That's Madness (a Skyrim fanfiction)

Chapter Three - With Friends Like These...

I wake up with a crick in my neck. I'm almost certain there's a bruise on my leg somewhere and my head feels clouded, almost like I've had too much Sleeping Tree Sap or that one time I was sparring with Torvar and he caught me on the side of my head with his steel warhammer. I was apparently unconscious for three days and I had woken up in the Hall of the Dead, a few hours before I was going to be burnt on the Skyforge. Everyone had thought I was dead and poor Torvar had drunken himself into a terrible state.

How long have I been out now? When my vision clears, I can make our a dark and gloomy room with rotten wood and the wind howling outside. I think I'm in some kind of shack and it's creaky and kind of scary.

"Sleep well?" I hear a woman's voice ask.

I rub my eyes, still feeling a little dazed. "Where am I?"

"Does it matter?" the woman scoffs. "You're warm, dry...and still very much alive. That's more than can be said for old Grelod, hm?"

I feel my face flush. "You know about that?"

I can see her more clearly now. She's sitting atop a shelf, and there's a cowl covering her face. Dammit. I can't see her face at all. I don't know why, but I feel somewhat calmed in her presence...despite just murdering an old lady, which she knows about, and now I've been kidnapped and dragged to this place, I feel myself relaxing anyway. 

The woman laughs a little. "Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Word gets around...oh, but I'm not criticizing. It was a good kill. Old crone had it coming...and you saved a load of urchins to boot, as well. Ah, but there is a slight...problem,"

"Oh gods," I mutter under my breath. I'm probably going to die. 

"You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. A kill that you stole. A kill you must repay," the woman informs me. 

"What do you mean?" I stammer.

The woman laughs a little. "Well now. Funny you should ask. If you turn around, you'll notice my guests. I've 'collected' them from...well. That's not really important. The here and now, that's what matters. You see, there's a contract out on one of them, and that person can't leave this room alive. But which one? Go on, see if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make your kill. I just want to observe...and admire,"

Who is this woman? She must be the leader of the Dark Brotherhood...but, again, who exactly is she? How did she know where to find me? Who else knows that I killed Grelod?

I sigh and stand up, stretching a little. The woman doesn't take her eyes off of me and I unsheathe my two glass daggers. What I'd give for my bow. I rub my temples and then look at the people in front of me. There are three of them, with execution hoods covering their faces on their knees and bound. A man, a woman and a Khajiit.

I approach the man first. "What did I do? Please, whatever it is, I'm sorry," he sounds genuinely terrified and I feel bad for the poor guy.

"Hey, it's fine. I just want to talk to you. Who are you?" I try to calm him.

"My name is Fultheim. I'm a soldier. Well, mercenary, really. You know, a-a sellsword. I've locked in Skyrim all my life. That's all! I'm a nobody, really. So can't you just let me go?"

"Would anyone pay to have you killed?" I ask him.

"What? Oh gods, I don't want to die..." he starts blubbering and I sigh irritably. I'm clearly getting nowhere with him.

I approach the next person, the woman. "I don't have time for this nonsense!" the woman snaps. "I've got a home to keep and children to feed. Now let me out of here!"