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The Emperor is dead. Long live the Emperor. Titus Mede, second of his name, hailing from the kingdom of Cyrodil, inheritor of the Great War and wearer of an Aldemeri leash.
News of his death spreads across Skyrim in hushed whispers as often as in protracted proclamations. It is the sort of news often met with stunned silence. The civil war itself stands still. Locked in war rooms are the leaders of the land. The noblesse hire swordarms in their fear. Behind the stone walls of the capitol cities there is unrest. Out in the plains, swamps and mountains, families refuse to leave their homes after dark. A new age of horror to be ushered in.
There is no doubt in anyone's mind that the Dark Brotherhood has returned.
All of this because of single blade. Eluned’s blade, across a single throat. Titus Mede was quite gracious about his demise. Such is the role of an emperor, he understood, to die for the machinations of his court. Just as such as it was Eluned's role to usher in that death, to bring about the next would-be king. Connected they are in this way, emperors and assassins, owing to each other their starts and ends.
So busy is the realm with the death knell of the Empire, that hardly any talk is spared to another death of that same night. Commander Maro's body lies at the bottom of Solitude's harbor. In his final moments, his eyes burn in recognition, in disbelief and regret. Eluned draws out his death far longer than the Emperor's. Though, even that does not pay for the bodies of her family, burned and hanged in the woods of Falkreath. If circumstances would allow, she'd have kept him in a hole. Alive, but flayed; alive but wishing for the sweetness of the Void.
But, despite the Brotherhood's newfound infamy, they are still rats, hiding in shadows, licking their wounds and too few in number. It would be too much of a risk to take Maro alive. So he dies, and his body sinks. Bloated and waterlogged and picked at by slaughterfish.
The roads are swarming with army men and guards. Eluned collects payment under cover of night. Makes it back to Dawnstar by keeping off the main roads and using her powers of illusion to wrap shadows around herself.
Their new sanctuary is barely a sanctuary. A dark cave covered in cobwebs and dirt. Not a home. A place to hide. But her success is enough to bring something like hope to the rest of the survivors. Nazir and Babette rejoice at the news and at their payment. It is enough to rebuild, Nazir insists. He has already begun clearing the space, investigating where it is they should go from here. They speak of the family. Of what they've lost. She notices they pointedly avoid the topic of Astrid around her.
She is not keen to talk about her, so perhaps it is for the best that they watch themselves. Though, the blade she now wields is inherited from Astrid, and it sits heavy and conspicuous at her hip. Another presence in the room with them.
Eventually the talking dies down. Eluned, for her reward, sleeps. Sleeps a whole day away. When she awakes she finds Nazir and Babette huddled over parchment and quills, discussing numbers once more. She slips away past them outside, into the cold Dawnstar morning. She walks along the coast until she finds a rock to sit at.
Looking out at the Sea of Ghosts she takes a deep breath in. Let's the chill settle around her. The jagged lines of ice on water mar the horizon, blending in with the gray of the sky, the streaks of aurora.
She wraps her furs closer around herself. The cold of this northern region is unforgiving. Not like what she’s used to. The land of her birth is the Reach, where the air is thin and the cold a constant of the altitude. It still does not compare to the ice of the sea. The wind that blows here hurts, lands on your face sharply. It is all together another type of dangerous. The ships that come and go another type of fearless.She thinks the Nords that make their home here are of a stubborn stock.
She is only bought out of her thoughts by approaching footsteps in the snow. Her hand immediately goes to the blade at her hip. Adrenaline tensing up her posture.
Though, she relaxes once she realizes it is a face she recognizes. She sighs in relief.
"Was wondering when you'd show up."
Cicero flashes her a wicked smile. He falls to his knees at her legs.
"Listener," he greets, before placing his hands on the rock, bracketing her. He leans up closer to her face.
"How foolish to spare poor old, Cicero…" he starts, "And leave him such a wonderful opportunity for revenge. Don't you realize I've come to kill you, and take my rightful place as leader of the Brotherhood?"
Eluned holds her breath. Cicero holds her stare. An eternally long moment passes before Cicero's grin cracks even wider, and he throws his head back in laughter.
Eluned, in response, slaps him hard enough he falls to the ground, that hysterical cackle not faltering for a moment.
She stands, looming over him with an unamused glare.
"A joke! Dear mistress. Simply a jest."
"Hm. My dear returned friend," she replies, planting her boot on his chest, "If not to kill than what?"
"No, no, no, Cicero is not here to kill the kind Listener. But to serve. Now and evermore. At least, until one of us dies horribly in service to our Mother."
He begins that cackling again, and Eluned's foot moves to his neck, making the sound end off in a choke.
"Will you swear fealty to me?" she asks.
"My fealty is to the Night Mother, and the Dread Lord Sithis."
"And their will flows through me."
Cicero looks up at her, still withering, with what she thinks might be adoration. She presses down a little harder.
His hand comes up to hold her ankle, to ease the pressure enough to speak.
"The role of Keeper means I not only protect the Night Mother, but the Listener as well."
"Is that so?"
"Of course. There is no doubt of it. Cicero throws himself at your feet."
There is truth in his eyes. She begins to ease off of him but his hand on her ankle keeps her in place. Keeping her eye contact, he begins to kiss the bottom of her shoe. First get a quick peck, and then, a longer kiss at the heel of her foot.
For the first time since Astrid's death, Eluned finds herself smiling.