My Loving Assassin

My Loving Assassin
An Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Adult Fanfiction
Chapter I: Adultery and Murder
It had all started with one simple murder. Azriel, a dunmer living in the city of Cheydinhal, had discovered that his wife was cheating on him. This was not the first time, in fact he had caught her going to meet with other men many times in the past, and each time he had forgiven her at her pleading. He loved his wife so much, but now it felt that she was ripping his very soul out of his body with her constant betrayal.
Azriel made his living as a farm hand on a small farm outside of Cheydinhal, and one day, when he had the day off, he told his wife that he would be gone all day working. This was merely a ploy, however, to catch her in the act with her lover. He waited until the middle of the day, watching his house secretly from behind an old, run-down house in the city. Even for a dunmer his skin was particularly dark, nearly black, and from the shadows of the abandoned house he was completely hidden. After nearly an hour of waiting, he saw a tall, handsome Nord with blonde hair entering his house, and he knew that he had them. Azriel had been preparing for just such an event, and had recently bought a dagger with which he would have his bloody revenge.
Azriel slowly snuck up on the house, making sure that not even the town guard would see him entering the scene of the crime. He had planned this out for so long that he remembered every tedious step. When he came close to his house, he went around to the back, opening the door to the cellar. Through the cellar he made his way up into his house. He could already hear the sexual moans and groans of his wife and her lover as he made his way through the lowest level of his house. He slowly approached the stairs and carefully slipped off his shoes. His bare feet, he knew, would make far less noise than his pig skin shoes. Being born under the sign of the shadow, Azriel had the ability to make himself invisible once a day, and he used that opportunity here to conceal his body from sight.
At the top of the stairs he could see into his bedroom, and there was his wife, riding the Nord’s shaft and practically screaming in ecstasy as she did. Her naked body was covered in beads of sweat, her red hair was a tangled mess, and the sheets had been almost completely kicked off of the bed during their wild, animalistic sex. The Nord was muscular, far more than Azriel had expected. He knew that if either of them had a chance to kill Azriel then it would be the Nord, for he looked strong enough to rip Azriel in half with his bare hands. Seeing his wife wildly copulating with this Nord would have brought tears to Azriel’s eyes months ago, but he was past that. Now he was so full of anger and hatred for what she had been doing all this time that he could not help but almost smile as he slipped the dagger out from its sheathe. The Nord was disgusting to Azriel, how much he relished the feel of Azriel’s wife’s wet womanhood sliding up and down the length of his sexual member. Azriel could see the enjoyment on the Nord’s face and walked over to the bed, lifting the dagger over his head. In rage and resolve Azriel brought the dagger down into the Nord’s throat, killing him in a single blow. The spell which had made Azriel invisible dissipated and Azriel’s wife saw who it was who had just murdered her lover.
Azriel’s wife screamed, pulled herself off of the Nord, and started running for the door. Azriel acted fast, leaping at her and seizing her by the throat, pinning her to the wall. “No…not this time, Veera.”
“Please, Azriel,” his wife pleaded, “I’m sorry…I never meant to hurt-“
Azriel would not hear it. He would not argue with her, he would not give her the chance to make her case, he would not allow her to breathe her adulterous words any longer. He brought the dagger up to her chest, between her large, round breasts, and shoved the dagger through her sternum. She let out one final shriek before falling dead, her eyes blank and lifeless. Azriel thought to himself, “I should have known better than to marry an Imperial.”
Azriel knew he had to act quickly. Someone was sure to have heard his wife’s screams and he needed to leave before the guards came. He ran down the flight of stairs and flung open the door to his cellar, slamming it behind him as he ran. He stopped at the cellar door leading outside and pressed his ear against it, listening carefully for the sound of footsteps outside. When he could hear none, he slowly opened the door, peering out. No one was in sight. Azriel crept out, making sure to stay in the shadows as he snuck through the town. Whenever he could he stayed in the water, swimming slowly and letting the reflections on the water conceal his whereabouts. He swam over to a drainage grate on one of the city’s walls and, with some difficulty, removed it, swimming through and out into the world outside the city.
He could not return to Cheydinhal for at least a day. If he did so he would arouse the guards’ suspicions of his involvement in the murder. If he was to get away with this he needed to go far away. The best place that he could think of to go was the waterfront district of the Imperial City, so he traveled through the woods, making his way across the countryside of Cyrodiil.
Many hours of walking, avoiding the roads and using the White Gold Tower as his compass brought him to the waterfront district. Imperial Legion soldiers were wandering around the district here and there, and it seemed that everyone living in the district was poor. Azriel found an abandoned shack in the district and decided to stay there for the night. Normally homeless people stayed in the shack, but in this case it seemed that they were afraid of Azriel just from the sight of him. Glancing at his reflection in a pool of water, Azriel did have to admit that he did have the look of an assassin or thug. Still, this meant that he had the place to himself, and he stayed the night in that old shack.
His sleep was interrupted, however, as he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a man in black robes with a black hood staring down at him. He spoke with an Imperial accent, and an almost scratchy voice, “You sleep rather soundly for a murderer,” he said with a smile.
Azriel’s first reaction was to deny what he had done, but also to prepare to fight this stranger. However, as he let the stranger speak he found out that his name was Lucien Lachance and that he was a speaker of the Dark Brotherhood, a guild of assassins. Lucien knew what Azriel had done because “the Night Mother” had observed his murder and was impressed. Lucien was not there to punish Azriel, but rather to congratulate him and recruit him as a member of the Dark Brotherhood. Lucien gave Azriel a dagger, called the “blade of woe” and told him to use it to murder a man named Rufio who was staying in the Inn of Ill Omen, and that would be his test to join the Dark Brotherhood.
The idea seemed interesting to Azriel, so he went and committed the murder, making sure again that there were no witnesses to his crime. This murder was simpler than the murder of his wife and her lover, even though he had little time or resources with which to plan. When he slept again in another inn, Lucien told him of the Dark Brotherhood’s rules, of the being named Sithis, and of the Night Mother. He also told him that the sanctuary in which he would be staying was located in the city of Cheydinhal, the old abandoned house which the count of Cheydinhal refused to admit even existed.
Azriel made his way back to Cheydinhal, making sure to stay on his guard as he passed through the front gates. If the guards had figured out that it was indeed him who had committed the murder, then he would have to run again and hide in the wilderness, never to reap the rewards that the Dark Brotherhood had to offer. As he approached his house he could see two guards standing outside, and one approached him.
“Azriel, sir, are you aware of what has happened here?” the guard asked, seeming genuinely concerned.
“No…what happened?”
The guard told him that his wife had been murdered and that they had no leads on who was the murderer. They believed however that it was the wife of her lover, a Nord woman who had been seen in town the previous day. This suspicion was further confirmed when the Nord woman fled the town in a hurry, and the Imperial Legion was now on the lookout for her.
Azriel kept his cool throughout the entire story, trying to appear sad as he heard news of his wife’s death, and trying to appear shocked to hear that she was with a lover at the time. He also feigned anger, though he was truly feeling relief, at hearing that his crime was being blamed on the Nord’s wife.
“I need time to be alone…” Azriel said, touching his forehead, “I’m sorry…I’m not feeling well.” He pushed his way past the two guards and made his way over to the abandoned house. When no one was looking, he picked the lock on the house and entered, making his way down to the lower levels. When he came to a stone door he heard a voice ask, “What is the color of night?”
“Sanguine, my brother,” he said, and the door opened. Stepping inside he saw various assassins, all wearing dark clothing with hoods, walking around the sanctuary. This was his new home, and Azriel smiled. His life of pain and constant betrayal was over, and here began his life as a child of the Night Mother and Sithis.