A/N: you guys have no idea how much I've looked forward to this chapter :D

...

Aryvis knew something was wrong the moment that faint crunch of snow met his ears.

He turned around, eyes narrowed against the cold wind and the wide white horizon, searching for what could've made that sound. There was nothing, though- just snow, a few scattered rocks and the entrance to a cave he'd passed a little while ago. The area around Frostcrag Spire was pretty empty, at least in the directon away from Bruma, where he was walking just because he wanted something to do. It was Sundas, the one day he didn't teach at the University, but Raminus was there doing something or other. He scanned the area again, decided that it was an animal or something, and turned back to begin walking again.

And that's when an arrow buried itself right in the back of his left knee.

He barked out a curse, pain slicing around the bone and up his thigh as he fell. It hurt like all hell when he started to pull the arrow out and once the offending silver projectile was removed- since it didn't exactly occur to him that someone had shot him- he murmured a healing spell. Bright blue light swirled around his wrists, the physical manifestation of his magicka, and it had just barely made it past his fingers before it crackled and turned green, fading into nothing.

Oh, shit.

A wave of panic swept through him, raw and colder than the snow under his knees, because he'd never been silenced before. Never had he felt such a dissociation with the magic that had been part of his very being from birth; it just felt wrong, like a part of him had just been cut out, as tangible and devastating as a limb (maybe even more so). This is what scared him, the fact that he was cut off from his most powerful weapon, that he had a hole in his knee and couldn't fix it, that he really couldn't fight necromancers silenced, wounded and without his dagger or bow and hey, necromancers don't usually use arrows-

"Good night, Arch-Mage."

He barely registered these words before another shard of pain shot down his back from a point right below his left shoulder blade. At the same time every ounce of strength left him and he fell forward as the white world turned black.

...

When he woke again it was only halfway; his vision was fuzzy and his hearing unfocused. He found himself still on his knees, but his robe was gone, leaving him in only a pair of breeches and there were cold, hard restraints around his wrists, holding him back against what he figured was the wall. There were three voices, he couldn't tell how far away, all sounding male and low. He didn't say anything, didn't want to be caught awake, and just tried to focus his hearing enough to make out their conversation.

"...ob, Domitius," one said, and it seemed like he'd heard that voice before. "You brought him back quite quickly."

"I didn't know he had it in him," the next man's voice was low, almost a growl. "But I agree. Good work."

"Thank you, Listener," the third piped up between the two, and after the second complement he went on, "I'm Aerius' Silencer for a reason, Lucien. Have a little faith in me."

Talos, damn it.

Aerius? Listener? He was screwed, royally so. It wasn't that he hadn't taken Fadril seriously when they had spoken a few days prior, but he didn't know he'd be jumped in the middle of County Bruma by Aerius' Silencer. What was a Silencer, anyway?

As his vision swam closer to focus he noticed his surroundings more clearly. He was chained to a wall, as he had suspected, one that looked like the inside or a fort. In fact, the entire place looked like a fort, just formatted to be lived in- there was a bed close to a far wall, with a wardrobe and dresser, a ladder that led up into the ceiling (how odd...) a table set with alchemy equipment, a coffin next to that (he really hoped that wasn't for what he thought), all along the wall adjacent to him, and beside him was a barrel. The three men speaking were around the bed area- one in a black robe reclining on the bed, looking up at the other two with his hands folded behind his hooded head; the other robed and hooded one standing beside him; and one leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked younger, with brown hair pulled into a horsetail and wearing the Shrouded Armor Aryvis himself had only worn once. The Arch-Mage supposed he was the 'Silencer'.

That's when the standing robed man noticed him.

"He's awake," he growled, identifying himself as the one called Lucien. Interesting, his name sounded Breton but his voice rang Imperial... not that that was what held his attention at the moment.

The one laying back sat up and fixed him with a glowering red stare, and Aryvis instantly identified him as Aerius, the vampire Listener who had warned him about trying to leave the Brotherhood at his house-warming party.

"Oh, joy," the brown-haired one- Domitius?- grinned, revealing a pair of gleaming white fangs. Talos, was everyone in the Brotherhood a vampire? "And perfect timing, too- I was just starting to get thirsty."

"Wait, Domitius," the Listener murmured, holding his hand out to emphasize his point. "He isn't even coherent, look at him. I want him awake when we do this."

"This should wake him," Lucien growled, tossing Aerius a pink vial. Aryvis wasn't looking forward to drinking whatever it was.

However he wasn't given much choice when Aerius grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head back. The rough gesture reminded him of the pain in his side from the arrow wound; he had been healed, but it was mediocre, nothing like how Raminus would've done. At his cry of pain the Listener poured whatever was in it down his throat; what he could taste was light, slightly sweet and tasting of fruit. The Arch-Mage recognized it- a restore fatigue potion? That must mean the arrow that knocked him out had a drain fatigue enchantment... No arrow that had simply been poisoned could render anyone unconscious that quickly.

The Listener stepped back to watch as the potion took its effect. Aryvis' senses came rushing back to him, his hearing and sight snapping into place so quickly it hurt. But he realized that he was still missing something- his magic was still gone.

"Glad you're up," Aerius said, almost conversationally, "We were hoping to tell you a few things before you died."

The Arch-Mage cringed a little.

"As I recall, there was a party at a large castle in County Bruma a few months ago," he went on. "I was only there for a short time- Jimsyn was enough to keep an eye on you- but in that short time, what did I tell you not to do?"

Aryvis swallowed. He had no wish to answer, but somehow it managed to come out, "Hesitate to accomplish anything I agreed to."

"And, now that you've done exactly that, I must hold up my end of the bargain." he paused for a moment, expression growing pensive. "Although, I do want to know why you would do such a stupid thing, when you knew death awaited your decision."

"I know why," Lucien got up and approached them; beneath the shadow of his hood, all Aryvis could make out was a pair of dark brown eyes. "He has a lover. The Brotherhood was too much of a risk for him; he didn't want him to know about it."

The brown-eyed man leaned closer, only a few inches from Aryvis' face, "What a shame, knowing that you'll never see him again. I hope he'll miss you."

At the mention of Raminus Aryvis narrowed his eyes. He didn't care if they harassed him while he was captive, but the Master-Wizard was not to be brought into it.

So he spit in Lucien's face.

It was pretty much all he could do, chained and silenced as he was, but it got the point across rather well.

Lucien just looked at him for about three milliseconds before two things happened- the assassin's hand flew up and back across his cheek with incredible speed, and Aryvis' head snapped to the side, a loud crack filling the room as pain flew up the side of the Dunmer's face. He let out a slow sigh through his nose, clenching his teeth to will the hot sting away. He could feel his cheek growing purple.

Lucien wiped his face off with the edge of his sleeve, and turned back to Aerius and Domitius. "Kill him."

"With pleasure," Domitius growled, and while it didn't sound anything like Lucien's deep voice it was frightening all the same. He bumped himself off the wall, unsheathing the silver dagger at his hip and twirling it around his fingers. Aerius, who was still standing beside Aryvis, drew a katana from absolutely no-damn-where and sliced right through the chains holding his arms up. His entire body fell forward and he barely saved himself form hitting the floor face-first.

It took a little effort to stand- he must've been on his knees for hours- and just as he found his balance a steel dagger was thrust into his arms. Aerius walked over to the bed and sat next to Lucien. "Make it entertaining. Go."

...

Raminus sighed, pulling his robe off and draping it over the lid of his chest before falling back on the bed, a frown settling upon his face. Where was Aryvis?

It was almost midnight when he came back to the Spire; he was helping Tar-Meena shelve a new collection of books from the Summerset Isles and it had taken a long time. He knew that the Arch-Mage didn't teach on Sundas' so he wasn't at the University, and he'd checked all the rooms here, so he wasn't at home. In all honesty, he really didn't feel like going portal-hopping to see if the Dunmer was at one of the other guilds. He'd be home when he was finished doing whatever he was doing.

...

Domitius dropped down low, spinning around to kick the Arch-Mage's legs out from under him.

Aryvis didn't even know what had happened before he was falling, and a bark of pain forced its way out of his lungs when he landed on his wounded side.

That is to say, the side that was shot, since every other surface of his body was battered and bloody and tired since he started the fight with Domitius. There were cuts everywhere on him, some shallow but long, others deep and shorter; if he was trying to wear Aryvis down by having him bleed out it was working. He couldn't even feel them separately anymore- it was all one full-body sting with an underlying ache from when he'd been punched a few times- and his body felt wet with the blood and sweat coating his skin. On top of that he was scared, completely terrified because all his fights had been quick ones and he'd never felt such pain before. He'd always been able to heal himself before it got to this point; black spots danced in his vision and his hearing went blurry again. Without his magic he was a relatively helpless mer, muscles or no, and he couldn't help feeling that it wasn't fair...

And then Domitius' face was too close, and he winced at the sting of the Silencer's tongue swiping down the length of a cut on his cheek. "Mm, I can't wait until the rest of this blood is mine."

"Domitius," a voice called from the other side of the room; Aryvis was too out of it to look but knew it was Lucien. "He belongs to Sithis; he isn't yours to eat."

The youngest Imperial made an annoyed sort of sound. "Do you want me to finish him off, then?"

Despite himself the Arch-Mage flinched, and the tip of the dagger began to press between two of his ribs.

"No, give him time to regret his decision," that was Aerius, "Leave him to Sithis. The Wrath can take care of him."

"If you say so," Domitius mumbled. With a little sigh he brought the dagger up to his lips and drew his tongue up the bloody length of the blade, let out a little hum and smiled. "I'm leaving. I need a drink."

He stood and went over to the ladder, moving so fast that he was halfway up when Aerius agreed. He stopped and looked down, hanging by one arm. The Listener smirked; "Well? Move your ass, I need to eat too."

Then Lucien stood up as well. "I might as well speak to Emilia; she should be up by now."

"You're going to let him die in your house?" this time it was Aerius hanging down the ladder.

"What do you think my Guardians are for? I use them like servants when I'm here."

"Fair enough."

And they were gone.

Aryvis lay still for a few moments, listening hard for any indication that they were returning, but couldn't hear anything past the loud thumping of his heart except the rhythmic creaking of a skeleton's bones. He didn't care why he heard that, there was only one thing on his mind- that alchemy set. If he could make a potion- or, better yet, find one- over there, he might be able to get back to Raminus before he passed out from blood loss.

So slowly, carefully, with a good amount of difficulty, he began to get up. His skin and muscles stung and his bones protested and by the time he had gotten up to one knee his vision was starting to tilt to the left and that really wasn't good and Gods, please don't let me die without saying goodbye to all the mages and Alix and Fadril and I have to talk to Raminus, tell him what all this was for because he deserves to know and I need to kiss him one more ti--

No.

He wasn't going to just sit there and worry about who he never got to say his goodbyes to because he wasn't going to die. Not today. He was going to get up and go over to that table, find or make a potion and get out of there. Aerius made a mistake when he let the Arch-Mage loose. So, with fire in his eyes and a new furrow in his brow he forced his body to cooperate when he commanded it to stand. He was dizzy for a few seconds afterwards, head filling with fog, but he rubbed it away and walked over to the table, each step difficult and a tad sluggish.

There were three little vials on the table; he didn't even pay attention to the two green ones since they wouldn't help him but the one pink one he picked up and squinted at its label. When he made out 'fortify luck' he let out a little annoyed (slightly distressed) sigh but drank it anyway, a little luck wouldn't hurt. But there were no others on the table and the only ingredients in here were nightshade and a heart that looked vaguely human... wait, what's that?

The tiniest sliver of pink was visible between the wall and coffin. Aryvis leaned forward to inspect it; a potion was back there, it probably fell from the table of alchemy apparati (apparatuses?) and lay there, forgotten. With a hopeful lump in his throat he reached for it and pulled it out, squinting at the label once again...

Minor Rest alth

The side must have gotten scratched out or worn off, but he knew the words when he saw them. If he hadn't been wounded and silenced he could've done a little dance, he was so happy, he was going to live! Instead he clasped the little pink bottle to his chest and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods. Luck, indeed...

He tossed the potion back like a shot of alcohol and shivered as the cool liquid tingled down his throat and spread through his entire body. It was a minor potion, so the effect was weak, but it was all he had. His lacerations shrank a little; the wounds would probably still bleed but not as much. The arrow holes in the back of his knee and on his side grew smaller as well, but he'd still be better off with a thorough magical healing.

His heart fluttered as he pulled himself- rather painfully, he might add- up the ladder to the hatch in the ceiling. He was getting out of here, he could go back to the Spire, fall asleep in Raminus' lap to the gentle touch of the Master-Wizard's fingers...

Oh, yes. He couldn't wait.

When he pushed the heavy metal hatch open, the orange-pink glow of dawn stung his light deprived eyes. Aerius and company would probably be back soon, no doubt. He needed to get moving.

He hoped the potion would last.

...

Raminus was awakened by the loud, grating sound of the door being pushed open very, very slowly, as if the one opening the door had no strength. The light streaming in through the open arch was the golden orange of just-after dawn, and the mer standing there was the cause of his sharp intake of breath.

Aryvis was leaning up against the door, right hand wrapped around the front of his body, probably keeping pressure on a spot on his side. His posture just oozed weariness, and it made sense- his body was almost purple with the amount of blood spread over his blue skin. Raminus was surprised he could stand on his own; where he wasn't purple he was bright red, the long slashes ripping across the Dunmer's arms and torso. They crossed each other multiple times, there were so many.

Of course he took all this in within the space of about three seconds, because by that time he was up and out of bed and at the Arch-Mage's side.

Said Arch-Mage smiled at him drowsily, relief coloring his tone when he sighed, "Raminus."

Raminus was at a loss for words, "My... my Gods, Aryvis, what on Mundus happened to you?"

"Later," the Dunmer shook his head, "Long story."

"If you say so... Why didn't you heal yourself?"

Aryvis didn't answer, just spoke the words for a healing spell and watched sadly as his normally bright blue magicka turned that sickly green color, crackling like fire and dissipating. Raminus frowned, "Oh. Well let's get you cleaned up and healed."

"What about my magic?"

"After."

"But-"

The Master-Wizard cut him off, "You know just as well as I do that casting a dispel on you could make it worse." he hated to sound so insensitive, he'd want his magic back quickly, too, but he wouldn't hurt Aryvis in the process.

With a sigh the Dunmer nodded and began limping toward the portal. He'd barely made three steps before his skin started to prickle and he was surrounded by a pink glow. Raminus' telekinesis spell lifted him up gently, taking the strain off of his wounded knee, and set him down on the portal the same way.

Not ten minutes later he was sitting against the edge of the tub in waist-high water, warm against his abused skin and already slightly pink with blood. A few bubbles crowned the surface of the water here and there, betraying the presence of bath soap. He didn't know which one it was, though. Raminus was sitting behind him, the sleeves of his tan linen shirt pushed up to his elbows, soaking a cloth in the water before dabbing it against Aryvis' shoulder.

The Arch-Mage hissed and arched away from the hot sting pressing into his bare flesh; Raminus placed a hand on an undamaged part of his bicep, a silent command to be still. Aryvis tried but still flinched at every brush of the rag against his cuts. "Raminus, it hurts."

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbled, "But the sooner I get this done the sooner you get healed and get your magic back."

"I know," he ground out through his teeth, nails biting into his knees because Gods dammit, it hurt. Then Raminus was inspecting the arrow wound on his side; a growl ripped out of his chest, dark and pained, and he moved his hands to the edge of the tub because he was afraid he'd break his kneecaps. The Master-Wizard behind him let out a soft apology and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, his strokes softening a little.

"Did he stab you?" the question came out of nowhere, but soon after a slight sting traveled up the length of his spine from a spot just above his right hip.

Aryvis lifted his arm to look at it; "A few times, yes."

"You're taking this awfully well."

"I panicked already."

By the time Raminus had finished cleaning the Arch-Mage's cuts, front and back, he had begun doubting the decision to tell the Imperial every part of his kidnapping. The notion of leaving out the assassin part crossed his mind, but he knew that he wouldn't buy it. But, on the other hand, who knew how Raminus would react? Would he shun Aryvis for killing innocent people, be angry and leave him, feel a tad flattered because it was all for-

"Aryvis," Raminus shook him, breaking out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"I was warning you, the healing's going to hurt at first."

"Oh," he waved it off, "Go ahead, I can handle it."

"Alright," he said, and instead of saying the string of words Aryvis expected he leaned away for a moment; the Dunmer really didn't care enough to look but lost all coherent thought when some cold, wet paste was pressed into the deep cut right below his collarbone. He sighed, looking down as if he could even see it, and relaxed just a little right before this searing burn began there, enticing his bark of surprise.

Raminus chuckled a little- the fetcher- and spread more of the painful salve elsewhere. "I warned you. It'll feel better when I use magic, but the deeper ones need this so they'll heal inside as well as out. Either way, you'll have scars..."

"I'll live."

So the Master-Wizard plastered more of that burning paste in other places; Aryvis clenched his jaw and endured it but didn't say anything because, really, it wasn't anywhere near what he'd felt not two hours prior. When it was over he was relieved, though, and smiled as Raminus murmured those words...

That familiar soft tingle began in the tops of his shoulders, along with the slight press of Raminus' hands. His fingers and palms ran the length of his wounds; the sensation of each cut patching together, stitching seamlessly under a new layer of skin and scar tissue, made Aryvis shiver. Raminus was careful in his healing- he made sure each one was completely sealed before moving onto the next.

All the ones on his back were taken care of in a matter or minutes. The Master-Wizard ran his thumb down the length of Aryvis' spine, magic still going strong, and smiled at the Dunmer's full-on shudder. He leaned forward, lips pressing against his lover's shoulder as his hands went around to the front; the lean muscles of his chest twitched at the first contact but he let out a soft sigh and relaxed into the touch.

"I think that's everything," Raminus murmured into his skin after healing every open slash and stab on his stomach and arms.

"No, keep going, it feels so good," Aryvis whined, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

"There's nothing left to heal, except for that," he pressed a soft kiss to the cut on the Dunmer's cheek and held it for a moment before letting the spell drop. "Besides, don't you want your magic back?"

"Definitely."

And he practically leaped out of the tub, drying his upper half with a towel and wrapping it around the lower. The word to drain the pinkish water left his lips before he stepped on the portal back to the living quarters. By the time Raminus caught up he was sitting cross-legged on the Master-Wizard's bed, just about bouncing with anticipation. With a soft chuckle he moved to stand in from of the Dunmer.

"Come on," Aryvis whined, bouncing again for emphasis, "I'm healed and clean, give it back."

"You are so impatient," Raminus smiled and leaned in to meet his lips in a kiss. It was in no way soft, sweet like he usually kissed the Arch-Mage; this one was hard and biting, full of the worry and anxiety he'd felt all the previous day and the hours it had taken him to fall asleep. Aryvis had to lean back a little, supporting himself with the arm he'd had to move behind him while trying to stay coherent as Raminus nipped at his bottom lip. He couldn't quite bring himself to be happy when the other pulled away.

"Magickaya lemha shanta," The Arch-Mage wasn't sure if he was supposed to understand that or not at first, but soon realized what was going on and his stomach did a little flip. "Cano sou balais ald'ald-het."

The Master-Wizard pressed his hand to Aryvis' forehead, blue magicka glowing around his palm, and he flinched, hard. Something like fire rushed from Raminus' hand to the back of his skull, flowing down his spine and spreading through his veins. It burned, but in an amazinglygood way, and raised goosebumps all over him. His fingers clenched tightly in the sheets as a stopper deep within him opened, and magicka flooded his senses.

Raminus smiled as a moan of what only could've been pure bliss escaped the Arch-Mage. He twitched again, like some unseen force had taken hold of his body and shook him hard, and as he gripped the sheets tighter a few odd crackles of lightning permeated the air around him.

"Oh, yes," he hissed, opening his eyes. Raminus gladly stepped out of his way when he got up and moved to the door, pulling it open and walking out onto the balcony. He looked good out there, bathed in sunlight and sparking with a surplus amount of magicka. With a short string of words there were two concentrations of lightning in his hands, each crackling and swirling in a huge cloud of pure magicka. He brought his hands together and shot them as one into the sky, a gigantic, writhing mass of lightning that shot off so hard that Aryvis skidded back a few inches. He looked down at his hands as little ripples or shock magic twisted up his arms and grinned widely.

"I missed it so much."

"I know," the Master-Wizard smiled, beckoning him back in the house and smiling wider when he yawned. "You need to sleep."

"'M not tired."

"The fact that you just said "'M" proves otherwise. You're magically hyperactive, but you haven't slept all night, correct?"

He sighed. "Right."

"Right." Raminus smirked, he loved being right. "Go to bed, I won't go to the University today."

"You don't have to watch me, I won't get kidnapped again."

"But you might reopen something, and Talos knows I heal better than you do."

Aryvis frowned. "Fine."

...

A/M: and thus ends the first part of chapter eleven. I was going to do all of it in one chapter but gosh, it just seemed like a lot of words... It was already 4680 words, my fingers are tired...

Oh yeah, so that spell that Raminus said was just a jumble of Ayeleid words I got off of Loranna's RP chart thingy. They translate to something like "your magicka returns to you, herald your powers too long gone" or something like that. I can't remember it now.

Dawn out.