The Dark Brotherhood

9: Old friends

Daniah rode onward, not particularly sure where to head next, since Bryn would receive word of her work before she'd deliver it herself. She figured it was time to confront this follower of hers- something she'd been dreading and awaiting at the same time. And so, she rode in the direction of Windhelm, planning to take the boy captive and perhaps deliver him to Ulfric Stormcloak.
Still, though it seemed the best course of action, she wasn't sure she wanted to give him up. Sure, Ulfric was her superior- a leader who would possibly take the throne- but he was power-hungry, and Daniah worried he'd use the scout's information and kill him. This was something she didn't particularly fancy.
With a shake of her head, and a slight snort, Daniah realized she'd been growing soft. Only months ago, she'd have captured the scout and killed him herself.
Now she couldn't think of such a thing without a sickness coming to the pit of her stomach. He was an Imperial- she should have jumped at the idea to kill him and make a way to avenge her husband. But she just couldn't anymore. Perhaps she'd grown wiser during her hunting in the Dark Brotherhood, or perhaps she'd simply killed too much in her time. She didn't know which was true, nor did she care. She had to decide what to do before they reached the Hold.
The war of questions flooded her mind for some time, before she finally reached a decision. She WOULD capture him, and she WOULD take him to Ulfric. Better the death of one man to save thousands, than the death of thousands to save one.
She'd decided to stop in Whiterun for a rest, a check on her house there, and perhaps a secret meeting with her comrades in the Companions. And then, she'd ride onward. In the forests outside Whiterun, she'd capture her target at last.
When she reached the town, Daniah was greeted by many of her old friends she hadn't seen in ages. She answered each one, asking how they'd been and carrying on conversations for a while before heading onward toward the house.
She walked through the gates of the great city, grinning at the familiar sight of the place where it all began. She removed her cowl, making her way towards Breezehome, her small establishment near the gates.
She pulled out her key, unlocked the door, and walked inside. She was pleasantly surprised to find a fire in the pit and some fresh food laid out by her Housecarl, Lydia. Daniah stretched, walking up the stairs into her old bedroom, which was happily missing the cobwebs that should've been there. She pulled out a blue work dress she'd kept in the house for ages, slipping it on in place of her armor, and pulled her hair into a braid before slipping on some leather boots, and walking out into the city once again. First, she made her was toward the square, happy to see the ruins from the Stormcloak siege had been removed and the small amount of damage rebuilt. She ran her slender fingers along the white-washed wood of one of the benches, smiling as she heard the ever present yelling of the Talos preacher by the statue. He was still at it, even after all this time. Daniah shook her head contentedly, and went on.
She came to a stop as she almost ran into Lucia, one of the young children roaming the streets. Daniah flashed a huge smile at the little girl, handing her a golden sovereign like she used to every day she was in Whiterun. Lucia looked up at her, green eyes sparkling, as she exclaimed thanks. Daniah knew she could not grant the one thing this child wished for more than anything else. She was never here, and her house in Winterhold was far away- but she was hardly there either. Lucia would be left at home most of the time, even if Daniah could afford to adopt her.
That isn't to say she didn't want to. Lucia was a sweet little girl with an adventurous side and a heart as big as the Companions' hall itself. She was full of life, giggles, and childish joy despite her unfortunate position. Daniah knew that deep below all that, the girl's heart yearned for a family. She wanted parents to call her own, and brothers and sisters as well. She wanted a home- not just a house, but a HOME. The assassin had always wished to help her, but she knew the life of an adventurer's child was never easy.
"Thank you, miss Daniah!" Lucia called over her shoulder as she raced off to the inn. Daniah stood erect, sighing and continuing on her way to the Hall of the Companions.
She opened the massive doors, snaked inside and crept about in search of her shield-siblings. Farkas and Vilkas were probably downstairs in the Harbinger's office, so she'd head there first. Before she knew what hit her, an enormous bellow erupted from the dorms atop the stairs and some great weight had been thrown against her. With a screech of shock, Daniah hit the ground, the younger man on top of her. Of course, he held her in a headlock- one of the special ones she'd never break out of.
"Farkas... lemme...go!" she squeaked. His answer was a bellow of laughter.
"Never! You've been gone too long, shield-sister!"
"Farkas... ribs crushing... lungs giving... way..." Daniah choked. Finally, he let her go, and pulled her to her feet. She joined in his laughter now that she could breathe again, and gave him a warm embrace and a clap on the shoulder. Vilkas wasn't far behind him, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Oh great, the two stooges are back together," he said, the heavy Nordic accent still thick in his voice. Daniah smirked, embracing the older brother and patting his back.
"Great to see you too, your highness," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. He grinned at her, and the brothers led her into the feasting hall, where tales of what had happened commenced and went on for hours into the evening. Daniah hadn't had such a good time in ages. She laughed harder than she had since the last time she'd been here, and there seemed to be no end to her witty replies to questions as her flagon constantly grew emptier.
When the sun had long set, she strode out of the Hall (which by this time was full of drunk and sleeping men). She walked toward the Bannered Mare, where she'd receive secrets passed through innkeepers and local gossip- along with something a bit stronger than the Hall of Companions offered. She smiled as she opened the door and was greeted by the strong smell of ale, fresh bread and herbs, along with a blast of laughter that almost drowned out the playing of "Ragnar the Red" the bard was playing joyously.
Daniah ordered one of the strongest ales the establishment had to offer, and settled down at the bar to listen.
She didn't get far into a single conversation, because a young Nord with black hair plopped down next to her and greeted her warmly.
"Daniah!" she exclaimed, "How long has it been?"
"Amaranth!" Daniah called, "Far too long, I'm afraid. How's the hunting going?" The two women almost had to yell over the laughter and merrymaking in the background.
"Oh, it's fine! Kill a few Imperials here and there!" This was followed by a bout of tremendous laughter from the black-haired Nord.
"Good to hear!" Daniah grinned, lifting the flagon to her lips for a sip. Ama suddenly took it from her hand and threw it over her shoulder, successfully nailing a sleeping drunk in the face, and sending a cat into a fit of hisses and meows. She chuckled nervously, apologizing quietly.
"You don't need that goblin spittle!" she announced to the assassin, who was quite amused at the whole thing.
"Still don't drink, I see?" Daniah yelled over the shouting of the drunks, who were apparently fighting over the bard's next song.
"Nope!" Ama exclaimed, taking a swig from a spare flagon on the bar.