The Dragonborn's Apprentice

Voth Fahdon

I crumpled the note and quickly stuck it into a fold in my armor. The bartender gave me an inquisitive look, but I dismissed her with a smile.

"A letter from my dear old mother," I lied. "I'm afraid she's rather senile."

I asked the bartender for a room. There was no way I was staying out tonight. I was already exhausted from the long day I had and just wanted to sleep all this away. Afterwards I would return to my life of rigorous training and running errands for Sanguine. For once, being the Dragonborn's apprentice didn't seem so horrid.

I tried to snuggle into the small cot but tossed and turned for hours. The feeling of being watched loomed over me like an incoming storm. Finally, I drifted into a hard, needed sleep with only one thing on my mind.

They know. They know and they're coming for me.

...

I woke up in a bed that I knew I didn't fall asleep in. I bolted upright and looked around, my vision still blurry and my limbs still lead-like. I had been drugged with something, I never slept this heavy.

"Sleep well?" Cooed an oddly familiar female voice. My eyes and body snapped to attention. Someone was here with me. Lounging atop a corner shelf was a figure, clad in red and black. A Dark Brotherhood assassin.

"What? Where am I? Who are you?" I spat, unable to contain my nervous energy.

"Doesn't matter," said the woman. Her words were muffled by the hood that concealed everything but her brooding eyes. I couldn't get over how familiar her voice seemed, "You're still warm, dry, and very much alive. That's more than can be said for old Grelod, hmm?" She laughed a small, satisfactory laugh.

"You know about that?"

"Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around. Oh, but don't misunderstand. I'm not criticizing. It was a good kill. Old crone had it coming, and you saved a group of urchins, to boot... but there is a slight... problem."

"A problem?" I had already done their dirty work, what could possibly be the problem? If it was money, that's a joke. I only made 100 septims off that heirloom. That I can easily repay.

"You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me, and my assassins. Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill that you stole," her shroud crinkled with the insinuation of an oncoming smile. "A kill that you must repay." So, this was it. They were going to kill me after meddling in their business to keep their hands clean on the Grelod case. I was beginning to wish that I had just taken that little joker's money, or turned him into the Whiterun guards...

"Would you like me to murder someone else?" I asked in what was either a sad attempt to intimidate or pursuade her. These were trained assassins. I may have been the Dragonborn's apprentice, but I was no match for someone as skilled as this. Besides the obvious skill difference, I didn't even have my weapon. I was doomed.

"Well now, funny you should ask," she said as if this was her plan all along. "If you'll turn around, you'll notice my guests," I spun on my heel. Three victims, all bound and blindfolded. I had been so preoccupied that I didn't even hear their cries for help. "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 and see if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make your kill. I just want to observe... and admire."

"Alright, I'll do it," I balled my hands at my sides. I knew it was selfish, but I had to save myself. "I'll kill one of them."

"See, I knew we could resolve this civilly. A debt owed must be repaid. You understand that. Well, get to it then." She tossed a dagger in my direction. I just barely caught it without slicing off a finger. "Pick your guest and send the poor fool to the Void. I'll give you the key to this shack and you'll be on your way."