Blood and Choice

Chapter 2

"I don't like this," Dram Bero muttered, scanning the room warily. "Tell me again, why are we here?"

Crassius smiled slightly. "Because I asked it of you, and I am the head Councilman, of course."

"And because we have no choice, since you entered into this agreement without consulting any of us first."

Crassius Curio returned Dram's level look with his typical nonchalance. "You don't trust me to do what's best for the House, Dram?"

"I trust that you are doing what you think is best," the Dunmer replied. "But I also think your actions regarding these vampires have called your judgment into question."

Crassius laughed, though there was a level of tension beneath it. It did nothing to soothe Dram's nerves. "Stay after the meeting, Dram, so that I can convince you. There is some more information I want to share with you, only you, and I would like your opinion."

Dram glanced across the room at Nevena Ules, and smiled inwardly. Curio knew exactly the best way to manipulate him... but that was nothing new. Nearly all House Hlaalu knew Dram would jump at the chance to gain any advantage over his lady rival.

"And there is another thing," Crassius added, rubbing his hands together. "You know how I like to have... friends... in as many places as possible."

Dram snorted. It was standard procedure in House Hlaalu to have a network of informants and spies ensconced within rival and enemy groups... but even among the Councilors, Crassius was notorious for such things. "Yes. And you wish to expand into the vampires, is that it? I don't imagine you'll be able to find anyone willing to infiltrate that group, my friend."

"Certainly not," the head Councilor agreed. "But the clan of Juraene does not consist only of vampires. The Ancient has an... assistant, a Bosmer woman. She- well, she was mortal for quite a long time during my dealings with the clan. The last time I saw her, she had been turned, but she assured me it was only a temporary condition."

Interesting, Dram thought. "You want to bring her to us? Or have you already?"

Crassius grimaced. "Our interactions have been... less than satisfactory. I think she holds me too much in contempt to consider my suggestions. But she is a slave to the Ancient; she told me so herself. The promise of freedom- from someone who makes a better impression on her than I have- might be enough to persuade her to help us."

"Freedom, eh?" Dram raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that will be within our power to grant her, but I will try. What are you planning, Crassius?"

The other man smiled secretively, and began to reply, but a sudden knock at the door cut through the low murmur of conversation. The room fell into a nervous silence. All heads turned toward the door, then swung to look at Crassius, the only one of them who had any sort of experience with their new allies. He, in turn, gestured impatiently to Yngling Half-Troll. The big Councilor swallowed nervously, and went to open the door. They had all agreed hours ago that they would do without any servants- too many prying eyes and ears to observe who was visiting Balmora that night.

Standing in the doorway, Yngling exchanged quiet words with the guests. In the midnight darkness outside, Dram could see nothing but the outline of a dark hood and cloak. Around the edges of the room, the uneasy silence grew heavier.

Yngling stepped aside, opening the door wider and managing to half-hide himself behind it. "The- the Ancient of Juraene clan, Assurjan Juraene," he announced in a shaky voice, "-and the Hand of the Ancient, Raema of Juraene."

A slight figure stepped through the doorway, pulling back her hood to reveal a pale, delicate Bosmer face. Dram's eyes narrowed, gauging this so-called Hand of the Ancient. He made a habit of hiring capable bodyguards, and this Raema was certainly someone he would not turn away. Delicate appearance not withstanding, the woman moved with an easy grace that spoke of a readiness to use the sword strapped across her back, and to use it well. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face in a simple queue at the nape of her neck, and Dram noted that her right hand was mottled with a strange pattern of pink, healing skin. The Bosmer's dark eyes swept over the room's occupants, searching for threats like any good bodyguard should. Dram gave a respectful nod when her wary gaze settled on him.

Raema stepped aside, and a second figure entered the manor, one tall enough that he had to dip his head slightly to do so. He was shrouded entirely in black; for an instant, Dram had the unsettling sense that the darkness of the night itself was spilling physically into the room. Gloved hands reached up to pull back the cloak's hood, and Dram had to make an effort not to reach for the knife at his belt. The vampire was a Dunmer, but eyes that should have been a deep scarlet were instead pale, milky white, like a long-dead corpse's. His head was bare-skinned, but for a topknot of black hair that fell in a whip-like braid from the crown of his skull. He bore no weapons that Dram could see, but even if he had no blades hidden beneath that cloak, the Councilor had no intention of picking a fight with him. According to Crassius, the vampire was a powerful mage; reports from the Imperial Legion hinted that an entire unit of soldiers had been burned alive by his sorcery.

After a heartbeat's hesitation, Crassius Curio stepped forward, making a smooth, sweeping bow.

"My lord Ancient, it is a great honor to meet with you face-to-face at last," he said. "I bid you welcome to Balmora, and to House Hlaalu. And my lady Raema, how good to see you again. I am very glad to see that you are... feeling better."

The Hand blinked at him, then gave him a cool smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Crassius swallowed hesitantly, adding, "Is there... anything we may provide? A drink for you and the Hand, my lord, or..."

Or blood, Dram finished silently. There had been a fierce debate over this just an hour earlier, for no one knew the proper etiquette for such a situation. Would it be an insult not to offer? Surely the Ancient would not ask such a thing of them... would he?

To everyone's relief, Assurjan demurred at once, acknowledging Crassius' offer with a shake of his head. "You are too kind, Councilor," he said. Though he spoke quietly, his deep voice carried easily through the room. "But we must be gone before sunrise, and so my time is limited. Shall we begin?"

"Of course," Crassius said, not quite able to hide his relief. Dram felt some of his own tension dissipate... Not all of it, though. "Let us sit down."
Seems pleasant enough, Dram thought, as they made their way toward the long table set in the center of the room. But I'll bloody well wait until full daylight to leave Balmora, all the same. The possibility of encountering the vampire as he walked the roads in the dark made him shiver.

Crassius would be at the head of the table, of course. Dram took the chair to Crassius' immediate right, and Nevena pointedly took the seat across from him. Her ally Velanda sat beside her. Assurjan took the chair at the other end of the table, across from Crassius. Though there were two open chairs, Raema remained standing, just behind the Ancient's right shoulder. Dram caught sight of a brief grimace on Yngling Half-Troll's face as he was left with no choice but a chair next to Assurjan. He took it without hesitating, though, knowing none of them could afford to show any fear.

Crassius took his own seat, and began making introductions. Dram listened to the pleasantries with only half an ear, eying their guests and his fellow Hlaalu, instead. Yngling, he noted with amusement, was so obviously not looking at the vampire seated next to him that it was clear his attention was focused nowhere else.

Though he had been most worried about the vampire, it was the Hand that Dram found himself watching, intrigued. Raema kept her attention firmly on the discussion, allowing him to study her. The Bosmer's eyes were naturally dark, but there were shadows behind them that spoke of a different sort of darkness. Dram had seen that look before, in old fighters who'd seen so much death and violence in their lifetimes that it seemed to settle visibly within them. Raema looked far too young to have built up that much experience, but he supposed working for a vampire was hardly an easy job.

Something the Ancient said caught his interest, cutting into his musings over the Wood Elf. "...build something new," Assurjan was saying, in a quiet voice that nonetheless demanded the attention of everyone in the room. "Coexistence."

Silence fell as the Hlaalu leaders glanced at each other. Velanda Omani spoke first, a trace of nervous laughter in her voice. "Forgive me if I seem dubious, Ancient... But I find it difficult to believe that the mortal population can offer anything to make such an arrangement worthwhile for your vampires."

Because you're not a predator, Dram thought, and was gratified to hear the vampire confirm his thoughts. Assurjan folded gloved fingers on the tabletop. "On the contrary, Councilor," he murmured. "Mortals can, and do, provide everything we require. I offer you the chance to benefit from it."

Dram raised his brows, surprised that the Ancient would be so direct. When the implications of his words sank in, several Councilors burst out in protest, but Yngling's voice was loudest. "Surely you don't expect us to agree to- to what? To send our own people to be slaughtered at your hands?"

The Ancient raised an eyebrow at him, then swept the rest of the room's occupants with that disconcerting stare. "Have you no enemies?" He asked, and paused to let that be absorbed. "No criminals deserving of punishment? No one you would like to see... disappear?"

Dram took a sip of his schein, thoughts racing. Anyone at all that they wished to be rid of... send them to the vampires, and they would never be heard from again. Dangerous, but bold. The sort of move that Hlaalu must make if we are to advance ourselves.

Across the table, Nevena Ules' eyes narrowed. "An arrangement that benefits both sides, and yet it cannot be the only reason you are here. I assume you offer to limit your clan's hunting if we agree to provide food; but why would you do such a thing if there were no other benefits for you? What else do you want in return?"

"Tolerance," the vampire replied simply. "Non-aggression. See that we are left undisturbed by vampire hunters, the Temple, and the like. Provide us with... sustenance... of your own choosing, and we will have no need to take it for ourselves. House Hlaalu will be protected, allowed to travel without fear of Juraene clan."

"Food of our own choosing, you say," Dram noted. "Meaning, I suppose, that alternatively you'll take who you will, no matter if they are members of Hlaalu or not?"

"I do not threaten," Assurjan said mildly. "I do not wish to force House Hlaalu into an agreement; there will be no retaliation if you refuse my offer. Neither will there be any special protection for your people. My clan is growing, and in need of nourishment. Without a pledge of protection from House Hlaalu, I see no need to restrict my people's hunting."

"Trade rights, my lord Ancient," Crassius said suddenly, and all eyes in the room shifted to him. "If we are indeed to be allowed to travel in safety, it will open new areas for trade, will it not?"

The vampire inclined his head. "Juraene clan controls the wilderness of the Molag Amur region," he said. "From Bal Ur to Azura's Coast, from Telasero to the Grazelands- an area that was previously under the control of Berne clan. With safe passage granted exclusively to House Hlaalu, you will have new ways of overland travel to Telvanni regions, faster than boats and not subject to the taxes of the Telvanni seaports or the Mages' Guild."

The councilors glanced at each other. Dram could almost hear the calculations beginning in their heads. Crassius, of course, had been trying for months to upset House Telvanni's trade monopoly in the northeast.

"And this Berne clan?" Nevena asked. "Suppose they take exception to our agreement?"

The corner of the vampire's mouth turned upwards, just a bit. "Their Ancient is dead, their few surviving vampires scattered and vulnerable, just as the other two clans. Juraene is the only vampire clan that remains whole, and in power. In time, there will be no vampires on Vvardenfell save those who are under my command."

More silent glances, as the councilors weighed this information. Crassius' eyes narrowed at the Ancient's claim, and Dram filed that detail away to wonder about later.

"What happened to the others?" Dram asked.

Assurjan fixed him with a pale-eyed, inscrutable look. "A complicated tale," he murmured. "Suffice to say that I have little patience for treachery." In the silence that followed the veiled warning, Assurjan spread his hands, giving a smile that, Dram noted, did not reveal any fangs. "It is a beginning, Councilors," he said. "Consider for as long as you like. I have some hours yet before we must depart."

From there, the meeting shifted into a negotiation of sorts, terms offered and rejected and discussed, while Crassius wrote down the occasional agreements on a sheet of parchment. It went on for a long time, until finally the vampire got to his feet, remarking that he must depart in order to reach shelter by dawn. The Hlaalu members also rose, determined to extend every outward courtesy no matter how inwardly reluctant they might be.

Yngling took the opportunity to go and fetch their visitors' cloaks. That left Velanda and Nevena standing closest to the Ancient; they gamely forced themselves into the sort of light conversation that any normal acquaintances might have, discussing the weather and other inanities. Crassius met Dram's eye, then shot a significant glance towards Raema.

"I hope you have a pleasant journey home, sera," Dram said, moving closer to the Bosmer woman. She eyed him flatly, as if gauging his sincerity. He went on, "The weather on the Bitter Coast can be unpredictable, this time of year."

"Thank you," she murmured, still eying him. It wasn't distrust, not quite, but she was definitely wary. "I'm sure we shall be fine, Councilor... Bero, wasn't it?"

He smiled and bowed, thinking better of embellishing the movement. She struck him as the sort that would not be easily impressed by showiness. "Yes, but I'd be honored if you addressed me as Dram. I imagine we shall be working closely together in the future. If I may ask, sera... how did you find yourself in the employ of the Ancient? It is hardly a... commonplace position."

"No," she said, smiling slightly, though that wariness in her eyes deepened. "I am..." she glanced at the Ancient, still engaged in conversation with the two Dunmer women. "In truth, I am a slave. One with a great deal more freedom than most, but a slave nonetheless."

And not happy about it, Dram guessed, if that glance at the vampire was any indication. "Ah," he breathed softly. "And there would be consequences for taking that freedom too far?"

Her eyes softened, not quite looking at anything, as if she were remembering something. Whatever it was, it made her shiver just a little. "Yes," she said simply.

Dram very carefully did not look in Crassius' direction. The Head Councilman was right... and if he were cautious, it might be possible to plant a seed here. He wished he knew more of what Crassius was planning. "So it would seem," he said softly, "that your best chance of freedom would be Juraene's downfall."

Raema's gaze sharpened on him, shrewd and intent, back from wherever her thoughts had gone. At the severity in that gaze he nearly flinched, afraid that he had made a grave error. "I am only thinking aloud," he added placatingly. "This alliance is important to House Hlaalu. I am sure you can imagine, we want to know as much as possible about our new partners, and their motivations."

"Some thoughts can be dangerous," she said flatly, holding his gaze. "Slave or not, I am loyal to Juraene clan and the Ancient."

"Of course," Dram said smoothly, as Yngling finally returned with the Hand's cloak. "And I am glad that our ally has such an honorable individual at his side. I'm sure you are aware of House Hlaalu's reputation- it's true that many of our members are loyal only to the highest bidder." She fastened her cloak about her shoulders as he added carefully, "Such arrangements can be beneficial, though... especially when there are things more precious than gold to offer."

Raema paused in the act of pulling up her hood to stare at him. He met the stare openly, knowing she understood, wondering what she would make of it.

Before she could respond, Crassius swooped in, looking as if he would put an arm about her shoulders, which was enough to make her move away, toward the door. A few more cordial pleasantries were exchanged, and then Raema slipped outside, checking for watchers before the vampire followed her.

The councilors breathed a collective sigh of relief when the door shut behind him. Nevena dropped back into her chair as if her legs were suddenly made of squib jelly.

Crassius Curio dabbed at his sweating forehead with a napkin from the table. "Well," he said cheerily, "That wasn't so bad, now, was it?"

Yngling shot him a glare. "You didn't have to sit next to the n'wah," he said sourly. "I could barely concentrate on the meeting, I was so busy waiting for him to reach over and snatch out my throat."

"Nonsense, Half-Troll- he was perfectly cordial with all of us. What do you think, Councilors?"

There was a long silence. "Can he be trusted?" Dram asked at length.

"I've worked with the Hand, Raema, for some time," Crassius said. "She has given me no reason to distrust her, her master or Juraene clan. In fact, she's... disappointingly honorable. "

Nevena gave an unladylike snort at his words, saving Dram the trouble of doing it himself. Easy enough to guess that Crassius had tried his charms on Raema, and been rebuffed. He felt his own respect for the Hand rise a bit more.

"Be that as it may," Crassius continued, turning a brief glare on Nevena, "A vampire may perhaps be honorable, but he is still a vampire- an undead monster who feeds on the living, and not someone the people of Vvardenfell are willing to tolerate."

"Which makes it so sensible that you have agreed to an alliance with them," Velanda said dryly.

"Come now, my dear... We are House Hlaalu, are we not? We can find a profit in anything. Can no one see the way we might turn this to our advantage... beyond the new trade routes?" Curio eyed each of them in turn.

They frowned at each other, and then Dram spoke quietly, making the connection before the others. "Juraene is the only clan remaining. If we were to play a part in their destruction..."

"-House Hlaalu's reputation would increase immeasurably," Crassius finished. A thoughtful silence fell over the room.

"Dangerous," Velanda said finally. "You heard what he said about treachery; he sent chills down my spine. If we try it and fail..."

"Leave that to me, my dear," Crassius smiled. "But for now, shall we agree to bide our time? I, for one, am eager to take advantage of those new trade routes as soon as possible. And I know I have a list of persons I wouldn't mind turning over to the vampires. Shall we go along, then, and learn what we might about their clan, their strengths and weaknesses? Gain a foothold in Telvanni territory? And later, if we decide to change our minds..."

The other councilors all murmured agreement; once again, Dram could almost see the thoughts racing behind each of their faces as they rose to adjourn. He made a show of taking his time, gathering his cloak and gloves slowly while the others left. After they had gone, Crassius beckoned Dram to take his seat at the table once again.

"So, this privileged information," Dram said. "What exactly are you hiding from the rest of the councilors?"

Crassius poured a few glasses of schein and brought them to the table as he took his seat. "I must admit," he began, "that the idea to rid Vvardenfell of vampires was not my own idea. I was approached by another, who has a great interest in seeing Juraene clan extinguished."

"And who is that?"

"A vampire named Volrina Quarra, an Ancient that Assurjan thinks is dead."

Dram nearly choked on his schein. "Are you mad, Crassius? What use is it to wipe out an entire vampire clan if we are only helping another into power?"

The other councilor held up his hands. "Now, now, don't rush to conclusions. She has given me her word-"

"The word of a vampire. Of course, I'm sure she's very trustworthy," Dram snapped.

Crassius leaned forward over the table. "Hear me out, Dram. Assurjan destroyed her clan; she's left alone, and she is weaker than he is. There are vampire hunters on the island; it'll be easy enough to point them in her direction when we no longer need her. But before we do that, she is eager to help us eradicate Juraene clan... and she has the aid of a vampire with access inside the clan, as well."

Dram was silent for a long moment. "You are mad," he said at last. "But... it might work."

With a smile of satisfaction, Crassius sat back in his chair and sipped at his mug of schein. Dram frowned into his mug, turning the idea over in his head.

"If we attempt this and fail, we make enemies of an entire clan. Your plan will have to be swift. They must all be taken down at once, so they have no time to become enemies. And what of the other vampires the Ancient mentioned, the clanless ones? If we are to take credit for ridding Vvardenfell of vampires, we have more to consider than just Juraene clan."

"That was part of the agreement, was it not?" Crassius reminded him. "Ensuring that the clan is left undisturbed? There are vampire hunters about. So we shall pay one of them to hunt the others down and leave Juraene alone."

Dram blinked as the ramifications of that sank in. "Both fulfilling our promise and preparing to wipe them out all together," he murmured thoughtfully. "I like the way you think."

"Of course you do," Crassius chuckled. "Would you like to take care of it?"

Dram leaned back in his chair, downing the last of his drink. "I know just the man."

The night was cool, the air clear- a welcome change after the stuffy atmosphere inside the Hlaalu Council manor. Stars still sparkled overhead, but they were fading into a pale glow in the east. They had made it out of Balmora without being seen, fortunately; the councilors had been very clear in their wish to keep the alliance secret. It wouldn't do to let themselves be caught in the town just after the meeting.

Raema cast a sideways glance at Assurjan, striding next to her; he was just barely visible as a flowing shadow in the darkness. The meeting had gone better than she'd anticipated. Of all the traits Assurjan bore, she'd never guessed that diplomacy was one of them.

He kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead as they walked, and Raema stifled a sigh. She had not traveled with him like this since the night he first brought her to Juraene clan's lair... but she had to imagine that if things were different, they might have spent the journey in easy conversation. Even uneasy conversation would have been better than the stony silence that lay between them now. She had meant what she'd said to him, that morning after her cure, but she hadn't realized just how awkward things would become after she said it. She could find no trace of familiarity in his manner, any more... he treated her with a cool, business-like formality that belied everything that had happened between them.

That's what you wanted, isn't it? Asked a cynical voice in her head, and she scowled. She had wanted to protect herself, protect her trust from another betrayal...

But she hadn't wanted isolation. She hadn't wanted him to retreat so far from her that she could no longer reach him.

And what did you expect him to do? The voice replied. You said you wanted nothing to do with him, after he only did what was necessary to save your life. Did you truly expect him to accept that and yet treat you no differently?

Biting her lip, Raema shoved the voice away and forced herself to focus on watching for danger, refusing to think about it any longer.

Gray, pre-dawn light was just beginning to illuminate the path as they approached their shelter for the day- the same cave that they had used on her first journey to Juraene clan. It had become one of several shelters that the clan maintained around the island, places where the vampires could safely wait out the day when they found themselves too far from the lair. Assurjan strode up the hill to the cavern entrance, slipping a key from his sleeve.

"There is still some time before full daylight," he said quietly, glancing over his shoulder at her. In his voice, she could hear the faint, grating echoes that signaled a growing hunger. "Time enough for me to hunt. I shall return soon."

Raema had wondered if this would happen; he hadn't fed since they left Telasero, two nights ago. She shook her head. "It is too near dawn, my lord," she said, surprised at how steady her own voice sounded. "I... I am here, and you needn't endanger yourself to feed from me."

Assurjan turned to face her, his eyes glimmering faintly, one eyebrow raised. Raema swallowed, hard. Being drained of her strength was not an experience she was eager to repeat.

"I will not ask this of you, Hand," he said calmly. "I know you are not truly willing."

She took a deep, shaky breath. "Better me, my lord, than any innocent traveler you will find to prey upon."

"Do you think so?" Assurjan asked in a near-whisper. His eyes closed briefly; when he opened them, their hungry glow had become a blazing, ethereal fire. "Do not tempt me, Raema," he hissed, in a voice fractured by need. "I thirst for blood tonight, not power... and not enough flows in your veins to sate me."

The words were frightening, but it was not fear that made her heart start fluttering wildly. Under the hungry layers in his voice, she heard more feeling than he had directed towards her in weeks. And he hasn't called me by my name in so long...

He held her with his burning gaze for a long moment, and then he was gone, faded into the darkness as if he had never been there.

Muttering a curse, not sure who she was angry at, Raema shoved open the cavern's door and went in search of a light.

When she had found and lit the few candles they had left the day before, she sat cross-legged on her bedroll, unwilling to sleep until the Ancient had returned. And he'd better return, she thought crossly, telling herself she was not worried for him. I do not want to go looking for him if he doesn't return by sunrise.

Shaking her head ruefully at herself, she pulled her sword from its scabbard to tend it while she waited.

It wasn't long before she felt him returning to the cave. She could sense his presence now, if he were close enough- a residual effect of her time as a vampire. He had been gone only a few minutes, it seemed. She wondered who he had found to feed himself in such a short time, then decided she didn't want to know. While he might be willing to leave his prey alive after he fed on their strength, she knew a blood feeding would leave nothing but an empty corpse behind. The thought didn't bother her as much as it once had, she realized with regret.

He moved through the cave with the animal grace that she knew so well, and settled down cross-legged across from her. Surprised, she set aside her sword and the stone she'd been sharpening it with.

"We have a lesson to continue," Assurjan said.

Raema blinked. "Now?" She had hoped to have some time to spend outside, enjoying the sunlight while he sheltered inside the cave.

He raised an eyebrow. "We have more than nine hours before sunset," he pointed out. "Did you plan to sleep the entire day?"

Raema huffed out a sharp breath. If only I could sleep, she thought. The lifting of her vampire curse had not yet eased the nightmares that plagued her sleep; it was still so bad that she'd begun to dread dozing off. Despite that, she wasn't sure that Assurjan's insistence on teaching her Destruction was preferable.

"No, my lord," she murmured. "Where should I begin?"

"Fire," he told her, like always. "The manifestation only."

Resigned, Raema took a deep breath and turned her focus inward, drawing up the image she associated with the fire spell. Her lips and fingers moved, soundlessly giving shape to the words and signs of the spell. A spark of flame snapped into existence before her, then winked out just as suddenly, leaving a puff of smoke hanging in the air between her and Assurjan. She muttered a curse.

"Again," the Ancient said calmly. Scowling, Raema tried again, with the same results. He had only begun teaching her a few weeks ago, but each lesson was more frustrating than the last. She had no talent for the Destruction school of magic, but, for some reason she was unable to fathom, Assurjan was determined that she should learn. She'd never been able to manifest the fire spell for longer than an instant. Assurjan was patient with her, never rebuking her for her failures, and that was just as frustrating- Even her complete ineptitude for sorcery was not enough to break the carefully expressionless mask he wore now.

Still, she thought wryly, he said my name earlier. That has to be a good sign. A third failed flame left another plume of smoke between them.

Abruptly, Assurjan leaned forward to catch her hand in his, and Raema's heart lurched into her throat. His black leather glove was cool against her skin as he adjusted the positioning of her fingers slightly. Did he linger there longer than necessary, or was he only confirming the adjustment he'd made? He pulled back before she could decide.

"Again," he repeated. Swallowing hard, Raema reached again for the mental image of the fire spell- and found only a memory of that same hand, ungloved, sliding over her bare skin in an intimate caress.

Idiot, she snapped at herself, realizing that his waiting gaze was still on her. You're acting like a lovesick child. Concentrate! With an effort, she pushed the memory away, and a fiery sphere flared into being before her, hovering there for a heartbeat before disappearing in a miniature explosion.

"Better," Assurjan allowed, appearing unfazed by the small blast.

Gritting her teeth, Raema waved away the resulting smoke. "Again, my lord?"

The Ancient eyed her briefly, then shook his head. "Not yet. You are likely to kill us both with anything more than that, uncontrolled. Clear your thoughts before you try again."

Raema let her hands drop to her lap, struggling to follow his advice. Her concentration had been elusive lately. If it wasn't the nightmares that disrupted it, it was thoughts of Assurjan... and things were no better now, not with him sitting an arm's length away. Silence fell in the cave, suddenly awkward, and she found herself casting about for something to say, something to fill that silence.

"Did you mean what you said to the Hlaalu, my lord?" she asked, the first question that came to her mind. "About coexisting with them?"

His brows twitched at the change in subject, but he answered easily enough. "I did. Juraene clan is still weak. We need allies, and both I and House Hlaalu have something to offer the other. It will be better to work with one ally in secret, rather than alone, when every other faction on Vvardenfell that opposes us."

"If we succeed," Raema said. She had to agree that the Ancient had a point, but she wasn't entirely certain that they would be able to maintain good relations with the House. Something would go wrong, she was sure. One of the vampires would kill an off-limits Hlaalu member, or...

"If we succeed," Assurjan agreed. He fixed her with a calm stare, ending the discussion. "Now. Try again."

Holding in a sigh, Raema raised her hands again. Even the nightmares are starting to sound better than these interminable lessons, she thought, but she obeyed.