CHAPTER 20

Rioghnan's first instinct was to tell his mother all about the old mage who had been staring at him so audaciously while he'd been out on his own. He was certain it was the same mer she was referring to, and the thought that someone wicked enough to have conceivably murdered his father had been watching him for a significant amount of time was horrifying. However, he thought better of it. It would serve no purpose other than to upset and frighten his mother even more, and she was already in quite a state.

He hastily gathered a few sets of clothing and stuffed them into a rucksack – the very same one his mother had used when she'd fled the Psijic Order many years before. Pulling the hood of his cloak up around his face, he followed Lilaena as they made their way to the Hlaalos' imposing residence, carefully avoiding interaction with anyone they passed. The unspoken trepidation between them was palpable, even as they approached the front door to the house. Lilaena silently prayed to the gods that they wouldn't hear that hideous, familiar old voice ring out from nearby.

The Hlaalos seemed delighted to see the two of them and offered the usual pleasantries. Lilaena and Rioghnan feigned an air of normality as best they could as they sat down to some of Thalys' comberry chai and biscuits, and Lilaena tried to ever-so-casually ease into the real reason for their visit.

"Belvyn, I have a favor to ask of you. You've already done so much for us, I hate to ask for more, but Rioghnan has had some difficulty with learning to use magic, and I'm just not able to help him advance. You wouldn't happen to know anyone with whom he might be able to begin some sort of apprenticeship, would you?"

She was awash with relief at seeing a familiar gleam arise in Belvyn's eye. Nothing pleased her boss more than being the one who could step in and save the day for his friends, and now she knew this would be no exception. "My dear, have you heard of the College of Winterhold?"

Lilaena perked up a bit. "Yes, yes – I've heard of it."

"Well… I have a brilliant colleague who is employed there as an instructor. I am sure if I were to speak to her on your behalf, she'd gladly take on our boy here – our adopted Altmer grandson - as a student." He grinned and winked at Rioghnan.

"That would be wonderful!" Lilaena replied, clasping her hands together. "Please, let me know as soon as possible if she's able to help. I am forever grateful to you, as you know."

"Anything for good mer like yourselves, sera. You know that. I'll send a message first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thank you so much." Lilaena forced a grin as a wave of anxiety washed over her. It would take a couple of days, at least, for a messenger to return with an answer from Winterhold. She wracked her brain for a way to keep Rioghnan safe in the interim. She briefly considered asking the Hlaalos if he could stay with them but she couldn't think of a proper excuse, and she certainly didn't want to tell them the truth. As kind as they'd always been to her, there existed a small chance they'd unthinkingly tell someone else, starting a rumor, and she couldn't have that. Besides, he'd still be far too easy for Galerion to find, should he endeavor to do so.

As they wrapped up the visit, Lilaena's mind was still focused on what she could do to protect Rioghnan until word came back from Winterhold. She felt it would be best for her to remain in her longtime flat, on the off chance that Galerion decided to pay her a visit or investigate to any extent, but she absolutely did not want her son present. Her fears were twofold: Not only was Galerion himself a potential threat due to his apparent involvement in her lover's strange disappearance, should he chance to recognize Rioghnan as Mannimarco's progeny, and make it known that the boy's father was a suspected necromancer, the consequences for her son's future could be dire. She knew she simply could not take the chance of this happening.

An idea came to her as they stealthily made their way back to their home. If she could allow him to stay in one of the Hlaalos' unoccupied rental dwellings for the time being, it would certainly lessen the chances of Galerion happening to see him, or worse, seeing the two of them together, thereby serving to refresh his three hundred year old memories of their dealings at the Psijic Order. Her only reservations concerning this plan were regarding her ability to trust Rioghnan to stay in the vacant residence for the next couple of days, without slipping out and about in search of Nilsie or any such nonsense.

Lilaena shared her thoughts with her son. He agreed that it seemed to be the best plan, and swore that he wouldn't set foot outside the flat until she came to fetch him. She packed plenty of food and drink, as well as some books for him to read, a pen and some blank parchment for drawing, and other items she hoped would keep him occupied.

Rioghnan was rather excited by the prospect of spending a night or two alone, having shared the close quarters of their flat with his mother for the entirety of his life. He did vaguely like the idea of somehow sneaking Nilsie into the place to provide some entertainment and companionship, but he knew betraying his mother's trust in a situation like this would be a rather unwise choice to make.

The flat was tiny and sparsely furnished, but Rioghnan could barely conceal his glee at the idea of getting to pretend it was his own place. As soon as they stepped through the doorway, he set about making himself at home, lighting the candles throughout the cramped, dingy room and unpacking his knapsack. He placed the books and paper on the rickety dining table and stuffed his outfits into a dilapidated wooden dresser.

Lilaena was amused at her son's obvious eagerness but admonished him that he must remember to stay safe and hidden at all times. She stayed for a bit, just to ascertain that he had all he would need, and that the place was as secure as it could be, before giving him a tight squeeze and a kiss and heading back to their home. She couldn't help her nervousness at the thought of this situation, but she felt it was the best course of action possible under the current circumstances.

Rioghnan immediately made himself a plate of snacks and set about drawing some sketches of various things – an armored warrior battling a large and grotesque dremora; a few different types of weapons; a dreugh ready to pounce. He tried to picture the facial features of the red-haired high elf girl and drew her to the best of his recollection. He daydreamed that she might just happen to appear at his door, in search of someone else, perhaps, but upon finding him, decide to stay and spend the night there. He wasn't actually sure what they'd do, but he imagined that perhaps a situation similar to what had happened the night he snuck out with Nilsie, wherein he would wind up rather close to her, would be very enjoyable.

He decided at once to pretend she was there. This was his place; he could do that, and no one would think him silly or chide him for it. He poured a second glass of juice, set some biscuits across the table from where he sat, and proceeded to have a one-sided conversation with his imaginary companion. It was great fun. He acted out a whole evening's worth of chatting and joking and carrying on.

It occurred to him after a while that it was probably getting rather late, so he extinguished all but one candle, changed into his bedclothes, and went to lie down and read for a bit in the hopes he'd begin to feel tired enough to sleep. The bed was quite a bit lumpier than his own at home, and it smelt dank, like the cabin of an old boat. He thought he might never fall asleep.

He slipped back into his fantasy that the Altmer girl was there with him, fancying her lying at his side on the narrow mattress. He hadn't been aware of drifting off, but didn't find it odd when she had materialized in the flesh next to him, or when her face morphed into Nilsie's as she pulled him closer until her body was pressed firmly against his. She crammed her thigh between his legs, sliding it upward, crowding him, and he abruptly became aware of a potent, quite nearly alarming sensation in his nether regions - rather like how it had felt as he was lying on top of Nilsie, only almost frightening in its intensity. His pulse picked up and he recognized, as if looking in from the outside, that his body was no longer wholly under the control of his conscious mind. Reflexively, he crammed himself hard against her leg, causing the sensation to intensify to where it approached unbearable; every fiber of his being was focused in on this incredible feeling which seemed as though it couldn't possibly get any stronger until she moved her leg again and the feeling reached a searing peak, jolting him out of the dream, and then he lay there shaken with his heart still pounding in his ears, wondering what in Oblivion had just happened to him.

His pajama bottoms were wet in the front, which was something he'd been encountering upon awakening recently but the mechanism of which he'd never previously been aware of. He had awkwardly confessed to his mother about the occurrences, fearing they were an indication of something being amiss, but she'd assured him it was quite normal without elaborating much more than that. But this… And the dream that had led to it… Gods. He wasn't sure he'd be able to summon the audacity to share any of it with Lilaena, as much as he desired to know what in Nirn it actually was, and why. He wasn't even quite sure if he was afraid of it happening again, or if he wanted to perhaps try to cause it to happen again intentionally. Too tired to attempt to clean up his wet pajama bottoms, he pulled them off and slept the rest of the night without them.