Edited/Fixed/Tweaked as of 19-08-2015
Chapter 13
"Good morning, Arch-Mage," Cirilonde's voice chimed. Tolfdir looked up from the fresh, new pile of letters which he was responding to one by one. "You look like you could use some help."
"Oh no, child. I should be done with this by the end of the day." He waved his hand at it in dismissal. "I was about to head down and host my class." He swiped the bread and cheese crumbs from his robes and plucked them out his beard.
"Ah, I just got back from another morning session with Master Sergius to help restock the soul gems, so I'm free if you have use of me," she said as she scanned a few letters with dull, typical inquiries and other letters the sort.
"That's most kind of you, dear. Perhaps, if you will, can you send these along their way with the pigeons before they cover the tower floor with their excrement again?" He held the small pile of letters up; some folded, some rolled up and sealed.
"I will, I should be back shortly…" She made to take it from him, but he held them, looking her in the eyes.
"Since we are alone, I would like to ask you…" The old Nord's voice had hushed down. "Do you trust him?"
"That's a simple question with a complex answer." Not exactly a fair question, either.
He still held on to the little pile, however. "Don't get too close, Ciri dear," he warned. "We don't really know him and what's going on in that mind of his." He then cleared his throat and got up as the Dwemer clockwork on his desk chimed eleven times. "Well, time for me to go. I should be back at about two in the afternoon."
Cirilonde stood at the desk as she pondered the intent behind Tolfdir's words. Granted, Ancano was still a Thalmor, something she'd tried to ignore. But did she trust him? Perhaps, he indeed was biding his time, but how would it benefit him to betray them after all they'd done for him? Not to mention he had cooperated with the ruse, but again, could be to keep his own nose clean.
She tried to discard the thought, thinking the Nord far too paranoid, but as she walked up the steps to the tower, her mind sank into deep contemplation. The pigeons fluttered about, startled, the owls screeched in protest and the eagles just glared at her.
"Well, good morning to you too," she grumbled, as she tied the letters to the birds' legs. Initially, this wasn't a problem, but the cold, harsh wind had soon numbed her fingers. She hissed and jerked her hand back from a grumpy, old owl that had moodily nipped at her fingers. "Blasted birds." She hissed, sucking on the finger that bled before healing it. After calming the owl's ill temper, she sent the last letter off and peered down the tower at the College grounds. She immediately recognized the familiar silhouette of Ancano who made his way across the courtyard, but the flutter in her stomach alarmed her and she understood why Tolfdir had warned her.
She ran a hand through her hair. I know he's a Thalmor and they've done horrible, terrible things, but the old man doesn't understand they're not all bad. Anciel was one of them …
She glanced up at the sun that dared peek through the clouds and she let her mind wander.
As she passed the nobles, princes and magi, Cirilonde kept on the lookout for her father and brother. She found them but they were talking with Lord Exarch Tauryoncil Highal the Wise and his son, Taurmillan. She didn't want to risk embarrassing her family by approaching uninvited and remained in the background, sipping at the wine she was poured by a servant.
Nothing escaped Taurmillan's eyes, however, and his eyes locked on the High Elven maiden, whose hair shone in the lights, woven together with a headdress made of pearls. She wore a black and golden, ornate dress-robe with a golden sash, which gracefully hugged her figure without revealing too much. His conversation partners followed his gaze.
"She seems to be waiting for you, General Valanocke…" Taurmillan looked at the fellow stood next to him, clad in polished, elven armor. His golden-blond hair, beard and moustache were neatly kempt and trimmed, as to be expected from a General.
"I apologize, Lord Commander, that is my sister. She hasn't seen me in months and no doubt came looking for me to catch up." Anciel wasn't as confident as he sounded, hoping her appearance wasn't mistaken as rude.
Tauryoncil gave a humorless chuckle as he looked at the general's father. "You carry a fine lineage, Lord Falintaor. You never mentioned you had a daughter." He had noticed the flicker in his son's eyes and was all too familiar with it.
"You would honor me if you were to permit me to introduce her to the both of you Lords," said Falintaor.
While Cirilonde's mind wandered, she had begun to channel the flames again like Ancano had shown her. This went well, until she turned and the gout of flame nearly hit Ancano, but with the flick of his wrist, he took control of the blazing heat and steered it away from him, back to her.
"I see you've made progress," he observed while the flames went back and forth between them again.
She nodded, but the success wasn't for long, because the moment they met eyes, Tolfdir's warning echoed in her mind and she dispelled the flames before risking injury either to him or herself. She sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"You don't trust me." Again she saw that typical, calculating flicker in his eyes. "Don't deny it. I've watched you a bit before I came up here and it was fine until I came up."
"It's…complex, due the nature of a conversation I had with someone earlier." She knew he could handle it. He had a thick skin but still she was hesitant to say what she did. "I want to trust you, I even think I do…but there's the conflict of your interests between the College and the Thalmor."
"If it's any reassurance, the secret of the Eye's existence is safe with me. The Thalmor would no doubt abuse it, but the same would happen if it was in the hands of the Empire or Stormcloaks. I even doubt the Psijics just 'study' it." Ancano had folded his hands behind his back to hide the clenching and relaxing motion of his fingers.
"Which is why I trust you." Her gaze didn't waver from his until she noticed his hands. "You seem conflicted as well. Ganir, no doubt, because he's Dragonborn; the very embodiment what the Dominion seeks to extinguish."
Again the subtle flicker in his eyes. "Quite the observation, but correct," he said as he joined her side to look down at the College grounds. "However, that's a matter of semantics. He's not a worshipper of, nor does he claim to be an incarnation of Talos. So I see no reason to make a fuss. And as long as there's no inquiries, we should be fine, in which case I'd still feign ignorance."
"That's not all." In short time she had spent with him, she had learned the subtle and calculated language of his body, which was no doubt trained to betray as little emotion or intent possible, even by Altmer standards.
He chuckled; a most pleasant sound in her ears despite its bitter undertone. She knew him far too well…which was a problem. He couldn't afford to fall for her because of the situation at hand, nor could he let her get too close. She'd been hurt enough. He stared ahead of him for a moment, pondering how to phrase his words. "This morning an eagle arrived from the Thalmor Embassy in Solitude," he started. "I've been summoned to report in person which isn't a problem. Dull inquiries and confirmations. But it also appears they intend to reassign me elsewhere."
He too, had paid attention to her from the moment she arrived and more intently so as of late. Far too intently. There was that look in her eyes again. It wasn't anger or anything close to that. Instead, she fell silent for a moment as the words sank in and she stared away into the distance. "So you will be leaving us…"
"It perhaps would be for the best as all this will be more likely to be forgotten about." He wanted too, but couldn't ignore this odd, empty feeling in his stomach as he said this. He looked at her as the veil of white-golden locks swayed in the wind and the fashion in which she bit her lip.
So you can forget about all of us…She hadn't thought she'd be able to care about him as much as she did because he was a snarky, arrogant bat most of the time, but she learned he was but protective of himself and held very high standards both to himself and others. But he had change and she couldn't deny the feelings she had developed for him, but knew it wouldn't change anything, nor did she feel it was appropriate, so she remained silent.
"I should get going…" He turned away and made to leave, but her trembling hand grabbed hold of his.
She struggled to keep a straight, strong face to hide her emotions, but the fact she wouldn't look him in the eyes for long betrayed her. "Know that the College will always be a safe haven for you, Ancano."
He gave a curt nod and let go of her hand. "Thanks to you." He turned and looked at her over his shoulder a final time. "Farewell."
Delphine leaned against the table that stood in the cellar of the Sleeping Giant Inn from where she ran her operations. Again and again, she could see it all happen again before her eyes, how the flesh was stripped from the dragon's bones and its entire being was absorbed to become part of the moody, vampire that stood in front of her.
"I owe you some answers, don't I?" she finally said. "Go ahead. Whatever you want to know. Nothing held back."
"Well, I know you're a Blade," Ganir said. Granted, whenever he thought back of any of the fights against the dragons, he got a brief rush of adrenaline and would it have been able, his heart would have begun to race, but after defeating three dragons and absorbing their very essence to become part of his, it seemed almost…normal? He still wasn't really sure how to feel about it, save that he was in deep, deep trouble. There simply wasn't another word for it but he decided he'd make the best out of it while it lasted. "What I wonder is what you want with me and are there more of you?"
She shook her head. "I'm one of the last members of the Blades and have no idea of my comrades' whereabouts. A very long time ago, the Blades were dragon slayers, and we served the Dragonborn; the ultimate dragon slayer. For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose. With the return of the dragons, this is now clear. We need to stop them."
"You seem to know a lot about the dragons." He looked at the parchment copy of the dragon stone. "So I suppose you could tell me what you know of their return."
"In all honesty, not a damn thing." Delphine gripped at her own hair with a sigh of frustration. "I was just as surprised as you to find that big, black dragon here."
"I've seen him before," Ganir said. "The black dragon, I mean."
Delphine's expression was one of disbelief. "Really? Where?"
"Helgen. It's a long story," he replied. "By an unfortunate series of events, I caught got in a skirmish with a friend where the Imperials captured Ulfric and we were brought to Helgen for execution. The execution, logically, never transpired, because that dragon attacked."
Delphine furrowed her brow in contemplation. "Interesting. Same dragon… Damn it!" She slammed her fist down on the table, startling Ganir as he'd been looking at the Akaviri blade on the wall. "We're blundering around in the dark here! We need to figure out who's behind it all!"
"So you haven't a clue as to what our next move is?" He raised a brow. Surely he hadn't gone through all this effort just to prove some stranger he was Dragonborn; an unnecessary, terrible risk. It didn't help he was a vampire to begin with. At the College, it didn't bother anyone because they knew and trusted him and mages generally were more…lenient when it came to such matters, but outside of that…
"The first thing we need to do, is figure out who's behind the dragons." She said with renewed determination as she paced back and forth. "The Thalmor are our best lead. If they aren't involved, they'll at least know who is."
"You're joking, right?" He snorted. "By what deduction do you think the Thalmor have any involvement in bringing the dragons back?"
"Nothing solid," she admitted with reluctance, but then glared at Ganir. "Yet. But my guts tell me it can't be anybody else."
Grasping at straws again. He refrained from growling in annoyance.
"Think about it then. You said so yourself!" she exclaimed. "The Empire had captured Ulfric. The civil war was basically over. Then a dragon attacks, Ulfric escapes and the war is back on. And now the dragons are attacking everywhere, indiscriminately. Skyrim is weakened. The Empire is weakened…Who else gains from that but the Thalmor?"
"And I suppose you think if we ask them nicely, they'll be happy to just tell us?" He spat sarcastically. "Have you even thought about how you want to go about this?"
"I do, actually." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Make no mistake, I have operated alone, but I do have my connections, including at the Thalmor Embassy of Solitude. His name's Malborn, a Wood Elf…"
"No. Oh no!" He protested right away. "Before we do anything as stupid and suicidal as that, I suggest we speak to a fellow by the name of Ancano; coincidentally a Thalmor who owes me quite the favor. If he doesn't know, then you're free to break into the Embassy."
"I'm not going, but you will be going." Delphine's eyes didn't waver from his. "I would be recognized right away. I don't care what you think, but I know you agree with me that it's at least possible that the Thalmor are involved in some way."
Her theory and plans weren't just insane and suicidal, they sounded downright ludicrous! Yet, having seen Ancano's prowess in the arts of magic, Ganir wouldn't put it past any, even more powerful Thalmor mage to be capable of reanimating a dead dragon. However, this black dragon, Alduin, hadn't exactly looked dead, but what if they had obtained some, powerful artefact. No, that was unlikely, but at the same time, he couldn't ignore the facts the dragons couldn't have just popped up out of nowhere. It would be a start, in any case.
In the meantime, Ancano had made his way to Solitude on horseback. He winded up the path to the Thalmor Embassy, but he pulled at the reins to halt the horse. He'd tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his head; this doubt that gnawed at him and how his mind would constantly wander back to the College. He'd had half the heart to turn, but knew he couldn't get out from under this and deep down, he knew it was for the best to just forget about all of this.
He'd never been stationed anywhere as long as he had been here, nor was he one to form friendships easily; few people interested him. Despite the odd disposition between him and the members of the College and what had transpired, they had forgiven him and given him a new chance. Some even had shown respect after the dragon's appearance. He was all too aware that Cirilonde hadn't only cared for him, but also seemed to care about him; at least, enough to treat him the way she had. He held no securities, but made no delusional, arrogant assumptions either she felt what he felt for her.
He grit his teeth, shaking his head as if shaking the thoughts out of his mind. Focus. You need to forget about this. He carried on his way to the Embassy, where the guard had been doubled. Another one of your parties, Elenwen? He thought sarcastically, thankful he'd never been hassled into attending. No doubt it would be later this week. By then he'd be long gone off to Auri-El knew where.
He dismounted near the entrance and made his way in to the lobby where he was greeted by a scrawny Wood Elf, with large, brown eyes and a wild mess of brown hair. "Welcome. Was Milady the First Emissary Elenwen expecting you?"
"Would I be here otherwise?" he waved a dismissive hand at the Wood Elf. "I know the way."
He walked across the hall and up the stairs. The servants made broad way for him even though he overheard how busy they were with the preparations for the part Elenwen would host in a few days. He left the stairwell of the second floor and opened the door to a hall, where he received a 'most warm' welcome as he opened the door and nearly bumped into a stately High Elf, who wore Thalmor robes like he, except his robes were adorned with the insignias befitting the rank of Third Emissary. He was taller than Ancano and had a beard that emphasized the haughty expression on his face.
"Forgive me, Third Emissary Rulindil." Ancano bowed his head.
"Mind your step, operative." Rulindil hissed with disdain before he entered his own office, which was next to Elenwen's of which the entry was sided by the statues of eagles. As he waited, he noticed that despite all activity on the lower levels, it was strangely quiet here, but no doubt Elenwen wouldn't tolerate being hassled by scurrying handmaidens and servants. It didn't silence the nagging feeling at the back of his mind, though, which he tried to ignore. He had to practice the answers to the potential questions he would most likely be asked.
It wasn't long before a pair of guards came to retrieve him, but rather than Elenwen's office, they took him up another stairway, separate from the stairwell he'd come from, to the Solar; Elenwen's private, personal quarters in the Embassy.
Elenwen stood by the window and turned when Ancano entered, sided by guards. "Leave us," she said to them, who immediately obeyed. "I must say, my dearest Ancano, you have been quite busy."
Elenwen was a prodigy; a perfect example of the ideal High Elven female in the eyes of the Thalmor. She was tall, attractive, postured and most elegant. But Ancano knew much better. Elenwen was like a sleek feline, her slanted eyes immediately locking on him. Her painted lips curled into a predatory, but insincere smile as she walked over to him.
"As is to be expected from a Thalmor operative." He pulled back from her talon-like fingers, but she grabbed his hair and pulled herself towards him, pushing him against the wardrobe and kissed him. She bit his lip while her free hand grabbed hold of his as he made to protest. In spite of himself, he groaned but managed to pull away. "What's this now? Surely you don't begrudge me still. It's been years."
"Years or no, I remember as though it were yesterday." He took a sharp breath as she pushed her leg between his and ground her hips against his groin.
She mockingly clacked her tongue. "That begrudging glare becomes you so well…" her tongue trailed along his neck and he shuddered in pleasure when she began to suck at the sweet spot just below his ear. It took all his restraint to not groan. Her lips curled into a feline smirk. She knew his weaknesses. Or so she thought, because he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back.
"I believe I made myself rather clear after that night," he whispered menacingly.
"It had to be done. They were nothing but lowlife dissidents-,"
"There were innocent families!" Disgusted, he let go of her.
She shook her head and chuckled; a cold insincere sound. "It is exactly why I am the First Emissary and you but an Operative. You. Are. Weak."
"Frowning upon genocide has nothing to do with weakness but standards." He bit back.
"Standards?" Her eyes held a malicious glimmer. "Such as withholding information?" He froze and swallowed. "The report you sent me, dearest, was flawless, but you oversaw a minor flaw, named Estormo…"
His jaw clenched. He thought Ganir had killed Estormo in Labyrinthian. Apparently not. How could he have been so stupid himself for just assuming so?!
She had always been faster and far more vicious than he'd been, and her fingers wrapped around his throat after a swift spell to silence his connection to the arcane. Her lips nearly brushed against his ear. "Tell me, what was so powerful it left a ripple in its wake that was felt in Dawnstar and Windhelm before it just disappeared."
"How…What are you talking about?!" He denied.
A slow applause made Ancano look past Elenwen. She pulled away from Ancano as the man who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, had his guards restrain Ancano. When he saw the ring around the man's finger, Ancano knew he was in big trouble. He bore the signet of a Lord Exarch…
"Ever as efficient, First Emissary." The compliment wasn't very sincere. "I will be taking it from here…I already know enough." His cold, gray eyes then locked on Ancano and narrowed. "Such a pity to hear that a most prominent agent such as yourself has sullied the Thalmor name." The man's voice was rich, clear but cold. "Not to worry, however. Rest assured whatever little rebellion you hoped to start from Winterhold I will quench by razing it to the ground after I've retrieved my betrothed and found whatever you've hidden away from us."
"You won't find it and they won't tell." Ancano spat defiantly. Aside from the disdainful and haughty fashion this man carried himself, even by Altmer standards, Ancano knew, like Elenwen, this man wouldn't care over how many corpses he had to step to obtain or achieve what he wanted.
"We'll see…" said the Lord Exarch, unimpressed. "Not that it will be of consequence to you as you won't be alive to hear or see of it. Take him away."
Ganir rubbed his temples. Had this just been for Delphine, he would have refused. So be it if the Thalmor were behind it. He'd slay every, single dragon that crossed his path. But after visiting the College, he met with Cirilonde, who told him Ancano had left for the Embassy to be reassigned. She voiced her fears and distrust for the worst. After showing him the letter she had J'Zhargo steal from Ancano's chambers, he too didn't like it. His assignment's dossier wasn't closed and he'd be reassigned. He was the loose end and no doubt they would take care of him.
He wasn't going to pretend that he liked Ancano, but in a strange way, the snarky bat had grown on him, and clearly, Cirilonde had grown to care about him. Of all the men in this world…
"- The Thalmor Ambassador, Elenwen, regularly throws parties where the rich and connected cozy up to the Thalmor." Delphine couldn't suppress her disgust as it was beyond her how anyone would betray the Empire in such a fashion. "I can get you into one of those parties. Once you're inside the Embassy, you get away and find Elenwen's secret files."
And Ancano.
"Like I told you, I have a contact; a Wood Elf, named Malborn. He works at the Embassy and while he's not up for this kind of high-risk mission, he can help you."
Ganir narrowed his eyes. "How are you even so sure we can trust this s'wit?"
"He has plenty of reason to hate the Thalmor. He lost his whole family due to those 'cleansings' you never hear about." A cold shudder ran down Delphine's spine. These Thalmor were monsters without a conscience. It boggled her mind that Ganir and the College's Advisor were intent on saving this…Ancano as well, if he was even alive still. "I'll get word for Malborn to meet you in Solitude at the Winking Skeever. While you take care of that, I'll make arrangements for you to get an invitation to Elenwen's little 'party'. We'll meet up at the Solitude stables once you've arranged things with Malborn."
He nodded. You better hang on, Ancano. I'll rip every single one of their throats out.
