Warning: may cause tooth decay.
Unfortunately Enthralled – chapter eight
So he's been promoted to Assassin.
A force-promotion, really, since he was either going to pass his test, or die in the process. Of course, he would have died, had he not been healed by the person assessing him; he'd thought it was Uvani at the time, but now his memory is clearer, the voice he'd heard in the Ayleid ruins had definitely been female.
But despite the end he should have met, he still passed his test. Due to the aptitude he showed, Speaker had informed him, and potential. The Black Hand seems to prefer potential in its newest members to actual talent. After all, Murderers who already possess all the necessary skills do not need the Brotherhood for anything but money, and loyalty based on gold is a fickle thing indeed. But those with potential owe their development to the family – they cannot stray from the very people who made them.
What both Speaker and the rest of the Black Hand have miscalculated, however, is that Banus owes nothing to the Brotherhood. Granted, it is through the Brotherhood that he met the person who did teach him all he knew: from his array of Destruction spells to the basics of Alchemy. But as far as he's concerned, he is indebted only to Alval Uvani.
On the subject of the Dunmer, and his no-longer-opaque memory...Banus also recalls those few fleeting moments of consciousness between almost dying and waking up to a promotion; that solemn, almost pained look on Uvani's face as he gazed through the darkness, the hushed tone of his voice, his discomfort at being touched. Banus remembers his own words as well, namely the fact that he said far, far more than he should have, though at least Uvani had interrupted him before it really got out of hand. We'll talk more tomorrow,the Dark Elf had told him, but tomorrow had come and gone, and the topic remained un-discussed. Alval would never breach the subject on his own, he knew, so the task was left to Banus.
But how to go about it? Should he even bring it up at all? He doesn't know what talking about it will achieve, what he wants it to achieve. He said the words I really do like you, Uvani, but even he isn't sure what he meant by that. Like him as a friend? As a...more-than-friend? He's never had a more-than-friend before, so he hasn't a clue if he sees Uvani that way or not.
All he knows is that something must be done. Not because he absolutely has to have Uvani as his; he's happy for things to remain the same between them. But therein lies the problem – things aren't the same, not anymore. It all changed on that night, with that little I like you that seemed so inconsequential at the time. Uvani seems tenser and more conservative around him, backing away if they draw too close and never holding more than a seconds eye-contact. As though he's fearful of giving Banus any reason to say those words again.
Naturally, Banus has other plans.
Uvani is very, very reluctant to come roaming outside Leyawiin with him: he claims that he doesn't know anything about plants, that he has to practise his magic, that he's really too tired to go for a walk, but Banus will have none of it, and drags him away from the sanctuary regardless; ironic, it's perhaps the first time he actually wants to stay there. Officially, they're looking for Alchemy ingredients so Alor can sharpen his poison-making skills; unofficially, he's dragging the elder far enough into the wilderness that they can talk without interruptions or flimsy excuses on Uvani's part.
After a half-hour or so of walking, they're far enough from Leyawiin that Uvani can't avoid him, unless he flings a shock spell and makes a run for it – which, going by how tense the elder looks, may end up happening. So Banus takes it slow, makes light conversation, and picks Somnalius Frond as though he doesn't have a plentiful supply back home. But he can see Alval getting edgier, shifting and glancing about like he expects an ambush at any second, until at last, he speaks:
"Banus, we've been out here long enough. Let's get back to the sanctuary."
"We haven't even been gone an hour," he replies without so much as a pause, kneeling down to harvest one of the many mushrooms native to Blackwood, "And I don't have enough ingredients yet. Just a little longer."
"But-" when the other Elf glances around the environment, Banus already knows he's searching for an excuse; "It'll rain soon. We can come back another day."
"It rains all the time here. No use waiting for sunshine," he dismisses easily, straightening up with a handful of Green Stain Cup Cap, "You're not afraid of a little rain are you, Uvani?"
"I'm not afraid," Alval bristles immediately, fixing Alor with a glare as he approaches, but the younger has seen Uvani scowl enough times to know when there is no real heat behind it, "I just don't want to get wet, that's all."
"You can dry off when we get back," Banus says, dropping the mushrooms into the bag Uvani is carrying.
And then, something happens – he doesn't slip but it seems somehow accidental – and he finds himself holding Uvani's wrist with no real knowledge of how or why, as if a split-second time lapse occurred. The bag of ingredients is on the floor and slowly sinking into the rich mud, but he barely notices, and cares even less, because he's touching Uvani. It's skin on skin, or skin on ice, because Uvani has frozen up like a statue, utterly unmoving. And it is Banus who finds himself groping for an excuse, because even he doesn't know why he just did that.
"Your wrist," he manages at last, "Is it still bruised?"
Uvani mouths 'no', but no sound comes out. He's too busy staring at Banus, and Banus is staring right back even though he really should be checking the Dunmer's wrist if he wants to make this lie convincing.
"Good. I just wanted to make sure." And that should be the end of it, all he has to do is let go and step back, then continue as though that awkward moment never existed. But almost against his control, his hand does not pull away but slides up, thumb stroking against Uvani's palm and trailing over his fingers. He's tensed like a coiled spring, but he hasn't snapped yet, so Alor dares to linger there as long as he can – Sithis knows he may never get this opportunity again.
"Banus," Alval says at last, sounding strained but not angry, which the younger takes to be a good sign, "You didn't bring me out here just to collect ingredients, did you?"
"No," he confesses, even though he doesn't need to confess anything, because Uvani already knew what the answer would be, "I didn't."
He doesn't say anything else. And for a long while neither does Uvani, still stood there staring, still tensed like a hunter's bowstring. One of them has to break the silence, and in the end, it is the older Dunmer: "...I'm not sure what to say."
"It's alright, neither am I," Alor reassures him softly, if the words are any reassurance at all. But it's the truth: for all the planning involved with bringing Uvani here, he hasn't a clue what to do next, or even what he hopes to achieve. Perhaps, then, it is best to simply reiterate what started all this: "I really do like you, Uvani."
The mer swallows harshly, "I know. You've told me before."
There's no way to go about it but the obvious: "Do you like me too, then?"
"...I think so," Uvani admits, "But I don't really know how to..."
"Show it?"
"No. I mean, yes. You know what I mean," he pauses when he sees the younger's smile, and the faint shaking of his shoulders, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, it's just-" he can't repress the quiet laughter, because he can imagine how utterly ridiculous this would seem to anyone else, anyone normal, "It's sad, isn't it? Two grown men, and neither of us knows how friends are supposed to behave."
"I know how!" Alval insists with a hint of indignation, "They talk, and do things together, and...and hug, things like that."
"Hug?" It's a strange realisation that, despite knowing what the term means and entails, he hasn't actually... "I've never hugged anyone before."
"Well, neither have I," Uvani shrugs, but he's still so tense that his shoulders barely move at all, "I never saw the point."
Banus says, very quietly: "There's a point now."
"I suppose," the Dark Elf mutters, closing the gap between them, "You – I think you're supposed to – like this-"
The resulting embrace, if it can be called that, is decidedly stiff and awkward; Uvani is folded around him like paper, effectively trapping Alor's arms under his own so the Assassin cannot return the hold, merely stand there and feel rather silly. And they stay like that for a while, uncomfortable as it is, because neither of them really knows when they're supposed to let go.
"...I don't think we're doing it right," Banus says at last.
There's an irritated sigh on Uvani's behalf before he moves away: "What are we meant to do, then?"
"I think...come closer. If I put my arm around here..." he loops one arm around the mer's waist, undeterred by the tenseness of the muscle under his fingertips, "And you put your arms...like that, and I'll put my other arm...here," for lack of anywhere else, he drapes his other arm over Uvani's shoulder, nuzzling the junction between neck and shoulder in the process. He can see and feel the warm blush decorating Alval's cheeks, though he's quite certain his own face is tinged purple as well. After all, they're closer than they've ever been.
"Banus," Uvani practically mumbles, "I don't think it's supposed to be this..." he trails off.
"This...?"
He swallows, and Alor admittedly finds himself entranced by the action, watching Uvani's throat shift with pure fascination; "Intimate."
"Oh," he says, but makes no move to pull away – if anything, he moves a fraction of an inch closer, "We can try again, if you'd like."
"...I thought you needed to collect Alchemy ingredients?"
Banus gives him a telling smile, "I have plenty back home."
"Weren't you going for a walk?"
Banus glances over at the other assassin; "I did," he replies, and continues counting out the newest additions to his Alchemy supply. Fifteen harvested samples, in total. Not much...
The Brother seems to share the thought: "You've been gone three hours, and that's all you got?"
"I didn't find much," he shrugs casually, setting everything aside, "I stayed too close to Leyawiin. I'll have to venture further next time."
It's a perfectly valid excuse, and so the assassin suspects nothing, merely shrugging and goes back to his book. And so Banus doesn't divulge the truth – that he actually wandered quite far from Leyawiin, far enough that no-one might stumble across him. That there were plenty of mushrooms, but he lost half of what he had collected when he was distracted by other things.
And that he and Uvani have got hugging down to an art form.