Author's Note: Ohai.
IODH. Not mine. Stop sending the lawyers.
Nobody Important
Chapter Twenty: Visitor
In which nobody actually dies.
By: N3k0
Martin Septim was throwing a childish fit, and he knew it. Some of the bowls and plates were flung across the room with his bare hands. They clattered against the walls, his desk, the floor. Some of the books, his last ink pot, and three quills came to life with the dull glow of purple fire and jumped at the walls on their own.
It felt good. Cathartic.
And then he heard someone clear their throat behind him. One of the books – a heavy tome, Varieties of Daedra – changed course, aimed at this interloper, who sat calmly on his bed.
The intruder caught the book easily, with both hands. Those pale, dainty, thoroughly scarred, blood-spattered hands had moved faster than normal human reflexes should allow. Then again, as the intruder lowered the book, he could tell by the ears it was some kind of elf.
At first, Martin could barely even guess the gender of his guest. She opened her mouth to speak, and her voice was gravelly with disuse.
"Martin Septim." She nodded politely, setting the book aside. She wore simple black clothing, reinforced in key places by blackened leather. The sleeves of her tunic were shredded, and on closer inspection, Martin realized that she had been wearing gloves. Her arms were torn up. The wounds matched those of the previous victim. Clannfear claws. Clannfear teeth.
Clannfear claws paralyze.
Her eyes were glowing crimson. And her teeth … her teeth.
Martin took a step back, then another. A third. He stumbled against his desk and picked up one of the newly-dented plates in self-defense.
She was a vampire. And he was going to die.
Martin saw her expression, for just a moment. She looked hurt – emotionally, not just physically.
Then she vanished.
He caught another glimpse of those fierce red eyes. And then …
And then ….
The plate clattered to the floor. Martin couldn't remember why he was holding it. Everything from the neck up hurt, a general, throbbing pain, so he pressed his palm to his forehead and a cool, soothing light rushed through him.
His tantrum. The noise. The stress. He'd probably given himself a headache, fool he was. Bah.
He opened his eyes to see a vaguely attractive Bosmer female sitting quietly on his bed. Her eyes were green, and there was something to that … he didn't know what, and really, it didn't matter, did it? Martin certainly wouldn't normally object to a pretty woman in his bed, under most circumstances. These not being most circumstances, however, he laid odds that she was either some kind of insomnia- or stress-related hallucination, or an assassin sent to kill him.
"I could kill you before you could scream for help from the guards." Option two, then. She peeled the remnants of her gloves away, and he briefly wondered what had destroyed them. There was blood, true, but no severe wounds remained. "Please, don't waste their time." Martin thought he should probably take offense at something about that statement, but he really wasn't in a position to argue with the girl. She spoke in the cool, deadly tones of someone who could, had, and would again do murder, and she did have quite a few blades that he could see. "I've had a … very bad night." She inspected her hands.
Like he hadn't! "... what do you want?" He got the impression that the Bosmer would never have let him see her if she had truly wanted to hurt him, threat aside. Even as he watched, she seemed to fade from view. Only the fact that he knew she was there kept her form distinct in his eyes, and even then it was only when he looked directly at her that he could see her clearly. His mind knew that it was probably some kind of dedicated chameleon spell. His eyes insisted that sometimes she just vanished.
"You need to leave this place." Her voice remained even. Quiet.
He frowned. "Or what, you'll kill me?" She raised an eyebrow, and he winced, reconsidering his words somewhat. "I am not leaving until it's safe for everyone to leave. With that gate out there, if we tried to evacuate this place, most of us would die. I would die."
She nodded quietly.
And this time, when she vanished, he knew that he was alone.
Why didn't he feel any safer?