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Unholy Needs	By : vivalavioletta Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Oblivion Views: 6928 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls: IV Oblivion, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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The rain poured down the mountains. The Dunmer was only wearing a dark blue shirt made of linen, leather pants and leather shoes. At least her feet and legs were dry, not that it mattered much anyway. The almost forgotten pains from Kvatch had suddenly return with Vodus’ unwanted advances. To the elf walking was painful, running was painful, breathing was painful - all kinds of movements were painful, yet, it was bearable for now. The Blade of Woe was still tied in her belt and it would soon kill Rufio. If the elf was lucky enough, she would be able to make it to Wawnet Inn that night. The elf did not want to stop in Skingard, Chorrol or in the Imperial City for she was scared to be recognized by people that she met in her formal life - the formal talks would delay her and she honestly didn’t have much patience for them at the moment.
At the time the only thing that kept her going was the possibility of a whole different life. Thindril had been playing the same old tricks for too long, and honestly she was getting bored of it. That was also one of the reasons why she murdered her last husband – boredom had entrenched their lives and Thindril was not a woman who liked routine. Of course that his affair with the neighbor also helped, Thindril was planning to kill his lover in the next month but the Deadra took care of it. They could sometimes be charming creatures.
The rain was not heavy but it had already drenched her long red hair. The few travelers that walked past her gave a weird look – all those people carried hoods, cloaks and gloves while Thindril was wearing summer clothes. It had bothered her at first, but now she was used to the cold. The worst thing was that the weather was slowing her down – Thindril had been walking since dawn. The farm where she lived was in the road between Kvatch and Skingard and Thindril barely knew if she was going to make it to the Imperial City that night.
Thindril was lucky to walk past a merchant that morning and buy him some food with Sharlian’s money. Only the fruit that she bought him and her determination helped her keep going. Thindril had heard rumors of more Oblivion gates opening around Cyrodiil, so she stayed in the roads. As if the wilderness was already dangerous enough without the Deadra lurking around.
It was already dark when she finally reached the Wawnet Inn. An Altmer, Nerussa, was the owner of that inn for quite a few years now. She asked the Dunmer if she wanted wine everytime that Thindril walked into that inn, this time she also remarked that Thindril’s clothes were wet, but she ignored it. Thindril only wanted a bit of stew, a warm fire and then a warm bed.
Her exhaustion and poor health made her sleep more than ten hours. She had a surprisingly calm and dreamless night, but was suddenly waken up by the terrible aches that attacked her body. Her basic skills of Restoration would calm the pain down, but Thindril knew that she wouldn’t go far without a proper healing. It would be a matter of time for her body to start collapsing, not to mention the scars all over her body that would mark her forever.
Nerussa had sweetrolls and more fruit for sale, Thindril soon stashed her pockets and the small sack she always carried with her with food. The Dunmer was happy to find that unlike the day before the sky had now cleared. It was sunny and warmer; her clothes were also drier, but still humid. Nonetheless, Thindril was happy that the day that was about to unfold would probably went better. There were even birds singing outside and thanks to the rain, the fields seemed fresher and greener than ever – a perfect day for a murder.
The Dunmer went south, taking one of the main roads that headed to Bravil. Despite the fact that her whole body ached, Thindril found herself with a little more energy than the day before – maybe she was just urging to be in control again or maybe she just wanted to see Lucien Lachance and hear him tell her that she was about to belong to a new family. Her hope was giving her strength for now and that was all that mattered.
-T-
He was there in the day when she set fire to the house. The Dark Brotherhood was a powerful organization, therefore its members knew what was going to happen before it did. Lucien knew that his latest recruit would burn down the house of the woman who took her so kindly, yet, he didn’t know the reasons. Lucien would ask her in due time.
He had not followed in her way to the Inn of Ill Omen, no, the Dunmer wouldn’t need his watchful eyes in her trip. Lucien had wondered though, what took her so long and why she looked like she was in constant pain. He and all the Cheydinhall sanctuary were very glad that they would have a new sister, especially after the disturbing events of a murderer amongst murderers. Ocheeva, the sanctuary’s mistress, also said that a new face would be a breath of fresh air. New recruits always helped to keep the brotherhood young.
A day and a half after the fire, Lucien travelled to the Inn of Ill Omen, watching Thindril come closer and closer to fulfill her destiny. He could feel that her true place was with the people in the sanctuary and not wandering around Tamriel like she had been doing for years. The Speaker put on his chameleon ring and shoes before walking into the Inn, remaining unseen as expected. Lucien arrived first than Thindril who only walked in when the Inn closed; she apparently preferred a stealthy approach to the job. Lucien was one of same type as well – the type who is able to hide in the shadows and kill in the dark like he was never there, yet it was wildly known the Speaker could also stage a public execution if necessary.
Around one o’clock in the morning the Dunmer walked into the inn and went firstly upstairs. She was incredibly silent in her moves, but Lucien was also aware that her light clothing and leather shoes helped her to sneak around. He saw her casting a spell that later he presumed that maybe it was a detect life spell for the elf seemed to know the occupied rooms. Unfortunately none of the sleeping guests were Rufio, making Thindril go downstairs again. She looked around as she was looking for an extra door that would eventually lead her to her prey. The Dunmer soon found a hatch that leaded to the basement and decided to give it a try, if Rufio was hiding from someone, it made sense for him to sleep in the darkest rooms in the Inn.
Lucien continued to follow the elf, he had now the chance of standing closer to her for the corridor was larger than the others and noticed something different in her look. A certain instability could be seen in her red eyes, Lucien had obviously noticed that something had changed since she burned down the farm and his curiosity grew on him. He also wondered if whatever happened to the elf had affected her too much.
It didn’t take her long to be in her prey’s room. Surprisingly enough, Thindril woke Rufio up. She had the perfect chance to send him to the Void without the old man proffering a word, yet she had chosen not to. Lucien wondered why. “Who are you? What do you want? I ain’t done nothin’!” The man inquired, Thindril just gave him a small sneer.
“Oh, but you have, Rufio…” She drawled while tightening her grip around the Blade of Woe.
“No! Please…! I didn’t mean to do it, y… you understand me?” He stammered. “She struggled! I… I told her to stay still, but she wouldn’t listen! I had no choice!” Thindril’s expression had sudden taken by her wrath and disgust towards that man. Rufio tried to flee, but she soon pushed into the wall, cornering him like a wild beast. Her first stab was in his shoulder, the old man cried in pain before she hit his stomach with her knife, making him fall on his knees. Her last stab happened after she kicked him to the floor, the Blade of Woe pierced his groin, making Rufio squirm and gasp with the pain. Luckily for her, he had no longer the strength to scream. It took him less than a minute to die. Thindril watched the life leave his eyes and seemed to be enjoying every minute of it, yet she wasn’t smiling. The only expression that she carried was her stiff and focused gaze on the man. Once he was dead, she cleaned her dagger with Rufio’s old sheets before leaving.
Lucien watched the show and was without a doubt surprised by her reaction. He knew one more thing about his newest sister – she had been raped, he didn’t know when or who raped her but Thindril was still clearly affected by it. The Speaker would bear that in mind in the next time he would talk to her, which would be soon.
-T-
The Faregyl Inn was located north of the Inn of Ill Omen, both inns were quite close to each other and were in the same road, except that the Faregyl Inn was a much nicer place with proper beds, good food, and apparently no rapists. Since Thindril didn’t know if Lucien would send her next to the north or south, she decided to stay in the same location. Without spending much time in the reception area, Thindril rented a room and headed upstairs to get some rest. She only had twenty septims left and hoped that it would be enough until Lucien came to visit her again, because if not, the Dunmer would soon live on the streets.
Her body wasn’t aching that much, she wondered if the rush of adrenaline had helped her, or maybe the sweet scent of murder took her to another reality – a reality where she was now the one in control of the rapist’s life. Her red eyes examined again the Blade of Woe, its blade was sharp and its hilt was beautifully decorated with golden cravings that also adorned the blade. It was her most precious value now for the elf had lost everything in Kvatch – her books, her gems, her collection items and last but not least, her home.
Thindril put the blade on table next to the bed, founding herself to be taken by a sudden sleepiness. Her eyelids closed and it only took her seconds to fall into a, effortless deep sleep.
“Sleep, sister, sleep.” A deep and calm voice told her. There was a hint of familiarity in that sound that made Thindril do as he asked. Yes, she would sleep. For now.
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Unholy Needs