I've been saving this chapter for a while, since I wanted to update GBR first.
Unfortunately Enthralled – chapter eighteen
Time passes uneventfully, the weeks bleeding into months until another year has gone by without either of them really noticing it. It still rains in Leyawiin, they still hunt mushrooms and kiss in the forest, though they never take it any further than that. Uvani still hates Lucien, hates every glance he gives Banus even if he knows his Silencer would never stray. Ungolim is still annoying and nosy. Nothing changes.
Until the day Kvatch burns.
He takes a certain amount of pride in the fact that Arquen turns up at his door rather than the Listener's. He's hardly the most gracious person in the world, but after all she's done for him, it's only fair to re-house her handful of assassins in his sanctuary. He has the room anyway – most of the imbeciles who once occupied the Leyawiin sanctuary are gone now, killed by their own stupidity or insubordination. He lets Banus sort the new arrivals out while he sits Arquen down, and asks what happened.
"I'm not sure," she looks tired, so very tired, "I was in my sanctuary when I heard some noise from above ground and before I knew it, the place was on fire. I evacuated everyone from as many different exits as possible so we wouldn't draw any guard attention, but I needn't have bothered. When I got outside, the whole city was ablaze."
"The rumours are only just coming to Leyawiin. Something about a gate to Oblivion. Is that even possible?"
"Apparently so. There were daedra everywhere." She gives a heavy sigh, "Because I'd split everyone up it was impossible to re-group; eventually I had no choice but to take the few I had and get out. The sanctuary was completely destroyed along with most of the city."
"Is that everyone you have left?" Uvani asks, referring to the four or five slightly charred assassins Arquen showed up with.
"There were a few out of Kvatch at the time, but most of them are..." she trails off, looking away, "I've had to make Mathieu my new Silencer, in lieu of the old one being eaten by a daedroth. It's not ideal, but it'll have to do."
"Is he incompetent? I have a few half-decent Executioners if you need one-"
"Oh no, he's a good assassin, never failed a contract yet," the Altmer explains, "It's just... well, he was smitten on another assassin called Maria a while back when she suddenly disappeared. We never found a body, but I'm sure it was the traitors work. Matheiu's been a little...unbalanced ever since," her tone softens, "Nothing new in the Brotherhood, I suppose. He's staying in Anvil until I can find a new sanctuary."
"Where will you go?"
"Anvil and Skingrad are both flooded with refugees, so no chance there. I'm going to scout up in Chorrol as soon as everything's settled," she glances at Alval, "Thank you for your help, in that regard. I appreciate it."
He isn't used to being thanked, so he's not entirely sure how to respond. "It's fine," he mutters at last, shifting uncomfortably.
It's ironic, really. He's never displayed any sort of tenderness, compassion or camaraderie until after he joined a murderous assassin cult.
Uvani accompanies Arquen to Bravil as all the Black Hand gather to discuss Kvatch. The Listener suggests, cheerfully insensitive as ever, that the sanctuary burning down is a good thing, since it may have killed off the traitor. Short-tempered as he is, Uvani takes more offence to this than Arquen herself, and resorts to his usual method of getting through meetings by dreaming up new ways to maim the infuriating little man.
On the journey back to his sanctuary, for once not walking with Arquen as she instead heads north to Chorrol, he thinks about what happened to Kvatch. These Oblivion gates are springing up everywhere now; he even passes a few on his way back, but he kills the daedra it spews out with a well-placed shock spell. There's a few just outside Leyawiin too, outside every town according to the other Speakers. There's been no attack to parallel Kvatch, but they loom threateningly all the same.
Apparently they can be sealed, since someone plugged the first one. Who was it again...? He can't remember the name, only Hero of Kvatch. Uvani snorts at the unoriginal title, at the falsity of it all. They show up after the city is destroyed, after everyone is killed and close one gate, after which twenty more open up. Practically the definition of heroism there.
The land gradually turns more wet and woody, and he sees Leyawiin in the distance, along with a few gates, shimmering eyes of fire. He can make out the smouldering ruin of Kvatch too, and for a moment the image of Leyawiin ending up the same way crosses his mind. Not that Leyawiin could burn – it rains so damn much that there's never been a single recorded house fire – but then again, those gates can stay open even in the heaviest monsoon. He's surprised to find the thought unsettling him; he isn't overly attached to his sanctuary or its inhabitants, but Leyawiin itself feels like home. More so than his birthplace in Morrowind ever did.
Strange how the thought has only just occurred to him. Then again, he didn't deliberately move to Leyawiin, he just ended up there because of the Dark Brotherhood and stuck around because there was nowhere else to go. It's always been just a temporary residence... perhaps it is time to amend that.
"You bought a house?"
Uvani shoots his Silencer a deadpan look, "No, I took you here for the sightseeing. Of course I bought it, look," he holds up the keys, which jingle merrily.
"But wasn't it expensive?"
"Well... yes," he admits. Speakers have a high payroll, but the purchase burnt a sizeable hole in his savings regardless, "It's fully furnished, though. Ready to move right in."
"Oh... you're leaving the sanctuary, then?" Banus looks crestfallen, "I'll see even less of you now."
He rolls his eyes, exasperated, "You're moving in with me, Banus."
The boy blinks owlishly, "I am?"
"You are. I won't tolerate my protégé living with those simpletons I have to call family," he's careful to avoid using the words 'assassin' or 'sanctuary' in public, "This way you get some privacy... Banus, you do want to live with me, right?"
"Of course I do," is the hasty reply, "It's just a bit sudden, that's all."
Uvani tuts, "Should have done it a long time ago. Anyway, are we going inside or not?"
They do, in fact, go inside. He shows Banus the living room, the dining room, the kitchen – all neat and impersonal, just the way he likes it. Anyone who wandered in wouldn't be able to tell a thing about the owner, other than deducing a reasonable income. Upstairs is a little more homely, the shelves lined with books and alchemy equipment for Banus to practise in his spare time. And then through to the...
"Oh," Banus comments, "There's only one bedroom."
Uvani shuffles on the spot. He knows that, of course. He was well aware of it when he bought the house. "Well I'm going to be away travelling most of the time, so you'll have the bed to yourself."
"And when you are here?" the other asks quietly.
He shuffles some more, "One of us can sleep downstairs. Or we could convert one of the other rooms."
Banus remains patient, coaxing, "We couldn't just... share the bed...?"
He swallows, and his voice comes out hoarser than expected, "Yes... we could."
So when nightfall comes, they do just that.
Uvani, prude that he is, undresses while trying to keep on as many clothes as possible. Whereas Banus, prude that he isn't, strips down to underwear and a nightshirt, slips right into bed and waits for him expectantly. With considerably less grace and ease, Uvani slides in next to him and lies on his back as rigidly as a soldier, staring straight ahead at the ceiling. His counterpart has other ideas, enveloping him even more than the blankets, but he doesn't – he can't – return the favour.
"Just an embrace," Banus murmurs soothingly when Alval remains as tense as ever, "Like in Blackwood, remember?"
Reluctantly he rolls onto his side, wraps his arms around the other mer and tries, really tries, to relax. But it's like their first attempt at hugging: awkward, uncomfortable, unsure. He tries to pull away, intending to give up on the whole ordeal there and then, but Alor shuffles closer, cranes his neck and seals their lips together. It's not unpleasant – Banus' kisses are soft and undemanding, his fingers slowly winding through Uvani's hair, and it should calm him down but... but...
But kissing normally is one thing, kissing while lying half-dressed in a bed is quite another; it tends to lead to further intimacy, a road Uvani isn't entirely sure he wants to go down. It's been so long since he indulged in anything remotely carnal that the thought seems daunting, even alien – what's more, he's so out of practise that he's likely to make a fool of himself.
It angers him, because he should want what is being so willingly offered. Not only is Banus very attractive – doubly so compared to his aged and life-battered Speaker – but he's also, Uvani is pretty sure, unspoilt. There are men who would kill for such an opportunity, and yet here and now when it's all being handed to him on a silver platter, his damn prudishness holds him back. A part of him wants to grit his teeth, seize Banus and claim him before someone else – like Lucien – lures him away. But another part of him insists that the boy deserves better, deserves desire rather than obligation...
"You're so tense..." Banus murmurs in his ear. The room itself is silent, but amidst his crowded and chaotic thoughts, Alval barely hears him, "You'll never get any sleep like this, you know."
… But it's not as though the desire isn't there. Banus' skin is so warm and smooth, every dip and curve of his slender frame seemingly moulded to fit Uvani's hand perfectly. He's exquisite and pure and his and he wants him so badly it hurts, but he also wants him to stay away with an instinct that overrides the lust. The same instinct that's kept him celibate all these years.
"Uvani?" his Silencer continues softly when he gets no answers, "If there's anything I can do to help-"
"Banus," he chokes out at last, "I can't."
Banus pulls back a little, "Can't what?"
At first he thinks he's being teased, and is entirely ready to snap a bitter response. But then he glimpses the confused look, realises the boy genuinely doesn't know what he's talking about.
He resists the urge to sigh. It's not that Alor is unintelligent, but he can be slow on the uptake sometimes.
"I can't... go any further than this," he struggles to explain, "If we're going to sleep together – I mean, with each other – I mean, next to each other-" he gets it right at last, "-We can't do anything. Anything intimate, that is."
"Not even touching?" Banus withdraws his hands completely, albeit hesitantly, "But I like touching you..." he says sadly.
He can't bear to hear that tone, so he swiftly takes hold of the other elf again, lacing their fingers together, "We can still touch, I'm just saying it has to stay platonic. Because-" Because you need to open up, to lay yourself bare, to trust, and I've never done that before; I'm not even sure if I'm capable of it. Because intimacy means vulnerability, and I can't let you see me as weak. He wishes he had the eloquence to describe it, but he's never been very good with words, so he settles with: "-Because I'm not ready. Maybe one day, but not here and now."
"Oh... well, I don't mind that," Banus shifts closer to him again, now perfectly content, "So long as I can touch you, that's good enough for me."
Uvani pauses. He hadn't expected it to be so – well – easy. It's fairly typical of Banus to simply go with the flow, accept things for what they are without protest, but still... the lack of persistence is somewhat unflattering. "You're sure?" he questions, half-wanting the boy to kick up more of a fuss just so he feels desired, so to speak.
"I don't really think about sex that much, to be honest," Alor says with a frankness that Uvani both winces at – he's frigid, he'll admit – and envies, because he's meant to be the brusque one, but he can't mention it so casually. "It's why I haven't done anything yet. That and no-one was interested, I guess." Still something Alval can't get over. It's definitely not down to looks, but then Banus has that eerily diluted quality to him; not emotionless per se, but incapable of anything as intense as lust. It doesn't bother Alval, but he knows he's in the minority there.
He supposes he shouldn't be surprised when his request for celibacy – which would have any normal person arguing or even re-thinking their choice in relationship – is met only with a shrug. "You're not interested in that stuff at all, then?"
"Mm, not quite... I've just never felt the need for it that everyone else seems to have. Is that strange?"
"Yes," Uvani tells him, "But in the good way."
Pleased, his protégé cuddles up closer to him. He's the taller of the two, but by curling up he can rest his head on Alval's shoulder, "I'd be happy to if you asked, of course," he speaks conversationally, "But if you'd rather wait, I'll do that too. Even if we go the rest of our lives just doing this, I'll still be happy."
His words are enough to soothe away any paranoid or self-conscious thoughts – not a heated declaration, but a simple remark, a statement of fact. In its own way, it's more romantic than the typical all-consuming passion setup could ever be.