Liriel didn't know what to tell him. Truth was, she wasn't even sure herself why the Night Mother had stopped talking for so long. All she had to go on was what Cicero had told her, dear, sweet, more than half-crazy Cicero. Exactly how much of this she could safely reveal to Madanach was something else, even though the grief-stricken desperation in his eyes made her badly want to.
“I can't – I can't tell you, Madanach. I wish I could!” she sighed. “But I can't just go spilling Dark Brotherhood secrets like this. Not to an outsider! You understand that, right?”
Madanach laughed bitterly, turning away and lying on his back, staring at the stars.
“Old gods preserve us,” he said quietly. “You truly know nothing, do you?”
“Because you won't tell me!” Liriel cried, getting a little sick of this. “What is this big secret you keep expecting me to know? I'm just a raw recruit, Madanach. I've been one of them for months, if that. And you're not one at all, although I'm willing to believe you're more than capable of cold-blooded murder.”
“I am that,” Madanach murmured. “All right, Liriel. I will tell you what you should already know, and if that's to your liking, then I'm hoping you'll answer my question.”
Liriel sipped her jenever and agreed. Finally, a few answers. She watched as Madanach lay back, watching the aurora blaze.
“The first thing you have to know to truly understand us, how we think, how we see the world, in fact, probably the only thing, is to know who we worship. Know our gods. Few ever even think to ask.”
“You worship the old gods,” said Liriel, wondering what this had to do with anything. “The ones that came before the Eight Divines. And Talos, if you count him. Which I don't.”
“Should hope not,” Madanach growled. “He's the reason we lost our kingdom, him and that Empire of his. I don't even respect Tiber Septim as a man, worshipping him as a god is madness. You know we worship the old gods but do you know who the old gods are?”
No, was the short answer to that one. She'd read a lot, but never seen anything on the Forsworn gods. Even Madmen of the Reach was silent on who they were.
“The Daedra?” she hazarded a guess. Faint smile on Madanach's face, which probably meant the answer was no.
“Before even the Daedra,” said Madanach quietly. “Life and death themselves, existence and non-existence. The power from which all things come, and the power by which all things end, shaping the world into being, deciding what comes to pass and what does not. Everything came from them and they're still working today, still dancing and that dance is what makes the world turn. That dance gave us the Aedra, and it gave us the Daedra too, although they're only lesser aspects of the two greater powers. I'll tell you their names, but you already know them, or you should at least. Anu, Lord of All That Is. And the other, the Lord of All That Is Not? You serve him, Liriel.”
Liriel lifted her head, her yellow eyes staring into Madanach's grey ones. She'd heard him swear by Sithis earlier, but had assumed he'd just been reading up on the Brotherhood and was trying to make her feel at home. It had never even occurred to her his interest in the Brotherhood was more than professional, that his rage and fury at Sithis never answering his call wasn't just despair at not getting Thonar killed but an actual religious crisis.
“The Forsworn worship Sithis??” she whispered, wondering how, why she never knew this, why no one, not even Cicero who should know these things, had never told her this before. Madanach just inclined his head.
“Both of them, Anu and Sithis together. You cannot have one without the other. Everything about us comes from that. We do not fear death because we would not be alive without it, and one day we too will die so that the world can keep turning. We don't need a dream of Sovngarde to make us brave enough to fight. We fight and risk our lives because we know the Dread Father will claim us when he's ready and we can't change that. No one knows the mind of the Dread Father. No one but you.”
He'd rolled over, staring into her eyes again as if she was the answer to the mysteries of life, the universe and everything.
Re: Nightshade and Juniper 2.9
“I can't – I can't tell you, Madanach. I wish I could!” she sighed. “But I can't just go spilling Dark Brotherhood secrets like this. Not to an outsider! You understand that, right?”
Madanach laughed bitterly, turning away and lying on his back, staring at the stars.
“Old gods preserve us,” he said quietly. “You truly know nothing, do you?”
“Because you won't tell me!” Liriel cried, getting a little sick of this. “What is this big secret you keep expecting me to know? I'm just a raw recruit, Madanach. I've been one of them for months, if that. And you're not one at all, although I'm willing to believe you're more than capable of cold-blooded murder.”
“I am that,” Madanach murmured. “All right, Liriel. I will tell you what you should already know, and if that's to your liking, then I'm hoping you'll answer my question.”
Liriel sipped her jenever and agreed. Finally, a few answers. She watched as Madanach lay back, watching the aurora blaze.
“The first thing you have to know to truly understand us, how we think, how we see the world, in fact, probably the only thing, is to know who we worship. Know our gods. Few ever even think to ask.”
“You worship the old gods,” said Liriel, wondering what this had to do with anything. “The ones that came before the Eight Divines. And Talos, if you count him. Which I don't.”
“Should hope not,” Madanach growled. “He's the reason we lost our kingdom, him and that Empire of his. I don't even respect Tiber Septim as a man, worshipping him as a god is madness. You know we worship the old gods but do you know who the old gods are?”
No, was the short answer to that one. She'd read a lot, but never seen anything on the Forsworn gods. Even Madmen of the Reach was silent on who they were.
“The Daedra?” she hazarded a guess. Faint smile on Madanach's face, which probably meant the answer was no.
“Before even the Daedra,” said Madanach quietly. “Life and death themselves, existence and non-existence. The power from which all things come, and the power by which all things end, shaping the world into being, deciding what comes to pass and what does not. Everything came from them and they're still working today, still dancing and that dance is what makes the world turn. That dance gave us the Aedra, and it gave us the Daedra too, although they're only lesser aspects of the two greater powers. I'll tell you their names, but you already know them, or you should at least. Anu, Lord of All That Is. And the other, the Lord of All That Is Not? You serve him, Liriel.”
Liriel lifted her head, her yellow eyes staring into Madanach's grey ones. She'd heard him swear by Sithis earlier, but had assumed he'd just been reading up on the Brotherhood and was trying to make her feel at home. It had never even occurred to her his interest in the Brotherhood was more than professional, that his rage and fury at Sithis never answering his call wasn't just despair at not getting Thonar killed but an actual religious crisis.
“The Forsworn worship Sithis??” she whispered, wondering how, why she never knew this, why no one, not even Cicero who should know these things, had never told her this before. Madanach just inclined his head.
“Both of them, Anu and Sithis together. You cannot have one without the other. Everything about us comes from that. We do not fear death because we would not be alive without it, and one day we too will die so that the world can keep turning. We don't need a dream of Sovngarde to make us brave enough to fight. We fight and risk our lives because we know the Dread Father will claim us when he's ready and we can't change that. No one knows the mind of the Dread Father. No one but you.”
He'd rolled over, staring into her eyes again as if she was the answer to the mysteries of life, the universe and everything.