A/N: I've been bitten by the Alvanus (Alval/Banus) bug! I so blame Alcyfis for this! I'm trying a new style of story-telling: first person and retrospective. Hope it works.
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Burgundy and Black
Chapter 1: First Meeting
My sexuality was never a secret from the Black Hand. The Night Mother sees all and has very loose lips. It was a joke among them and, for the first few years I was in the Brotherhood, I was often the subject of ridicule. Perhaps that was why I developed such an irritable personality and practiced Destruction magic so much. I was never like that before I became a hired killer. Before, I was courteous and pleasant. I know; it's hard to imagine but I digress.
When I became a Silencer, I had gone ten years without a relationship. I had convinced myself at that time that I did not need one and a child of Sithis like myself should not distract himself with such meaningless things when we should be considering how to orchestrate my next kill. Eventually, the jokes about me stopped when they realised that one: I wasn't doing anything to earn their sneers, and two: I was capable of turning their bones to ash if they tried.
Then, I became a Speaker. I had a Sanctuary in Bravil to call my own and a Silencer to do my dirty work. A Breton called Blanchard, I don't really remember much about him. In the meantime, I was charged with administrative duties, sorting out who did what contract and the new recruits. A rather dull career when compared to the heart-racing assassinations I was commanded to carry out before. Speaker Arius always complained how he had not had blood on his hands for far too long. Speaker Lachance rather enjoyed it, since he could scare the life out of new recruits. Imperials; they're either moaners or total show-offs.
I've initiated all sorts into my Sanctuary: sneaky little elves with shifty eyes who shoot their targets from the shadows, over-stealthy Argonians who loved to grab me from behind for a joke (well, they did. Once. They didn't do it again) and Nords who just wanted the chance to crush everything in sight with their hammer. I never got any Dunmers for quite some time. I suppose the Morag Tong got to them before we could. It was quite a surprise when I received the order from Ungolim to initiate a Dunmer boy from Kvatch. By then, I was sure that I had lost all appetite over lack of attention. Surely, these things just faded with time. How very mistaken I was.
I found him hiding amongst the trees near Belletor's Folly. He must have fled Kvatch and concealed himself there from the guards that wondered around the place. There was no reason for me to dodge them; I had neglected my Black Hand robes and deigned to wear normal clothes for just that reason. I just walked over to him and gave him a tap on the shoulder.
Now, I know that the rumour goes that the Dark Brotherhood is meant to come to you in your sleep but that's just Lachance. He seems to think it's impressive to sneak up on a possible new recruit, do a small frost spell on them to make it seem like the air grows chill and begin an unnecessary speech on how soundly they sleep for a murderer or whatever. Honestly, who did he think he was? Sithis, himself? Just what was he trying to prove with that little show? That was what I often thought of him.
Anyway, when I had given him that tap on the shoulder, he whipped round. At once, he began cowering before me, begging, "I never did it! I was just-"
I put a finger on his lips to silence him, "Shh! Do you want the guards to catch you?" I snapped, "This way. Follow me and don't make a noise."
He was confused for a moment and, then, nodded, realising that I wasn't going to arrest him. Dropping down to the standard sneak position, I slipped between the trees and he did the same. The Dunmer was a skinny little thing, no more than thirty. By the look of his clothes, he wasn't too wealthy either, just a coarse linen outfit and thin-soled shoes. He still had the blood on his face from the kill, too, and some had stuck in his scruffy hair. All in all, he looked rather like a stray cat living on the streets. Then again, most of the recruits I met looked like that so that was why didn't really look twice at him to start with.
With my guidance, we managed to get away from the guards and down to a camp south of the plataeu. There, I intended to give him the briefing. Nothing fancy, just the basic instructions. Lachance liked to hand out fancy daggers to the new recruits to use for the first kill but I found they most often already had a suitable weapon so I never bothered with such a waste of money.
Lighting the fire at the centre, I motioned for him to sit down opposite me. He did so meekly, staring intently away from my face. I was irritated by his lack of backbone. Not really for any particular reason. I just got irritated by everything back then. So, I snapped, "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" With a small jump, he jerked his head up. His cheekbones cast odd shadows upon his face, making him look more gaunt than he really was,
"Wh-who are you? What do you want with me?"
"I am Alval Uvani," I snapped, at once my short-tempered self, "and I am a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. That is all you need to know about me." At those words, he gave a small gasp and clasped his hands to his mouth. When I saw it, I immediately thought how bad he was at concealing his emotions and thought even less of him for it than I already did, "Oh, stop that, you wheedling little maggot, and sit still when you're spoken to!"
He instantly stiffened, as though I had paralyzed him. Which I very much desired to do at that point. I rattled off the usual instructions; to kill an easy target (this one hiding in the Vindasel ruins but that's irrelevant) and that I would come to him afterwards. Not that I guessed that he would do it at the time. He looked like a weedy little coward who had probably killed by accident. I never did find out who he killed in Kvatch to make me meet him. It doesn't matter now, I suppose.
When I had finished giving my instructions, I stood up and turned my back to leave, "Wait!" He cried. Snarling, I turned to glare at him,
"What now? You're wasting my time!" Not that I had anything else to do that night. I just wanted to get out of there,
"Well, uh," He was not as nervous as before, just stuttering a bit, "it's just...well, I know your name but you don't know mine."
I rolled my eyes to the heavens, "That is your reason for delaying me?"
"I-it's only polite." He insisted,
"Fine!" I snapped. I really was sharp with him back then, "Spit it out."
"I'm Banus. House Alor."
"Right." I nodded, "Now, walk away, before I lose my patience!"
With the tiniest of nods, he hurried away into the night. I was left to stride away in my usual, unreasonable fury. I didn't like using horses. When asked, I would say that I could make my way around without being carried by a dumb animal. The real reason was that I was thrown off one when I was a child and broke my leg. I never went near a horse since.
It was two days' journey back to the Sanctuary but I didn't mind. It was a familiar path to tread and I've never had a blister. Unlike Lachance, who liked to haunt derilict old forts crawling with Dark Guardians like some pathetic imitation of a haunted manor, I preferred to stay in my own Sanctuary. It was more practical in my opinion. That way, I could keep a closer eye of the goings on in there. Ungolim had taken residence in the house above the Sanctuary, thus it made contact with the Listener all the more simpler.
I passed through the house, greeting a bleary-eyed Ungolim with my usual inclining head. The only outward respect I showed him. I was at once greeted by Blanchard, who told me an extremely transparent lie that he popped in to visit the Sanctuary. In actuality, he liked to put off collecting his dead drops and chose the Sanctuary to spend a few lazy days.
I at once told him to get to his dead drop at once or I would scorch his backside off. That got him going, as well as a quick flare spell to show I wasn't bluffing. I soon reached my room and settled down for a rest.
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I've always prided myself in being a quick thinker, as well as being a good judge of character. Good, mind you, not great. I did make a few mistakes in the past. Still, I liked to do it. Practice makes perfect, that's what I say. I knew that Nord I killed before I left Kvatch was a thief. Catching him in my basement was the deciding factor. I just sneaked up on him and killed him. He hadn't taken anything and I had no proof of what he had done.
So, those thick-headed guards had come to the incredibly clever conclusion that I was the one in the wrong. So, I had to flee my house with them hot on my heels all the way from the plateau until I managed to hide in the bushes close to a mine. I lay there for hours, wishing they would move but they never did. It wasn't long before I began to despair, thinking that I was sure to be caught.
It was then that I felt
the tap on my shoulder. Knowing in that instant that my argument that
the Nord was a thief would not work, I whipped round and tried, "I
never did it! I was just-"
A finger on my mouth silenced me
and I realised that I was not looking into the ill-shaven face of a
guard but the well-kept face of a Dunmer. Well, I assumed it was a
Dunmer. I knew no other race that had red eyes. Except for vampires.
He left me no room to wonder who he was but hissed "Shh! Do you
want the guards to catch you? This way. Follow me and don't make a
noise."
Realising that, whoever this mer was, he was an ally, I crept through the bushes behind him. I tried to concentrate upon not making a noise but my nerves made my legs shake. I had never been desperately skilled at stealth. I was good enough but not an expert. With guards all around me and tailing a total stranger, it wasn't surprising that I was so jittery.
In addition, the Dunmer before me seemed to eminate such authority and respect. He had such a great presence that I could almost feel my back bend just by being near him. Never had I felt so much reverence for a man since I first saw Count Goldwine. Realising that I was getting distracted, I put my head down and concentrated on avoiding the loose stones at my feet.
We reached a campsite that I never normally went near due to all the bandits and he motioned me to sit. I did so, feeling like a naughty child being sent to the headmaster. Fiddling with my sleeve, I watched as he sat down beside me and affixed me with a furious expression as though I had done something very wrong. I took this time to examine my new friend.
He had a very pristine sort of appearance, which shone through the humble choice of clothes. He looked very well kept compared to me (well, that would have been true of a beggar at that point). His hair (I couldn't see the colour that well in the firelight but it looked like a sort of light brown) was slicked back with not a strand out of place and his burgundy suit looked practically brand new and it was hard to think that he had just been creeping through the undergrowth. He must do this a lot if he was that good at it. And, he must be rather conscious about his appearance if he kept himself so well.
I tried not to linger too long on his face, despite my normal instinct to get a good look at it. He seemed to be the easily irritated type and they never seemed to like it when you looked at their face for too long. I was proved right when he snapped, "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" A flurry of nerves made me start and I stuttered as I spoke,
"Wh-who are you? What do you want with me?"
"I am Alval Uvani and I am a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. That is all you need to know about me."
I subconsciously noted how unwilling he was to talk about himself but I could not suppress my shock at being in front of an messenger from the Dark Brotherhood. I had always been a bit overdramatic and my gasp made him even more annoyed, "Oh, stop that, you wheedling little maggot, and sit still when you're spoken to!"
I stiffened instinctively. This Alval Uvani really had a knack for commanding people, very much like a headmaster. Then again, I supposed one had to be in order to keep a bunch of cut-throat murderers in line. Murderers I would soon be joining. I was not adverse to killing but he was not a psychopath. I knew that much; I had enough of my sanity intact for the moment. I wondered briefly at the point how much of it would be left.
Alval rattled off instructions to kill someone hiding in the Vindasel ruins. I didn't know where they were but I intended to get directions from someone else. I would never dare to interrupt him. The other was talking in a rehearsed, routine sort of way, as though he had said this a thousand times. He clearly didn't like this part of the job or meeting new people in general, perhaps. The sign of a rather insecure person.
Before I knew it, Uvani was standing up to leave. All too soon and, before I had really thought it out, I burst out,"Wait!"
"What now? You're wasting my time!" He snarled, baring his teeth like a wolf,
"Well, uh," I could not keep a slight stutter from my voice as I scrambled for something to say, "it's just...well, I know your name but you don't know mine."
A pathetic excuse and Alval clearly thought so as well, "That is your reason for delaying me?"
"I-it's only polite." I blurted out, instantly wishing I hadn't afterwards. If looks could kill, I would be dead a hundred times over. I fully expected him to snap at me, telling me I was a nitpicking idiot but, instead, he snarled,
"Fine! Spit it out."
"I'm Banus. House Alor." I managed to get this out without stuttering. Hopefully, there would be a time when I could talk to him without stammering,
"Right." He nodded, then bared his teeth in an even more ferocious growl, "Now, walk away, before I lose my patience!"
Not wanting to really know what he was like when he lost his patience, I hurriedly got to my feet and half-ran into the darkness. I didn't really think about whether it was right to do it or not. I'm not sure what I was thinking back then but I was certain that I wanted to see that stern, hard-faced mer again. So, I went to Vindasel, getting the directions from a Nord at Pell's Gate and managed to sneak up on the target.
I remember her being well-armoured and I wondered if Alval chose this target deliberately to either ward off weaker candidates or to test the stronger ones. Either way, it was a rather difficult one. She was very aware of her surroundings and I couldn't get near her for hours. Still, I wasn't one to give up easily and, finally, I got my dagger in her neck.
I also remember her having a rather strange-looking sword on her but I didn't touch it. I'm rather against stealing from dead bodies, you see, even when I was in the Brotherhood. Feeling rather done-in after all that cautious work and waiting, I borrowed that woman's bedroll and lay down to have a nap while waited for when Alval visited me again.
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A/N: What do you think? Should I just stick with Broken Daggers or continue with this?
