Chapter 16:
It was unusual to be called to a private meeting with Hannibal Traven, and even more unusual if you were a relatively low-ranking guild member like Gilthan Lorenlee. The high elf sat in the Arch-mage's chambers and watched as the Breton seated across from him neatly smoothed out his blue robes. He had a wide face and wispy, white hair that was brushed back from his face, but it never stayed that way. It would soon look its usual tousled self, and Gilthan hoped that he would be gone by then—not that he didn't like the mage, but considering the situation with Portia, he wasn't keen to be pulled into Traven's meddling, for the Arch-mage did have a reputation for that.
"You have been called here to discuss the chaos sphere that rests in Portia Augustine's hands," Traven stated, not bothering to beat around the bush. "It has been noted that you have some sort of relationship with the woman. May I ask what the nature of that relationship is?"
"We are friends," Gilthan allowed, knowing that lying was probably pointless. Traven had sources, and the man wasn't afraid to use his power to pull strings. It was best to take this interview seriously and at the man's pace, for unlike Gilthan, the Breton was not known for his sense of humor.
"She has sought you out on several occasions," Traven dispassionately noted. "Would you say that she trusts you?"
"That's what being friends is about," Gilthan smiled, although he was hardly relaxed.
"So then you can remain close to her," Traven mused, fingers folded under his chin. "I have a task for you, Gilthan, and when you are finished, you'll deserve a promotion." As if the high elf was as ambitious as his superior! Gilthan had allowed many possibilities for advancement to pass him because of his lack of interest in rank. As long as he could merrily go about his own business and play a few pranks in the process, he wasn't concerned with power, but it might not be wise to tell Traven that.
"I see her from time to time," he explained. "Is there a reason that you'd like me to remain close to her? As a friend, breaking her trust is not something that I take lightly."
"It's not breaking trust when it's in her own interest," Traven soothed. "And your loyalty is first and foremost to the guild. You wouldn't want to see Miss Augustine injured, I assume."
"Well, I'd be a rather horrible friend if I thought that," Gilthan chuckled. "No, I like her happy and healthy, and I suppose that you're worried about the chaos sphere."
"It is a troubling matter," Traven said while closing his eyes in thought. "And one that the council is still trying to resolve without bringing more people into the matter. Your research has been most helpful, and tell me, have you seen any signs of negative affects on your friend?" Gilthan shrugged in the lighthearted manner that he was known for.
"She seems perfectly normal. I asked her to bring any concerns to me, and she hasn't, so I trust her judgement." Traven leveled a stare at him that would have made a lesser man cower. The Arch-mage could be damn scary when he put his mind to it.
"You haven't accidently let anything about the artifact slip, I trust," the man lowly stated. "That would be reprehensible. She is to know absolutely nothing about what she has, and I must admit that your famously flippant attitude worries me."
"I've been careful," Gilthan dismissed.
"Good. Keep a close on her since the two of you are...friendly. I want to know the moment that anything seems off, for if she starts to unlock the sphere's power, we'll take it from her. I don't care if we are ready for it or not. I won't risk her causing a disaster." The mage rang a bell that sat on his desk, and Gilthan immediately heard the door behind him open. "I'll wait for word from you," the mage continued as Gilthan stood. "And Gilthan?"
"Something else?" the elf asked with a half-smile that made Traven frown.
"In the name of the Nine, take this seriously for once." Gilthan's response was a forced chuckle to further crease the mage's face, and with that, he left for his own quarters. So Traven was worried that he wasn't taking this problem seriously. Well, that was incorrect, for Gilthan was very serious, just not exactly in the manner that the mage expected. He had many heavy topics weighing on his mind at the time, and had it not been for his jovial nature, he was fairly certain that he'd have gone insane by now.
So much to deal with. Great, and now I'm sounding like my father.
Gilthan was nearing his chambers as he thought back to the ball that he had attended with Portia. She had been lovely in her gown—far more beautiful than he had previously noticed, and being the flirt that he sometimes was, he had definitely made a few passes at her, but she knew that he was jesting. That was how he was, and he thought it part of being the perfect companion for her that night. The dancing had been splendid, as he recalled, but that did not erase his concerns, for he had seen Cassius, and the man looked damn familiar.
Gilthan rested a hand against the door to his room and momentarily paused, sensing a person within. Hopefully no one had noticed the book that he'd stolen from the library's restricted section, for that would incriminate him in ways that he was not sure he could joke his way out of, and it was that book that was the source of his current concerns. Cassius had struck him oddly the other night, and it didn't help that the man had glared daggers at him for taking Portia away. The woman was perceptive and had probably noticed the way that Cassius almost possessively gripped her during the dance, his eyes alight with startling energy. Gilthan had not liked the man's attentions one bit, and with the nagging feeling at the back of his mind, he had tried to keep Portia way from him. She should have been doing so on her own, but for some reason that was beyond him, she had almost seemed captivated by the diplomat, even leaning in toward him when they danced. When their eyes locked, they might as well have been in a private room, and Gilthan admitted that he had felt a pang of jealousy at the sight.
Cassius.
Gilthan had seen a similar looking man before, and the illustration was in his book, but Cassius couldn't be Mehrunes Dagon, for the prince was notoriously blunt and assertive, which Cassius was not. Okay, maybe blunt, but Mehrunes parading as a diplomat from Morrowind? It seemed incredibly unlikely, and even more so when he considered that Portia had safely left the ball that night. And, he reminded himself, there are darker Imperials that might be half-breeds from Morrowind. Still, the man presented a possibility that made Gilthan nervous, and that was why he'd told Portia to stay away from that diplomat. Perhaps he should have mentioned the reason for his fears, and normally he would have done so in the lightest way possible, but he didn't want Portia to panic. She was nervous as it was without dealing with paranoia, so he had cautioned her, and she trusted his word enough to take the advice, or so he hoped.
"Bubble, spittle, spat," he cursed as he stepped into his room. I need to get some air, annoy my boss, maybe grab some food, and then I will work on this mystery.
"Hello, Gilthan," Portia greeted. Then again, maybe he'd start working right away.
"Portia!" and he embraced her in a friendly hug. "This is an unexpected joy." She was pretty as ever in her tunic and pants, hair pulled back into a ponytail, and left hand gently resting on the hilt of the sword at her waist. "Someone had a rough night," he concluded on closer inspection, noticing the bags under her eyes and her worn smile.
"I didn't sleep well," and taking the hint, Gilthan closed the door.
"It's rather risky for you to visit me here," he replied. "People will think that I'm calling in women, and in broad daylight too. Just a moment, before my reputation grows." He muttered a few words, and the air shimmered for the merest of moments before he returned his attention to his guest. She was sitting on the windowsill, hands resting in her lap as she sighed and rubbed a hand across her eyes. "I'm sorry to say this, but you're not here for lunch, are you? What's wrong?" He joined her at the windowsill, a golden hand reaching out to hold hers. "This is the perfect picture," he smiled. "No one watching will think that we're up to anything."
"We make quite the image of a loving couple, don't we?" Portia managed to smile, and Gilthan gave her hands a squeeze while he chuckled.
"I've had years of practice." Then his smile relaxed into a steady expression as her worried eyes sought his, and he lowered his voice. "What's happened? You've been staying away from Cassius, I hope."
"I wish that he was the only problem," Portia sighed. "I had the strangest vision last night. Remember how I told you that Mehrunes wasn't in Oblivion?" Gilthan nodded. "Well, I still feel a connection to him when I wear the sphere. For instance, before the ball, I sensed him being impatient for some reason, but once I took off the earring, it was gone. Then I slept with the sphere on last night, and I can't explain what happened, but I was taken to him."
"Like when he was in Oblivion?" Gilthan asked.
"Exactly, only we weren't in Oblivion." Portia stared out the window, her profile giving Gilthan a clear view of the orb dangling beside her neck. The scene would have been lovely if not for that emblem of dread.
"Let me get us some wine before we continue," the elf offered, seeing Portia's inner turmoil.
"You and wine," she weakly smiled. "Alright. One glass." With a few words, the bottle was before them, and Gilthan carefully poured her a glass of red that was quickly downed. His own glass was nearly forgotten as she continued with her story. "I was dreaming of being trapped in a dark place with Mehrunes, and when I tried to fight it, I ended up in another bedroom. I don't know exactly where it was, but I swear that it's in the capitol. I could see the palace from the window."
"Do you remember which side of the palace you saw?" Gilthan interjected. "I don't mean to interrupt, but if you had a clear view, we might be able to find the house."
"I know," Portia agreed. "But I was a bit distracted by the other person in the room with me."
"Mehrunes Dagon is here then," and for the first time, Portia noted a deep and troubling expression on Gilthan's face. It was far too grave to belong on him.
"He was different than in Oblivion," Portia stated. "He looked more human, but his skin was the same, and he was getting ready for bed. I don't know what to make of that...but he knew that I was there—well, not me, but he recognized my presence, like in Oblivion."
"Let's hope that he never figures out that you and the thief are the same person," Gilthan warned. "Don't give him any reason to recognize you."
"He couldn't know," Portia mused. "Or he wouldn't be so tolerant of me, I'm sure. What bothers me most was what happened when I left him. I pulled out of the vision to avoid him, and I woke up in my bedroom, but I could still feel him. I was almost forcefully pulled back into sleep, and I know that it was his doing. He was calling me, and it almost worked. I could hear his voice in my head, demanding that I return and explain myself. He threatened to force me to answer him, and...and, Gilthan, if I hadn't stood up and run laps around my room to stay awake, I'm sure that he'd have won. Even now, I keep feeling his presence coming and going, as if he's walking beside me, and then it's gone. He really wants to know what I am now that I've found him outside of Oblivion..."
The two remained silent while Gilthan poured her another glass of wine and watched as she eased into forced calmness.
"I keep wondering what will happen if I pass him on the street. Will he recognize me because of the pull between us?"
"I don't know, Portia," Gilthan replied. "I wish that I had an answer for you, but this has never happened before. We knew that the sphere would slowly affect you, but I never foresaw this. When you told me that you could physically touch Mehrunes in Oblivion, I was surprised enough as it was, but this...I have no answer for this, except that the magic in the artifacts is slowly binding you, and now that he's here, there's less distance separating the pull."
"That's what I'm worried about," Portia said with another sip of wine.
"However, there is some good news," Gilthan offered. "Since you are as aware of this pull as he is, you should be able to recognize him as well. If he can sense you in passing on the street, the knowledge should be mutual. You've felt nothing like that yet, so perhaps he hasn't either." It made sense, but Portia still had more questions than answers.
"I'm thinking that I just won't wear the sphere," she offered. "Then the tie would be severed, but I suppose that doing that would cause its own complications."
"You wouldn't have any idea where he is or what he's doing," Gilthan said, finishing her train of thought.
"Exactly. If he's here to find me, I can't avoid him forever by not wearing it. And even if he's not here for that, I could spy on him. We can't just let him do whatever he wants."
"Portia," Gilthan pointedly began. "You know that he's here for the sphere. It's the key to amplifying his power."
"I know," Portia said. "But I like to consider all my possibilities. And I know that I should wear the sphere so that I at least have a warning of his presence, but if he sees me wearing it, I'm done for. I'm sure that he won't hesitate to kill me if he sees the opportunity." Yet she wasn't entirely sure about that last comment, for Mehrunes hadn't overly exerted himself in trying to kill the 'being' in Oblivion. He'd engaged her in her spirit state, but he hadn't been hellbent on destroying her. She had read about his sick sense of competition and desire for challenging fights, but did that outweigh his anger at her? Only he could answer that, but somehow she had a feeling that he wouldn't outright murder her, and she blamed hours of reading and thinking about him for that.
"Here," Gilthan offered, and he raised a hand to cup it around the sphere, the orange light glowing from between his fingers. "Allow me to be of service." He smiled, and with a sharp flash, he suddenly retracted his hand. "It's invisible now. No one will know that you're wearing the sphere unless they touch it." Portia lifted a hand and felt the orb, but standing to check herself in a mirror beside Gilthan's bed, she saw nothing. She admired how easily he had cast the spell, for there wasn't even a hint of the object's outline. "That went better than expected," he chuckled. "Once I made someone's torso invisible when I tried to target their clothing."
"Why were you trying to make a woman's clothing disappear?" Portia questioned.
"I never said that it was a she," Gilthan scoffed.
"I'm sure that it was." The elf laughed in his carefree manner as he walked over to Portia and turned her in a quick spin.
"Quite right, and now it is time that you went before Traven comes down here for a one-on-one conversation. The man wants me to spy on you, and I daresay that he's seriously thinking of confiscating your sphere." Portia's face tensed, her eyes blazing.
"Just what I need," she sarcastically commented. "First a daedra, now a nosy mage."
"If you can handle the former, I'm sure that the latter won't be a problem, but be careful. And keep clear of suspicious people."
"Like Cassius, I know," Portia said, trying to joke about Gilthan's distrust of the man. He couldn't know that she had been assigned to get closer to the stranger, and she didn't plan on telling him. Then again, the elf might be very instrumental in helping her since he was so concerned. "Gilthan, can you find out more about Horace Pantrov? You seem to know him, and you're right: I think that he and his friend are dangerous. I want to know what they're up to."
"I'll see what I can do." Gilthan opened the door and offered her his arm. Looped together, they made their way toward the university exit, Gilthan whispering reassurances in Portia's ear as she told him that she would be fine and that he didn't need to act like her mother. Meanwhile, above them, a Breton mage stood at his window and watched the two transverse the grounds of his guild.
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Three days passed, and Tamil was still waiting for word from Morrowind. She had been certain that the information she sought would not be terribly difficult to find, but there had been no word from her homeland contacts, and the Blades were known for efficiency no matter where they were stationed.
"Still waiting?" Portia asked from where she reclined on a couch. Tamil crumpled the letter in her hands and tossed it into the fireplace with utter contempt.
"I hate waiting," she complained. "And Arelius won't give me more active assignments until he's satisfied that I'm fully healed." Portia too hated the waiting game, for it reminded her of walking the streets everyday, expecting Mehrunes to appear at any moment. It was nerve wracking in her case, although for Tamil it was simply annoying, and when Tamil was annoyed, her tongue grew sharper. The Imperial had come to realize that her dark elf comrade liked action and was patient only when it came to stalking shadows and setting up traps.
"If Cassius is a known diplomat in the province, shouldn't he be easy to investigate?" Portia mused aloud.
"He should be," Tamil agreed. The dark elf sat in a chair with her feet propped up on the table before her. Arelius had given her these rooms while she recovered, and while the elf was impeccably obedient to her superior, she was quite an uncouth ruffian when he was nowhere in sight. Portia rather liked the woman's rough edges and sharp tongue, but at the same time, the elf was intelligent, loyal, and sympathetic to Portia's situation. She had already claimed that she would ensure that the Dawn stayed away from both of them, and for that, Portia admired the woman's resolve. Even when the elf's wound stung, she brushed it off with ease, claiming that she only needed a job to focus on.
"This entire situation is suspicious," Portia stated.
"Smells like false identity, if you ask me," Tamil said. "Cassius and Horace have a lot of explaining to do. If we find dirt on them, we can bring them in for questioning, and I'd love it if they're connected to the Dawn. I'm going to find whoever poisoned me, and when I do, it won't be pretty. How's your operation going?" Tamil was doing Morrowind background on Cassius while Portia handled getting closer to the two.
"There's a dinner party tonight," Portia said. "I managed to get invited through one of my student's parents, and our two favorite diplomats will be there. As soon as Arelius gets here, I need to get ready." The two were waiting for a meeting with the man, and afterwards, it was time to face a party where she'd hopefully catch Cassius's eye, which she was certain wouldn't be terribly difficult, but one could never tell. People were fickle, and there was still the matter of finding out whether or not Cassius and Horace were actually a threat and connected to the Dawn. That was the concern of the Blades, for the Dawn members that had infiltrated the city were being remarkably quiet, and it didn't sit well with anyone. It seemed as if they'd simply disappeared, although Tamil was all for a trip to the sewers. Portia suspected that Arelius objected to her request because of the high risk of losing Tamil in the process, and he couldn't spare anyone at the moment.
"You already have an outfit and weapon selected?" Tamil conversationally inquired.
"You love weapons," Portia noted with a smile.
"That I do. I have a lovely dagger that you could borrow if you'd like."
"I've got my own, thanks," Portia replied. "Do you wish that you were the one going?"
"It'd be better than sitting around here, but no; that Horace guy is a little touchy-feely from what I've heard, and then I'd be in trouble for breaking his hands." The two shared a laugh over the comment as the door opened and Arelius entered with a pleased expression.
"I'm glad to see that you two are getting along," he smiled. It almost felt like old times, when Portia was still the leading Blade, and the organization was bonded with friendship as well as service. It lightened his heart and duties to know that there was more here than the cold formality that had been dominating the Blades since the assassinations, and as he glanced at his two most trusted workers, he let himself forget that the two could die any day during this dangerous game. Tamil, his knife in the dark. Portia, his possible successor. She would be ready with time, for that sword was looking more comfortable on her hip by the day. She was returning to him—to the cause, and Akatosh knew that such was his greatest desire for her. His career was not an easy one, but occasionally the pride and benefits went beyond anything ever promised.
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And next comes the dinner party, meaning more interaction between our favorite prince and his victim! Yeah! And thanks for the reviews. Also, I'd love to hear who everyone's favorite character is. I'm curious, because I'm really starting to get attached to Tamil, who I wasn't originally planning to make a major playing in the plot.
