Time to end that cliffhanger, you think? Interestingly, the female Speaker was originally going be an OC – the Speaker of Cheydinhal before Lucien, in fact. But then I realised I didn't have to put an OC in the story, when there was a perfectly suitable game character already there.
Unfortunately Enthralled – chapter seven
When the Speaker next enters his room, he already knows from the man's expression what the answer to his question will be.
But still he asks, hoping, for the first time in his life, that he is wrong: "Did Banus...?"
Speaker's face is a solemn, stony mask, so unreadable that he can interpret exactly what it means: "Come with me."
They walk wordlessly out of the sanctuary, out of the ghostly-quiet Leyawiin and back to the abandoned lodge where his trial began, and where it will end. Speaker doesn't say a thing, but he doesn't need to; if Banus had succeeded, he would have been the one to enter Uvani's room, no doubt regaling him with an account of his latest and deadliest contract. The walk to the lodge seems like the longest journey he's ever made, but when they finally reach the building, it feels as though everything's happening too soon. Speaker procures a key to let them through the front door, and locks it again behind them. No escape. No running away from the task that awaits him.
He's led to another door, and at last spoken to: "He's through there. The watching Speaker healed most of his injuries, but he's still unconscious. You needn't even wake him up."
As if that's a comfort. But he says nothing.
"Uvani?"
Nothing.
"I'm sorry."
"No," Uvani corrects him quietly, "You're not. The Black Hand has neither regret nor remorse for its actions."
"So it has always been," the Speaker replies just as hushed, echoing their last meeting. This is the way of the Dark Brotherhood: harsh, merciless, and unapologetic. Everything that Uvani is. Everything that Banus is not.
He enters the doorway, hearing it shut behind him with a soft click. Before him is what was once a bedroom, though now grey and aged, dust not so much drifting but stationary in the air, like suspended snowfall. And on a bed withered by the years, so young and vivid and unlike the dead environment, is the boy whose life he is about to take.
Banus means a great deal to him, probably more than anyone he has ever met. But looking at it logically – reason without emotion, as an assassin should think – choosing between Banus and the Brotherhood is not difficult. Only one can offer him a home, a lifestyle, a network of contacts for whatever he may need. Only one can offer him a career as an assassin, without which he is no more than a murderer with an array of Destruction spells. Useful for killing people, but little else.
He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking with his weight – and, as if he senses his presence, Banus wakes. How pretty his Dunmer-red eyes look, framed by the long, dark lashes that Uvani never really paid attention to before. And how smooth his dusky skin is, unmarked by age or hardship, a few shades darker and bluer than Alval's. Many people claim all Dark Elves look the same, but Uvani can see the differences between them as clearly as night and day.
"Uvani...?" Banus asks, struggling to see in the darkness, "Is that you?"
A part of him wants to remain silent, wants Alor to go back to sleep, because a conversation will make this all the harder on him. On the other hand, he can't bring himself to kill the boy without hearing his voice one last time, without seeing his smile so serene and otherworldly that it belongs on nothing less than a saint.
"It's me," he replies at last, forcing any emotion out of his voice, "Don't sit up...you'll aggravate your wounds."
"So you were the one watching...did you save me again, Uvani?" Banus murmurs, and Uvani hasn't the resolve to tell him no, "That's the second time you've rescued me. I've never had a guardian angel before."
He shifts uncomfortably and glances away – he's been called many things, but an angel isn't one them. Truthfully he prefers the insults, because he can shrug them off without a second thought, but this is something else entirely. "Banus-" he begins,
And at the curious fingertips that brush his jaw, freezes at once.
"Sorry," Alor whispers, but makes absolutely no move to take his fingers away, "I've been waiting to touch your skin again. Your wrist..." he doesn't finish the sentence, just gazes at Uvani with a peculiar, quiet enthrallment. His pupils are dilated, Alval notices, comes to the conclusion that Banus, in his semi-conscious state, has very little control over what is currently being said.
"You know," Banus continues, with just enough slowness to his words to convince Uvani that the younger doesn't realise what he's saying, "I really do like you, Uvani..."
"Banus," he interrupts firmly, taking hold of the boy's hands as they trail down to his neck, "You're injured, and you need rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."
It almost breaks him to say that, because there isn't going to be a tomorrow. But Banus, trusting and innocent, nods sleepily and relaxes onto the bed, oblivious to the fact that he is not in the sanctuary. Within minutes his breathing has evened out to that of slumber, and Uvani knows what must be done.
It is far better, he continuously reminds himself, that Banus dies here than at the hands of another, like the mage – who, going by all the dried blood Uvani can see on Alor's clothes, put up a vicious fight. But Uvani can end this quickly and painlessly, a mercy he has never shown his other victims; he much prefers the spectacular kills of fire, frost and shock. Instead, he readies the drain spell that will leave no marks, vermilion twirling around his fingers as he lifts his hand, and-
"Uvani."
-Stops. Standing in the doorway is Speaker, still cool and calm, giving nothing away. And next to him is a woman he's never seen before, much taller than her counterpart, almost towering over him; though the hood of her robe conceals most of her features, he can just make out the golden sheen to her skin, and her lips, curved into a faint smile.
"Speaker...?" Uvani says, though he isn't sure which question to ask first.
And Speaker, who has the annoying habit of not answering questions directly, merely replies: "Your task is complete. Follow me."
He glances back at Banus, who is still very much alive – but Speaker has already started walking away, so he follows. The woman, on the other hand, steps into the room, passing Uvani as she approaches the sleeping Elf; as he turns to look, he sees her lift him from the bed with relatively little effort.
He does not wait for Speaker to stop walking before demanding to know: "Who is that woman? Where is she taking Banus?"
"Back to Leyawiin," the man tells him without a pauses in his stride, "And she is Speaker Arquen, of the Kvatch sanctuary. She was the one observing Banus, and the one he owes his clemency to."
"So I don't have to kill him?" Speaker shakes his head, "Does that mean he passed his trial?"
"Technically, no. He would have died of his injuries without Arquen's intervention," he is told, "However, she noted that most of the blood loss was not caused by the target, but an old wound that was re-opened during the fight." The claymore injury, then. He feels a twinge of guilt for not giving Alor fresh bandages, but reminds himself that he was forbidden from helping him in any way; "Also, he did kill the target and complete the contract, but at what would have been the cost of his own life. The Black Hand were pleasantly surprised at his dedication, and have decided to spare him."
He can't help but feel angry: he has been strung along, played like a puppet by his supposed 'family', "Then why was I led to believe he had failed?"
"So that you could also prove your worth," Speaker shrugs, no apology in his tone, true to the methods of the Brotherhood, "There was no need to inform you when we could proceed to test your loyalty, and intervene before anything occurred. Arquen and I stepped in when we saw that you would keep to your mission, and there was no unnecessary bloodshed."
"Beyond Banus' injuries, of course."
"He will be rewarded for his efforts."
"What do you mean?"
"Speaker Arquen was rather impressed with his performance. She praised his tactical approach in particular, and his use of Destruction magic," that you taught him, he can see in Speaker's secretive little smile, but the man does not voice this, "She mentioned a few reckless mistakes, but a great deal of potential. Enough to convince the Black Hand that an advancement is in order."
One minute they want him dead and the next they want him promoted...the Black Hand, it seems, enjoys keeping everyone on their toes.
"I expect Banus already knows that this was no regular contract," Speaker continues, "You're not to reveal anything, of course-"
"-In the interests of secrecy?" Uvani guesses with a grimace. He has always preferred blunt honesty or blunt denial, not these intricate little half-truths that seem to do more harm than help. He also doesn't like manipulating Banus, but that's another issue.
"That...and the interests of peacekeeping. Most people don't take too kindly to being used as a pawn," the man answers, chuckling, and Uvani doesn't see what's so funny, but Speaker often looks amused for no apparent reason, so he doesn't read into it that much, "I'll tell Banus that the contract was a skill assessment, which he passed, sending him to the rank of Assassin."
"And of my promotion?"
He shrugs; "There will be no great change. Some Speakers devise creative means of giving their assassins contracts, but given how often I visit the sanctuary, it's easier just to inform you of the details in person. Over time, I will teach you the duties of a Speaker, so that you might one day succeed me."
"Why not teach me them straight away?"
Speaker raises an eyebrow; "I did that with my last protégé, then he went and died. Explaining the same thing over and over gets very boring, you know."
He's almost offended at the insinuation, "I'm not incompetent-"
"-But you're not invincible. Patience, Uvani...you'll join the Black Hand, in time. For now you should return to the sanctuary, and perhaps tend to Banus," Speaker unlocks and opens the door to the cool night air, and Uvani realises he has been led straight to the exit, "I believe the two of you have some things to discuss when he wakes up, hm?"
A distinctly mortified feeling, much akin to ice, seizes Uvani's veins, "What do you-"
"Have a safe journey home," he is ushered outside and although he can't see the man's face, Alval has no doubt that Speaker is grinning, "And I will visit you in due time. Goodnight...Silencer."