#'man i love martin' 'lucien is so hot'

[oblivion-npc]

obsessed with him actually

[spoopyghostgirl]

Oblivion Modern AU Fic

Pairings: Lucien Lachance X HoK, Lucien Lachance X Silencer, Martin Septim X HoK

Word Count: 9.969

TW: Attempted Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts

Cameras click, Liliths lips stretching into an empty smile. Several council members stood around her, smiling at photographers and passing around congratulations. Mehrunes Dagon has been vanquished and the last member of the Septim line laid dead. A martyr for his nation, for his people, for her.

“It is the end of an Era,” Lilith blinked, High Chancellor Ocato’s words sounding muffled and far away. “But thanks to our brave Champion and our dear Emperor, Tamriel is safe once more!” The crowd cheered, their voices echoing around the large auditorium. The award ceremony had been thrown together two weeks after Mehrunes had been vanquished. Two weeks after Martin died. Lilith’s eyes pinched shut, in a small reprieve from the stare of well wishers and council members. “But, we all know who you’re really here for.” Lilith felt a hand on her back, her eyes widening in panic as Ocato pushed her forward. “The Hero of Kvatch and now the champion of Cyrodil, Lilith!” She stumbled, both hands coming up to catch herself on the smooth wooden podium before her to a roaring applause. Swallowing painfully, she pushed herself up to her full height, surveying the endless sea of strangers. “If you’d like to say a few words, Lady Corbeau.” Ocato spoke gently in her ear after a pregnant pause. ‘No,’ instead she nodded her head, knowing what was expected of her. 'You’ve done this before, put on a charming smile and tell them the words they wish to hear.’ Her lips twitched, her gold eyes running over the crowd. Taking a calming breath, she forced herself to speak.

  “Thank you, High Chancellor, for this ceremony and-,” her right hand closed around the amulet, it’s appearance flickering in her hand, “award. It is an honor to serve the Empire and her great people.” Inhaling deeply, she pressed on, voice wavering. “But there was no greater honor than standing beside Mar- Emperor Septim as he stood against Mehrunes.” The crowd roared, eating up her words but their cheers only caused the void in her chest to ache. Her best friend, the man she was in love with was dead, and these people stood cheering. Celebrating a man they never would have given a fuck about. The spare heir in a long line of conquerors and mad men. They didn’t know how he sang in the shower. They didn’t know how he painted the world in vivid color across her skin. They didn’t know the love they had shared or the promises they made. And it ached in a way that Lilith could scarcely describe. Did they deserve to know those intimate moments? The man behind the sacrifice? No but she’d be damned if they didn’t. “But Martin is- was more than that,” she continued, voice quivering. “He was-,” she bit her lower lip, vision blurring as tears filled her eyes, his smiling face flashing before her eyes, a cup of coffee that was more than half creamer clutched in his hands. “He was-,” blood flooded her mouth and she stumbled back from the podium as she begged the tears not to fall. Gold eyes opening she looked to the one person she felt sure could understand. 'Jauffre,’ “I’m- I’m sorry, I can’t- I can’t do this,” with that Lilith turned on her heel and bolted out the back door of the auditorium and into the snow chilled air. Lilith’s feet pounded against the frozen pavement, hot tears blurring her vision as she ran. 

“We can find another way,” her voice trembled, gaze moving from Jauffre to Martin. “Even with the portal opening we have time. We just- we just have to find another way.” Her voice cracked, eyes move pass Martin to the blood red sky, thick black magic whirling around a growing Oblivion Gate. 

“It’s too late,” Jauffres words were gentle, his right hand squeezing Liliths shoulder. Her mouth opened, hot tears filling her eyes only for a loud bang to tear through the air. Eyes snapping back to the portal, Lilith found several large red hands wrapped around its edge before a head emerged. “He’s already here,” her mouth opened, words failing her as the news copter that had been buzzing about the chaos was grabbed in one of Mehrunes large hands and crushed. Shrugging off Jauffres hand, Lilith stepped closer to Martin, her hand barely grazing his arm before he turned to face her. The fear that had been glowing in his blue eyes had been replaced. Staring back at her was a man who knew what had to be done and wasn’t about to hesitate. 

“Martin, please-," 

"I love you,” Martin cut her off, left hand sliding up her face before being joined by his right. “I love you so much, more than anything," 

"No,” her voice cracked, thick tears rolling down her cheeks. “You can’t leave me, please, I-,” his lips moved against hers, a weak whimper leaving her lips when he finally pulled away. “Martin-,” her words faltered, seeing warm tears streaming down his cheeks,

“More than anything.” With that Martin summoned a burst of magic in his hand, destroying the Amulet of Kings. Lilith rushed after him, barely making it out of the Temple of Akatosh before a pair of arms wrapped around her. 

“Martin no-,” but it was too late. Golden magic swirled around her lover, his soft blue eyes meeting with hers one last before his form changed. “I love you!” Her words were drowned out as Martin, now the vessel of the great dragon Akatosh, threw his head back and roared. 

“Gods damn it,” Lilith reached up to rub uselessly at her eyes. She wasn’t sure where she was going until she looked up, finding the now standing, great statue of Akatosh. “Akatosh Akatosh Akatosh,” she hissed angrily, “so great and powerful.” Her voice quivered as she yanked off her “award”, a gold plated replica of the Amulet of Kings and whipped it at the statue. It bounced off uselessly before skittering across the ground. “If you were so fucking great you wouldn’t have needed a vessel, needed him! But no, I finally find him again, after 5 years, and you go and rip him away from me! And for what,” she stormed up to the statue, arms flying open, “You saved Tamriel but what’s the point!? What is there for me without him!” Her voice lowered, arms wrapping around herself as she pressed her forehead against the cool stone of the statue. “What’s left for me,” She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she could feel someone watching her. 'The traitor,’ not even raising her head she spoke, 

“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it. There’s nothing else left for me here,” black boots entered her peripheral vision before something warm and smelling of sandalwood was draped over her. Shivering, Lilith look up to find a pair of worried honey eyes. “Mathieu,” her lower lip trembled and she looked away, the concern in his eyes reigniting the ache in her chest. “How did you know I was here?" 

"I didn’t,"his voice softened, "but several of our siblings were watching the award ceremony. Vicente called me when they saw you bolt and I figured you’d either be here or at the park near the castle.” He avoided mentioning Lucien having offered to come to the monument, telling Vicente he was already on his way there. Pinching her eyes shut, she lowered her face into his jacket, pulling it tighter around her shivering frame. 

“But why did you-,” stepping closer to her, Mathieu helped her slide her arms into the sleeves of his jacket before zipping it up. 

“I was worried about you,” and he had been, something that had surprised the murder happy sibling. He wasn’t sure what about her had made him hesitate but even if he had come here to kill her, he wouldn’t have been able to. Seeing her here, cheeks red from the cold and dried tears, his heart ached for her. “I-,” he paused, unsure how to proceed. Could he trust her? Would telling her alert Lucien to him knowing who killed his mother? “I know what you’re going through,” hesitating again, he searched her face for any signs of distrust or disbelief. “My mother she…,” cold fingers lightly caressed his cheek, drawing his eyes back to hers. “My father killed her when I was a child,” blaming his father was easy and closest to the truth he could offer her. 

“I’m so sorry, Mathieu, I had no idea.” Her voice was hoarse, either from sitting out in the cold too long or from the sobbing he was sure she’d been doing. Offering her a sad smile, he squeezed her hand as she pulled it away. “How could you have? It’s not something I like talking about but… I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you.” A small smile was his reward though it didn’t meet her eyes. In that moment she reminded him of his younger self so much that it scared him. He had wanted nothing more than to end his own miserable existence. 'Nothing means anything to me without her,’ but then he had discovered that it was his father that had contacted the dark brotherhood to take his precious mother from him, and everything changed. 'But unlike me, she knew exactly who took Martin away.’ And, from the look in her eye, he wondered if anything would be able to pull her from the path she was on. 'I’ll speak to Him,’ he had enough practice to not snarl whenever he thought of Lucien, 'together we should be able to keep her off contract. Keep her safe,’ satisfied with this line of thought, he pulled his phone out his pocket and set out a quick group texts. The first was to Lucien and Vicente, informing them of his idea, and the second to the Hand and Listener. Lilith had climbed quickly through the ranks, they would be willing to give her time because they would fear losing an extremely talented assassin. Focusing back on Lilith he offered her his hand. “Why don’t we take you home and get you to bed?” Sniffling, Lilith looked up at the statue that had once been the love of her life and then back at Mathieu. “Come on, dear sister, it’ll be there tomorrow.” Releasing a heavy sigh, she took his offered hand, and escorted her to his car. Once in, the drive was quick and silent, Mathieu sending several worried glances in her direction though Lilith seemed to not notice them. Instead she worried at the hem of his jacket sleeve, the wool material soft under her fingers. Pulling into the large parking structure attached to her pent house apartment, Mathieu moved quickly, fishing her out of the car and escorting her into her home. Her fingers trembled as she tried to slip her key into the lock, a sudden realization hitting him. 'They lived here together,’ “You know what? Why don’t you come stay with me for the night? I don’t think I want to be alone tonight,” he added when her mouth opened to argue. Pursing her lips, she looked at the mahogany door that led to her empty apartment before sighing. 

“Okay." 

The drive to his home took about 30 minutes, Lilith dozing in the passenger seat. A small part of him worried about her finding what he hid under his home but shook his head. He trusted her, as odd as that may have sounded to him months ago, but he knew that if anyone would understand his plan, it would be her. Reaching out with his right hand he tucked a strand of snowy hair behind her ear, a sad smile pulling at his lips. 'If she makes it through this.’ Pulling into his drive way he shook her gently to rouse her from her light slumber before helping her into his home. Her gaze flickered quickly around his home, absently noting the modern theme. 

"It’s lovely,” she kicked off her boots, wiggling her toes as she crossed into his living room. “Your walls are very bare though," 

"Maybe you can come by and paint them for me.” He offered, latching on to the small thread of normalcy. She offered him a weak smile that he was sure was meant to reassure him. “Let me grab you some clothes to sleep in and I’ll set up the guest bedroom while you change.” Lilith nodded, silently making her way across the wooden floors of his home before perching on his couch. Frowning, he plucked his vibrating phone from his pants pocket, Luciens name flashing across the screen. “Yes Lachance,”

“Where is she?” Picking through his dresser, he pulled out a pair of soft grey joggers and a grey t shirt. “I’m at her apartment and its empty,” he could faintly hear the man pacing across her wooden floor. “She’s here with me. She-,”

“I’ll be there in 30.” Growling, Mathieu stomped down the hallway and steps, forcing himself to take deep calming breaths before stopping before her. She sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, her left cheek resting on her knees as she stared out the large bay windows that made up the right side of his living room. 

“Hey,” he held out the clothes to her, her hollow eyes meeting his. “Let me show you to  the room,” she followed him up two carpeted flights of steps, her fingers lightly dragging against the glass railing. Stopping briefly behind Mathieu she closed her eyes tightly, forcing herself not to cry in front of him anymore. “Here you go,” she could see it in his face that she hadn’t hid her tears well but after a quick glance in her eyes, he knew not to press. “Why dont you take a quick shower and get some sleep. I’ll be downstairs for awhile if you need anything.” She made it into the shower before her tears became too much and began streaming down her cheeks. Mathieu pinched his eyes shut, having stopped and leaned against the bedroom door. “I’m sorry," 

Lucien, true to his word, showed up 30 minutes later while Bellamont lounged on his futon. Lilith had showered quickly, the water having shut off 15 minutes prior. Mathieu had snuck in and placed a glass of water and some crackers on the bedside table. Hearing Lucien pull up, Matheiu quickly crossed his home, and opened his front door, Luciens hand suspended in the air. 

"Speaker,” Mathieu spoke in greeting, telling himself that he allowed Lachance into his home, despite the older man all but shoving his way in. 

“Where is she," 

"Asleep.” Lucien glanced around the living room before his face hardened in disbelief. 

“In your bed,” Mathieu’s brows shot directly into his hairline, a weak sound of disbelief leaving his throat. 

“You think I would take advantage of her in this state?” Shaking his head his disbelief shifted to anger, “I’m not you, Lucien.” The speed of which Lucien had grabbed the front of Mathieus white button down and lifted him against the wall seemed to surprise them both. “Touch a nerve,” despite the blade that had slipped from the older Speakers sleeve, Mathieu felt no fear. If Lucien killed him now, the black hand would execute him, if Lilith didn’t smell his blood and come to investigate first. 

“You have no idea what you are talking about,” Lucien seethed softly, his composure slipping once more when he noticed the coy smirk on Mathieus face.

  “Lucien!” An ice cold hand on his bicep pried him away from his fellow speaker, Mathieu stumbling lightly before the interrupter reached out and steadied him. “We did not come here for petty infighting,” Vicente continued, shooting Mathieu a scathing glare that wiped the smirk from his lips. Glancing between his two younger brothers to make sure their antics were finished, Vicente cleared his throat. “After you messaged us, the Listener called, and we came to the decision that we would suspend Lilith indefinitely until she is cleared by both the Speaker and I to return to her duties. Your details from this evening’s interaction with Lily really convinced the Listener that it wasn’t just Lucien and I trying to coddle her. We,” a pointed look in his former proteges direction, “wanted to thank you for that. Lily has become a beloved sister and valued member of our family. It would be a shame for her to fall during a job because of her own desire for death." Despite the look, Lucien remained silent, fixing Mathieu with a withering glare. 

"Please tell Lilith to come by my home tomorrow as soon as she wakes. I will inform her of her suspension and what will be expected of her until she returns.” Lucien had already made it halfway to the door before either of his brothers spoke.

“You’re not going to check on her?” Mathieu was the one to voice the question but he could see that Vicente shared the sentiment. Lucien hesitated briefly before turning on his heel and leaving, much to Vicentes disappointment. Sighing, he and Mathieu shared a look of displeasure before he spoke.

“I’d like to check on her if you dont mind,” with a nod, Mathieu lead Vicente up the steps and to the guest room. Mathieu had expected the older vampire to merely poke his head in for a quick inspection but instead watched him cross the room. Lilith was curled up in a ball, a pillow clutched to her chest, and dry tears present on her cheeks. Summoning a small ball of magic, Vicente released a calming spell over her, hoping that it would alleviate her any nightmares for the night. “Rest peacefully, dearest Flower.” Vicente lingered a moment longer, Liliths previously furrowed brows had relaxed and soon after her body followed. Pleased with his results and with the knowledge that she was both comfortable and secure, Vicente exited the bedroom. Taking the hint, Mathieu followed Vicente to the door, tensing when a pale hand was place upon his shoulder. "Thank you for all that you’re doing for her, Mathieu. Lucien might not see it but you are a good Speaker and great brother.“ Stunned, Mathieu merely nodded in response, having not recieved such kindness from the vampire since his youth. Smiling, Vicente bid him goodnight and headed towards his car. Chuckling softly, he found Lucien still there, leaned against his car. "Waiting for someone, Speaker,” a small, disappointed part of him made him ask, Vicente being well aware of Luciens feelings for Lilith. Instead of responding, Lucien brought his hands up to his face, and released a breath of anxiety. 

“Vicente, please,” he was aware of the way that he had conducted himself, Vicentes disapproval apparent but he couldn’t help it. A small, childish part of him knew that Mathieu was also looking out for Lilith. The pair had hit it off as soon as they had met, being introduced when the former member of the Cheydinhal sanctuary had to deliver a message from Speaker Blanchard. He wasn’t sure what exactly had transpired but he found Lilith spending more and more time with the blond. He knew he should have been happy seeing his dear family getting along so well but… shaking his head, he focused on Vicente instead of his own feelings on the matter.

“She is well, fast asleep in Mathieu’s guest room. I cast a simple calming spell upon her, in hopes that it will keep the nightmares at bay but it’s all the comfort I was able to offer her.” Lucien nodded, a weight sliding from his shoulders. “I’m not sure why you didnt just check on her yourself, Lucien. Mathieu has been nothing but supportive with all of this.” Lucien opened his mouth to argue his point but Vicente merely shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Lucien. What matters is that we keep a close eye on her. Mathieu seems quite convinced that she may try to," 

"I know.” Lucien cut him off, not wanting to even consider the possibility. “That’s why we’re suspending her. She needs the time to mourn and we will give her as much time as we can.” Vicente nodded as they lapped into silence, both mens thoughts moving to their own individual plans to aid Lilith. “She isn’t going to take being suspended well," 

"And that is why you should head home and prepare for what you are going to say to her.” Lucien sighed, once more reaching up to scrub at his face with both hands. “Relax, brother, I’m sure you’ll figure out what to say. You just have to take it as it comes. Myself and the rest of the sanctuary will aid you in anyway we can.” With Vicentes hand on his shoulder, Lucien pulled his face from his hands, relief evident in his brown eyes. 

“Thank you, Vicente." 

Lilith awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs, her sleep heavy brain making her jump from bed eagerly before everything clicked. Looking down she found the bed of Matheius she’d slept on the night before and the aching emptiness that reminded her the man cooking was not the man she loved. Hot tears blurred her vision, a soft sob leaving her lips. 

"Gods damn it,” scrubbing at her eyes she missed the door opening and her blond haired companion crossing the room to hold her. 

“Hey hey, deep breaths, Lily, you’re hyperventilating.” Removing her hands from her face she pulled Mathieu closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, and tucking her face into his shoulder. Rubbing small circles into her back, Matheiu took slow calming breaths until Lilith’s breathing matched his own. Pulling back to look into her puffy red eyes, Mathieu offered her a gentle smile. “Better,” his head tilted, watching her wipe away her tears and nod her head. 

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Shaking his head,Mathieu wiped away a stray tear of hers,

“No need to apologize, Lily. I’m always happy to help you,” she smiled weakly, “now come on, let’s get some food in you." 

Breakfast was silent, save for the scraping of silverware and the television show that Mathieu had playing in the background. Lilith, thankful for the silence, had yet to break it and Mathieu had been content to watch her sort through her feelings. They were cleaning up their dishes when Mathieu mentioned Lucien desiring to see her sooner rather than later. 

"And did he tell you what he wanted,” he didn’t miss the way her lips pulled into a grimace. 

“No,” he had looked back down at the dishes as he spoke. “But I wouldn’t keep him waiting. He is a Speaker of the Black Hand,” she scoffed as he lowered his voice in mock seriousness. “If you’d like I can drive you over to his place,” he offered when he found her eyes had taken a glassy far off look again. 

“Yeah, that… that would be great. Thank you, Mathieu,” They had both taken a quick shower, Lilith tugging on a black v neck shirt and a pair of stretchy work out pants Mathieu had given her. Slipping out the guest bedroom and down the steps, Matheiu offered her a black leather jacket before donning the jacket he had allowed her to wear the night before. Mathieu set up his home alarm system before escorting her to his car and sliding in. The car ride was silent, Lilith absently fiddling with the radio before sighing and closing her eyes. Mathieu watched her out of the corner of his eye, a small frown tugging at his lips. 

“Septim for your thoughts?” They both seemed to realize his phrasing was subpar, Mathieu wincing while Lilith bit her lip. “Lily I’m-,”

“It’s alright. I… I’ll get over it,” she sighed softly, fidgeting in her seat next to him. “It’s just,” she nibbled on her bottom lip, briefly looking eyes with him, “does it ever get easier?” Mathieu looked away from her and at the road,  a sharp intact of breath leaving his lips when his heart pitched painfully at the thought of his mother. 

“I’ll let you know,” she looked down at her pale hands before sighing once more. Mathieu reached out, taking her hand in his gently. “I’m sorry I’m not more help,” and he meant it. 

“No, you’ve been,” she laced their fingers together and squeezed his hand. “I’m happy you were the one to find me last night, Mathieu.” His cheeks flushed as her thumb continued rubbing absent circles on the back of his hand. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he had harbored feelings for Lilith, especially after she had proven to be a kind and warm person. It had surprised him that she would join a band of murdering psychopaths but after discovering her penchant for drinking blood and remaining forever young, he understood. She had killed out of necessity for hundreds of years and now, she was paid. Yet, despite her murderous ways, she was still good. Still someone he could see himself remaining close to and even becoming closer with. The warm feeling swelling in his chest came to a abrupt halt when his gaze landed on her red rimmed eyes and nose. He could recognize that she was looking for comfort, a small part encouraging him to encourage her but he knew that if he did try anything now, it would forever stop them from actually being together. 

“I’ve got your back, Dear Sister,” she smiled sadly at the term of endearment but did not release his hand. Thankful for the small understanding between them, they fell back into a companionable silence. 

It didnt take much longer for them to arrive at Luciens home. One of the oldest estates in all of Cyrodil and probably the one that was best kept. Lucien had had it completely redone so that it had a completely modern interior. Lilith, who had rarely been to the estate, pressed closer to the glass, her yellow gaze moving quickly to take everything in. Mathieu, despite the home belonging to Lucien, smiled at her reaction. 

“Its a nice place,” Hades observer absently, remembering that Ocheeva and Teinaava had told her about the estate in passing, having been raised by Lucien there. 

“Not exactly my style but it does have a certain charm to it,” Mathieu admitted, earning a small quirk of a smile from Lilith. 

“Agreed. Reminds me too much of home,” her lips twitched with her desire to growl but she kept her feelings in check. She didnt need to think of her parents, especially now, and especially after what her father had said of her relationship with Martin. 'It will only end in heartbreak,’ her eyes stung but she didn’t have long to linger on her fathers all too right observation, the car rolling to a stop. Lilith hesitated, her gaze moving in hopes of catching a glimpse of her Speaker moving within. 

“It’s Sunday, dear sister meaning Lucien will likely be in his," 

"Garden.” Lilith’s lips twitched with amusement, the Speaker claiming that the garden was for poisons and potions for the brotherhood, but sputtered when she mentioned his colorful array of flowers and the very limited use she was sure they provided. Shaking her head Lilith opened her mouth to delay the inevitability of seeing Lucien, hoping that Mathieu would see her inner turmoil and drive her back to his home, but found Mathieu watching her with a look that reminded her far too much of Vicente. A look that told her there was no way of getting out of whatever was about it to happen. “Vicente would be proud,” she grumbled childishly, a surprised bark of laughter leaving Mathieu. 

“Whatever do you mean dear sister,” rolling her eyes, she lightly shoved the blond before offering her an anxious smile. “It’ll be alright and if it isnt, call me, and I’ll come back for you.” Her eyes pinched shut, a shaky breath leaving her lips, 

“Do you promise?” Mathieus brows shifted into his hair, 

“I promise.” Accepting his answer, Lilith took off her belt and stepped out of his car. Lilith hesitated once more outside his car, left hand resting on the handle. Turning her attention back to him, she leaned in through the open window, right hand resting on the side of the passenger seat closest to him.

“Thank you, Mathieu,” her lips skimmed his right cheek, “for everything.” Mathieu swallowed the blush that threatened to spill across his cheeks, offering her a firm nod in the direction of Luciens front door. “I’m going I’m going,” her exasperation was false but Mathieu played into it, rolling his eyes and huffing. His dark eyes followed had to the front door before he was able to force himself to leave, knowing that Lucien wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. 'Not with how fond of her Vicente and his sanctuary are.' 

Lilith didnt even knock, opening the heavy wooden door, and making her way through the foyer and out the door on the far right of the home. Lucien was right where they both thought he would be, in his garden. He wore a long sleeve black shirt and loose fitting bottoms black bottoms with a gardening apron over the front. Lilith found her eyes trailing up the tan skin his rolled up sleeves exposed, noting the speck of damp dirt that clung to his skin. 

“Good afternoon, Speaker,” she lingered in between the house and Lucien’s crouched position, his dark eyes not even moving from the plant he was inspecting as she spoke. “Speaker Bellamont informed me that you wished to speak with me,” she pressed when he had yet to acknowledge her. Lucien dropped the plant onto the ground, his lips pulling into a scowl before he stood, brushing his dirt covered hands on his apron. “Luc-," 

"We can discuss inside, Lilith. If you’d follow me,” he moved past her, putting far more distance between them as he passed than necessary. Her jaw worked in an attempt to cool the flutter of annoyance she felt at his actions but followed him nonetheless. Lucien lead her to his kitchen. “Take a seat,” he gestured at the bar that made up one side of the dinning room, Lilith glowering as Lucien washed his hands and removed his apron. “Do you want something to drink?” He prattled on, opening one of the fridges under the bar, 

“No, Speaker,” she watched him fish out one of his imported beers, “but I would like to get to the point of this meeting.” He took several large gulps of his beer before leaning his biceps against the counter across from her. She mirrored his posture, leaning her arms on the bar from her seat. 

“You are being suspended indefinitely,” Lilith was on her feet in an instant, Lucien’s face barely register the distinct crash as her chair tipped over and hit his wooden floor. “Your behavior over the past few days have been erratic and irrational. The brotherhood, both with the possibility of their being a traitor in our midst and it’s general desire to be seen professionally, can not allow you to continue taking contracts at this time." 

"You’re worried about the brotherhood’s fucking image!?” She hadn’t planned on yelling, she had planned on telling him that she was fine and had no need to worry in a calm and rational fashion. But hearing him say that she was being laid off because he was worried about the way her actions would be seen by potetional clients made her see red. “That’s what you fucking care about!?" 

"Of course it is, what did you think I was suspending you because your little bed warmer died?” Lilith didn’t remember moving around the counter nor ripping the glass bottle out of his hand and throwing it across the room. What she did remember was the biting slap that stung her cheek and the intense rage that followed. “See this is what I meant by-,” Lilith’s right hand shot out with snake like speed, connecting beautifully with Luciens nose. Lucien, surprised by the attack, stumbled back, his eyes as equally wide as Lilith’s. “You dare strike me again,” Lilith shivered, whether in fear or excitement, she wasn’t quite sure but she wasn’t about to back down. 

“Dare to strike a bastard like you,” she laughed humourlessly, “of fucking course and I will gladly do it again.” She spat, starch yellow eyes shifting to a flat black. Lucien scoffed, a smirk stretching across his lips, his blood stained hand dropping from his place. 

“You will learn obedience, Lilith Corbeau, if I have to dill it into you myself.” Her mouth opened to bark out a petty challenge when Lucien’s left hand grazed her cheek, her reflexes saving her from a bruised jaw, and the brunt of his swing. Her right hand closed around his wrist and she twisted swiftly, bringing Lucien to one knee. Her victory was short lived as he reached up, also with his right hand, and yanked her forward. Lucien threw her over his shoulder and standing. Lilith attempted to hit the pressure point in the back of his leg but instead found herself being slammed against the wooden floor. Stars colored her vision as her head swam but Lucien wasn’t done. Lucien bent down, grabbing her by the color of her borrowed leather jacket and hauling her to her feet. Instead of grabbing at the hands holding her, Lilith brought her arms close together, lacing her fingers together, and thrusting them up between the two of them befor violently bringing her elbows down into the bend of his arms. Lucien had no choice but to release her, her left leg coming up and delivering a solid kick to his stomach. 

“Come on, Speaker,” she drawled sarcastically, watching Lucien reach up and run his hand across his upper lip to stem the blood from his nose. “I thought you were going to teach me a lesson,” if the situation was different, Lucien would have found her comment amusing but given his bleeding nose and her rather uninjured state, he found his blood boiling. Moving to close the gap she had put between them he swung, the pair dancing quickly around the room, blocking and pairing strikes while also attempting to gain the upper hand, moving from the kitchen to the dining room. Luciens left hand grazed her cheek as stepped back, stumbling into one of the chairs around his table. Lucien, taken advantage of the distraction, landed a decisive hit on her mouth, splitting open her bottom lip in the process. Ducking under his next swing, Lilith once more put space between them, a hiss leaving her lips as her tongue slid across her open flesh.

“What’s that phrase that you like so much again?” Lucien hummed, “ah yes, talk shit, get hit.” He mocked, Lilith moving this time to close the distance between them. This time when she struck out at him, he found the familiar glint of a blade, the blade he had given her before she officially joined the family. “Trying to kill a family member? Oh, Lilith, I will enjoy punishing you for this." 

"Family? Fuck you! The only person you fucking care about is your fucking self!” She seethed, successfully landing a glancing blow with her blade across the left side of his face. “You go on and on about how we’re a family,” she swung out with the blade, Lucien smoothly evading her attack as hot tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. “How we should look after our fellow siblings but that’s not even true! You only care about the brotherhood’s fucking image! And the fuck mothering night mother who allows her children to be slaughtered like lambs by one of their own! Some Mother she is,” Lilith cried out as Lucien tackled her over, thankfully catching herself before her head smacked against the floor again. 

“You disrespect the night mother in my home,” Lilith spit in his face, earning another searing slap from the back of his hand. “She is our unholy matron, the guiding hand to which we all flock, and follow, and you dare say she does not care. That we should not praise her name,” his right hand wrapped around her throat, “should not respect and her and the wrath of sithis!?” Her hands remained at her side as his other hand wrapped around her neck. Her vision began to darken with the tightening of his grip and the erratic beating of his heart. Closing her eyes she felt hot tears trickle down her cheeks, ready to die, ready to find Martin in the afterlife only for the vice grip around her throat to disappear. Despite her attempt at trying to control her breathing,  she gasped as her lungs burned painfully. Blinking, her vision cleared enough for her to look up at Lucien, finding him watching her intently, several emotions swirling in his dark eyes. “You were going to let me kill you,” her eyes pinched shut at the way his voice trembled. 

“Yes,” she agreed softly, making no move to push him off of her, Lucien hovering above on his hands and knees. 

“You were going to let me kill you despite how much it would hurt our family. How much it would hurt Vicente, and Antonietta. How much it would hurt Teinaava and Mathieu. You would let me kill you despite how much you know it would hurt me. Why,” his left hand closed painfully around the lower half of her face, forcing her to open her eyes, “why?”

“Because I love him!” She seethed, the pain in her face causing her eyes to sting with tears. “Because none of this means anything without him! You think I care about them enough to here, to hurt like this? Do you think I fucking care about you enough to feel like this?” Her voice rose with every word she spoke, her arms moving quickly to enunciate her point. “I love him more than anything else and you-," 

"Get out.” Lilith blinked once than twice at Lucien’s whispered words. 

“What,” she gasped in surprise as Lucien’s left hand closed painfully tight around her upper right bicep before he hauled her to her feet and dragged her through his home. “Lucien, let me go, you’re hurting me-,” she tumbled as they made it to the front door and Lucien threw it open before shoving her out the front door. Lilith hissed as she landed on her hands and knees, having not had a  chance to steady herself after he yanked her off the floor. Rolling into a seated position she growled, a set of keys hit her in the sternum, her right hand moving to catch them before they fell to the floor. 

“Get the fuck off my property and stay off of it. That includes this house, my place in the city, the restaurant, and the sanctuary. Not only are you suspended indefinitely but if I hear one of our own breath a word of even seeing you outside one of those places, the black hand WILL hear about what you did here today and you will be punished. Do I make myself clear,” gritting her teeth together against the tears, Lilith nodded affirmatively. “Good,” with that, Lucien slammed the door in her face. Lilith sat for a moment longer before pushing herself unsteadily to her feet and making her way across the courtyard to the only car that was not locked away in one of Luciens garages. It was his normal every day use car, Shadowmare. Lilith had only managed to get into the car before bursting into tears once more. She was tired of this. Tired of the constant pain she felt knowing that she had failed Martin. Had failed the whole Septim line. Knowing that the man she had loved more than she had ever loved another was dead and she would never see him again. Tired of living. Taking several calming breaths, she pulled the sleeves of her shirt down to wipe away her tears. If Lucien wouldn’t do it for her and with the hand being aware of her desire for death, Lilith headed to the place she knew Lucien wouldn’t be and the place where no one would question her purchases of poisons. The Sanctuary. Lilith wondered briefly if she would feel worse for putting M'raaj in Lucien’s path of fury if he had been nicer to her from the start before she went through the alley behind the Lucky Light, the restaurant that the sanctuary used as a front. Tapping several bricks in the correct order, the wall opened up, revealing a set of steps that led directly down in the sanctuary. Sticking to the shadows, Lilith closed her eyes and listened. She could only hear one heart beat, recognizing the way they breathed as M'raaj. Sending up a prayer of thanks to whatever God was kind enough to make sure the sanctuary was empty of her siblings and its resident vampire, Lilith quickly moved through the sanctuary, finding M'raaj in the alchemy room. 

“Just the man I was looking for,” she spoke in a way of greeting, ignoring the way M'raaj’s lips tugged down in a frown. 

“If it isn’t our newest sister,” he didn’t even glance up from the potion he was working on as he spoke, “whatever can I do for you.” Stealing her face, Lilith allowed her gaze to move over the vials of elixirs and potions casually, 

“I have recieved a contract from speaker lachance. I need a poison that is used by the Dawnguard to slay vampires. The contract requires a bit of subterfugation,” M'aarj nodded, absently, his focus already moving from her to the potion she needed. 

“Here,” he held it out of her, Lilith doing her best to seem casual despite her eagerness. “If you’re efficient, half a vial should get the job done. It will slow their healing abilities, making them more susceptible to being killed by blood loss or another form of death.” Taking the vial, Lilith slipped out the same way she had come before heading home. Her thumb rubbed over the vial, a sad smile pulling at her lips as her thoughts moved to Martin and seeing again. 'Soon.’ Lilith moved through her apartment on auto pilot, slipping off Mathieus jacket and throwing it across the back of her couch before moving to bedroom. First things first, she tugged off Mathieus clothes, and moved through her room to her closet. Finding one of Martin’s oversized t shirts on the floor, she pulled it on, stifling a sob when his familiar smell wafted over her. Taking several calming breaths, Lilith broght the shirt to her nose, and inhaled deeply. Soon. Soon she’d be able to smell him and see him. Stepping out out of her room and into her attacked bathroom, Lilith placed the vial of poison on the wall shelf next to her soaking tub. Leaning down, she turned on the water before slipping out of the bathroom and heading to the kitchen. Her fingers dragged against her granite counters before she came to her fridge. Opening the door, she pulled out two bottles of sweet red wine, Martin’s favorite, and a brand of wine Lucien had introduced her to. Thinking of Lucien made her frown, her yellow eyes glazing over as she swirled the wine in the bottle around. Shaking herself out, she moved to the cabinet next to the fridge on the wall and fished out a large wine goblet, her mind once more moving to Martin and Lucien. She could almost smell the creamy gumbo Lucien had made, Lilith leaning against the island in the kitchen while she gulped down her wine, Lucien teasing her about her consumption and lack of sipping. The memory shifted and broke apart as an image of Martin walking into the room, holding a giant brown paper bag from their favorite Dunmer place. He had been super excited when he had seen that she had several sweet red wines and they spent the night going through three bottles and far more food than Lilith thought possible. Moving back to the bathroom, her wine glass and bottle joined the poison on the shelf beside the tub before she bent down to check the water temperature. Happy that the hot water would sooth her, she plugged the bottom of the tub, and popped out one last time to her room. Grabbing her phone and her secret stash of chocolate, she moved back into the bathroom, hesitating when her gaze flickered to the couch, her blade of woe peaking out of her borrowed jacket pocket. Moving across the room, she picked up the blade, continuing into her bathroom. Happy with her set up, she turned off the water in the tub, and unlocked her phone. Shifting through songs, she clicked on her playlist of songs she use to listen to with Martin while they lounged. Sighing softly, she set her phone down, and poured herself a large glass of wine. Stepping into the soaking tub, she submerged herself up to her neck, bringing her wine glass to her lips. Taking several large glasses, she successfully drained her first glass before reaching for her wine bottle. 

“Well I’ve heard there was a secret chord that David played,” he hand trembled as she sang, spilling several drops of wine into the tub. Bringing the partially filled glass to her lips, she drained the glass before throwing it across the bathroom, deciding the bottle was better without the glass. “I remember when I moved in you and the holy dove moving too,” she pulled the bottle to her chest, closing her eyes, and inhaling Martin’s smell. “It’s going to be okay,” she reassured herself, not fearing death but the possibility of not seeing Martin. “He’ll be there,” she continued, finishing off her bottle of wine. Leaning her head back, she found herself becoming comfortable drozy and numb, the hot water causing her skin go flush and body to relax. Reaching out with her left hand, she grabbed the vial, and popped the corked cap off. Running her thumb absently against the rim of the vial, she brought it to her lips, and swallowed it down. The taste of metal and something bitter hit her taste buds and caused her to grimace. Reaching down she grabbed her second bottle of wine, bringing it to her lips, and swooshing a large gulp around her mouth before swallowing. She got half way through her bottle before she exhaled slowly, her lids becoming heavy. Wrapping her left hand around the blade of woe she held it above the water of the tub. A physical manifestation of the moment she had allowed Lucien Lachance  and by extension, the dark brotherhood, into her life. Twirling the blade slowly she shook her head, not wanting to think of the dark haired man or their equally dark family. Pressing the tip of her blade to the middle of her inner wrist, she broke her skin before swiftly dragging it down, stopping just short of the heel of her hand. Her head swam at the sight of her blood and it’s rich scent wafting over her. Taking a shaky breath, she allowed herself a moment to catch her bearings before repeating the action down her right wrist. She had meant to set the blade back on her shelf but found the blade tumbling out of her hand and clinking against the floor. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, softly humming to herself. Her last thoughts before being lulled gently into darkness were of Martin, a sad smile gracing her lips. 'Soon.’ “Hey this is Lily, leave a message after the beep," 

"Beep!” Lucien drummed the leather clad steering wheel nervously, having not heard anything from Lilith for several hours now. 

“You told her not to speak to you or go to the Sanctuary,” he growled at himself, having regretted the way things had gone between them. Pulling up to The Lucky Light, Lucien moved quickly through the front door, not even acknowledging the clients that buzzed around him. Making his way towards the back of the restaurant, he spotted Antonietta and Teinaava leaning against the bar, keeping watchful eyes over their clientele. Changing direction, he stopped before them, their warm greetings ignored. “Have either of you seen Lilith?" 

"No, why, is everything alright?” The change in the pair was immediate, their love for their dark sister reflecting in the way they both paled with worry.

  “Of course,” he lied smoothly, not needing them to throw together a panicked search party. “I was just wondering if she’d been here at all today,” M'jaar, having just exited the kitchen came up short. 

“Yeah, she was here to pick up some poison for a contract earlier.” Lucien felt his blood shift to ice, M'jaar gasping in surprise when Lucien gripped both his biceps tightly. 

“What did she ask you for," 

"It is a specialty poison called Silverite Bane, it slows the healing abilities of vampires, making them easier to- Hey! Where are you going?” Lucien had turned on his heel and darted out the front door, quickly dialing Vicentes number.

  “Lucien, what’s going on?" 

"I need you to meet me at Liliths, now!” He arrived at Lily’s place in under 10 minutes, halfing the time it would normally take to get to there. He sprinted through the lobby, cutting off a couple that had been ahead of him. Stepping into the elevator, he pressed the close button, ignoring the way the pair whined at his actions. He tapped his foot impatiently, watching the floor numbers tick by too slowly. “Come on come on,” he was out of the elevator before the doors had opened completely. Crossing the hall to her apartment, he pounded on the door, “Lilith! Lilith! Open up,” jiggling the knob he found it locked. The logical part of him told him to pick the lock but that didn’t stop him from delivering three solid kicks to the wood, the door swinging open and banging against the wall. “Lilith,” his dark eyes moved quickly around the room, not seeing head nor hair of Lilith. “Lilith,” he repeated, ears perking at the sound of soft music across the home. Following the source, Lucien felt his stomach drop and the air rush from his lungs. “Lily,” he was at her side in an instant, eyes running over the thick rivets of blood that covered her forearm, hands hesitating despite the desire to touch her. Crouching next to the tub, Lucien ran his fingers over her ice cold skin, hot tears prickling when he felt no heartbeat. “Please,” he whimpered painfully, his large hand covering her cheek, turning her face towards him. “I cant lose you now,” especially not after what he has said earlier to her. Eyes widening, he realized that tears had welled in his eyes and begun running down his cheeks. Biting his bottom lip, he forced himself to focus. Summoning magic to his hands, he started by healing the self inflicted slits that ran up her wrists before standing. If he was able to find the vial, he would be able to make an educated guess of what could be used to counteract the poison. He found it under the tub, the vial still having traces of the poison left inside. Raising it to his nose, he inhaled deeply, a grimace pulling at his lip. “Nightshade,” hearing footsteps approaching, Lucien reached out, and picked up the blade that had been sitting on the shelf next to the tub. His mind moved to the traitor. To unwanted company. To… his brain seemed to realize what he was holding and what the dark ichor like substance coating it was. The blade slipped from his hand, clattering against the ground. 

“Lucien," 

"She used the blade I gave her.” Vicentes brows cinched in confusion briefly before his dark eyes dropped to the Blade of Woe on the bathroom floor. “This is my fault, I-,”

“Lucien, please, we can not focus on that right now. We need to help her if we want to save her life. What have you been able to figure out,” looking up, Lucien realized Vicente wasn’t alone. Two healers stood on either side of him, awaiting a nod from Vicente before the crossed the room. 

“She took Silverite Bane. A special kind of poison that stops a vampires regenerative abilities for a time. She took it before she-," 

"We need to get her out of the water,” one of the healers grabbed a large towel off the hooks on the wall while Vicente rolled up his sleeves. Lucien, without concern for the exquisite suit he wore, knelt down and slipped his arms into the water. Carefully he hauled her chilled body from the water while the first healer came forward and wrapped her towel around her. Swinging her up into his arms, he followed the healer out of the bathroom and into Lilith’s bedroom, finding the missing healer already there and mixing together an antidote. 

“Lay her here,” Lucien nodded, setting her down on the right side of the bed, hovering close by when the healer cleared his throat.

“Lucien,” if looks could kill, the healer would have burst into flames and died from the look on Luciens face. “They need room to work," 

"I’m not leaving her,” even as he said the words, he found himself being dragged out of the room. “Vicente, please I-,”

“Hovering will not help her, Lucien. They know what they’re doing,” and so would Lucien, if he took a moment to think. 

“And what, I’m just suppose to trust them? You know our siblings have been dropping like flies, Vicente. And-," 

"And what? You think one of the healers is out to get Lily?” Lucien’s jaw clenched in anger at Vicentes exasperation. “Look, I’ll go sit in with them. While I do that, you stay out here, and try to breathe. If… if the worst comes to pass, you will need to be prepared to tell the others.” Lucien greyed significantly at his words, a small bubble of regret bursting in Vicentes chest. Instead of responding, Lucien turned on his heel and crossed the room to the kitchen, a large bottle of wine being pulled out of the fridge before the younger man crossed into her living room. Signing, Vicente rubbed his face and wandered into the room with Lilith. The healers had already hooked up two units of blood and attached IV’s to her arms. “Were you able to make an antidote,” he could hear the worry in his voice. 

“We believe so but with how much blood she’s lost, we wont know for several hours if it worked. The best that we can do is finish the transfusion and wait.” And so, they waited. It took less than two hours for the transfusions to finish and even less time after for the healers to leave. Lucien, who had decided to stress drink had moved from the living room to her bedroom, dragging one of her love seats across the apartment. Vicente stayed to watch over both of them, the sun rising and setting once before Lucien’s body finally caved under the wine and stress, Vicente finding him fast asleep, half on Lilith bed and half on the love seat, his left hand wrapped tightly around hers. In that time, Vicente watched her ashen skin warm with color but her eyes still had yet to open. When another day passed, Vicente woke Lucien and tried to convince him to leave to get food but the Speaker would not budge and so, he left to get food for them both, his thoughts never leaving his former protege or the killer who stole his heart. 

Lilith awoke not long after Vicente left, her yellow eyes opening slowly. Allowing her eyes go adjust she found herself in her room, her face twisting in confusion. She didn’t remember making it to her room or much of anything else until she glanced down at her left wrist. A faint red line ran up along her vein, reminding her of what she had done. Had the poison failed? No, she had been quite sure it had done exactly what it was suppose to so how was she-, Her yellow eyes drifted down to her right, finding Lucien fast asleep. 

“Lucien,” her head smacked back against her headboard as hot tears slipped down her cheeks. Of course it was fucking Lucien that found her and took care of her. He always seemed to show up when she least wanted him to. She had moved her hands to her face, the action startling Lucien into wakefulness. 

“Lilith,” they stared at each other for a long moment before they both acted. 

“Lucien, I’m so-,” Lilith gasped, Lucien crawling onto the bed, and pulling Lilith towards him. He hadn’t meant to kiss her but he had been so relieved to see her alive and well that his heart took control before he could stop it. Leaning back, Lucien flushed, 

“I uh, I didn’t mean to,” a cool hand on his cheek silenced him. 

“It’s… it’s okay,” her voice lowered, watching the way he held her hand to his face. “Look, Lucien, I-,” sighing she found her right hand moving to absently run over the new scar on her wrist. “I am so sorry, for everything. I didn’t mean,” inhaling deeply, she raised her gaze to his. “I never meant to hurt you,” she corrected, noting the bags under his eyes and the way his hair sat unkempt on top of his head. Shaking his head, Lucien took her wrist in his hand, running his thumb gently up her new scar. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he sighed. “I know I haven’t been there for you through this and I should have been but I-,” a pause, “I let my feelings for you blind me to your feelings. You loved him and if I had paid any attention, I would have seen where you were headed. What you were willing to do to be with him again.” Pausing, his gaze dropped to there joint hands, Lilith sliding her hand into his. “I thought he was a childish distraction from the Brotherhood, from your responsibilities, and… from me. But I promise, from now on, I’ll be here for you, if you’ll have me. We can have you doing noncombative tasks for the brotherhood so you aren’t alone and you could stay at the sanctuary or with Vicente or me or even,” she couldn’t help the small grin at his grimace, “Mathieu. Wherever you feel safe and good,” tears stung her eyes but instead of being caused by sadness they were caused by the realization that she had been blind. Her grief convinced her she was alone, as did Lucien’s cold words but being reminded of her family and the love they held for her, she knew she could make it through this. If not for herself then she would for those who still lived and loved her and Martin, who had loved her and been lost. Looking up at Lucien, a small voice reminded her that Martin may be gone but that didnt mean she could never find someone to care for again. Turning her lips into the hand on her cheek, she kissed his palm, offering him a small watery smile. 

“Thank you, Lucien, for everything.” ReplyForward

[papermoonloveslucy]

LUCY & HENRY FONDA ~ Part One

1935-1968 

Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda were more than just co-workers. When Lucy first got to Hollywood, the two actually briefly dated. Lucy remembers,

"We worked long and hard, Ginger [Rogers] and I, in front of our mirrors. We used eye shadow, plenty of mascara, pancake [make-up], deep red lipstick, rouge, everything we'd been taught in the studio cosmetic department. Then we went out to Brentwood, that's where the boys lived. My date was Fonda. Ginger's date was [Jimmy] Stewart. Henry cooked the dinner, and after we ate, Ginger and the boys turned on the radio in the living room and Ginger tried to teach them ‘The Carioca.’ I was left doing the dishes. When I finished, we went out dancing at the Coconut Grove. Freddie Martin's orchestra. There we were, Ginger and I in our long organdy dresses, looking just as summery and smooth as we could. The date stretched into daybreak. We'd had a hilarious, wonderful evening that came to an end at Barney's Beanery. Well, it was dark and we went in and light when we came out. Hank and Jim took one look at us and said, 'What happened?' We said, 'What do you mean what happened?' And Jimmy Stewart said, 'Well, your nighttime makeup is on awful heavy for this time of the morning.' And Henry Fonda said, 'Yuk!'"

In 1975 Fonda told this story at “The Dean Martin Celebrity Roast” for Lucille Ball. Ginger Rogers was also in attendance. He added that "If I hadn't said, 'Yuk!', if I'd behaved myself, they might have named that studio Henrylu, not Desilu."

Perhaps it is a good thing that Fonda and Ball never married as genealogists point out that they are related - 8th cousins. The pair acted in three feature films together and made numerous television appearances opposite one-another. Curiously, although he was sometimes mentioned, Fonda never guest-starred on a “Lucy” sitcom.  

I Dream Too Much (1935)

Producer: Pandro S. Berman Director: John Cromwell Choreographer: Hermes Pan Screenplay: Elsie Finn (story), David G. Wittels (story), Edmund North Songs: Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields 

Cast: Lily Pons (Annette Monard Street), Henry Fonda (Jonathan Street), Eric Blore (Roger Briggs), Osgood Perkins (Paul Darcy), Lucien Littlefield (Hubert Dilley), Lucille Ball (Gwendolyn Dilley)

Synopsis: Annette Monard Street (Lily Pons) is an aspiring singer, who falls in love with and marries Jonathan Street (Henry Fonda), a struggling young composer. Jonathan pushes her into a singing career, and she soon becomes a star. Meanwhile, Jonathan is unable to sell his music, and he finds himself jealous of his wife's success. Concerned about their relationship, Annette uses her influence to get Jonathan's work turned into a musical comedy. Once she achieves this, she then retires from public life in order to raise a family.

"Lucille replaced Betty Grable, an eighteen-year-old stock player... in the minor role of Gwendolyn Dilley, a bleached-blonde gum-chewer visiting Paris with her parents and little brother.” ~ Kathleen Brady, Lucille

Gwendolyn Dilley (Lucille Ball): "Culture is making my feet hurt."

TRIVIA

At this point in her career, Lucy was a platinum blonde. She had dyed it from her natural mousy brown to get more attention from casting agents and producers. She did not begin coloring her hair its trademark red until the technicolor film Du Barry Was A Lady in 1943.

A brief clip of Lucy in the film is included in “Hollywood the Golden Years: The RKO Story: A Woman's Lot” (1987).  

The Big Street (1942)

Producer: Damon Runyon Director: Irving Reis Screenplay: Leonard Spigelgass, based on the short story “Little Pinks” by Damon Runyon

Cast: Henry Fonda (Little Pinks), Lucille Ball (Gloria Lyons), Barton MacLane (Case Ables), Eugene Pallette (Nicely Nicely Johnson), Agnes Moorehead (Violette Shumberg), Sam Levene (Horsethief), Ray Collins (Professor B)

Uncredited actor Hans Conried played a waiter. On “I Love Lucy” he played Harry Martin in “Redecorating” (S2;E8) and Percy Livermore in “Lucy Hires an English Tutor” (S2;E13), both in 1952. He also did two episodes of “The Lucy Show,” both as her music tutor Dr. Gitterman in 1963.  

'Queen of the Extras' Bess Flowers made numerous uncredited background appearances on both “I Love Lucy” and “The Lucy Show.”  

Uncredited actor Gil Perkins (Mug) later turned up on a 1970 episode of “Here's Lucy” (S2;E21).  

TRIVIA

During filming, Lucy's new husband Desi Arnaz felt so insecure about leaving Lucy and Fonda alone together that he’d often pop by the set to keep an eye on them. His paranoia so exasperated director Irving Reis that he finally banned him from the set.

This was Lucille Ball's favorite of her nearly 80 films. She felt her performance was unjustly ignored by the Academy.

Damon Runyon also created the source material for the hit Broadway musical Guys and Dolls (1950), which starred Robert Alda, who went on to make several appearances on “The Lucy Show.” The two stories share the character of Nicely Nicely Johnson. When the film version was made by MGM in 1955, Lucy and Desi were also under contract to the studio. A brief clip of the film was inserted into the middle of an episode of “I Love Lucy” called “Lucy and the Dummy” (S5;E3), although the clip was removed after its initial airing. Further, when Lucille Ball first came to Hollywood, before becoming a contract player at RKO, she worked for Sam Goldwyn as one of the Goldwyn Girls. In Guys and Dolls, the Hot Box Girls are played by the Goldwyn Girls.

Gloria Lyons (Lucille Ball): “Love is something that gets you one room, two chins, and three kids.”

A brief clip from the film is seen in “Lucy and Desi: A Home Movie.”

“The Good Years” (January 12, 1962)

Produced by: Leland Heyward Directed by: Franklin L. Schaffner

Cast: Lucille Ball, Henry Fonda, Mort Sahl, Margaret Hamilton (Narrator)

Characters included Teddy Roosevelt, Sandow the Bodybuilder, the Wright Brothers, J.P. Morgan, Lizzy Borden   

TRIVIA

This CBS special was billed as 'Lucille Ball's return to television' after leaving Lucy Ricardo behind in April 1960. It would be several more months before the debut of “The Lucy Show” in Fall 1962.   

Based on a best-selling book by Walter Lord first published in 1960 about the years leading up to World War One, the special was a hodge-podge of sketches and musical numbers about the time period 1900 through 1920.

Mort Sahl: “Lucille Ball came into rehearsal. She had a later call and a lot of doubts about the script.”

The 90-minute special was a critical failure and has largely been forgotten. There are few photographs and video copies are held at the Museum of Broadcasting. 

“All About People” (1967)

Director: Saul Rubin

Narrators: Lucille Ball, Henry Fonda, Jack Benny, George Burns, Carol Channing, Eydie Gorme, Charleton Heston, Eartha Kitt, Burt Lancaster, Edward G. Robinson

TRIVIA

This was a 30-minute black and white documentary made by the United Jewish Welfare Fund about its history. 

After marrying Gary Morton (nee Morton Goldapper), Lucille Ball was active in Jewish charities. On December 9, 1961, Lucy had appeared on the “Twelve Star Salute to the Federation of Jewish Philanthropies.” 

Burns, Benny, and Gorme, all later made appearances on “Here's Lucy.” Edward G. Robinson did a cameo on “The Lucy Show.”  

Although Ball and Fonda are both involved in the project, they likely recorded their narration separately. 

Yours, Mine and Ours  (1968)

Producer: Robert F. Blumofe Director: Melville Shavelson Screenplay: Melville Shavelson and Mort Lachman, with story by Bob Carroll Jr. and Madelyn Davis (Lucy’s TV writers), based on the book Who Gets The Drumsticks? by Helen Eileen Beardsley

Cast: Lucille Ball (Helen North Beardsley), Henry Fonda (Frank Beardsley), Van Johnson (Darrel Harrison)

Nancy Howard (Nancy Beardsley) made three appearances on “Here's Lucy.” Tim Matheson (Mike Beardsley) made an appearance on a 1972 “Here's Lucy” playing Kim Carter’s boyfriend. 

Uncredited extras Leon Alton, Paul Bradley, Charles Cirillo, George Boyce, Paul King, Joseph LaCava, and Leoda Richards all made numerous background appearances on “The Lucy Show” and “Here's Lucy.”

Synopsis: A widower with ten children falls for a widow with eight, and they must decide about forming a huge, unconventional family.

TRIVIA

Jane Fonda claimed that her father was deeply in love with Lucy and that the two were "very close" during the filming of Yours, Mine and Ours but that Lucy wasn't in love with him.

After purchasing the rights to the book the film was based on, Lucille Ball became very close to the real Beardsleys and even treated the whole family to a vacation at Disneyland. 

In 1959, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, still affiliated with MGM, were going to star as Frank and Helen Beardsley but the studio had trouble with the casting until the late 1960s. In addition, their marriage was then on the rocks, a situation which would have made working together on the optimistic comedy somewhat problematic.

Lucy's old friend John Wayne was initially considered to play Frank Beardsley. The role was cast with Fred MacMurray, but he was replaced by Henry Fonda.  

Frank (Henry Fonda): “I don't quite understand. Am I being stupid?” Helen (Lucille Ball): “No, you're being a man. Which is sometimes the same thing.”

Lucille Ball co-produced the film under her company, Desilu Productions. When the film became a surprise smash hit grossing over $17 million on a $2.5 million investment, she hadn't anticipated the film's huge box-office success and failed to provide a tax shelter for her personal profits, resulting in most of her earnings going toward taxes.

The success of the film led to Lucy being considered to play Mrs. Brady in “The Brady Bunch,” a TV sitcom with a similar story of a blended family. Lucy decided to do her own sitcom, “Here's Lucy,” instead.

In 1968, Van Johnson guest starred on “Here's Lucy” as both himself and an impostor look-alike in “Guess Who Owes Lucy $23.50” (HL S1;E11). The dialogue contained references to Yours, Mine and Ours and their co-star Henry Fonda.

Van Johnson Impostor: “I loved working with that kooky redhead.” Lucy Carter: “Personally, I thought she was much too young for Henry Fonda.”

Johnson was in the cast of Too Many Girls, the film which introduced Lucy to Desi in 1940. Johnson also guest-starred on “I Love Lucy” in “The Dancing Star” (S4;E27) in 1955.

Click Here for Part Two: 1975 to 1979!

[spoopyghostgirl]

So, this is a one shot that takes place in my Modern Oblivion AU

The HoK/Silencer is my OC, Lilith (Lily) Corbeau

Pairing: Lucien Lachance X Silencer, Lucien Lachance X HoK, Martin Septim X HoK

Word Count: 2,376

Warm lips. Soft blue eyes. Wet paint on flushed tan skin. Her fingers glided across his bare stomach and up his chest, spreading the slick orange paint from navel to neck. Her canvas smiles, quirking a dark brow, her hand absently moving to hold her jaw.

"Another master piece," his voice, warm and kind, held a hint of bemusement. Smiling, her hand moved from her face, leaving small rust colored spots on her jaw, before lightly grazing up the side of his face. Closing his eyes, he felt the cool slickness of paint spread across the right side of his face, nuzzling gently into her touch. "Improving upon what's already there," he ventured at her continued silence, warm lips fluttering across her palm. Golden eyes moved over the landscape she created across his chest, the skyline a mixture of orange, red, and purple. Several tall structures jutted up into the skyline, mirroring the towering city scape that made up their home town. Pulling her eyes from her work she offered Martin a warm smile, his cheeks coloring at the affection in her golden gaze.

"Improve you?" Her lips quirked, "now that is impossible." Pushing away her wooden palette, she leaned forward, brushing her nose with his. Martin shudder, eyes slipping shut as her lips feathered across his own. Swallowing and with his eyes still pinched shut, he spoke.

"Listen, Lily I-," blankets shifting, the pair jumped, her wooden palette slapping loudly against the wooden floor. Gold met blue, Liliths eyes wide with panic while Martins reflected disappointment.

"I- I should clean that up," she spoke nervously, pushing herself up from her bed and off the blushing imperial. "And you should-," Martin's jaw clenched, already knowing what to expect from her.

"I should get cleaned up and leave." His voice held none of the warmth that had been there moments before. Keeping her back to him, she knelt down, deft fingers wrapping around the paint splattered palette. "Right," Martin left her there in a flurry, not even moving to clean the paint off his chest before he tugged on his plain black t and jacket. Hot tears pinpricked in her eyes before she hurled the palette across the room, grimacing when it shatter and splintered in pieces.

Yellow eyes opening, her lips pressed together once more. Her gaze fluttered over the very landscape she had painted across her lovers- former lovers, chest. Though the sun had come and passed, the night sky was littered with stars, making up for the lack of swirling color. It was beautiful, she could admit, reminding her as to why she had stayed within the city despite its grueling traffic and constant buzz of life. Glancing down at the flute of wine in her hand, her lips pursed, her thoughts moving to the conversation that was had leading up to her withdrawal from Martin. 'Jauffre,' she grimaced at the mans name.

"You need to be careful with the friends you keep," she had laughed at the police chiefs words, a single brow arching. She hadn't understood until then how much he knew of the illicit activites she had recently taken up. "You think that when it's discovered what you've been doing... who you've been working for comes to light that they won't target the ones you love?" Her heart had caught in her throat, his words clicking together in a way that both infuriated and terrified her. Clearing her throat, she had tried to play it off, feigning ignorance, pointing out that she had become a sanguinite because of Martin. Jauffre had stepped closer to her then, yellow eyes flickering with panic when his left hand closed tightly around her wrist, mere centimeters away from the dagger she had been gifted from her Speaker. "I do not appreciate you playing coy when his life is on the line," fangs flashing, she wretched herself from Jauffres grasp.

"You have some nerve-," she began, her muscles moving in reflex when he stepped towards her once more. The blade of woe flashed in the dim light of the room, its blade biting lightly into the flesh of his throat. Jauffres eyes had widened in surprise before his face shifted into one of smug self satisfaction.

"You can play pretend all you want, child, but if I was smart enough to put two and two together, who's to say others will not?" She had whirled on her heel then, blade being slipped back into its place in her sleeve before the door to his office slammed shut behind her.

Lips pursed, she worked her jaw, trying to calm her boiling anger. Finding no release, her grasp on her flute of wine shifted before it went soaring from the balcony she stood upon. She watched it break in half before shattering on the pavement several stories below her place perched on the balcony.

"Did the wine offend you, dear sister?" She jumped at his voice, whirling away from the skyline to face him. Luciens lips quirked, having not had many opportunities to sneak up on the newest member of the brotherhood. Gold eyes briefly held his own chocolate gaze before moving past him.

"It seems the party continues on without us," she offered up when she realized Lucien had no intention of leaving. Turning back to her view of the sky, Lucien stepped away from the door leading back inside, his dark eyes running over her profile. He had found her beautiful from the first moment he had looked upon her and that had led down a very complicated path. A path that led to awkward silences and loss eye contact that had once been filled with easy smiles and late nights in his kitchen cooking.

"So it seems," he had yet to cross to stand beside her, opting to linger a safe distance away. "Though I am unsurprised, what the wuth company you've been choosing to keep." Her back straightened, gold eyes snapping to his face, a single brow arching.

"And what ever is that suppose to mean, Speaker?" She had sneered his title, something he had never witnessed. Responding in kind, Lucien stepped closer, dark eyes flashing.

"You know exactly who I am referring to." Liliths jaw clenched, gold eyes moving away from his furious face. "The detective," 'your former lover', lucien had left the words unsaid but the implication was missed.

"I didnt realize the Night Mother was so worried about the company her children keep." He had reached for her then, his fingers barely grazing her jaw before she pulled away. "Or are your concerns over him more personal?" His cheeks warmed, though in embarrassment or anger, she couldn't tell.

"I have no idea what you speak of, dear sister," he growled, dark eyes flashing dangerously. "But you are well aware of what the dark hand thinks of the company your keeping. Of the implications it says about you and the trust that we can put into you." In an instant she had spun to face him, yellow eyes flashing black.

"You dare question my loyalty, after everything I've done for you, for our family!" Her voice lowered, gold eyes flickering to the solid glass doors that separated them from her familial party and unwanted attention.

"Of course not, dear sister," a sneer, "it just isn't wise to have loose ends. If something were to happen to you, if your loyalty came in to question, who is to say that I- that we, could continue turning a blind eye?"

Crack!

Liliths palm stung from the force of the slap. Scarlet stained her Speakers cheek, her mouth opening and closing once before he was on her.

"You dare raise a hand to me," his right hand wrapped tightly around her throat, back pressed firmly to the railing behind her. "I am a Speaker of the black hand, your superior," he seethed, left hand catching her right hand and holding it beside her head.

"I do not care who you are! No one threatens the man that I-," Luciens lips silenced her declaration. He could not bare to think that the woman he had given his heart to had already given hers to another. Gold eyes pinching shut, Lilith reciprocated the kiss roughly. Her teeth bit into his bottom lip, the hand he had loosened around her throat moved to her hair and pulled. She gasped, his tongue finding purchase in her mouth. Goosebumps spread over her arms, the sweet taste of him and his blood in her mouth causing her to growl with need. Luciens hands slid down, running between her shoulder blades and now her back, down to her bare legs. His warm hands had just grazed her legs, pushing the silk fabric of her dress away when she shoved him away. "Dont you dare touch me," she growled, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide. "I dont belong to you or your fucking mother!" Lucien laughed humorlessly, making no move to touch the furious girl.

"That is where you are wrong, dearest sister. When you slayed Rufio you became one of us. You belong to the Night Mother body and soul." Hot tears blurred her vision,

"I hate you." Her voice trembled but she pressed on. "And if you or any of your family even thinks of harming a single hair on his head, I'll kill you." Lucien trembled, brown eyes flashing black. Lilith felt the smallest flicker of fear, mind absently moving to the blade of woe strapped to her thigh, mere centimeters from where his hands had just been on her.

"And then what, dearest sister? Where do you think you'd go where the brotherhood wouldn't find you. Where I wouldn't find you?" Pinching his eyes shut, Lucien took a single calming breath, "I will allow your words this evening to go unpunished. I know how much you care for... him and how difficult it will be to let him go but I can not stand by idly while you endanger my family."

"I dont need your special treatment, Speaker." She spat, "nor do I need your approval. If the other members of the black hand or the listener found my behavior or company problematic, they would be here but they're not which leads me to believe that it's only you who has a problem. And you're,"

"Your speaker." He growled, "and you will do as you are told."

"Lucien, that is quite enough,"

"Matheiu." Lilith spoke the young mans name softly, the murder of Speaker Blanchard still fresh in her mind.

"Speaker Bellamont," Lucien scowled, having remembered how taken with Lilith the Silencer turned Speaker had been.

"Speaker Lachance," Mathieu, unfazed by the sharp glare directed at him turned a charming smile on their fair sister. "Dearest Lily, I believe Antonietta is looking for you. You should go find her before she finds you out here alone with him." Lilith nodded her thanks to Mathieu, stopping briefly to squeeze his shoulder, both in thanks and comfort, before slipping between the glass doors he'd come through. "Trouble in Paradise," Lucien had turned to follow after Lilith only to stop, his teeth grinding together.

"And what, pray tell dear brother, do you mean by that?" Mathieu leaned back against the railing, honeyed gaze moving from the dark sky to his fuming brother.

"Oh, just something myself and some of our other siblings have noticed about you and our dearest Lily." He told himself he wouldn't take the bait, wouldn't be tricked into an argument with the younger man but-,

"Talking about me behind my back, Bellamont? How unbecoming of you," Lucien smirked. Bellamont, unfazed by the dig, pressed on.

"You seem rather fond of her, no?" He arched a brow, his question rhetorical but necessary. "But she does not seem to return your affection. It would be unfortunate for you and our family for the black hand to believe that you would use your position to force yourself upon her." Luciens eyes widened as he whirled to face the younger man. "And to threaten her position within the family because she took a lover that isn't you," he clicked his tongue. "Very unbecoming of you, Lachance." Lucien crossed the balcony in five quick steps, his already dark eyes swirling black.

"I would hate to think that you were threatening me, dear brother." Lucien mocked, Mathieu looking up at him, seemingly unfazed by the invasion of space.

"Threaten you? Come now, Lucien, I am aware of the tenants. I would never harm my dear big brother," sipping from his champagne Bellamont continued, "I just wanted to give you some friendly advice. Until her relationship with the Detective becomes a problem, you need to be careful. You never know who could be listening in," with that, Bellamont drained his flute, and brushed by Lucien. "Alas, it would seem it's time to return to the party. It would do good for you to mingle with the guests, brother, many of those inside fund our organization." Pausing at the door, Mathieu rolled his eyes, finding Lucien had taken his place leaning against the railing. "I see you still need a minute," with that the glass door clicked shut. Lucien sighed, right hand slipping into his suit jacket to retrieve his phone. He knew Bellamont was right, a small petty part of him protesting the sentiment, but he needed to be careful. Needed to tread lightly. With rumors of a traitor in their midst, it would not bode well to get turning his siblings against him. With several quick clicks, he had pulled up her contact. He could message her now, apologize before things could get worse or-, shaking his head, Lucien locked the screen and tucked the device back into his suit jacket. Any apology he would offer now would be half assed, his cheek still stinging from the slap, his finger tips grazing over the tender flesh absently. No, he would think of something meaningful to show her how sorry he was And, show her that he was the better choice for her. Smirking to himself he slipped back into the penthouse, a charming smile on his face, and a plan in mind. 'Now to find Vicente and win the heart of our darling dark sister.'

[spoopyghostgirl]

Oblivion Fanfiction

Title: My Immortal

Chapter: Two

Pairing: Martin Septim X oc X Lucien Lachance

Words: 4228

Stay for as long as you have time

So the mess that we'll become

Leaves something to talk about

Just lay in the atmosphere

A casual affair

Arenbelle panted, violet eyes narrowed at the man before her. Ysgamor groaned, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet, light eyes flashing.

"You," he growled, surprised to find the elf from 20 years ago standing before him, her face unchanged. "We spared you, why, why would you come here and stand against me?" Arenbelle wiped the blood off her chin, violet eyes moving around the large throne room, a cat like grin on her face.

"You, spare me?" She laughed, ignoring the man who had come up behind her, a large smirk on his face. "No, you... you are a beast! An animal! You killed my parents, my family! You murdered and enslaved my people! And for what," her voice cracked, a warm hand on her shoulder causing her to jump.

"You're screaming, Belle," hot tears streamed down her cheeks, her hands balling into tight fists. Stepping back, Arenbelle forced herself to breathe, dark eyes moving from the graying man.

"And what? Did you come here to avenge your people?" Arenbelle smirked, stalking closer to the grey haired man, her violet eyes narrowed in anger. "You think killing me will bring them back? That it will fill the void in your heart?" Arenbelle flashed her teeth in anger,

"They did nothing!" She shouted, "they were innocent! And you slaughtered them! There were women and children who had NOTHING to do with the attack on your people! When I let you live I thought you'd just leave! Youd continue on with your lives but no, you had to come back. You had to kill my family and hunt down my people like they were animals. And now," she chuckled, a dark and menacing sound, "now I will get the revenge I deserve." Arenbelle knelt down, Ysgamors blue eyes watching as the elf bent down, plucking up the ebony axe he had dropped.

"You think you'll get away with this? You are surrounded! My men will storm this castle and all of you and your friends will be eradicated." Ysgamor's smirk widened, his blue eyes moving past Arenbelle, Valerica and another member of their clan sliding into the room.

"They're coming, Arenbelle," Varick frowned at his sister, finding her blue eyes focused on the snow elf. "You have to do it now," turning, Arenbelle smiled, twirling the battle axe in her hand.

"What do you think you're-," Ysgamor gasped, Arenbelle swinging the blade out, a large diagonal gash spreading across his chest. Ysgamor groaned, throwing himself back, knocking over the golden throne he had sat upon. Smiling, Arenbelle kicked the throne out of the way, Ysgamors blue eyes falling on a large run carved into the ground. "What is-,"

"It is a gate to my master," Arenbelle interrupted. "Or more specifically, a gate to his realm," Ysgamor's brows knit together in confusion.

"Auriel?" Arenbelle laughed, her head shaking from side to side, violet eyes holding a rage that Ysgamor had never seen in a man or mers eyes.

"Oh no no no, for he forsook my people and in turn, forsook yours as well. Now my master, the only man I have ever yearned to serve, will be appeased in the blood of you and your people." Ysgamors eyes dropped to an eight pointed star that hung from the womans neck, the daedric prince with whom it associated with flashing across his name.

"Molag Bal!" He shouted, Arenbelle smiled genuinely, Ysgamor pushing himself to his feet. Laughing, Arenbelle marched forward to meet him, her right foot connecting with his chest. Groaning, Ysgamor landed flat on his back, within the seal upon the floor.

"Yes," she stepped forward once more, placing her left foot on the mans abdomen. "His name was once what freed me and now, it will be the name to condemn you." Ysgamor screamed, Arenbelle raising the ebony axe high and slamming it into his chest. A bright red light suddenly burst through the room, briefly blinding the snow elf before it died.

"ARENBELLE!" Valerica shouted, Arenbelle squinting as she glanced over her shoulder, her tan skin suddenly a milky white color.

"Valer-," she hadn't even finished the womans name before a sharp pain ripped through her whole body and she screamed.

Arenbelle awoke upon a stone alter, her violet eyes opening, finding herself laying below a cloudless black sky. Her violet eyes narrowed, a light throbbing in her skull causing her to reach out and tenderly massage her temples. Freezing, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her violet eyes moving from her lap to a dark figure that loomed before her.

"It seems you have finally awoken, my dark queen," a deep voice spoke affectionately, Arenbelle's violet eyes locking with a glowing pair of red ones. Sliding back across the pillar, Arenbelles pale hand wrapped around a large stone that rested on the alter beside her.

"Who are you," she kept her voice level despite the way her heart pounded in her chest. Chuckling the darkness shifted, Arenbelles violet eyes widening when they landed on a far too familiar face. "Gelebor," the man chuckled, shaking his head from side to side, his deep red eyes piercing through her. "No... you merely wear his face," Gelebors look alike smiled fondly, coming to a stop short of standing before her seated form.

"You are correct, I figured you deserved a reward for what you have done for me. The face of the man you love and a night of passion from the Father of Coldharbour himself." Her eyes widened, both in fear and recognition.

"My lord-," he raised a hand, silencing the suddenly fearful woman.

"You have nothing to fear, my dearest Belle. You have done nothing but please me. I am merely returning the favor. You will be the first to receive my gift, for you will one day bare my champion, and for performing yet another service for me, and for being such a good servant I will make sure this is an enjoyable experience for you." He held out a hand to her, Arenbelles violet eyes moving between his hand and his glowing red eyes. Gulping, Arenbelle placed her hand in his, gasping when he yanked her to her feet, suddenly pressing his firm body against hers. "Yes, you will do. My perfect queen," he mused outloud, more to himself that to the fearful elf. Running his hand down her cheek, Molag Bal grinned, sharp fangs peeking out of his pale lips. "Lean your head for me," Arenbelle forced her body to move, presenting her pale neck to her master. "What a good girl, yes, I will make sure to reward you for your good behavior." His lips skimmed over her back, Arenbelle shivering from the chill. Pressing her back against the alter, Molag crawled on top of her, his mouth moving down her neck and shoulder. Arenbelle allowed him to pull her legs apart, the armor she had been wearing in the castle vanishing under his moving hands. Arenbelle shivered, his fangs dragging lightly down her shoulder to her breast, his left hand sliding down between her legs. Arenbelle moaned, his middle finger finding her clit while his tongue swirled around her left nipple.

"Master," she moaned deeply, cheeks flushing pink. Molag grinned, relishing in her willingness to be dominated by him. "Masted pl-please, faster-," her voice cracked, her orgasm coming faster than the dark prince believed it would. The first waves of her orgasm had just hit when Molag Bals fangs descended, suddenly burying themselves deeply in the elfs breast. Arenbelle screamed in both pleasure and pain until it became too much and she found herself being swallowed by a hazy darkness.

Arenbelle awoke, a pained groan leaving her lips.

"Belle," a concerned voice spoke, Arenbelle gasping in surprise, finding a pair of red eyes staring back at her. "Hey, you're okay, it's me," Varicks cool hand wrapped around her own. Arenbelle sighed, reaching up and rubbing her own pair of glowing vampire eyes. "Are you arlight?" She nodded, glancing around the dimly lit room. She could make out Ysgamors dead body behind Varick before her eyes cut across, landing on Valerica, tears in her own vampiric gaze.

"We did it," Arenbelle smiled, Valerica offering her an unconvincing smile.

"No, my love... you did it. You avenged your people and appeased our master. You are the reason we have been given the gift we sought after for so long. You are our champion, our queen,"

'Coldharbour.'

The name flashed across her mind, red eyes moving to Varick, who was watching her closely.

"Coldharbour?" He questioned, Arenbelle nodding affirmatively.

"Yes, it is what our master wishes. We will create a kingdom, a haven for our people, and we will thrive. We will chase back those who wish to destroy our people and we will never let what happened to my people happen again."

Arenbelle moved across the once great city of Windhelm, the city littered with dead bodies. 'Ten thousand people,' Arenbelle looked them over blankly, knowing that those who fell, deserved to. 'All dead in one night, thanks to the actions of their king.' She grimaced at the irony, coming to a stop when she came upon the stables that sat outside the city.

"Arenbelle," her red eyes landed on a dark haired vampire, Valerica having come out of the stable, red eyes filled with tears. Arenbelle moved without thought, a cool hand pressing against Valericas cheek.

"Valerica, what's wrong? Are you hurt," Valerica shook her head, red eyes moving to meet Arenbelles only to stop short.

"Everything alright here?" Varrick came up behind the white haired elf, glowing eyes narrowed at his frowning sister.

"Yes, everything is fine, dear brother." Varrick nodded, looking expectantly to Arenbelle. Arenbelle didnt look convinced, glancing between the pair of siblings before sighing.

"If you're sure, Val," she nodded,

"Now come on, Belle. We must find the perfect place for our new home." Arenbelle nodded, following after Varrick, finding herself looking over her shoulder at the mans younger sister. 'We will continue this later,' her eyes spoke, Valerica offering the faintest of nods in response.

"Of course, my love, to Coldharbour."

It had been several hundred years. Coldharbour, named after the great realm of their master, had flourished into a thriving city of ritualistic worship and dark magic. It was everything their master had hoped it would be and the kingdoms king and queen could not be prouder of their accomplishments, and yet, they still wanted more. Still needed to further their reach and so, they selected one who they could trust to marry into a family of wealthy aristocrats that craved immortality. A long standing clan of worshippers that their master had held out on giving the dark gift to. The Volkihar clan.

"Valerica, you will be the key to uniting our kingdoms and furthering our reach."

Arenbelle could still picture the shock on the vampires face, having not expected to be pawned off, and shipped away for an arranged marriage. Arenbelles lips pursed, still clearly able to picture the betrayal she had felt, written closely across her pale face.

"Its for the best, my love," Arenbelles eyes pinched shut, remembering the words she had spoken softly to the other woman. Valerica broke eye contact with the woman, hot tears pooling in her eyes. "Val, please-,"

"Is it not bad enough that you married my brother? Now you're sending me away from you?" Arenbelle gulped, unsure how to respond to the womans distress.

"You know I wouldn't be doing this unless I thought it was for the best." She avoided the obvious bait, the pair having sung the same old song several times before. "We need this foothold. If anything were happen to the kingdom we have here, we would need another home for our people to flock to. Somewhere where you and our future children could be safe," Valerica grimaced at the thought of her nieces and nephews and her own possible future children.

"Somewhere where I can no longer hold you," Arenbelle reached out to tenderly stroke her cheek, a lump forming in her throat.

"I know my love but this isn't the end. Everything will work out the way its suppose to and we will be together once more soon."

Arenbelle sighed, reaching up and rubbing the area under her eyes. She hadn't been able to keep her promise to Valerica, the pair having gone almost sixty years without seeing each other. 'But it is for the best,' she mused, reaching up and running a hand through her long white hair, her thoughts moving to the man that she knew was becoming to problematic to allow to continue living.

"Tiber Septim," she spoke his name aloud, knowing that she would be leaving soon to speak with him. 'I will not allow him to continue what Ysgamor started,' pushing herself to her feet, she turned to the man she had heard approaching.

"My Queen," the snow elf spoke, red eyes running over the ever calm ruler of his kingdom. "We have recieved word back from the man," she reached out, pulling the parchment he clutched in his hands from him. Reading it over, she grinned, red eyes locking with his own.

"Well then, Legalos, it would appear we have a meeting with one Tiber Septim to attend. Send word to my husband that I will be leaving at sundown."

Arenbelle sighed, leaning her head back and looking up into the cloudy night sky.

"An oath," her mind moved back to the conversation she had with Tiber Tiber Septim, the smirk on his face reflecting in his sunny blue eyes.

"Yes, a blood pact. It would tie our family lines together until the last Septim or Corbeau fall." Arenbelle kept her poker face in check, Tiber turning away from her, pacing back towards the throne within his personal chambers. "That and your services for the conquest," her vampiric gaze narrowed, Tiber continuing without missing a beat. "That shouldn't be a problem for someone of your stature, after all, I have heard the great tale of how a mysterious snow elf had the last laugh. Killing Ysgamor in his own throne room? Impressive. Eliminating the whole settlement of Windhelm? Now that is an impressive feat. I wish to utilize the power you showed to stomp out those that stand against me. I want to unite the people of Tamriel under one banner and lead them into a brighter future, a United future." Arenbelle thanked Molag that Legolas had been kept outside the chambers, knowing that he would have a fit if he were to know what she was about to swear. 'Its for the best,' she repeated to herself, making her way across the room to stand directly before Tiber.

"I will do as you request as long as you swear in blood that you will quit your persecution of my people and under my reign, I will make sure that those within my kingdom do not try to bring my lords realm into this one again." Tiber smirked, standing as well, stepping closer to the young woman, a catlike grin spreading across his lips.

"It is Atmoran culture," she could only arch a brow before he leaned down, pressing his warm lips against hers.

"I cant believe I let him kiss me," her cheeks heated unnaturally, a small smile gracing her lips. 'Though, I can appreciate his directness.'

"Your highness," her gaze was pulled from the sky, Legolas standing before her. Smiling lightly, she watched Legolas' frown deepen, the younger vampire having learned about the pact she was about to take. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course I do. Its for the best. If our people are to continue to live, sacrifices and deals must be made." Shaking his head, Legolas offered her a hand, pulling the sitting woman to her feet.

"Fine, but if you get in there and things start going down hill, just scream and I will tear him apart." Arenbelle smiled, reaching out and grabbing Legolas's hand.

"Thank you, Leo, I appreciate your continued loyalty and service." Legolas smiled warmly, Arenbelle stepping ahead of him, red eyes running over the nordic structure. It was a large half circle, Arenbelle moving through the large stone structure to the middle, finding Tiber Septim already waiting inside.

"Thank you for join us, your highness," A man she did not recognize spoke from beside Tiber, a passive smile on his face. "I will be performing the ceremony to bind your families together. If you would join us within the circle," her vampiric gaze ran over the simple circle, finding off nordic writing running along its border. "The ritual itself is quite simple. You will both have your palms sliced open and feed blood into this goblet. I will then bind your bleeding hands together and you will both drink from the cup of blood. From there a marking will appear upon both of you, marking you as a pair. Both of your future children will bare the mark and will continue on and on until your family lines fade into nothing." Arenbelle nodded, Tiber watching her closely, blue eyes betraying none of his feelings to her. "Then we will begin," he produced a nordic dagger from his cloak, placing it handle down in Tibers hand. "Your highness, you hand," she placed the back of her open hand in the palm of the priest's hand. "Tiber, sire," he looked into her vampiric gaze.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" She couldnt hide the surprise upon her face, not expecting the man to care. She paused for a moment, red eyes meeting his,

"Yes." He wasted no time, ripping the blade across her flesh. Arenbelle hissed, the priest producing a golden goblet, her red eyes fixating on the blood as it dripped into the goblet.

"Perfect, and now you, your highness," Tiber held out the blade to her, regret evident in his glowing blue eyes.

"Don't make such a sad face, Tiber, this is a necessity." He grimaced but nodded, offering his hand to the white haired woman. Arenbelle pressed the tip of the blade gently against the center of his palm, their eyes meeting. Tiber gave a nod, Arenbelle having waited for his consent before smoothly dragging the blade across his palm. Tiber grimaced, Arenbelle gently tilting his hand so his blood ran into the chalice.

"Are you alright," Arenbelle nodded, having obtained almost perfect control over her thirst.

"Fresh blood does not effect me the way that it would a fledging," she informed, finger tips dragging absently around Tibers open wound. The priest hesitated briefly before nodding,

"Now then, the two of you will clasp hands." Tiber held up his hand, Arenbelle carefully pressing their bleeding palms together. Turning around, the priest placed the chalice down on the alter behind him before picking up a white ribbon. "With this ribbon I bind the two of you together and with your blood, you bind your bloodlines together." Warmth spread up Arenbelles arm, "Tiber Septim, do you swear to spare the remaining snow elves. Do you swear to spare those who Arenbelle rules over, and do you swear to uphold your half of the oath until your bloodline falls and crumbles to dust?" Tiber nodded, too overwhelmed by the sudden intense beating of his heart. "And do you, Arenbelle Corbeau, swear to uphold your half of the oath? To serve Tiber Septim with your life and for your bloodline to continue serving his long after his death, until both of your blood lines fall and crumble to dust?" Arenbelle stared into the dark haired mans eyes, suddenly being overwhelmed with an emotion she could not place.

"I do," Tiber took the chalice as it was offered, raising it to Arenbelles lips, and watching her take a generous gulp. Mirroring the action, Arenbelle took the glass in her left hand, raising it to Tibers lips. Taking the chalice, the priest exited the circle, both Tiber and Arenbelle looking over to the priest in confusion. Opening her mouth to ask what was happening, a suddenly bright blue flame burst across the circle outline before racing inward, Arenbelle realizing that their blood had spilled and spread across the length of the circle. On reflex she attempted to pull her hand away as the flames inward, hitting their joint hands. Both cried out, the ribbon vanishing as a sharp sizzling pain burned across Arenbelles forearm. Looking down at her hand, Arenbelle found the wound healed, Tiber looking just as surprised when he looked down at his own injured hand before they both froze, their eyes locking. Arenbelle stepped forward at the same time as Tiber, Tibers warm blue eyes searching hers.

"Are you alright?" His voice was soft, his right hand running up the side of her cheek.

"Yes...," her right hand wrapped around his, a warm smile spreading across her lips. "Are you?" Tiber opened his mouth to respond, only to find the priest beside them, his hands resting on both their shoulders.

"Deep breaths, you two, the feelings you are feeling are side effects of the pact." Despite his words, neither of them moved away from one another. "Right, now, if you would both pull up the sleeves of your shirts on your right arm." Arenbelle pulled up her sleeve, Tiber frowning as she broke their skin on skin contact. Arenbelles eyes widened, finding a red marking upon her arm that hadn't been there before. The marking was made of three red parts. The very middle was a circle with what appeared to be simple dwarven daggers facing diagonally out of the opposite side. The additional parts were half circles that covered the sides of the center circle where the blades were sticking out. At both ends of the semi circles were additional dwarven blades, also facing out. "As long as you both shall live the marking will be upon your skin. When one of you dies it will move on to your successor and so on and so forth until both of your families fall and fade to dust." Arenbelle shuddered, not wanting to ever think of the man before her dying. "Your highness, with the ceremony being completed tonight it is recommended that you do not travel again for the next 3 days. It would be best for you to stay near by so that the after effects of the ceremony arent so severe." Arenbelle nodded,

"I did not plan to go anywhere for some time yet. Tiber and I have some business that still needs tending to." The priest nodded, turning his back on the pair,

"Then the two of you are free to go. If you have any questions or begin to feel ill, please do not hesitate to come back to me." Arenbelle nodded, turning on her heel, and exiting the crypt like structure, Tiber hot on her heels. She was just about to exit to find Legolas when a hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Tiber," she turned, not pulling away when his hand dropped from her wrist to lace their fingers together.

"I know the priest said that what I'm feeling is because of the ceremony but... I don't want you to go far away from me." His thumb rubbed the back of her hand absently. "Will you stay with me?" Arenbelle didnt hesitate, nodding her head,

"Yes."

48 Years Later

Arenbelle sighed, red eyes staring up at the ceiling above her head. She had recieved word of Tibers health failing, having recently returned to the aging man to plead with him. She had offered him her gift of immortality but he had turned it down, choosing to die instead of being with her forever. 'And now the cycle will continue,' she raised her arm up, red eyes zeroing in on the marking upon her forearm. It had been getting progressively lighter with Tibers deteriorating health. 'To be passed down to his successor,' her red eyes moved to the sleeping baby in the bassinet next to her bed. 'Lilith,' her youngest and only child that had been birthed since the ceremony. 'The one who will continue my service to the Septim line,' she frowned at the thought, finger tips tracing the sleeping babes face. 'And the child to be believed masters champion and my successor,' shaking her head, she sighed. So much would be passed onto her youngest child, both because of her own fool heartedness and because of the service she had sworn. 'But with Tibers death, it is likely that no one will know of the pact and if no one knows, Lilith will be free.' 'Or at least as free as she could ever hope t be,' shaking her head, Arenbelle pressed her palms into her eyes wondering if things could get any worse. Lilith suddenly crying out in agony pulled her from her own internal panic, hot tears filling her eyes when she realized why the baby had cried out in the first place. There, upon her tiny forearm was the brand that had appeared upon her skin all those years ago, not only signifying that she had been chosen to carry on the pact but also signifying the end of an era.

And the end of Tiber Septims life.

*A Picture Of The Mark*