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The Last Days of Lucien Lachance	By : pirouette Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Oblivion Views: 3475 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I neither own nor am affiliated with Bethesda/TES: Oblivion. I'm also not making any money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter Four: Broken Vows

A/N: I really can't thank Lennanightrun enough. This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, as it and Chapter Five were initially the same thing, so there were a lot of pacing issues to sort through. But it is all fixed now, so enjoy, and remember, Chapter Five was posted with this one, so this story can now be considered complete. If you've gotten this far, I'd also like to thank you for reading! :)

It was surprisingly easy for the two of us to settle into a routine. I refused to send her out on any contracts initially, which gave us an entire month to do nothing but get to know one another. I started watching her sleep again, but invariably would end up just crawling in bed beside her and wrapping her in my arms. At first I was worried that she would continue to have nightmares, but she always slept quite well when I was present. And when she was in bed with me, her warmth was guaranteed to keep me under until she rose to begin her day. I began sleeping through thunderstorms for the first time in my life during that month. I always used to be jolted awake by the sound of the lightning and the rain. In fact, I always used to be jolted awake by any noise at all.

She started arriving at Fort Farragut unasked, letting herself quietly down the trap door and spending the day doing nothing more interesting than mixing poisons with me. We never saw each other in public or in the open for fear that someone would notice, but within the confines of my rooms or her house we could be as open as we wished. I used to wonder if she were actually happy, but the fact that I didn't see her so much as look at a wine bottle in that span of time indicates to me now that she was. I think I was, too. I neither had any assassins to command nor a desire to recruit more, and that spoke volumes. I still made my rounds and checked my own drop sites, slipping out to take care of contracts at odd hours, but I knew even as I was doing it that I couldn't promote her to Silencer and then not send her out on a single job. Soon, a message from Ungolim appeared:

Speaker-

Take a break. Here's one that is perfectly suited for your little hero.

I shredded the letter and threw it into a brook the day I received it, which did nothing more than make me feel juvenile and vindictive. At the time I refused to believe that I was the only person in the guild who had dreamt of killing that man. Now that he's dead, I know that I was right. I am sure Caleigh was ordered to end his life because the traitor received one obnoxious letter too many. When I saw her take Ungolim in the middle of Bravil I felt as though my entire world were crashing down, but I think if it had been anyone else wielding the bow I would have been overcome by a perverse sense of satisfaction.

I knew the letter was a subtle warning to put her to work before the rest of the Hand took interest in the reason behind her inactivity. I also knew that it was unfair to her to keep her from completing contracts for the guild. But now that I had admitted to myself that I cared about her I was terrified something would go badly and she would be taken from me. A foolish worry--if Caleigh had survived Oblivion, she could survive any contract we received. But my emotions toward her had never been what I would call rational, and I'd be lying if I said my hand wasn't shaking as I wrote out instructions to her and left them in her first dead drop. A necromancer, I told myself. Only a necromancer. Only a lich king in the making.

The next day I checked the drop to see if she'd been by. She had, and I experienced a swell of pride at her punctuality. Caleigh must have been checking it every day. There was a note for me in it, as well. One word, written in a surprisingly fine hand. I kept forgetting she was once a Bard:

Finally.

I had to smile despite myself. It really had been unfair of me to keep her to myself and leave her with nothing to do for a month. No wonder she had been more aggressive in bed than usual. Then again, if it had bothered her that much, she could have broken her little rule and asked me about it herself. I put her payment in the drop I'd specified in the letter and tried to make myself get used to the thought of sending her out to do the will of the Night Mother. I had to remind myself multiple times that day that she was not actually mine, no matter how much I wished that were true--she belonged to Sithis. To the guild.

She disappeared from town that day, leaving no note for me in her home. I am sure she assumed I'd know where she was going. After all, I had sent her there myself, but I still felt a strange sense of panic. I thought about staying in her house until her return, but it felt too confined, so I resigned myself to pacing the floors of Fort Farragut in her absence. I assumed she would come see me directly upon completing the contract. In retrospect, that seems foolish. I never told her to, and she certainly wouldn't have expected that I'd be worried.

By the second night I could stand it no longer--I practically fled to her house, convinced I would find it empty. The money would still be in the dead drop. The necromancer had gotten the best of her.

There isn't an eloquent enough way for me to express the sheer range of my emotions when I found her, completely unharmed and asleep on her bed as if she hadn't just put me through such torment. She was curled on her side with her hands beside her face, looking so relaxed, so peaceful.

How dare she?

I sprang upon her in her sleep, striking at her in a silent fury. She awoke in an instant and moved her hands to protect her face, but her reflexes were burdened by sleep and mine had an edge of adrenaline. I didn't stop when she cried. I didn't stop when she begged. I only came to my senses when she flung her arms around me and pressed her face to my shoulder. I was about to yank her by the hair to pull her away from me when I felt liquid, bone-chillingly warm, seeping into the cloth of my shirt. I looked at my hands, then, and found the knuckles coated in blood. Instantly, I was filled with revulsion.

"Why?" she gasped at last, pulling away from me and moving to a nearby chest to find a healing potion. I fell back against her bed and looked dully at the ceiling.

"I thought you'd come to me when you were back."

"I was tired," she replied, downing the contents of a bottle. Another. Only after a third could I glance at her without hating myself.

"I thought you were dead."

"Funny way to show you were worried," she muttered, wiping at her face sullenly with a tattered shirt from her bureau.

I sat up so I could see her better. "I'm not used to worrying about people."

"Clearly." She moved to the bed and began to wipe at my knuckles, cleaning her blood off them with a look of incredible concentration. The shirt went in the downstairs fireplace when she was finished, and soon it was as though I'd never snapped. Only the drying blood at the shoulder of my shirt was left to serve as a reminder.

"I'll come see you next time," she murmured. "Right when I get back."

"It occurs to me that I should be apologizing."

She didn't respond, but she did pull me to her. We fell back against the bed together and she closed her eyes, seemingly on her way back to sleep. Just when I thought she had lost consciousness, she spoke.

"That's the only time you get to do that to me."

"All right," I whispered, kissing the back of her head, though I knew it was impossible to actually make any sort of promise.

She went on another contract three days later, and this time did as she said, returning to me smelling of sweat and horse and blood. We were at each other for hours that night. After that, things between us returned to normal.

A week later Arquen arrived in town, which I only discovered when she essentially ambushed me at the Newlands Lodge. She must have been waiting for me for some time--her eyes had a cranky cast to them which did not bode well for me.

"I'd forgotten what you looked like without a hood," she murmured over her glass of wine, giving me an appraising stare I didn't entirely like.

"Likewise." Her long blonde hair was loose around her shoulders instead of up in its customary twist. The dress she had on, while plain, was still more becoming on her than her robes, which tended to make her look rather androgynous. As the only female Speaker, that likely worked in her favor.

She told me to sit with her, and so I obliged. Whatever it was must be important, otherwise she wouldn't have risked me seeing her uncloaked. I hadn't seen her without a cowl in at least a decade. She hadn't changed a bit. I thought about telling her so, but knew she wouldn't be able to say the same in return.

"You're a hard man to find," she said at last. "You're never at your Sanctuary, and your Silencer took one look at me and quite literally vaulted the city wall."

"Did she," I murmured noncommitally.

"Have you told her who I am?"

"Of course not. I am not an idiot."

"I must be losing my edge, then." She frowned into her glass.

"Trust me, she makes everyone feel that way. Now, what do you require of me?"

She sighed and set her goblet down. "I hate to ask you this, Lucien. But since your Sanctuary is currently nonexistant, and mine is currently, well, overfull...." Her voice dropped. "I think the traitor is still among us. A Sister, Maria, disappeared from Anvil three days ago. One of mine." Her voice had a tinge of melancholy to it.

I shook my head in disappointment. "So Ocheeva and the others died for nothing after all."

"Well, if anything, they've given us a cover. Hopefully the traitor will continue to believe we think him or her dead," she replied.

She paused for a moment to take another sip of wine. "I'd like you to come to Anvil with me under the guise of helping me train my new recruits."

"Why would I ever do that?" I took care to keep my voice flat.

"Boredom. You can't tell me you're not bored, Lucien."

She was right: I couldn't tell her that. "You have a point."

"So come back with me. Together, I believe you and I will be able to find this traitor once and for all."

There was no way out of it, so I simply nodded. "I'll be there as soon as I can delegate a contract to my Silencer and steal a horse."

Arquen blinked at me in surprise. "What happened to Shadowmere?"

"I'm letting Caleigh use her." As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn't have.

"I see." She drained her glass smoothly. "Well, don't take too long. The way things are going, I'll be next!" She laughed merrily, but I scowled at her and grabbed her by the hand.

"Don't ever say that."

She looked at me soberly for a moment, then patted me on the shoulder. "It's a coping mechanism, nothing more." And with that she took her leave.

I waited around long enough to finish my beer, taking my time and looking for indications that Arquen intended to follow me in secret. There was no sign of her as I paid for my glass, so I assumed it was safe to go and find Caleigh. My instincts told me she'd taken one look at Arquen, surmised who she was somehow, and gone to warn me back at the Fort. I made it to the trap door leading to my rooms before she landed in a low crouch beside me from where she'd been lurking in the tree above. She was in pants, soft boots, and a loose white shirt that day, looking the plainest and most beautiful I had seen her since the first time I'd spied her in Cheydinhal.

"She stopped following you at the edge of the trees," Caleigh murmured in greeting, slinging her bow back across her shoulders.

"How do you know she was following me at all?"

She shrugged and rose to stand beside me. The motion made me miss watching her work. "She relies too much on being invisible and not enough on sneaking."

We entered Fort Farragut together before I asked the important question. "How did you know who she was?"

"Should I?" She frowned. "I just saw her leaving our Sanctuary and figured you'd want to know."

"Good girl." I picked a leaf out of her hair, and she smiled at me.

"Who is she?"

I sighed and moved to my alchemy table, sorting through the poisons I had on hand. "A guild member."

"Ah." And like that, her questions ceased. She was unsettlingly good at keeping her own rule. It was unfortunate that for time's sake I would have to break it myself. It was likely Arquen would keep me away for some time. A letter in a dead drop, which would have been adequate for any other Silencer, was too impersonal a way to tell Caleigh I had to go. I turned to face her reluctantly.

"I have to leave for Anvil."

She took a step closer. "When?"

"Now. I have enough time to collect some things and get to your dead drop."

"How long will you be gone?"

I shook my head. "I have no idea."

She stood before me with serious eyes. "Lucien, what's going on?"

"Nothing. She needs my expertise."

Her face was troubled, but she didn't press further. Now, I wish she had. I should have told her the traitor was still alive. Then, maybe, she would have kept on her guard. But I didn't want her to feel guilty for needlessly killing her brethren. I find it more than slightly ironic that neither of us would be in as much danger now if I hadn't cared so much for her then. But I wanted to protect her, and so I denied her information I would have given any other guild member.

"I don't want you to go," she stated quietly.

I sighed. "I don't want to leave. But if I stay, they'll get suspicious."

"And I can't write or stop by, can I."

It wasn't a question, so I didn't respond. There would be nothing wrong with her stopping by if circumstances were normal. But if the traitor were in Anvil, I didn't want her being seen with me. There was still a chance that no one who was not a Speaker knew who she was. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have told her this as well. Instead, I began to gather my things. She watched me prepare for my journey in a sullen silence that I had no idea how to break.

I was undressing to get into my robes when I felt her lips on the bare skin of my back. Soon, her tongue was snaking tiny little trails along my shoulders, and my nerves were clamoring happily at the distraction. But now was not the time.

"No," I growled, stepping away from her.

She stamped her foot. "You're leaving!"

"Yes, and as you may recall, I need to leave quickly."

She pressed herself against me, and I felt my eyes drifting shut at her warmth. "Stop talking now and you may not even be late."

"I said no!" I shoved her away from me, but as luck would have it she landed against the bed. I thought she might glare, but instead she untied her shirt at the neck and slid the shoulder of it down to bare a large swath of skin. The sight made me want to press my face into her neck and inhale deeply.

"Have you always been this manipulative?"

She smiled up at me and bared her other shoulder. "No."

I have to admit, that retort made me proud of her. The neckline of her shirt rested gently over the tops of her breasts, only partially obscuring her cleavage. It was then I noticed her pants were a pair of those insidious leggings the Bosmeri and Khajiti like, the ones that protect the limbs but leave little more than a flap of hide to cover the essentials. I've been told they're for mobility, and after seeing the way Caleigh moved in them earlier I could believe it. But it was the pale swaths of skin on either side of the fur, the visible ridge of her inner hip, and the thought of how easy it would be to bed her in those that really held my attention. Her gowns were always too voluminous and needed to be removed before we could do anything worthwhile. With those pants--I wouldn't even need to pull them down.

"I'm going to regret this," I hissed, advancing on her.

"I doubt it."

Nothing else she could have said would have made me want her more. I was torn between resenting her on principle and enjoying this new side of her. After a moment's debate, I decided Arquen wouldn't care if I allowed myself to be delayed somewhat. I seized her shirt by the neck and tore it down the middle, smacking her across the face when she tried to protest. As soon as her skin was bared I began to nip and bite at her neck and shoulders, letting my teeth linger longer and sink a bit deeper each time they came in contact with her skin. Within minutes bruises were appearing, but her head was tossed back, her eyes shut. Groaning in pleasure. A month ago she would have been crying. I bit her on the shoulder hard enough to draw blood just as my hands slid between her legs. She'd never been so wet.

I grabbed her by the hair and hauled her over so that her stomach was against the bed, knees to the floor. This was a position she was quite familiar with by now. She tried to look at me over her shoulder, but I kept her pinned by the hair as I lifted the back flap of her leggings to expose the smooth, bare skin beneath. My hand wound back and I hit her so hard my fingers tingled and went numb. She groaned and clutched at the bedclothes.

"That was mean," she purred, turning to look at me.

"I told you not to distract me," I retorted, preparing for another hit. She groaned even louder as the smack of my hand against her flesh reverberated through the room. I leaned forward to run my tongue along her neck, and she arched into me suggestively, feeling warm and soft. The feel of her naked skin against mine is a sensation the memory of, even now, arouses me. An inconvenient fact for one on horseback.

I think she expected me to take her over the bed. It had proven to be one of our favorite positions, but I wanted to try something new that night. Something memorable. I wanted to guarantee that while I was gone, she thought of me and only me. I grabbed her by the hair again and hauled us both to our feet. She turned, lips pressing against mine needily, tongue seeking my own, and we stumbled together until I had her pressed against the pillar in the center of the room. She hit the stone with a soft gasp and wrapped her hands around my waist as my tongue ran along the length of her ear. The sounds she was making were lovely, but I wanted her to be louder. I dropped to my knees before her and buried my head between her legs, licking and working at her with my tongue, allowing the sounds she made to guide my actions. I began by nipping at her inner thighs, working my way upward with excruciating slowness. My tongue slid langorously along her skin, tasting slowly, waiting for her voice to develop the frustrated edge I so craved. My hand slid to her backside and began to knead gently at her skin, shoving her forward into my tongue slightly, but never enough for me to reach the patch she was single-mindedly focused on.

Eventually she gave a frustrated sigh and grabbed me by the hair, guiding my mouth to exactly where she wanted. I obliged, tasting her happily, listening to her pant and groan. My tongue flicked at her most sensitive spot gently at first, then with more force as I heard and felt her pleasure build. Her legs were shaking when my fingertips danced against the curve of her hips, across her stomach, along her inner thigh, but she held herself steady on her feet as I continued. She was so wet, so ready for me, that I almost took her then, but I forced myself to wait. She may have seduced me into this, but that didn't mean I wanted it to be easy. I ran my fingers against her, using her wetness to my benefit, but didn't actually enter her until she gazed down at me and gave a whimper of desperation. She was relieved, at first, until she realized that I had no intention of allowing her to climax. Rather, I was teasing her with my fingers and my tongue. It was beautifully effective--eventually, her knees grew weak, and she grabbed at my shoulders for support. I stood and helped hold her steady.

"I want you," she gasped, dropping her hands to my trousers. She unfastened them deftly, and soon her fingers were making me weak-kneed in turn. I grabbed her at the waist and lifted her off the ground. She seemed surprised for only an instant, then wrapped her legs around me and reached up to grab the lowest part of the grating that held the flickering torch above us. I thrust into her just as she pushed against me, and we both sighed in relief as we were united.

She had more mobility than I did, since I was the one providing us both the stability we needed to maintain the pose. Her back arched, and she began to ride me, gazing at me with hazy, half-open eyes. The muscles in her arms and shoulders were tense from the weight she was supporting with them, and her hair was practically glowing under the directness of the firelight. I watched her face raptly, enjoying how her expressions changed as she had her way with me. Whenever she hit a particularly sensitive spot she'd bite at her lip and toss her head back. If my tongue were playing against her skin, her mouth would be open, eyes-half-lidded, groaning. I took one of her nipples into my mouth and flicked it gently as she ground against me.

Her cries became distinctly louder, and I felt one of her legs slip.

"I'm--I'm going to--" she gasped. "Lucien, please!"

Her nails were digging into my skin, and I knew that later I'd have angry red crescents dotting my shoulders. She let go of the torchframe as I lifted her off of me, carrying her to the bed with protesting arms. She hit the mattress on her stomach and braced her knees against the cold stone of the floor.

"Please," she repeated, voice hoarse with need. I thrust back into her obligingly and set as fast a pace as I could manage. It was difficult--her legs were pressed together, and she felt almost unbearably tight around me. It didn't help that she was looking over her shoulder at me, watching me as I thrust into her. I gave her an affectionate smack to the backside, and she dropped her head to the bed and practically purred. It didn't take long until I was out of breath, but I didn't want to slow down. Judging by how difficult a time she was having keeping herself up off the bed, she was moments from climax. I wasn't wrong. Seconds later she let out a single loud groan and collapsed onto the bed entirely, riding out the full force of her orgasm. To my surprise, I found that I wasn't far behind her. We ended up tangled together, half-on the bed, half-off, panting happily. I could already tell that I would be in a much better mood to ride to Anvil.

Eventually, I managed to slide off of her and onto the floor, seeking the relief of cold stone against my heated skin. She pulled herself completely onto the bed and closed her eyes. I rummaged through my storage as she recovered from our tryst and found a spare shirt for her to replace the one now lying in shreds on the floor. By the time her eyes had opened again, I was in my robes and at the trap door. She looked up at me forlornly and I felt like I should say something, but no words came.

"What am I going to do without you?" she asked me at last.

"Check your dead drop," I replied, and strode over to receive one last kiss before my exile. But the question plagued me for weeks in Anvil, and it plagues me now, even as I am running for my life. If I die tonight, what will she do? I am skeptical of her ability to take care of herself, especially after what I just witnessed between her and Ungolim in Bravil. She needs someone to follow, for better or for worse. I thought then that the contract I had for her would be enough, since it would take some time to complete--as clever as she was, she would require more than a single day to hunt down and kill an entire clan. I hoped that would keep her busy enough while I was gone. The last thing I wanted was for her to be worried--or worse, bored. It never occurred to me to worry about what would happen if she were to become lonely.

Anvil was just as intolerable as I expected. Arquen tested me my very first week there by trying to seduce me. I knew that if I refused her it would raise suspicions about my attachment to Caleigh, so I allowed her to bed me, though the encounter lacked the fire I had grown used to. Arquen was too full at the hip and the breast, and taller than I desired. Her hair was too long, her voice too soft, and her nails didn't rake into my back a single time. I must have fallen short of her standards, as well, because she didn't attempt to repeat the encounter in the intervening weeks. Or maybe I bit her a little too hard. Either way, it didn't much matter to me--she wasn't my Silencer, and as a result had no hope of holding my interest.

I discovered my feelings for Caleigh were even more severe than I'd realized after experiencing just how much worse the distance between us made me want her by my side. I battled with myself daily. I wanted to ride back and see her, leave her a note, anything. But Arquen kept me absurdly busy with Sanctuary duties, and we had made no headway on determining the true identity of the traitor. Also, I was beginning to feel as though the traitor's actions were being planned to inconvenience me, specifically. When I told this to Arquen, she laughed and called me paranoid, but I was unable to shake the feeling. Losing another Silencer would be an excellent way to get at me again. Losing my Silencer and my lover? No. I couldn't see her. I kept my focus on the guild and resigned myself to waiting.

The trainees were just as tedious as I had feared. One of them managed to stab another through the hand while practicing their daggerwork my first week there, thus ruining her career forever. Two weeks after that, another got drunk and accidentally sliced his face open while attempting knife tricks, ensuring he would never be able to blend into a crowd again. The only two I sent out on contracts never returned, and were found dead a few days later. The consensus on that debacle was that it was my fault, though I strongly disagreed. Afterward, Arquen scolded me angrily for their deaths and informed me I wasn't allowed to assign tasks for recruits anymore.

"Pick a job that suits their abilities!" she'd hissed, cheeks flushed in anger.

"Forgive me, Arquen, but we rarely accept contracts to terminate livestock!" I retorted, turning to storm out of the Sanctuary. I spent the rest of the night in the main room of the tavern I was staying in, drinking wine and feeling more than slightly foolish. I wondered if my desire to see Caleigh was making me perform my duties sloppily. Perhaps it wasn't their incompetence, after all, but my own. If she had been with me, I would have dragged her upstairs and kept at her until her voice was hoarse in the hopes that in the morning I would be myself again. But she was not with me. So I drank, and in the morning was not myself at all.

Arquen found me as I was lurking in the main room, nursing my hangover, and sat beside me to have breakfast. Seeking me out was her way of apologizing for the conversation we'd had the previous night, but her presence did nothing to improve my mood. It was odd seeing an elf eat fruit and vegetables after spending so much time around Caleigh--though I knew she was an Altmer, I still half-expected Arquen to order the venison and then surreptitiously sneak all her grapes onto my plate.

"Lucien, what has your Silencer been up to with you gone? You haven't had time to leave more contracts for her, have you?"

I shook my aching head. "No, I have her on an extended contract. She's terminating an entire family while I'm away."

"Hmmmm," she responded, downing her glass of water. If I had been thinking, I would have realized how that must have sounded to her.

I picked half-heartedly at the meal before me and enjoyed the silence. A few minutes later, she shoved her plate away and spoke again.

"Aren't you worried about her?"

"She can take care of herself. And if she does die, she was obviously of no further use to the Night Mother."

"And if the traitor kills her...?" She looked at me levelly.

"What do you know, Arquen?" I expected her to accuse me of having an attachment to her, but her response was far more unsettling.

"J'Ghasta is dead."

I stared at her, aghast. "A Speaker? How could the traitor know who we are?"

"Exactly my question. Regardless, I think it's clear that we're running out of time. Be on your guard." With that, she rose and left me to finish my breakfast alone. Were my mind not numbed by alcohol and my thoughts not fixated on Caleigh, I would have realized Arquen was suspicious of me, and had been from the beginning. She didn't call me to Anvil for aid--she called me that she might keep a better eye on me. And maybe if I had known about it then I would have been able to deal with the situation in time. Chosen my words more carefully. Stopped this all in time. And if I had brought Caleigh with me, I would have seemed more myself, and her suspicions might have been avoided entirely.

Every decision I've made since meeting her has been wrong. That much has been made painfully clear. There are myriad ifs and maybes running through my head right now as a result, but looking back is completely useless to me now. All that matters is Caleigh's mission and my ability to evade the surviving members of the Hand until she returns to me with proof of our innocence. But my hindsight won't stop twisting the knife.

Three days after our conversation in the inn we received word that another of ours had been killed. I had never known Shaleez personally, but she was well-regarded as a skilled assassin, and the news of her death still sent chills through me. She had also been being groomed as Ungolim's successor. At this rate the guild would be completely eliminated, and Arquen and I could still find no sign of the traitor. Or so I thought at the time.

"Lucien, may I have a moment?" she asked a week after we had first received the news, cornering me in the main room of her Sanctuary while I was enjoying a book and pretending not to notice a small cluster of recruits staring at me in fascination. Perhaps none of them could read. She settled herself on the bench across from me, stared at me for a moment, and then sighed heavily. I took that as a sign to set the book aside.

"There's something I didn't tell you about Shaleez's death because I wanted to verify it myself first."

I waited for her to continue. After a minute, she did, although somewhat nervously.

"Your Silencer was seen in the area shortly before the murder."

I blinked. "Caleigh? What could she have been doing over there?"

"I think she killed Shaleez, Lucien."

Seconds stretched between us as I tried to grasp what she had just said to me. I couldn't accept it, not at first. "What!"

"She was also in the area when J'Ghasta died."

My hands were shaking uncontrollably, but I kept my voice steady. "Tell me what you're trying to say, Arquen."

"Your Silencer is working for the traitor."

"Do you think I'm that traitor?"

"I honestly don't know." She refused to meet my eyes.

"Arquen, I'm not, I--by Sithis! I trusted her!" I rose in a fury and hurled a vase against the wall, utterly terrifying the nearby recruits. "No, no, no!" A goblet joined the vase, and I was surprised to find my vision blurred by tears. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried. I blinked them away angrily and turned to face Arquen, daring her to say a word. She laughed despite herself.

"You don't trust anyone. It's part of your charm! What made her so different?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I kicked at the bookshelf, scattering copies of The Five Tenets along the floor. The main room was emptying rapidly. I had been stupid to trust that girl. She knew my home, my face, everything. I'd slept beside her night after night, and she'd been--what, using me for information? I wasn't sure. But I was going to find out. I remembered her last question to me and hated myself for being foolish enough to actually worry about her. The bookshelf received one last kick before I collapsed back onto the bench, feeling utterly drained.

Arquen watched me for a moment, then made a noise of understanding. "Ah. Well, that explains why you seem so uninterested in me." She leaned and put her hand on my arm. "We need to deal with this, and fast, before someone else dies."

"I know," I muttered, wiping at my face and feeling like a small boy.

"Do you want me to...?" she began, but I cut her off.

"No." Sending Arquen after Caleigh would end in the death of the wrong elf. "I'll deal with her myself."

"I'll let you go after her, then. But Lucien..."

"What."

"If you don't stop her, I'm going to have to assume she's acting on your orders."

"Do what you have to!" I snapped, gathering up my things. "But do me a favor for now and leave me to clean up my own messes!"

She didn't respond, and I let myself out more loudly than I should have, gasping in relief as the cool air of Anvil's night hit my face. I needed a horse, and I needed to find Caleigh. And when I did, she would finally realize I had never truly made her know pain.
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The Last Days of Lucien Lachance