could hear him trying to use his breathing to stay calm. She held up a hand with her palm facing him. He nodded, and she shifted her glance back to the camp they’d approached.

They’d been lucky, and stumbled across a Silver Hand camp before getting to the Forsworn. She was slightly relieved- she wasn’t sure that she could teach him restraint so quickly, and it’s not like either of them had any love for a group that wanted nothing more than to kill them. She slashed through the skirt of her dress and one of the sleeves to mimic attack damage. She grinned at him wickedly and put a finger to her lips. He grinned back and nodded, and she noticed that his teeth had turned into the sharp beast fangs. She’d learned to keep better control of hers, so she calmly strode towards the camp. Two of the men stood quickly and drew swords.

“Who are you?” The older-looking one asked suspiciously.

“I’m so sorry to bother you." She started crying. "My family was attacked by bandits and my father and brother managed to hold them off long enough for me to get away. I’m unfamiliar with these parts but have heard rumors of terrible things, like vampires and werewolves.”

“Aye, you heard right.” Both men sheathed their swords, though the younger man and a few of the others still looked suspicious. “What is it you’re looking for?”

“I have some gold- might I bother you for a piece of bread and some cheese?”

“Beron, give the poor girl some food!” A woman who looked to be in her mid-forties spoke up from the side of the camp. “Dearie, keep your gold. We’ll happily feed you.”

“That’s wonderful- I’m terribly hungry.” Zenotha grinned and narrowed her eyes. Soram took her lead and barged into the camp, transforming smoothly and tearing down the closest camp guard. She herself let the blood take over, and the two of them turned into a whirlwind of sharp teeth and claws. In a matter of minutes, the only Silver Hand left standing was the woman who’d offered her food. Soram growled and started to stalk towards her, but Zenotha put herself between them as she slipped back into her human form. Soram snarled at her but started trying to change back. It was an awkward process, and Zenotha turned to the woman in the meantime. She was frozen in fear and took a few steps back. Zenotha licked the blood off her teeth and smiled at her. “You will be rewarded for your kindness, madam. You get to live another day. But if you ever cross my path again, and your or your kin raise their sword to me, I will tear the skin from your bones and leave you on a pike as a warning. Do we have a deal?”

“I….” The woman couldn’t tear her eyes from Soram as he finally completely shifted back. “Yes, yes. A deal, thank you.”

“Perfect.” Zenotha smiled at her like she hadn’t just killed half a dozen people in front of her. She turned to face Soram. “Come, my friend. Back to Hendraheim.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha started awake the next night. She lost whole days sometimes after a large feeding, so it took her a moment to figure out where she was and when it was.

Something was wrong though, but she didn’t know what. Something didn’t smell right. Something was dead that she didn’t kill. She groaned inwardly and sincerely hoped she wasn’t about to step out of her room and see Soram eating something, or someone.

Fortunately, it was Vorstag she saw first when she emerged from her room. He had surprised them by showing up with some rabbit and was about to start on dinner. He also looked unamused. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew why. She slowly turned her head to look in the direction of Jenassa’s favorite corner and was not surprised to see Soram sitting there looking like a scolded child as Jenassa bustled out of her room, clearly angry about something. She saw Zenotha and looked even angrier.

“Go outside.” She had never seen or heard Jenassa this angry.

“Wait what? What did I…”

“Not you. This asshole.” Jenassa jerked her thumb towards Soram. “I am LIVID right now.”

‘Shit,’ Zenotha thought. He must have broken something expensive or made a mess. She picked up her coat nearby and slipped on her fur slippers. She trudged out of the house and was greeted with the smell that had woken her up. Confused, she looked around. Then, she walked around the side of the house towards the blacksmithing equipment. She froze when she saw where the smell was originating. The woman that Zenotha had expressly stopped Soram from killing, and who she declined to kill, was barely recognizable. Her entire body was covered in obvious claw marks, and most of her intact skin was covered in blood. Flies buzzed around her corpse. She’d been dead long enough that the smell was more nauseating than appealing, and she was annoyed that on top of this stupidity, she wouldn’t even benefit from feeding. She inhaled sharply, held it, and exhaled dramatically, flaring her nostrils in anger. She turned on her heels and walked back into the house.

She could feel Jenassa, Soram, and Vorstag all watching her warily. She wished Vorstag wasn’t there so she could fully rage at the other elves. She walked over to a small table near the door with a wine pitcher and calmly poured herself a full goblet. She silently walked back to the table on the left side of the house, sitting at the head of it. She set the goblet down quietly and looked at Jenassa and Soram.

“So.” She inhaled sharply again. “Tell me what in the everliving FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?”

Jenassa flinched and looked at Soram. Zenotha snapped her fingers. “Eyes on me, assholes.”

“Jenassa didn’t…”

‘Not what I asked,” Zenotha snapped. “Tell me. What the fuck. You were thinking. NOT ONLY going back and hunting that woman down after I said not to. BUT THEN. Bringing her here TO MY HOME and leaving her outside like a beacon for the wrath of the Silver Hand.”

“She followed us, or somehow found us. I had to do something.” Soram was definitely angry.

“So you felt that she absolutely needed to die?” She looked at Jenassa. “Can you verify any of this story?”

“No, Zen.”

“We’re not going to use cutesy nicknames right now, okay?” Zenotha smiled at her mockingly. She then turned back to Soram. “So. This woman finds the house. Did you stumble upon her? Did she walk up to the house directly? Was she trying to be stealthy?”

“She was just there, I don’t know.”

“Do not. Lie to me.” Zenotha’s eyes shifted from green to gold. Jenassa inhaled sharply. Soram looked at her but she ignored him, keeping her eyes on Zenotha.

“I was...hungry. I went outside thinking I might find a rabbit, or something. I saw her, on a horse, riding really close to the house. So I went after her.”

“You went after her while she was on her horse riding by the house. Tell me, why is there a dead person outside my door but no horse? Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate to kill the beast and leave her alone after I kept you from killing her the first time? Or better yet, come back inside so she didn’t see you?” Zenotha shifted her weight in the chair. “Tell me, why am I bothering to help you with your transition if you’re just going to do whatever the fuck you want and jeopardize me, Vorstag, your cousin, and my home? Does that sound like a reasonable reaction to this?”

“No, I guess not…”

“You GUESS not?” Zenotha snarled. “Outside. Now. I want you to clean every bit of flesh, every drop of blood, every last bit of that woman up, and I want you to clean it so well that no one passing by will be able to tell what you did. Now. And Jenassa?”

“Yes?”

“You are going to make sure he does it right.” Zenotha waved them away. As they shuffled away, she let herself slouch a little, and she stared into her wine. She had a bad feeling about all of this.

Chapter Text

Soram looked around the new (to him) house. Zenotha had been trying to work with him for a few weeks now, and even took him along with her for a few “work gigs” as she liked to call them. He’d managed to save up quickly and get a small house in Dawnstar, which he suspected Zenotha suggested so that he would be potentially under the watchful eye of the Dawnstar Sanctuary. No matter, he was here and he honestly liked being in the snow.

It had been two weeks since the last gig, and he’d barely seen Zenotha, or Vorstag, or even Jenassa. He missed the travel, and he admittedly missed spending time with Zenotha. He secretly resented that she was married, but wondered how much of that resentment was merely the fact that he’d never met a female werewolf aside from the one who had turned him, and wondered what it would be like to have someone so closely related to you. He’d allowed a previous lover to turn him, but she was gone from his life as quickly as she’d entered. It was stupid to have let her do it, but it didn’t matter anymore- what was done was done.

His home had a slightly higher vantage point than most of the buildings in Dawnstar. He liked to sit out front and watch the ships come in and leave, and could watch the edge of the hills where he knew the entrance to the Dawnstar Sanctuary was. The other residents of the city mostly left him alone- he wasn’t sure if they were minding their own business or deliberately avoiding him because he was Dunmer. It was fine, either way.

Something caught his eye near the pier. It was Zenotha, talking to a shiphand. Vorstag Was his usual four feet or so behind her, and Jenassa stood between them. Her gaze roamed over the city and found his. She made no sign outwardly that she saw him but instinctively looked over at Vorstag. She had to know. She’d always been the most perceptive of his cousins, and the most stoic when the family began to crumble around her.

Zenotha nodded and shook the shiphand’s hand. The trio parted ways with him. Soram half smiled to himself. There had to be a job. He was mildly disappointed when they vanished into the Windpeak Inn. His gut told him to go in after them. He grabbed his daggers, hid them under a cloak, and set off down the rocks leading to his house.

When he entered the inn, Jenassa and Vorstag were standing very close to the door, but Zenotha was leaned over the bar talking to Thoring. He looked incredibly upset about something. She glanced back at Soram without reacting, then turned her focus back to Thoring. He handed her a piece of parchment, which she scanned quickly. She smirked and nodded to him. They shook hands and walked over to Soram.

“It’s your lucky day. Karita’s gone missing and Thoring is pretty sure he knows where the bandits are that took her. Problem is, there are a LOT of them, so we’re probably going to need all four of us. But we can’t be stupid. No mistakes this time,” she hissed at Soram. “I won’t be so forgiving next time. I don’t give a fuck who you’re related to.”

Vorstag snorted and instinctively reached out for her hand. She glanced over at him briefly and winked. Jenassa playfully punched Soram on the arm. Zenotha grabbed her bow and led the way out of the inn.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Vorstag crept up behind a large tree, flattening himself against the trunk. He squinted in the dark to see if he could see Soram and Zenotha in the dark. He heard Jenassa approaching close behind him.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” He whispered. “I know he’s your cousin and you love him, but he makes me nervous.”

“I mean, if I’m being honest, I don’t think we should have brought him for this. He’s still not in complete control of himself.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“If we were just getting rid of bandits, I’d feel better about it, but I’m afraid Karita…… oh no,” Jenassa said as her eyes widened. Vorstag looked in the direction of where she was pointing. Soram had prematurely transformed and was descending on the bandit camp. Zenotha ran down behind him, heading straight for the tent where they were pretty sure Karita was. Soram whirled around and snarled, swiping at her. She rolled sideways and kept running. “Shit!”

Vorstag and Jenassa rushed in to join the fight. Jenassa had brought swords with the sole purpose of being able to whirl through the targets, easily cutting them down. He had brought a greatsword for the purpose of clearing out any stragglers that went after either of the women. He cut a few down easily, but there were more of them than they had planned for. Jenassa branched off in the direction Zenotha had run, so Vorstag went to defend Soram.

Soram was slashing and biting indiscriminately at anyone who crossed his path. Vorstag rolled his eyes but kept with him anyway. He cut down another three bandits, and then suddenly everything went black.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha rubbed the blood out of her eyes before scooping up Karita and pulling her out of the tent. She cut off her binds quickly and pushed her away. “Run!”

The girl ran into the woods, disappearing into the trees. Zenotha spun around, trying to locate her compatriots. She saw Jenassa easily take down two bandits who had tried to sneak up on her. She looked up and made eye contact with Zenotha. It was then that they both heard the unmistakable roar of a werewolf and looked over just in time to see Soram, still in beast form, gash one of clawed hands down Vortag’s chest and jump on top of him, snarling.

“Vorstag!” Zenotha froze. Blood began to pool in the snow. She raised her bow and aimed an arrow at Soram’s chest. He dodged it and also ran off into the woods. She ran over to Vorstag and examined his wounds. She didn’t notice that Jenassa came over until she put her hand on Zenotha’s arm. She pushed Jenassa away from her and stared at her with the purest wrath she’d ever seen. “No. Go get help instead. Windhelm- Quintus at The White Phial. And don’t you dare let Soram know we’re going there.”

Jenassa backed away, not completely certain the Zenotha wouldn’t burn her to a crisp where she stood. When she turned her back to Jenassa and began trying to heal Vorstag, Jenassa turned and fled. She leapt onto the back of one of the bandits' horses and sped off to Windhelm. Fortunately, they were far closer to Windhelm than Dawnstar, and Quintus was definitely more talented than Frida.

Meanwhile, Vorstag’s condition had worsened. Zenotha was desperately trying to stop the bleeding but there was only so much she could do with her magic. She crawled over to a dead bandit nearby and hacked off as much of his cloak as possible. She hacked it into strips and pressed them onto the wound. Her heart sank and tears started streaming down her face. “Please don’t leave me. Please….”

This was the most afraid she’d ever been of anything in her entire life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jenassa hurried out through the front gates of Windhelm and made a beeline for the stables. Alfarinn was brushing down his horse. He looked up as she approached. “Hello, Jenassa! What can I do for you?”

“I need to get to Dawnstar, but I need to get there when it starts to get dark. And then I’ll need to get back discreetly.”

“Sure thing. I’ve even got some fresh blankets in back. What are you up to…” He trailed off when she held up a decently sized bag of gold.

“I was never here. You never took me to Dawnstar. And you definitely don’t know what happened there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He took the gold from her and tucked it into a larger bag in the carriage. He subtly jerked his head towards the back of the carriage. “I’m off to see an old friend in Dawnstar.”

Jenassa glanced around quickly, and climbed in back. She quickly pulled the blankets over her. Alfarinn tucked the edges around her and loaded up a couple of bags of flour to disguise her shape. She shifted slightly and sighed. This was going to be a long, rough ride. All she cared about was finding Soram. She’d figured out after the first few mistakes that she was pretty sure he actually black out during beast transformations. It was most likely that he had no idea that Vorstag was barely clinging to life in Windhelm. Taking him there was deliberate, as the trio had all agreed not to let Soram know about the home there- they’d all noticed Soram’s stares and not-so-subtle flirting. She’d been grateful that neither Vorstag or Zen had particularly pushed the issue, but she guessed she should have seen this going wrong early on. All she was concerned about right now was getting back to Soram before anyone else.

The ride seemed to take forever. Alfarinn would occasionally shout back at her as they passed key landmarks. He tried to keep too much snow from piling up on her, and would tap her gently when someone else passed by or came close. At one point, the carriage stopped and a group approached them that sounded like a good four or five men, probably Nords. She slowly slipped her hands down to the hilts of her daggers. She exhaled slowly and craned her neck to listen. Lucky for her, it sounded like a group wanting to join up with the Stormcloaks. Alfarinn politely pointed them towards Windhelm, then was quiet again as the carriage started back up again. She released her grip on the daggers. “The road’s clear as far as I can see, if you need to move.”

Jenassa gladly took the opportunity to roll over on her other side. Her anxiety was beginning to spike, and she was definitely not looking forward to having to let Soram know what had happened… or finding out if he really did remember. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. When the carriage stopped next, it was time to come out and face her cousin. She crawled out from under the blankets and stretched. Afarinn nodded to her silently. She grabbed her daggers, nodded back to him, and started up on the path to Soram’s house. He was seated outside on his front patio. He grinned and waved to her.

“Jen! This is a nice surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He stood as she approached.

“What, I need a reason to visit my baby cousin?” She forced a smile.

“I’m only a couple of years younger than you if I remember right.” The cousins embraced. “Hey, I have some stew going in a pot inside. Stay for dinner?”

“Sure!” Jenassa looked around before she followed him into the house. It was surprisingly warm, between the stove and the fireplace. It was impossibly neat, just like she remembered him being as a young boy. He pointed to a large comfortable-looking chair in the corner. She hesitated but sat down. He scooped some soup into a bowl for her and grabbed a spoon.

“Here. Better than my mom’s.” He winked. He scooped himself some and sat in the other large comfortable-looking chair. He slurped a spoonful, then looked at her. “Any good jobs recently? You had one the other day, right?”

“The other day…. You mean Karita?”

“Yes. I saw you guys got her back home. Thoring was just telling me how grateful he is to you.”

“Karita was a group effort…. Remember, at the bandit camp?”

“Nope.” Another slurp. “You haven’t given me the juicy details yet.”

“Soram… you were with us.”

“What? Stop messing around with me.” He grinned. “Now tell me all about it. My ass-kicking cousin helped the Dragonborn save the damsel. They’re going to write poems about you.”

“Soram, I’m serious. You went with us. It was you, me, Zen, and Vorstag.”

“Ugh, Vorstag. Zenotha could do so much better than that blockhead.” Soram furrowed his brow in disappointment. “Not that it’s my place to judge.”

“Soram!” Jenassa put down her stew. “Listen to me. I am not fucking around with you. It was the four of us together.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Soram also put down his stew. I would remember a big job like that.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about. I think that when you go werewolf, your memory blacks out. Do you remember the woman at Hendraheim?”

“How could I forget that mess. I swear I can still smell her corpse.”

“But do you remember killing her?”

“Barely. A little.”

“Well, you went werewolf when we went to go find Karita.” Jenassa fidgeted. “And you hurt Vorstag. Pretty badly.”

“Huh,” Soram said without a flinch.

“Like he might die, hurt him.” She frowned. His face showed no emotion.

“Well I’m glad you let me know. That’s going to be awkward.”

“Aren’t you… upset?”

“I mean I’m not happy about it. But it sounds like what’s done is done.”

“Yeah, I understand that... I guess.”

“If I’m the reason Zenotha winds up widowed, she’ll never be able to look at me again.”

“I suppose that’s right…” Jenassa was horrified. If she didn’t know better, she’d think this whole thing was a setup. She really did believe he honestly had no memory of any of these events. It was a shame that it seemed he’d never get this under control.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Calder sighed and watched as Zenotha paced non-stop in the dining room of Hjerim. He was newer to her staff, and wasn’t exactly sure where to place this on a spectrum of her normal behavior. She was wearing a white fur dress with a “spine” of blood-red fur that pointed downward into a slight train. Rayya had managed to get her to sit long enough for her to braid her hair and pin it up. Calder was pretty sure that Zenotha was mentally preparing herself for a funeral. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but stopped when he saw Rayya anxiously shaking her head at him.

“My thane, would you like me to make you some tea?” Rayya asked gently. She placed her hand on the back of a chair. Zenotha didn’t even seem to hear her. “Zenotha? Would you like anything? Please?”

Zenotha spun around, ready to snap. She stopped, clearly distraught. “Sure, yes. Okay.”

Rayya smiled weakly and walked out of the room. Zenotha plopped down in the chair she’d been directed to. She leaned forward with her head on her hands and sighed. The two stayed silent for what seemed like an eternity. Calder picked at his fingernails, looking up at her occasionally, and when Rayya came back into the room with a steaming cup of tea. She set it down on the small table next to Zenotha.

“Rayya, can you please go check on him?” Zenotha’s voice was shaky. “I get not allowing me in there but I have to know.”

“Zen, please. I promise you, he will send word. Faendal is there specifically for that.” Rayya put her hand on her shoulder. “Quintus is very good at what he does.”

Faendal burst into the room, obviously flustered. “Zen, there’s something you should see.”

“Vorstag?” She practically leapt to her feet.

“No. Jenassa.”

“I don’t want to see her right now,” she said calmly.

“Um… so I think you actually do. Things got weird.” Faendal wrung his hands. “You can’t make this up.”

“Fine. This better be good, though.”

“I’m not sure I would call it ‘good’ but you need to see for yourself.” He opened the door for her. She obliged, stepping out onto a layer of fresh snow. The white dress almost blended in aside from the scarlet along her spine. Calder and Rayya fell into step behind her, with her on Faendal’s arm. They walked slowly toward the main gate, attracting plenty of attention on the way. They passed The White Phial, with Zenotha straining to see if she could see any sort of update on Vorstag. Faendal paused. “Zen, come on.”

The group continued on towards the front gate. An unmistakable figure was standing in the middle of the town square. Zenotha clenched her jaw but gracefully allowed Faendal to walk her all the way. Jenassa watched her, unblinking. It occurred to Faendal that Zenotha had intentionally dressed the way she had in case of a public showdown. He chuckled to himself.

“What do you want?” Zenotha sneered.

“I have a gift for you. Payment of a debt,” Jenassa said.

“Fine. What is it?”

“We have a guest.” Jenassa motioned to someone behind her. Someone Zenotha didn’t recognize stepped forward through a row of spectators to stand next to her. He was holding a wicker basket. He lifted the lid for her. She reached in and pulled out a severed head, and threw it to the ground in front of Zenotha. Severap cries sounded from onlookers. Looking up at her was the lifeless face of Soram. She stepped back to avoid the spreading pool of blood at her feet. When she looked back up, Jenassa had turned and was walking towards the Windhelm gates.

“Get her back to the house.” Zenotha lowered her gaze back down to Soram’s head. “And do something with this. Something dramatic.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Jenassa scrubbed her hands in the washbasin, trying to get the last bit of blood from her fingernails. She looked up at Zenotha, still in her white dress.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Zenotha glanced back at her.

“Yes I did.”

“And why is that?”

“He blacks out...er, blacked out… whenever he went into beast mode. He couldn’t even remember the people he killed. In the case of harming Vorstag, he didn’t particularly seem to care. That’s when I knew he was more of a liability and a danger than anything.” Jenassa sighed and dried off her hands. “He almost seemed happy that Vorstag’s in limbo. It was horrifying to listen to.”

“The head in a basket was a bit dramatic.”

“Ideally I wanted to bring him here alive but it was better to stab him in his house. Easier to sneak out a severed head than a whole body.”

“Did you actually ride the whole way here with a severed head?”

“Yeah, I put it in snow to keep it fresh just for you.” Jenassa smirked, eliciting a laugh from Zenotha.

“And you’re handling it okay that you had to straight up kill family?”

“I mean I guess so. Let’s be honest, I’m far closer to you two than I was with him.”

“That means a lot, I think.”

Chapter Text

Zenotha slipped out of bed anxiously, grabbing her good fur robe and padding down the stairs of Hjerim barefoot. She slipped out the front door silently and headed towards the White Phial. The snow was fresh and almost pure white, and she knew that her black hair and robe created a stark contrast to it. She couldn’t wait anymore- she didn’t care if she had to sleep in the doorway of the alchemist’s shop. Even if the answer was bad, she needed it and needed it now. She’d barely been sleeping and every thought during the day was about Vorstag.

She approached the door and knocked, pausing only a moment to look up at how beautiful the moon was that night. She was grateful that she’d gotten the beast blood as under control as she had as quickly as she had. She was stunned when the door actually opened up quickly. Quintus sighed. “It was touch and go but he’s alright.”

Zenotha let out a blood curdling shriek as she collapsed onto the stone of the courtyard. Quintus put a hand on her shoulder and offered her a hand to help her up. She took it, shaking, and stepped into the shop. Quintus gestured up the stairs, which she took two at a time. She froze at the top of them when she saw Vorstag. He turned his head to look at her, a faint smile on his face. She crossed the room in a blur, throwing herself onto his chest. He put a hand on her back. “Hello, love.”

“Vorstag,” she sobbed. “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

“I’m alright, Zen. And you’re here now….” He trailed off as she kissed him roughly and ran a hand up his chest. He caught her hand. “Just because I’m awake doesn’t mean Quintus is going to be okay with us having sex in his shop.”

“It’s fine. I can wait. A little while.”

“How long have I been hurt?”

“A week. Soram’s doing. And before you ask, Jenassa took care of it.”

Vorstag groaned. “What do you mean ‘took care of it’?”

“Full details?” The corners of Zenotha’s mouth curled up in a vindictive sneer. “She made sure we got you here, then went back to Dawnstar, killed Soram, cut off his head, and brought it back, throwing it at my feet in the middle of the main square in front of everyone.”

“.... Wow. Okay. All this for little old me?"

“He’s lucky she did it because I’d have done terrible, terrible things to him first. Everything he did to you, I’d have mimicked with a dagger. Slowly.”

“I forget you’re relatively intense.”

“‘Relatively’? I’m incredibly intense.”

“Incredible is definitely a word for you.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha re-fluffed the pillows propping up Vorstag, fussing over him almost as protectively as he fussed over her after her tangle with Frey. Quintus had warned Zenotha to take it easy on him, and she was actually doing a pretty good job. She made sure his dressings were changed and cleaned the almost-healed wounds with a slight boost from her own healing abilities. Vorstag and Jenassa almost didn’t recognize her- her entire existence was dedicated to caring for him, and every ounce of her demeanor had softened: minimal swearing, almost no yelling, and oddly dedicated to what she used to refer to with scorn as ‘being a good wife.’ She kept everyone else out of his room, going as far as physically removing anyone who even looked like they were going to enter the room. She’d gone back to wearing the white gown from her showdown with Jenassa because he absolutely loved it, and he’d asked her to tell him the entire story more than once. She slept next to him, head on his chest and arm draped over him protectively.

He woke up a few days into his recovery to Jenassa shaking him gently. He looked around, confused. “Where’s Zen?”

“It’s fine. She had to run and errand. She, of course, didn’t tell me what said errand was, but she should be back before sundown.” She smiled. "You need to eat something."

“I hope she’s not off doing something stupid.”

“I mean, it is a distinct possibility.” They both turned towards the door at the sound of what had to be Zenotha crashing into the house. Jenassa threw Vorstag a sideways smirk and left the room. Seconds later, Zenotha came in the room, wearing none other than the green dress from after the assassination. She was carrying two very large jugs of mead.

“I was hoping I would be back before you woke up.” She set the jugs down and rushed over to the bed. She kissed him enthusiastically and climbed into bed next to him. He let his gaze wander over the dress.

“I love this dress on you…”

“I know,” she blurted. “Jenassa told me.”

“I mean, it’s a beautiful dress anyway. But I went from thinking you were dead to it being the first thing I saw on you afterward. You’re… complicated.”

“And you aren’t?” She smirked.

“You’re a lot prettier than I am.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be a bit of a head-turner yourself.” She laughed when his face went red.

“On a serious note, what’s the plan with the….” He trailed off when she put a finger to his lips.

“Please, nothing serious right now. The last week and a half has been serious enough and I don’t know if I can take any more right now.”

Vorstag sighed dramatically. “Fine. Since I love you…”

“I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Zenotha rolled her eyes as the last draugr fell. It had been a pretty straightforward cave clearing errand for a local farm that she hadn’t been entirely interested in doing but it was easy gold and easy enough work that Vorstag wouldn’t nag her about it (not that he currently had any room to talk). Her scars had mostly healed but she had occasional pain if she laughed too hard or bumped into something a little too hard. She picked up the few pieces of jewelry they’d found in a chest. There was a pretty diamond necklace that wasn’t her style that could easily fetch a small fortune, a few simple rings that were good for a few gold or maybe crafting, and a super simple silver circlet that would probably be sold to Taarie. The most interesting piece, however, was an emerald ring with some of the most intricate carving that she’d ever seen. It didn’t seem like any specific symbols, just ornate scrollwork with some lines. She tried it on her largest finger and it was loose- maybe it would fit Vorstag. She shoved it in her pocket and motioned for Jenassa to follow. “Let’s get home.”

The two trudged out of the cave into an evening sky bright with the colors of the setting sun. It smelled like it was about to rain, and they pulled their cloaks closer. Zenotha jumped up on Shadowmere and started off, with Jenassa on her horse not far behind. The group was currently holed up at Lakeview Manor, which had recently become her current favorite home. The temperature was warm enough to not need a fire during the day, and she’d spent more than a few evenings on her upper patio watching the sun set over the water. They rarely had problems they couldn’t easily solve there (outside of a giant that had walked up and charged halfway up the stairs before any of them even knew he was there).

The temperature dropped slightly as they turned towards home, but the rain she smelled held off until they approached the house. She slid off Shadowmere, chuckling as he friskily jumped around in the drizzle. Faendal came out of the small house they’d built next to the main house, nodding to her that he would take care of the horses. Jenassa was close behind her, muttering something about the rain that Zenotha couldn’t quite make out. Argis and Vorstag were inside, sitting next to the fire and both roaring with laughter at something one of them had said. Vorstag saw them first, jumping to his feet to offer Zenotha his seat. She scowled at him. “Sit your ass back down. You shouldn’t even be out of bed right now.”

“I’m doing much better. You can stop nagging me about it.” He eased himself back into his seat.

“Excuse me? I got stabbed and you refused to let me out of bed without nagging me for weeks!” She shook her head. “You definitely should not be jumping out of seats, either.”

“I’m taking a nap,” Jenassa muttered as she stomped up the stairs, Argis jumped up to follow her and Zenotha snorted, louder than she had meant to. Zenotha returned the chair to the main table and took Argas’. She dug the ring out of her pocket.

“Here, we found this. It’s too big for either Jenassa or myself and I figured I’d ask you if you wanted it before we take the haul to sell.” She turned it over in her hands before holding it up to catch the light from the fire in its facets. “I was super bummed it didn’t fit me because I would literally never take it off. The craftsmanship is incredible.”

Vorstag took it from her, turning it over and over, holding it up to different light sources to see every detail. “Are you sure you don’t want to try to sell this? You could probably pay everyone for another month with what you’d make off of it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if paying everyone actually becomes an issue.”

“I mean, it’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong.”

“So shut up and put it on.” She snorted and held her hand out. “It kinda matches this one.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged it towards him, nearly pulling her out of her chair. “Now this here is some fine craftsmanship. Whoever gave this to you clearly has good taste.”

“You? Good taste?” She pretended to scoff at him. “You’re married to me, I think ‘good taste’ is generous.”

“I worked hard for that, you know.”

“I have to concede that one to you,” She chuckled. “THAT was a wild ride for both of us. Oof. At least I only had to rip out one throat.”

“But…” he trailed off. She cackled sincerely.

‘Oh, relax, you know I don’t blame you for that.” She stood. “I do, however, need a hot bath and a nap.”

* * * * * * * * * *

It was the dream again.

She’d gone almost two weeks without it but it was back.

Alone on a beach, waves crashing. Sword in hand, waiting for something. She never saw what it was, but she somehow knew, though she would never be able to express what it was to anyone who asked. She would just never be able to get restful sleep for the rest of her life thanks to her beast blood. She opened her mouth to shout or scream or anything at all. Instead, suddenly, she was moving, jostled around by a separate mysterious force.

She woke up with Vorstag gently shaking her. “Zen, are you okay?”
“Umm… yes? Maybe?”

“Was it the dream again?”

“How the hell do you know about that?”

“Jen.”

“Fantastic.” She stretched dramatically, frowning slightly when her ankle made an annoying cracking sound. “Fuck.”

“You should stay in bed with me all day.”

“Maybe. I want to at least go for a walk and get some air. It’s cooled off a lot since the rain.” She pushed herself up on her hands. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be back in a little bit.”

She bent down to kiss his forehead before slipping out of bed and padding into the main hall of the house. Argos and Jenassa were still upstairs, and Rayya was… somewhere. She snatched up her robe from just inside her room. She grabbed a nearby dagger for a just in case and headed out the front door.

She shot a glance over at Faendal and Camilla’s small house and saw nothing out of the ordinary. She could definitely smell Camilla’s cooking, however, and made a mental note to check it out later. She grinned as she headed down to the river. She picked up the hem of her nightgown and stepped into the very shallowest area of the water. She winced- along with the outside air getting colder, the water had followed suit.

She caught sight of a flurry of movement to her left. Glancing over, she was relieved that it seemed like just a frisky rabbit also out to enjoy the cooler weather. She was surprised, however, to see a courier she was unfamiliar with. The man set her teeth on edge for some reason. He had sharp features like high cheekbones, an aggressive jaw line, and unfriendly eyes that were red and definitely hiding something.

“Ahhh, the legendary Zenotha Aedius. No, no, there’s no need for that,” he said as she reached for the dagger. “I’m only here to deliver an invitation to a dinner. It’s between Dawnstar and Winterhold. We affectionately call it Bloodchill Manor.”

“...oh.” She tensed up as he approached her, with a piece of paper in his outstretched hand. “Thank you. I think.”

“We look forward to having you for dinner.” He turned and walked away, disappearing into the woods faster than he should have. She clumsily opened the letter:

“You have been cordially invited to dinner and drinks at Bloodchill Manor. As an honored guest, you are encouraged to come early and mingle with the other attendees. When you are ready to feast, ask the house waiter for a menu and he will let you into the banquet hall.

“The finest and most delectable dishes will be on display. There will be no need for appetizers. Once everyone is ready and seated, a full course awaits.

Come for the dinner, stay for the drinks.”

“What the…” She whirled around at the sound of footsteps approaching behind her. It was Rayya, unsurprisingly. “Hey, I have a job for you. Up near Dawnstar.”

“Me?” She blinked back at her a few times.

“Yes. Jenassa deserves a break and time with Argis to plan their wedding. Vorstag isn’t well enough yet.” She held the letter out to her. “This is suspicious as hell, especially considering the absolute weirdo that delivered it. There’s no WAY this isn’t a setup of some sort.”

Rayya scanned it quickly, raising an eyebrow when she got to the end of it. She looked up at Zenotha. “Sure, let’s go. I’ll leave word with Faendal for the others and have him get the carriage ready.. Grab some armor and let’s get out of here.”

Nodding, Zenotha slipped back into the house. Fortunately, her armor wasn’t in the bedroom so she wouldn’t wake Vorstag, who was already sound asleep again. She went into the side room and got into her armor as quickly as she could. She was a pro at it at this point and was ready in record time. She shot another glance upstairs before ducking back outside. The carriage had clearly already been prepped hours ago, as it was ready to go at any time that they were ready. Faendal hauled out a few extra pillows, scolding Zenotha to make sure she used them. “You’re still not completely healed.”

“I have like another week.”

“Like I said, you’re not completely healed. Healed in a week isn’t healed now.”

“Oh, fine, I’ll use the damn pillows.” She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Rayya, let’s go to a sketchy dinner.”

They climbed into the carriage, Rayya letting her adjust herself before settling in after her. Rayya banged her fist on the panel between them and the driver before looking back at her. “You know Vorstag is going to flip that you didn’t tell him you were leaving, right?”

“He’ll be fine. We left a note.”

“If you say so.” Zenotha detected a note of judgment.

“Listen, if he weren’t still healing I’d have brought him. Or if the injuries weren’t in such a risky area.”

“No offense but are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“...what?”

“The excuses you keep making up to not bring Vorstag with you.”

“I like bringing Jenassa! Have you ever seen her dual wield?”

“... okay that’s a fair point.” Rayya tilted her head to the side. “She is lethal as hell.”

“Vorstag is great but holds himself back. Then, go figure, when he doesn’t, something goes wrong. Like the werewolf incident.” She shook her head. “I could never forgive myself if he was injured so badly again.”

“You’re gonna…” Rayya couldn’t keep back a laugh. “You’re gonna have to get over that. I’m sorry.”

“But…”

“No ‘but.’ You’re gonna have to get over it. We’re all at a risk of getting hurt. You most of all.”

“I get that, but…”

“Nope. No ‘but.’”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Zenotha stood in the middle of the main dining room of Bloodchill Manor, covered in blood. So much blood, in fact, that it was running down her arms and dripping onto the floor. She stared at the body of the waiter in front of her, who had managed to almost kill her. “Motherfucker. Are you okay, Rayya?”

“Um…” Zenotha looked up at her and her jaw dropped. The gargoyle that had confronted her managed to rake its claws from her neck all the way down her arm as it fell. Rayya started to sway a bit. “I need help…”

Zenotha looked over at the orc Durian. He nodded at her. He tossed her the key to the house. “I’ll get her to someone that can help.”

He walked over and scooped up Rayya. She nodded, clearly in pain. The two swept out of the dining room and up the stairs leading to the entrance to the cave. Relieved and suddenly exhausted, she decided to explore what was apparently her new home. It had beautiful architectural details, definitely designed by a vampire or someone really into their lore. Blood read draperies adorned both the doorway into the living room and all of the rooms off the main hallway except for one. They were finished off by thick gold rope fringe and had been recently meticulously cleaned. The walls were old stone, older even that some of the towers and other hideouts, but it was obvious someone had cared for those as well. She ran her fingers along the divots and looked down the side of the hallway at the two giant wooden doors. She walked over to open the first set of doors. They wouldn’t open initially so she tried the old key. It clicked open much louder than she had expected, and the door creaked open. Her jaw dropped when she saw what laid behind it. It was a two-floor room, with the upper floor only taking up the left side of the room. Downstairs was filled with crafting tables, everything from a staff enchanter to an alchemy table and more storage than was probably necessary. She cautiously stepped into the room, half expecting a gargoyle or unaccounted for vampire to swoop down and finish her off. She then remembered the blood she was trailing and stepped back out of the room, not wanting to get blood all over the ornate rugs. It was then that she realized some of the blood was her, coming from her shoulder. She was surprised she hadn’t noticed previously. She looked around for some sort of rags or even a washbasin to attend to the gash. She spotted one across the hall, in a room that looked like another crafting room but without a door. The room was dark, lit only by what looked like a small smith. The fire sent moving shadows up along the walls. Pushing aside a memory from childhood, she soaked a rag in the washbasin and pressed it to the wound, wincing when pain shot down her arm.

Vorstag was going to kill her this time. She shook her head before checking it. She scowled at it but was startled by a noise coming from the front door. She grabbed a nearby sword as her hand erupted in fire. She snarled and stepped into the hallway, stunned when she saw that it was, of all people, Vorstag. He looked distraught. He half collapsed when he saw her.

“V, what the hell? How did you even find this place?” She tossed the sword aside. “And what’s wrong?”

“I got a letter that you’d been wounded badly.”

“I mean, Rayya was but she’s been swept off to get some medical care.” She sighed. “Wait who was the letter from? And how did you know how to find this place?”

“It doesn’t say. It was a weird courier though, I’ve never seen him in any of your dealings.”

“Chiseled jaw, red eyes, looks like he could be there to deliver a message but could also be there to kill you?”

“How’d you know?”

“He brought me this letter. Here, read it. Then go up these stairs and look at what’s still in there.” She shoved the invitation at him. He scanned it, looking more and more concerned as he read. “Now read the shit I had to read aloud.”

Vorstag took the second letter from her. Almost immediately, his eyes widened and jaw dropped. He looked up to say something but instead his gaze fell on her shoulder wound. “Zen…”

“I know, I know, it’s fine. I’ll get it taken care of.” She shrugged. “Now go upstairs and look what the fuck happened.”

She watched him walk towards the dining room and smirked when he recoiled at the sight of the pile of bodies. He stepped over the nuisance waiter and looked all around the room before glancing back at her. She wrinkled her nose and shrugged again. He looked back down at the pools of blood spread all about the room. She walked up the stairs behind him. “This was all you?”

“Oh, no. The waiter was a vampire and definitely did like… twenty-five percent of this… oh, be careful, one of the gargoyles is right behind you.”

“What gargoyles… shit!” He stumbled backwards onto it. He whirled around to look down at it.

“Those were me, for sure. and I think Marina there was caught in the crossfire. Unfortunate.” She also stepped over the waiter, but walked towards the other end of the room. “Oh and this bard. Shame, she was quite talented. Someone left out the fact that I’m a werewolf though and couldn’t catch Sanguinare Vampiris.”

“You can’t become a vampire?”

“Not as far as I know. I can’t catch the disease and you need the disease to fester for a few days. I can’t catch ANY diseases. I can’t sleep that deeply but I’m okay with never having rock joint again. I’m surprised I’ve never told you any of this.”

“We don’t have a great track record of talking after a transformation.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” She sighed and stretched. “Now who am I paying to clean this up? The rugs and the bodies will all have to be burned just in case. I’d love to just fry them in here but I’m attached to these curtains.”

“Do you think we can pool the housecarls to do it? I’m trying to think of who won’t ask questions.”

“Agreed.” She winked at him. “See, you’re starting to get it.”

*************
Nelacar groaned when Zenotha walked into the inn. He shook his head, walking away from her towards his room.

“NELACAR get your ass back out here and look at my shoulder.”

“It’s always something with you!”

“You should see the other guys.”

“‘Guys’? Plural?”

“Yeah like five or six. To be fair two of them were gargoyles.”

“Gargoyles? If you keep putting yourself in these situations, I’m going to stop helping you.”

“First off, this was someone else. Secondly, you’re too proud of a person to do that.”

“Get over here so I can look at this. I can’t believe this is happening again. Has your stab wound even healed yet?”

“For all intents and purposes. Sometimes laughing is weird.”

“I”m not going to have to deal with the ire of your significant other, am I?”

“The opposite- I think he would be angrier if I didn’t get help for this. He’s angry at me if anyone.” She shrugged. “It hasn’t become quite a sore spot in the marriage yet, but I’m gonna have to start bringing him along with me to placate him.”

Nelacar shook his head at her but didn’t say anything. The area around the wound started to warm, and before long, there was only a faint scar as a reminder. “I’m going to give you something to put on this that should help with the scarring. And I mean it! I better not see you for at least another month.”

“You betcha!” Zenota winced before turning to head home.

Something was wrong, but she couldn’t even explain the feeling outside of approaching anxiety.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The smell hit her when she opened the door to Bloodchill manor. The smell of a stranger. She grabbed her bow off her back and readied an arrow. Whoever it was, it was definitely another werewolf, and she needed to know why they were in her house. She wondered if it was someone looking for repayment from someone who joined her for dinner but didn't stay for the drinks. She heard a noise from the kitchen as she descended the stairs. She wasn’t expecting who walked out from it-

Vorstag. But… She flared her nostrils as he approached her. She realized what had happened.

“What have you done?” Her eyes widened as she identified him as the source of the smell. “Who did this?”

“I… asked Farkas to help.” He averted his eyes. She sighed loudly.

“I hope you understand what you’ve done.”

Chapter Text

Vorstag sighed and craned his neck to look at Zenotha downstairs reading. She’d barely spoken to him since she’d gotten home and he couldn’t wipe the memory of the horrified look on her face when she realized he’d been turned into a werewolf himself. His gaze traveled down her hair to the curve of her spine and down the line of her leg. The only sound was the sound of her turning sharp, crisp pages, and an occasional clearing of her throat. Growling to himself, he tossed aside the book he himself was holding and descended the stairs near their bed. He crossed the room in a hurry, practically tearing the book out of her hand in order to cup her face in his hands. “No.”

“No?” She looked up at him, defiance sprayed across her face.

“I won’t let this be quiet. Don’t shut me out like this.”

“Vorstag.” She stood, swatting away his hands. “You don’t understand what you’ve done, REALLY understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“All of it.”

“All of what?”

“All of the PEACE YOU DESTROYED.” She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.

“Peace? DESTROYED?” His face turned to anger. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“This. YOU. You were my peace. My calm, my constant, my known variable.” She lowered her hand. “And now that’s been ripped away.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“Out there…” She turned away from him, shaking her head. “Blood, teeth, death… Blood. I kill, I get gold, that person doesn’t exist anymore, doesn’t matter. I come home… and you’re my calm, warmth, peace.”

“You can still have that.”

“NO.” She looked back. “You took that from me, took that from us. Now it’s just more blood, more death. It’s all I can smell on you anymore.”

“But… We share this now. I did this for us to share something.”

“Okay, so let’s share a hobby, not lycanthropy.”

“Zen, please…” He grabbed her hands roughly and pulled them out to her sides. “There’s still warmth and peace with us…”

“No. I can smell it all. I can feel it all. You were my respite from that.” She fell to her knees. “I’m so sorry.”

“I still can be if you would just TALK TO ME once in a while.” His tone sharpened. “How the fuck am I supposed to be here for you if I don’t know what you need? We’ve been over this. Keeping me at a distance doesn’t accomplish anything.”

“It just wasn’t supposed to be like this. This isn’t what I signed up for.” She sighed. “It’s not what either of us signed up for. I’m a monster. You weren’t supposed to get dragged into this.”

“I wasn’t dragged into it, I jumped down into it on my own.” He knelt down in front of her, lifting her chin with his finger and brushing his lips across hers. “I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else. I mean, especially if you’re in that black dress from the Bard’s College ceremony… You could get me to do just about anything in that, a damn warrior goddess.”

“V, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he snarled in her ear. She inhaled sharply at the change in his tone, eyes darting over at him. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, narrowing her eyes in question. “But you need to fucking talk to me. I’m tired of all this ‘I don’t want you to get hurt’ bullshit. It’s too late for that, we’re forever linked together and hurt is going to happen.”

“I understand that but I really need you to really hear me on this. This isn’t like changing the curtains. You’ve changed this. You’ve changed us. You can’t flatter me and just act like nothing’s changed. The Blood changes you. It changes your body. It changes your mind. You are different. We’re different now. It sounds ridiculous but not ever being able to get restful sleep is going to really have a lasting negative effect…”

“Zen, stop.” He covered her mouth with his hand. “We’ll figure it out. You can show me everything.”

She sighed. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you. This is serious.”

“You said that already.”

“Stop being so flippant.” She stood and sighed. “I’m going to bed.”

He stayed on the floor and watched her. She unbraided her hair as she walked, clearly still upset about the exchange. After a moment, he stood and followed her, watching her run her fingers through her hair. She paused when she realized she had eyes on her. She turned to look at him. “Coming with me?”

“You better believe it.” He caught up to her. “I really am serious about all of this by the way.”

“I hope you are.” She linked her fingers through his. “It really would have been easier to just take up basket weaving.”

“Nothing about pursuing you has been easy, what’s one more hurdle?”

She rolled her eyes in his direction, yawning and crawling into their massive bed. “It’s not too late for the basket weaving, you know.”

He jumped on the bed, eliciting an annoyed yelp from Zenotha. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back against the pile of pillows. He waggled his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes again and crawled onto his chest. “One night at a time.”