Author's Note: Whoo, Real Life occurred. For the time being I have some time to write.

The things happening in this chapter are either romance or mind control. Take your pick, both stances are equally valid.

Disclaimer: I own two copies of Oblivion, one for the PC, one for the XBox. Last I checked, that did not confer ownership of the title to me. That ownership lies with Bethesda.

Nobody Important

Chapter Thirty-Four: Control

In which it's lost. Again.

By: N3k0

It was like walking out of a dream into a nightmare.

One moment, all she could think about was the warm tingling spreading throughout her body, the deep hum of Martin's blood in her veins.

The next, she was seized by her arms, the angry Breton woman glaring into her eyes. Her blood was high, pumping quickly through her body. She smelled kind of sour, and Lyssi knew the woman had been the one to throw up. Not as edible. Vaguely, she realized the Breton had asked her something, that she was supposed to respond to it, probably.

"What?" she asked, dumbly.

The woman inhaled through her teeth. "I said, what in Oblivion are you playing at? Bringing him here, messing with his mind - what kind of monster are you? What was that about? What ... all those people ..." She turned away, dropping Lyssi for a moment. She looked like she might need to vomit again.

Lyssi blinked slowly, trying to piece together what the woman was on about.

"I didn't kill those people. So, I didn't know they would be there. I'm ... sorry?" Was that right? She thought that was the response she was supposed to give. All she could think about was the dull throbbing in her fangs. She wanted another taste of blood, she could still smell it, all around her, on her, in her. "The person who killed them needs to die." She nodded once. Preferably, she'd kill him. And eat him. So hungry.

The woman narrowed her eyes, peering at her. "I don't believe you."

"It's true. He's a traitor." Secrets, things were falling apart, she didn't care what she said, though. She just wanted to feed. Was that so wrong? "He has to die because he's a traitor."

There was a long silence, so she decided to fill it. "I'm hungry," she heard herself whine. The others looked at her, horror on their faces. She couldn't understand why, at first. When she did, she felt her cheeks color, which only made her stomach rumble. It wasn't her fault. She ducked her head, embarrassed. "Well, I am," she muttered.

She could feel them, looking at each other, then at her. Words were traded without any sound.

The Nord rolled up one sleeve, offering his forearm to her. Her eyes lit up, and she sank her fangs eagerly. The man grunted as she swallowed greedily.

"What do you mean, a traitor?" The woman murmured it to Lyssi, keeping her voice soft.

Lyssi had to release the Nord to respond. She heard the words leave her mouth before she could think about them. "He killed his Brothers and Sisters."

"And, why do you have to kill him?" The woman was prodding for information she didn't need to have.

She frowned, licking the Nord's arm from elbow to wrist, thinking. Everything was so fuzzy. "He tricked me into killing them, too."

Martin sucked in a breath, as Lyssi traced healing light over the pinprick wounds in the Nord's arm. "You're the one he mentioned in his journal, aren't you."

"Dunno. Didn't read it." She returned to herself slowly, and with a sinking feeling in her gut. They already knew too much, though, what was a little more, really?

You should kill them when you get the chance. She heard Vicente's voice in her head, but no - she knew she wouldn't obey. She liked the humans too much. You loved your Family.

Martin and Ariel traded another look. "We can't help her with this, Martin," Ariel spoke first.

Lyssi nodded. "They can't know you know."

"They?" Martin asked.

She looked away. "The Brotherhood. They'd kill you."

"Then we should part ways." He didn't sound like he liked that idea much.

She didn't much care for it either. She liked the nice healer, and something inside her had already staked a claim on him. Something inside her recognized that Martin was her human, and she was loath to give him up. But he was right, she knew he was. She nodded her agreement, worrying her lip with one sharp fang.

He was there, then, his lips capturing hers, his hands holding her shoulders, keeping her still while he worked a kind of magic over her. The quick, gentle kiss became something more than that, electricity arcing between them.

Several long moments passed before either one of them could speak. Finally, Ariel coughed politely. "We should be going. There's a lot of ground to cover between here and Chorrol."

Wordlessly, Martin turned away. Before long at all, it was just Lyssi and the half-mad dog.

Lyssi was rooted in place, caught completely flat-footed, and as the dog shared her will, it, too, was frozen for the moment. What in Oblivion ... ?

A faint smile crossed her lips, and she covered them with her fingertips.

He liked her!

"You know, I told you not to blush."

Lyssi turned, the dog growling at her heel, eyes wide. "... you saw."

The Dunmer nodded. "Don't worry, I'm not going to stop you." He smiled reassuringly. "Anyone who could do what that man has done needs to be put down." He glanced back toward the lighthouse, a scowl flittering across his features. "I am only sorry I had not seen what was going on in my city."

She peered at him, thoughtfully. "Will you help?"

"No." He shook his head, looking sad. "I can't afford to leave Anvil unprotected. If that monster returns, perhaps. I will, however, notify the authorities. Those people need a decent burial."

There was a long, uneasy silence between them. She broke it first. "I like him," she began.

"I would say more than like, if you are letting him kiss you." He raised his eyebrow. "Unless he caught you by surprise?"

She shook her head. "I mean, he did. But ... I worry."

The Dunmer nodded. "You're afraid he doesn't really like you."

"But he kissed me." She frowned. "That means he does, doesn't it?" She worried her lip again, drawing blood without thinking about it. Her tongue darted out to swirl against the wound.

He shook his head once. "It can mean any number of things. Especially for a vampire."

"I'm scared," she admitted.

Another nod. "Are you afraid of yourself, or of that boy?" He folded his arms, easily. While she worked out the answer, she took a moment to appreciate how different the smith's hunting garb was from his civilian clothes. He dressed in supple black leather, armed to the teeth with weapons that gleamed silver in the moonlight. Recognizing some of the pieces from the shop, she realized he probably made most of the gear himself.

"Both, I think," she replied finally.

He smiled once more. "That's a good sign. Now shoo, I've kept you here long enough."