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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
- 4
- 5
Chapter Five: A Kiss Before Dying

One small snippet of a conversation she and I had long ago kept running incessantly through my mind over the course of the next few days. As I look back on it, the dining area of her Cheydinhal house seems to be bathed in an unearthly light. She, pressed against me tightly, wondering if she should abandon the city entirely. I, foolishly telling her I'd find her no matter where she went and hating the way she laughed and gently told me I was wrong. I was wrong, in fact, and that is why the conversation was stuck in my head. Was she mocking me? Warning me? Or were we simply enjoying a moment together in peace? I had no idea when she had turned against me. It almost drove me mad.

She was too good a forester and a horsewoman for me to catch her outdoors, especially now that she had Shadowmere. And I couldn't guard every member of the Hand at once. I was a full day behind her when she took out Alval Uvani, Arquen's Silencer. According to rumor he was dead before he even knew he was in danger. J'Ghasta's Silencer, Havilstein Hoar-Blood, was next. I was a half day behind her by then, but it didn't take me long to realize the remaining Speakers and their Silencers were a day behind me. My time had run out, and Arquen had told Mathieu and the newly promoted that I had defected. I couldn't blame her--I would have done the same. And the situation could still be salvaged, after all. Arquen would listen to me as soon as I killed Caleigh, and we would at last find the traitor so intent on ruining our lives. The few hours I allowed myself to sleep were full of visions of my dagger plunging into her gorgeous body over and over again until I was sated. The ground would be sticky with her blood, and the air would reek of iron long after she had stopped whimpering in pain. I'd lost so much because of her. I wanted her to know exactly how I felt.

At least I knew where she'd go next after Hoar-Blood died. With the other ranking members of the guild now after me, that left Ungolim, stoically remaining behind in Bravil to see to the Night Mother's requests. I turned my horse there and rode hard through the night, doing everything I could think of to gain back ground.

It worked, to a point. I burst into the city at dusk just in time to witness her climbing a set of stairs near the Lucky Old Lady, bow nocked and ready to fire. Ungolim was another Bosmer, and so she needed no warning that he was a deadly shot. Her arrow was meant to incapacitate his shoulder so he couldn't use his bow, but she missed and nicked his ribs instead. He rounded on her with disconcertingly quick reflexes and fired off a shot, which she dodged by tumbling off the stairs and landing in the dirt with a finesse I found alluring despite myself. There she was, killing my Guild Master, and I could only stand and watch, transfixed by how beautifully she moved. But if I revealed myself to stab her, Ungolim would likely round on me and fill me with arrows before the situation were resolved. I needed to speak to Arquen. She was the better listener.

Caleigh fell into a crouch and advanced on him carefully, ready to dodge at any instant. He fired off another arrow, and she rolled forward to avoid it, nocking and firing her own as soon as she regained her feet. This one hit him in the leg, and he faltered, crying out in pain. He stumbled backward, seemed to lose his balance. She dropped her guard and moved in for the kill, certain it was over. Ungolim was waiting for that moment and brought his bow up, firing a shot into her so powerfully it knocked her back and left her stunned upon the ground. He lined himself up for the killing shot, but she threw herself at him with a pained shriek, blade drawn, dripping blood from a wound in her lower stomach. The arrow snapped off as she contacted him, and soon Ungolim's blood was mingling with hers on the ground. He died silently, collapsed in a heap at the feet of The Lady. Caleigh stumbled, and only when she fell to her knees did I fully realize what I had just allowed to happen through my inaction.

"No!" I shouted, casting aside all concealment and approaching her while my adrenaline still made it likely I could do what I needed to in order to finish this. "No, no, no!" The spectators who had not fled as soon as arrows started to fly took heel once they saw my robes. Within seconds, we were alone in the middle of the streets of Bravil.

She looked up at me with tear-blurred eyes, clutching at the wound in her stomach.

"Lucien!"

"By Sithis, what have you done! What madness has claimed you, Caleigh?"

Silence.

"How could you betray me like this?"

She blinked, winced, remained silent. It was just like old times. I wished she would react, give me something to maintain my momentum.

"I trusted you, and you used me to betray the entire Brotherhood!"

A flicker of emotion emerged from the pain suffusing her face. But it was not guilt, or pride. Instead, I was greeted with confusion, and as my dagger raised to perform the killing stroke, something I didn't like. Something like relief.

My hand lowered, and it felt as though the blade I was holding suddenly weighed thrice what I did. "You have no idea what I am talking about, do you."

She shook her head blankly. I was flooded with a sense of relief so strong it made me light-headed. I hadn't been an idiot for trusting her after all.

"You have been systematically killing off all the members of the Black Hand!"

She gasped, clutching at her stomach as the wound sent a stab of pain through her body. Her hands were dark with blood.

"They think I am the traitor, Caleigh! Me! Because of you!" I almost hit her, but my rage was quickly being overtaken by disappointment. "How could you have been so stupid?"

"Lucien," she groaned, eyes rolling back into her head. She fell forward in a faint, and I realized then I was standing in a pool of her blood. I acted quickly, rifling through Ungolim's clothing to obtain his house key, then letting us both in without fanfare. I left bloody footprints in the dirt, but the guard wouldn't dare follow us. However, they would talk about what they had seen, and the Black Hand would soon descend upon us both. I needed to get Caleigh back on her feet, needed to tell her the plan that was forming hurridly in the back of my mind.

I nearly destroyed Ungolim's house by doing so, but I finally located a single healing potion. Not nearly enough to cure her completely, but hopefully sufficient to pull her away from the brink. I laid her head in my lap and poured half of it slowly into her mouth, running my fingers through her hair and working out the tangles.

When she regained consciousness, I saw to the remains of the arrow, pulling it out with a practiced motion and ignoring the shrieks of agony my actions produced. She downed the rest of the bottle herself, and soon the wound looked a week old. There was still no way she'd be able to ride comfortably, but at least she was conscious. I looked at her face to find her staring at me tiredly.

"Are you going to stab me now that I'm awake again?" Her voice was faint.

"Hush. You've lost a lot of blood. How could you have fallen for that trick?" I pushed her hair out of her face again and began to wipe her hands clean on my robe, making a mental note to find Ungolim's before I left town.

"I was careless," she replied forlornly, eyes closing heavily. I hit her across the face, and her eyes flew open again.

"No, stay with me. Where are your potions?"

"Don't have any."

"Damn you, Caleigh! We talked about this!"

"I know. I was careless." She smiled at me faintly, and I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. This girl was trying to die.

"I thought you weren't coming back," she added, trying to reach for my hand. Her eyes began to water again, and she clutched at her wound instead. Her words made me feel as though I had been shot in the stomach as well, but there was honestly no way I could have safely gotten word to her. I should have made that clearer before leaving. Or, I shouldn't have tried to protect her and just taken her with me from the outset. I may not have been an idiot for trusting her, but there was no doubt in my mind that I was still an idiot overall.

I sighed and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Of course I was going to come back. But I need you to listen to me right now, my dear. Sit up."

She obliged, wincing, and I tore at the hem of my robe and began to use strips of it to tightly bind her wound.

"I need you and Shadowmere to ride for me. You need to get to your next drop and figure out who has been giving you orders. Once we know who the traitor is, I can talk to Arquen."

She hissed as I knotted the bandaging. "What about you?"

I shook my head. "I need to get out of here. I'm riding for Applewatch. Remember the farm where I sent you to find the old Draconis woman? With Ungolim dead, you and I are the only ones who know it exists, with any luck."

Caleigh grabbed me by the hands. "Can't we just leave?"

"What?"

"Valenwood! Or I'll take you back to the Isles with me when I return to Lord Sheogorath. Anything!" The last word sounded slightly hysterical.

"This is my life we're talking about," I snapped. "My life that has been stolen from me by this traitor. I need to get it back, and I can't do that without you."

There was a pause. Then, she spoke the most beautiful words I have ever heard. "I am yours to command, Speaker." She said them calmly, with no hint of bitterness.

"Good girl. Let's get you to your horse."

She rose shakily, gritting her teeth. "You'll have to help me into the saddle."

"Who is going to help you down again?" I threw my arm around her waist, and together we hobbled for the main gate. Only when I saw a townswoman gasp did I realize her cowl was down. Soon everyone would know an assassin helped the Hero of Kvatch out of Bravil. This was likely the last blow her reputation could stand.

"I own a house in Anvil. The stablehands will help me down, and I've got plenty of potions and scrolls there to finish fixing my side," she panted, face white with pain. I tried to turn us to the main gate, but she insisted on returning to where Ungolim's corpse lay. I was likely the only person in the entire city that understood the irony--his last breath had been taken at the feet of The Night Mother herself. The statue's eyes gazed down at him with infinite compassion, and when I turned to see Caleigh I was surprised by the echo of emotion present on her face.

"I really should eat him, you know."

I tried not to flinch away from her. "What?"

"It's our way. He fought well."

"You haven't felt the need to eat anyone else you've murdered," I observed, and she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Those weren't fair fights! It feels wrong to leave another warrior here in the dirt."

"Caleigh, we don't have time to heal you completely. We certainly don't have time to eat a grown mer!" I tried to keep my voice steady, but I think she could tell I was repulsed. She pointed at the gates with a sigh, and we made our way there with painful deliberateness. I gave a low whistle once we were beyond the walls and Shadowmere trotted into view, nickering expectantly. But I didn't want to let her go, not yet. Something else was bothering me.

"Caleigh." I bade her stand on her own and forced her to meet my eyes. "Are you trying to kill yourself? No novice I've seen is as sloppy as you were today."

She winced and looked to the ground. "Like I said, I convinced myself you weren't coming back."

I sighed in exasperation and pulled her close. "That was foolish of you," I murmured into her hair. "How many different ways must I prove to you that you're mine?"

"It's more complicated than that. After you-- After, when you left--" her voice quavered uncertainly. "I thought you'd gone to that elf woman and lost interest in me. I went to the Chapel. I was going to leave the guild, seek forgiveness from the gods, never...never see you again." She was looking determinedly at a plant near my right foot. "But they wouldn't talk to me. I waited for too long, and they abandoned me. So I kept doing your bidding, and waited for you to come back. But your contracts were so impersonal!"

That strange constricted feeling in my chest came back, and I tightened my arms around her, hugging her so fiercely I accidentally made her wince in pain as I contacted her arrow wound. "We're going to fix this. Do as I asked, return to me, and we can deal with the traitor and go back to the way things were."

She sighed and pressed her face into my shoulder. "And if we don't succeed?"

"We will."

"But if we don't."

"Then I die." I tried to say it gently.

"What am I going to do without you?" Her voice was strangely sullen.

"Without me?" I took her chin in my hands and forced her to keep eye contact with me. "Do you have that ring on you?"

"R-ring?" she stammered.

"You know the one. Take it out."

She fumbled awkwardly in her pocket, forcing her pain-dazed nerves to do her bidding. The ring appeared, glimmering gently between two of her fingers.

"Put it on."

She did so without questioning me, and as it slid onto her finger I saw the lines around her eyes relax away.

"You're going to keep that on until this is over, one way or another. Do you understand me?"

She nodded slowly, and I kept speaking before she could voice whatever thought was forming in her mind. "If I die, keep it on until your life is back under control. Stay in the guild, leave the guild, I don't care. I am not worth dying over."

She started to speak again, but I cut her off. "I'm not."

Her lips found mine then, her arms wrapped around me, her fingers buried in my hair, and I let myself forget about everything for a few moments as I remembered all the delicious things she was capable of doing to me. My time without her had been almost unbearable. The kiss went on far longer than it should have because I couldn't shake the feeling that this was the last one we'd ever have. I wanted to enjoy every second of it almost as much as I wanted to find a way to convince her once and for all that I'd never want another woman. I hoped the ring would be enough to keep her going until this was all over, one way or another.

I lifted her onto Shadowmere without warning, averting my eyes from her face. If she knew how worried I was, she would fail. "Applewatch, as fast as you can." With that I smacked Shadowmere soundly and she bolted down the road toward Anvil. All too soon, they were both out of sight. I lingered in Bravil long enough to comandeer Ungolim's robes, then stole a black horse of my own and fled civilization. The roads would be too easy to track me by--I traveled along water when I could, crossing land on the rockiest sections I could find, making my way with excruciating slowness toward my destination.

That is what I am doing now, though I am so exhausted I can hardly keep in the saddle. I haven't slept in days, and my legs are so sore from riding that I doubt I will be able to stand once I reach the farm. I was making good time until I lamed the first horse and had to steal another. This one, too, is fading fast. I won't be able to keep the rest of my guildmates off my trail for long at this rate.

Only my memories of her have kept me going this far. They distract me enough so I can ignore my aching joints for a while and force myself to keep going for just one more mile. But I am out of memories now. My repeated acts of foolishness shortened further the already too few months we had together, and I have no more pleasantries to dwell upon as I travel. Just when I feel like I will fall out of the saddle and sleep where I land, the tiny farmhouse creeps into view in the distance. I let the horse go and approach on foot, sneaking as best I can with stiffened legs. The garden is overgrown, the paths unusued, and the house interior covered in dust. No one has been in here for a long time.

I find the old woman's bed and fall upon it in a stupor, knowing that I shouldn't sleep, but painfully aware that I no longer have a choice. I have enough time to feel my muscles begin to unknot before sleep takes me.

The change in light that signaled daybreak should have roused me, but my body is too tired to be trustworthy. Instead, what stirs me are the sounds of hooves coming up the path. At first I am elated because I think it must be Caleigh, and then I realize I am hearing more than one horse. It's the Black Hand. The house I have chosen for my refuge is an open square. I have nowhere to run, or hide, and so I rise to face them without fear. I wish I'd had the foresight to leave a letter for Caleigh somewhere in the room, or in a dead drop. Something telling her I'm sorry. So sorry.

The door bursts open and I am quickly surrounded by Arquen, Mathieu, and a Dunmer I do not know. They snarl at me, blades drawn, but I remain still, hands at my sides.

"Lucien! It's over! Draw and fight!" hisses Mathieu, staring at me with an expression that I can only describe as gleeful.

I shake my head, and Arquen's dagger begins to lower uncertainly. "Do you think this is going to prove some sort of point?" she snaps.

"I am not your traitor," I reply, keeping my voice even.

"Where is your proof?"

"I have none. You came too soon." I force my eyes to stay on her and not the door. I don't want them to know Caleigh is coming.

"I set you loose to stop your Silencer, and three more of our ranking members died!" her voice quavers, and her eyes fill with angry tears. "What proof can refute that?"

"My Silencer turned out to be a better woodsman than I was expecting," I sigh, making a show of shrugging. "I couldn't stop her in time."

This is the wrong ploy. Mathieu snarls and lunges for me, burying his blade into the soft flesh of my side. I stagger as fire fills my every nerve-- it has been years since someone has landed a blow on me. But even as I feel my blood begin to spill onto the floor, I keep my own blade covered.

"Lucien!" Arquen gasps, crying in earnest now that she sees my blood seeping into the wood flooring of the cabin. The rich, metallic smell of iron fills my nostrils again, and I inhale deeply, savoring it for what will likely be the last time.

"The Tenets are my life, Arquen." I keep my eyes on her, ignoring Mathieu, ignoring the Dunmer. "You know that better than these two."

"Don't listen to him, Arquen!" snaps the other mer, stepping closer to me threateningly.

"If I draw my blade, at least one of you will die," I continue, and the Dunmer steps back again. Even he knows I am stating a simple fact. "And since I have yet to discover which of you is the traitor, I cannot risk it. Never murder a Dark Brother or Dark Sister," I recite, meeting Arquen's eyes pointedly. "To do so is to--"

"--invoke the wrath of Sithis," she finishes, lowering her dagger completely.

"And I cannot disobey my Dread Lord." My hand wants to clutch at the wound in my side, but I force myself to ignore it. Ignore my blood pooling at my feet and making their purchase slick and unsteady. Soon I will stumble, but until I do I must show no weakness.

"This is wrong," Arquen hisses, turning on the other two. "It cannot be Lucien. I've known him since we were children!"

"He is lying to you," retorts Mathieu, readying his blade for another strike. I steady myself, knowing I will likely not be able to handle the pain of a second wound, that my weakness and exhaustion will show as soon as his blade pierces my flesh, but we are all interrupted by the sound of another galloping horse. I pray to the Night Mother that it is not Caleigh. She cannot come here, not now.

The door bursts open, and another black-clad man enters. I do not recognize him, either. It occurs to me that I've grown somewhat out of touch with the guild in my old age.

"There's another horse nearly at my heels!" he gasps, gesturing wildly at the door. "I saw the rider as I was climbing the ridge."

"The Silencer?" asks the Dunmer, and the new man nods. My face drains of all its remaining blood. Caleigh is going to die here, right alongside me, if I do not do something now. The situation isn't safe. The other Speakers have the glint of bloodlust in their eyes, and I know all too well this will not end until they have been sated. The thought of her dying because of me is more unbearable than the hard truth that I am about to perish at the hands of three unworthy assassins. It is too late for talk. There is only one way out of this now, and it is for her, not me. I am a dead man. The thought is somehow comforting.

"Do not hurt her!" I cry, and they all turn to me and stare from under their hoods. Mathieu is smiling.

"She--she didn't know. She didn't know she was doing anything wrong. Check her orders when she arrives, and you'll see."

Mathieu's smile falters strangely, and Arquen frowns at me. "No, Brother! You don't mean...?"

"Yes. She was only following orders. Please, spare her."

Her face grows hard. "I cannot believe you had me so convinced..."

I want to tell her she is a smart girl, the best of everyone here, better even than me. But I cannot, because to do so would endanger Caleigh. And so I lie to my oldest friend for the last time. It strikes me as strangely fitting that my final act in this world is one of deception.

"I'm sorry. But I am your traitor." I look her in the eyes and force her to believe me. Their daggers point toward me again in unison, matched this time by looks of pure rage. Arquen steps into the center of their ring and removes my cowl with a sharp jerking motion.

"You do not deserve to die in these clothes," she hisses, blinking back tears.

I help her remove the robes as best I can with weakening muscles. She has to get the belt for me, as my fingers no longer seem to possess any fine motor control. For a painful moment I wish she were Caleigh. Once I am stripped naked, I let my dagger fall from my hand atop the black cloth crumpled at my feet. Now that I am unarmed, the Dunmer's back straightens, and he begins to smile in anticipation. I stand before them naked, side coated in my own blood, repulsed by their weakness. Before Arquen can step back into the ring, I grab at her wrist.

"Please. Spare the girl." My voice sounds more desperate than I mean it to, but when I see her face I realize this is good. "One request from an undeserving Brother."

She looks down at me coldly, but I can see the conflict in her eyes. Her hand slides into my hair and along my cheek with mocking familiarity.

"Don't worry, Lucien. Your puppet will remain safe so long as I live." She presses her lips against mine to seal the deal, and I try not to be disappointed that it is she, not Caleigh, who has given me my last kiss before dying. She pulls away when she realizes I have no intention of returning it. "It's the least I can do for her after what she must have gone through with you." The fact that she will never know just how true those words are strikes me as suddenly funny, and I begin to laugh.

Arquen steps back into the ring silently, lifts her blade again. They have the decency to wait for me to stop laughing before their daggers descend in brilliant flashes. All too soon I feel more pain than I can bear. I fall to the floor, screaming, slipping in and choking on my own blood. Time slows down, and I try to think of Caleigh, but there is too much metal and blood to give me peace. Everything is red and white-hot, and my body begins to shut down by excruciating inches. They are doing what they can to keep me alive for as long as possible, but I think my lungs have stopped working by the time Mathieu begins to flay the skin from my body. As I feel the flesh of my legs exposed to the air as their protective covering is peeled away, something snaps in my mind, and I am free.

Blackness surrounds me--a perfect, cloudless midnight that is cold as winter ice and shrouded in shadow. For the first time in my life, I feel the Dread Lord's presence. I have wished for this moment since I can remember, as a little boy praying by my bedside before sleeping, in the silent hours of the night when I felt my most alone, when a contract went badly and I saw no way out. Suddenly everything I have done feels completely pointless, insignificant in comparison to the reality, the sheer presence, of Sithis. And yet he still noticed me, cared enough to be here in the final moments of my life.

Well done, my son, comes a coldly feminine voice in my head, wrapping about me like chilled silk. You have served us faithfully until the end.

"Mother!" I gasp, or try to, but I no longer have control over my vocal cords.

One more sentence reaches me before the moment of perfect blackness I have been granted becomes the emptiness of death: Sleep well, my darling.
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The Last Days of Lucien Lachance