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Listener+Spectral Assassin “Voidbound” Part 1

[(Anonymous)]

“May I ask you a question?”

Her inquiry is met by a gossamer chuckle as the silvery form of Lucien Lachance shimmers into view. His essence changing from a transparent mist to something more tangible before Lumen’s eyes.

“You just did,” he says, his full lips curling into an amused smile.

Lumen tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear, ignoring his gibe. “Well it’s a rather personal question.”

"Are we not bound eternally through the Void, my Listener?" he asks, moving closer to her, his curiosity piqued. "There’s no such thing as a 'personal question' between us."

The pad of Lumen's finger traces along the edge of a thick, leather-bound book. One of the many she discovered in the Dark Brotherhood’s ancient sanctuary. Unfortunately, there is little information she can glean from the timeworn tome, with its crumbling pages and mottled ink. She stares down at the book, wishing she’d just kept her curiosity to herself. Because the question is personal and Lumen has always held a healthy respect for Lucien Lachance. He is, after all, a Dark Brotherhood legend and she has no desire to offend him.

"My Listener," he says, his smooth, silky baritone tugging Lumen from her worries. "Ask."

Lumen stiffens at the command, her amber eyes meeting Lucien’s dark, spectral ones. “How did you die?” she finally asks.

Lucien's smile curves further up on one side. "I was murdered, sister," he tells her, and his smirk goes from amused to positively sadistic. Then, he moves faster than Lumen had ever seen him. One moment, he's standing in front of her, and the next, he's behind her. "Do you want to know how?" he asks, his voice carrying an elation she'd never heard from him before.

Her audible swallow draws another chuckle from the specter, and it takes Lumen a moment to find her voice. "I admit-- I am a little curious."

"More than a little curious, I'd say," he purrs. "It does make sense that one who's sent so many to their deaths would desire to know what it feels like."

"I'd rather not find out first-hand, just yet," she says, trying like the Void to keep her voice even. Lucien wouldn't kill her, she knows that. But that knowledge does little to calm her nerves when the specter is stalking around her, looking at her the way a hungry cat looks at a guppy in a fishbowl.

“Of course,” he nods. "My Silencer and I had been deceived, as had the remaining members of the Black Hand by a man named Mathieu Bellamont. I sent my Silencer to find evidence that would exonerate me, for the Black Hand believed I was the traitor. But she did not make it in time." Lucien speaks with bored nonchalance of a man talking about the weather, as though his death was no more significant than a slight chance of rain. "I tried to declare my innocence, but my pleas fell on deaf ears, as I knew they would. I did not expect my brothers and sisters to show me mercy, and I did not ask for it."

Lucien moves behind her again and says, "I was subdued when Banus stabbed me here," he presses his fingers against her stomach, putting pressure against her liver, which brings forth a wave of nausea. "The wound would've been fatal, but Arquen was a skilled healer and once I had been bound," his icy hands grab her by the wrists, wrenching them behind her. "I was healed, so the Black Hand could mete out their punishment. My siblings were well-versed in the art of torture, drawing out the exquisite agony of my death for hours."

His fingers slip into her hand as he steps in front of her, and Lumen visibly shivers when Lucien draws a finger down the length of her bare arm, only stopping when he'd gently taken the tip of her smallest digit between his thumb and forefinger. "First was Belisarius with the pliers," he tells her with a dark chuckle. “Usually I am the one delivering such glorious torments, so imagine my utter delight to be on the receiving end of such attentions."

"It doesn't sound delightful to me," Lumen admits.