I do love Ungolim :D

Unfortunately Enthralled – chapter eleven

"Dead?"

The tall, robe-swathed woman before him – Arquen, he now knows her as – inclines her head with the grace befitting an Altmer, and the caution befitting a high-ranking assassin; "I am...very sorry. I wish there were a gentler way to put it."

He shakes his head, because he doesn't do gentle – he does blunt and brusque and unflinchingly no-nonsense, but this is a shock even by his standards; "But – I – how?"

"...Murdered."

He wants to ask how, how is that even possible for the man to have been murdered, when he was a Speaker, of all things? But before the demand leaves his lips, it falls short and everything suddenly clicks into place: "By the traitor?"

"We don't know." 'We' refers to the Black Hand, who remain as silent and secretive as ever, but Uvani can see Arquen's opinion on all this in the trace of frown lines across her brow, in the tenseness of her fingers. Her eyes give away nothing but cool neutrality, but it is a mask – too smooth and featureless to pass itself off as the real thing.

"I just saw him yesterday," he mutters, a part of him still adamant that this isn't happening, that it's someone else who just looks like Speaker. "How was he-" a pause, the word too sour-tasting on his tongue, "-Killed?"

"A courier found him in his home, hanging from the ceiling beams," she told him quietly, and added perhaps more than she was supposed to: "It wasn't made to look like suicide. There were signs of a struggle – the killer would have cleaned up. Which makes it-"

"-A message," Uvani repeats, tone grim. And if he was strung up, not mutilated, then it cannot be mistaken identity, and he cannot deny the truth: his Speaker is dead. "It's the traitor. It has to be."

"But we cannot allow this to unravel the Black Hand. That's the second reason I'm here," Arquen continues, "The sanctuary needs a Speaker. You'll have to take his place."

"A Speaker? Me?" not that he doubts himself, he never has – he's always had to fend for himself, hesitance wasn't an option – but even so, he's barely been Silencer for a month... "I don't even know where to begin."

"What did he teach you?" she correctly translates his utterly lost expression, "He didn't explain any of the Speaker duties?"

"No. I asked, but he wanted me to learn everything later rather than sooner."

"Procrastination was always his biggest flaw," she sighs, though not irritably so, "Very well. Since it would have fallen to me anyway...I will show you what you must do."

"Then where do we start?"

"Well..." her lips curve into the barest of smiles, despite of the circumstances that brought them here, "It would be unfair to make you Speaker and then tell no-one else in the sanctuary about it."

"No," the Master of the sanctuary hisses through gritted teeth, "Absolutely not."

Uvani raises an eyebrow; "Last I checked, you had no choice in the matter."

"So you expect me to sit and watch you drive this sanctuary into the ground? Over my dead body."

His eyes narrow, a shock spell crackling dangerously around his fingers, "That can be arranged-"

"Gentlemen," Arquen's voice is soft, but enough to give both Dunmer and Breton pause, "The last Speaker personally chose Uvani as his successor. Surely you do not fault his decision, Brother?"

"Of course I fault it! Just look at him!" the Master gestures vehemently at Uvani, who sneers and folds his arms over his chest, "The most irate, antisocial and outright disliked person in this sanctuary! He even killed one of the others-"

"-A spineless idiot who didn't keep his mouth shut despite my warning-"

"-And broke one of the sacred tenets! Speaker Arquen, how can you hand such a miscreant power over us all?"

"Your previous leader is dead. That position must be filled as swiftly as possible."

"Then make me Speaker," the Breton answers fiercely, while Uvani just about does a double-take, "I've served this sanctuary for years-"

"Precisely," Arquen interrupts, "You are a servant, not a leader. Uvani possesses the confidence and determination to take charge of the Leyawiin sector; that is why he was chosen by the last Speaker. And that choice will be heeded, with or without your approval."

"He'd kill every Brother in here if he could!" argues the Master, refusing to relinquish his protest, "He doesn't care about anyone except his little fucktoy Alor-"

And in an instant, there are flames whirling around Uvani's hands, a blistering heat underneath his skin and screaming through his veins, and an aura of such fury that even Arquen's flinches back. When he speaks his throat seems burnt black, the words raspy and guttural: "I'll not have you talk that way about Banus-"

"Do you see this?" the Master spits venomously – though to his credit, unafraid, "Look how short his fuse is! Make him Speaker and this place will be reduced to cinders within the week!"

"Stop it," the inferno he's about to throw dies out at once in a shiver of supernatural cold. He glances sideways, and the caster is Arquen, with an expression as cold as her spell, "Uvani will be this sanctuary's Speaker. I will stand no more arguments."

Alval smirks victoriously, "Hah-"

"And Uvani, you will need to tame your temper if you are to make an effective leader," she continues, shutting him up at once, "Incineration is one method of discipline, but what will you do when you have no assassins left?"

"But I-" her glare silences his half-formed answer at once, "...Fine."

"So what now?" asks the Master, his hands still curled into fists, "Do you really expect me to take orders from the likes of him?"

"No," at which both men pause, confused, "I propose a swap. You will come with me back to Kvatch, where I expect not another word of protest. And Uvani, I will give you the Mistress of my sanctuary. In return, you will give her the respect she deserves, and allow her to work in peace. Do you accept?"

The Master bristles, "Now hold on, you can't just trade me in-"

"I accept," Alval talks over the man, "Will she be content living here?"

"She often complains Kvatch is too noisy. Leyawiin should suit her perfectly," Arquen calmly takes the arm of the Breton, who has been reduced to wordless splutters of indignation, "I shall send her as soon as I get back to my city."

Watching his despised sanctuary Master be dragged from the room, Uvani decides that he quite likes being in charge.

"So it's true, then."

He recognises the voice – and sure enough, it is Banus who steps through the door Arquen left ajar. And Uvani can immediately tell that something is not right.

"You've made it to Speaker," the words are directed at Alval, and yet Banus' gaze is firmly fixed on the floor, "I...congratulations, I suppose."

He frowns; "Don't say things you don't mean, Banus," he sees the younger Dunmer flinch slightly at the stern words, "What's the matter? And don't say 'nothing', you're not a liar. Out with it."

"I just..." Alor fidgets unhappily with one of the many belts and buckles on his uniform, "You won't forget about me, will you?"

"What are you talking about? The sanctuary Master is leaving, not me."

"But you're in charge now," he looks up at last, however apprehensively, "Speaker was hardly ever in Leyawiin. That means you won't be either."

"Don't be silly, of course I'll be in Leyawiin. I live here, don't I?" he approaches Banus, though the other stays rooted to his one spot, "Is that what you're upset about? You think we'll never see each other again?"

"I don't want to think that, but-"

"You don't have to think that, because it isn't going to happen," Uvani corrects him sharply, "I might not have as much free time as before, but I don't intend to leave you in the dust or whatever else it is you've dreamed up. Understand?"

"But Speaker-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts, "Everyone else has to call me 'Speaker'. Not you."

The sentiment behind it seems to cheer Alor up, and he sees a glimpse of a smile on the younger's lips; "Just...promise you won't leave me here alone, okay? Promise you'll visit sometime."

"Fine, fine, yes, I promise," he waves a hand carelessly, though stops at Banus' deadly serious expression, "I said I promise. You're the only reason I'd want to come back to this sanctuary anyway."

He says the words casually, because to him, it's just that – a nonchalant admittance, something that simply is. Banus' reaction is less casual, more...delighted, with an inhalation of enthrallment and joyous hands that envelop Alval like silk sheets.

He quite likes being in charge. He quite likes being kissed by Banus too, but he'll never say that out loud.

His first meeting with the Listener comes as a bit of a shock, to say the least. Simply put, he hadn't expected him to be so...well...

Short.

"That had better not be my height you're gawking at," Ungolim tells him, and all the while, Uvani can't help but notice how far the Elf has to crane his neck to make eye contact, "Honestly, do all the new Speakers have to react in exactly the same way? It was funny at first, but now it's just getting tiresome."

"I..." Uvani shakes his head, still in disbelief, "...Wasn't expecting a Bosmer."

"Mm. Because we're sweet and happy forest folk that spend all day picking flowers, am I right?" guesses Ungolim with a sigh, "At least you're honest enough to admit you think in stereotypes. Anyway, come inside, we're keeping everyone waiting."

Still rather lost for words, Uvani nevertheless follows Ungolim inside his tiny Bravil shack. He expects it to be bigger inside, leading to some grand and gothic underground lair with black drapery and a sacrificial altar or two lying about. Instead he finds a cramped and decidedly ordinary-looking room, plus a little dining table with three other robe-bedecked Speakers sat around it, looking ridiculously out of place.

Somehow, he can't help but think the whole scenario is very deliberate on the Bosmers part.

"Take a seat," Ungolim gestures at the chair sandwiched between Arquen and a Khajiit. He moves to join, but then pauses, "Do you know, I fancy something to eat. Won't be a moment!"

As the Wood Elf trots off, Uvani seats himself; his first move is to lean over and mutter to Arquen, "Are all Black Hand meetings like this?"

"He doesn't see the need for spending money on theatrics," she whispers back, "It's not such a bad move, since the money instead goes towards the Brotherhood, improving the sanctuaries and such," she pauses, "The Listener may come across as a bit...well...un-Listener-like, but he's far more sensible than he lets on."

"And he has marvellously good hearing," Ungolim declares loudly as he strolls back into the room with a jar under under arm, which he sets in the middle of the table, "Would anyone like a cookie?"

Three of the Speakers, Uvani included, decline in a collective murmur. The Khajiit, however, takes on and munches thoughtfully.

"See, at least one of you appreciates my hospitality. Now where were we? Oh yes," he takes the remaining chair, which Alval notes is higher than all the others, "Our very important Black Hand meeting, was it not? Since we have a new addition, you can all state your name and location."

"Speaker Ja'Ghasta, Bruma sanctuary."

"Speaker Marcia, Cheydinhal sanctuary."

"Speaker Arquen, Kvatch sanctuary."

A tap from the Altmer beside him tells him it's his turn: "Speaker Uvani, Leyawiin sanctuary."

"Excellent," Ungolim declares half way through eating a biscuit. He continues speaking regardless, "Now...why are we here again?"

Arquen answers: "Concerning Speaker Uvani's successor, honoured Listener."

"Ah, I remember now. Do you have anyone in mind, Alval?"

He nods, "I want Banus Alor as my Silencer."

"What a surprise," remarks the Khajiit next to him, the accent thick and raspy, "Did anyone not see that coming, really?"

Alval frowns; "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Now now, we all know of your fondness for the boy. It's all the last Leyawiin Speaker went on about while he was here. Loved to gossip, that man," Ungolim states casually, reaching for another cookie, "So, have you slept with him yet?"

He freezes up at once, stunned that the mer would even ask such a thing. When he says nothing, Arquen nudges him gently: "Answer the Listener's question, Uvani."

"But-" when he realises he can't refuse his superior, he drops his gaze to the wooden table, not particularly wanting to meet anyone's eyes right now, "...No, Listener. I haven't."

"Oh?" Ungolim replies so nonchalantly he could be discussing the weather outside, "You should get a move on, then. Or someone might snatch him away – like Marcia's Silencer."

"Lucien?" the Cheydinhal Speaker laughs, "He's more of a womaniser, I'm afraid. Not terribly interested in other men," she glances over at Uvani, "But he must be someone special, this Banus, to win your notoriously hard-earned affections."

"The best choice for a companion," Ja'Ghasta points out, "But is he the best choice for a Silencer? He'll ascend to the Black Hand one day, after all...can we trust unfair bias?"

"Alval is certainly biased, but that doesn't mean it isn't fair," says Ungolim before Uvani can even begin to argue, "Banus is a very competent assassin, perhaps even the best in the Leyawiin sanctuary. And his comradeship with Alval may prove very beneficial."

The Dunmer gets as far as opening his mouth: "I-"

"How do you mean?" Marcia talks right over him, "His adoration of the boy may make him blind to his flaws and mistakes."

"I don't-"

"Or it could work the other way around – Banus strives harder to improve himself and perfect his contracts to win Alval's approval," Ungolim tells her, "Plus, his respect for his superior means he is more than happy to serve under him – whereas numerous past Silencers have sought to usurp their Speakers."

"Can I-"

Ja'Ghasta taps his claws against the table; "Isn't friendship regarded as pointless among assassins?"

"Get a-"

"Oh, that's an old-fashioned attitude. Especially when there are advantages to be reaped," answers the Listener, "We need a new slogan. Something like: The Dark Brotherhood likes friendship – because it can be exploited for personal gain! Exclamation marks are a must."

"Word in-"

"I don't know. Too many exclamation marks make a slogan look tacky."

"-Edgeways!"

"Hm?" Ungolim raises an eyebrow, "Did you want to say something, Alval?"

"I've been trying to say something for the past ten minutes," Uvani points out, exasperated, "And I've already decided on Alor being my Silencer. I just need some silly test to give him, since it's a part of the promotion."

"It certainly is," the Bosmer leans back in his chair, "So, does anyone have any ideas for a test?" there is no reply, "Come now, you must have some thoughts between the four of you. A creative solution to the problem is probably how you got into the Brotherhood in the first place."

"Does he have any family members?" Arquen is the first to suggest, "We could send him after those. Fulfils the test quota and cuts off any ties outside the Brotherhood."

Even to him, the words are callous, although perhaps because it is Banus being discussed. He reminds himself of the ways of the Black Hand – cold, unfeeling, unmerciful. They operate as a business, and Banus is a pawn, not a person. But even though he is now part of that business, he can't bring himself to join the discussion, to talk of exploiting and manipulating the boy. If anything, it makes him all the more urgent to make Alor his Silencer, so he at least becomes less expendable.

"Actually, I already did a background check," Ungolim responds to Arquen, "He has no family that could be traced. Meaning he's either already cut off all contact with them or...possibly killed them. Either way, relatives aren't an option."

"What about the other sanctuary assassins? Does he get on with them?"

"Not enough to hesitate in killing any one of them. No..." the Listener taps his chin thoughtfully, "What are we trying to test, exactly? I mean, with you, Alval-" he addresses Uvani, "We were most concerned about your rebellious streak, so your trial was to put the Brotherhood before your own wishes. So in terms of his use as an assassin, what is Banus' key flaw?"

All the other Speakers look at him expectantly. Shifting a little, Uvani begins cautiously: "Well...his methods, I suppose."

"Oh? Do elaborate."

"Alor fulfils all his contracts in the same way – with smothering, or drain spells, things that won't leave any marks. Even if he does end up spilling blood, he'll clean up afterwards," he pauses in reluctance, because he doesn't like this any more than Banus is going to, "That's a fine tactic, but he views it as compulsory. He needs to prove he can break that habit if he has to. Versatility is a key trait of a good assassin."

"Perfect!" Ungolim claps his hands together, delighted, "So all we need is someone for him to kill. And I have just the person in mind..."