It had been a long couple of days, and the first had been both the most exciting and the most trying.
He was confused, and angry with himself.
I was an idiot. He practically taunted me to do it and I knew better, and it happened anyway. It’s a good thing I caught myself before I drained him. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost him. This is bad enough all by itself.
Brynjolf had taken advantage of him, and he was angry about that. That had become clear immediately, when he was weak from being half drained, when Andante had helped him to bed, mortified by what he’d done, and Brynjolf had laughed again and refused to take a cure potion. It was clear. He wanted to be turned. Andante did not like the way he’d been led into helping that happen. And yet he found it impossible to maintain that anger long enough to say anything about it – because Brynjolf made that impossible.
“Come on, Bryn,” he’d said the next morning, as the fever had started to come on. “Please. Reconsider this. I have plenty of cure potions right upstairs. You need to take one. You’ll be right as rain in no time at all. You don’t want to do this to yourself.”
“Heh,” Brynjolf had said, grabbing Andante in a grip that was startlingly strong, especially for a sick man. “I don’t? You don’t think so?” And then he’d started nuzzling Andante’s neck. Oh dear gods, Andante had thought, struggling to maintain any sort of control over himself and losing the struggle. Saying no to Brynjolf was not something he seemed able to do, and he didn’t know whether it was Brynjolf’s special abilities at work or something else.
No, it’s not him, it’s me. If all I wanted was to sleep with him I could get up and walk away and he’d never be able to stop me. I’m stronger than he is. I’m in such trouble. I’ve always wanted to be with him but this is something else and I don’t like not knowing what it is.
It wasn’t as though becoming a vampire was the only thing Brynjolf had wanted. That was also clear, and Andante was mystified by it. Brynjolf had never given any signal before that he was in any way interested but now he was like a randy teenager. He had barely let Andante out of his sight, just long enough for him to dart over to the Guild and tell Delvin that Bryn wasn’t feeling well, he was at Honeyside, Andante would make sure he stayed down until he was better, please keep an eye on things here, and then he’d run back to Honeyside only to have Brynjolf start exploring with his hands yet again. He hadn’t even had a chance to hunt.
Andante was delighted with that part and was doing his very best to meet the challenge. But he was horrified about the other thing.
I wasn’t ever intending to turn him. It was just a fantasy, the two of us wreaking havoc across Tamriel and establishing our own clan in Castle Volkihar. Just a fantasy.
But we could really do it.
How did I let myself get led into this? I let myself think with my body and my emotions instead of my brain, that’s how.
But Brynjolf has to run the Guild. And I’m an assassin. So maybe we don’t take Volkihar. Maybe we do it from here.
What am I thinking? I want that castle.
Not a single part of it made sense, particularly not the very basic question of why Brynjolf had decided to take him on in the first place. Some men would no sooner have considered that than they would consider slitting their own wrists, no matter how much they wanted to be turned. He’d been curled up beside Brynjolf, watching him deal with the initial stages of the disease, when he’d asked him about it.
“I didn’t think you were interested in men, Bryn. I mean sure, I heard talk. Supposedly you’ve slept with everyone in the Guild.”
Brynjolf chuckled.
“I didn’t take any of it seriously. And besides that, there were other people who warned me that I was fighting a losing battle trying to get your attention. Delvin, for example. He was pretty definite about it. Unless… you really have slept with Hofgrir? Was I right about that after all?”
Brynjolf laughed, one of his hearty, happy laughs.
“I like to keep people guessing.” He grinned. “No, I haven’t been with Hofgrir; I was just pulling your leg, lad. And I haven’t slept with everyone in the Guild. That would be a stupid way to run a business, wouldn’t it.” He smiled, a soft smile, and turned to look at Andante as if he was making up his mind about something. He nodded.
“Well, would you like to hear a story?”
A story, is it?
“Of course, tell away.”
“That kind of talk always starts with a kernel of truth, you know that. And here’s my kernel. It’s an old one. Back a very long time ago, when I was a skinny young thing, I did a whole lot of things that were, well how do I put it. Adventurous? Foolhardy? Stupid?” He grinned again. “I tended to overestimate my abilities back then. Did some things I probably shouldn’t have done. So life was truly interesting. For a lot of years.”
“You, skinny? I can hardly picture it.”
“Skinny for me, anyway, with longer hair. Maybe a bit like your red-haired girl but not as well built on the top I’d wager.”
Andante guffawed. “Few are.”
He laughed. “And I had no beard. So here I am, this sweet-faced redheaded boy who liked to get into trouble, and not quite as good at this business then as I am now in spite of being raised up and trained by some of the best. Oh, I was good, very good indeed, even back then, but they didn’t send me on the most difficult jobs. I did tend to attract attention when I shouldn’t have, and not all of it from places you might expect.”
Andante couldn’t help feeling a bit warm at the mental image of a younger Brynjolf, beardless and unscarred, with long hair. He reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair off Brynjolf’s face and cringed. He’s burning up. Even though I have cold hands I can tell. I wish he would just take the cure.
“So I had a mark, this wealthy woman. I was supposed to steal one of her necklaces. An amazing piece, too, multiple sapphires, silver braided chain. She and her husband were throwing a party at the Blue Palace, and I worked my way into it by, uh… sweet-talking one of the serving girls, if you catch my drift.” Brynjolf cleared his throat and winked at Andante. “That was always one of my better talents, especially when I was a young lad. In fact, I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to get to that necklace, but I figured I might be able to work a little charm on the mark as well. She was a handsome woman, and it wouldn’t have been a hardship.”
“So we have something else in common, I see.”
Brynjolf laughed. “So it would seem. Well I got into the party and started looking around, and the most amazing fellow came over and started chatting me up.” His voice grew soft, and his eyes sparkled. “When I say amazing, I mean… he had eyes I couldn’t look away from. They were so blue, and just intense. Short black hair and mustache, and…”
Andante listened in amazement to the edge in Brynjolf’s voice. It was hard to disguise, though Brynjolf was trying to make light of it. This is real. He was really attracted to this man.
“He was gorgeous, lad,” Brynjolf continued. “Or at least I thought so.” He grinned. “You look a lot like him, truth be told. It’s one of the reasons I noticed you right away.”
Well, well. I’m not sure how to feel about that.
I can’t believe he’s telling me this. It must be the fever.
“Apparently he thought the same thing about me. It was pretty clear to me what he was interested in and that was just fine with me. He could have told me to take my clothes off right there in front of the party and I’d have done it and turned myself inside out to boot, that’s how far gone I was. I was just caught. I don’t know how to describe it, Andante. I looked at him, and he looked at me, and it was like we knew each other and had always known each other, and we were supposed to be together.”
You don’t have to describe it to me. I know that feeling. Fish on a hook, Brynjolf.
He looked at Andante and smiled, his eyes twinkling.
“It didn’t take me more than a couple of seconds to agree to meet him upstairs when he suggested it. Never been with a man before that and never since – well, until now of course — but let me tell you, lad, it was worth every single moment that followed.”
He reached for the tankard of water Andante had put next to the bed and paused to take a drink.
“Well, there we were, well and truly taking full advantage and enjoyment of each other when in walked this woman, bold as you please, and started screaming at the man I was… engaged with. I turned around to look, and there was the mark herself, red as a forge and angry as a wasp’s nest, and the man I was with turned out to be her husband.”
Andante roared with laughter. “No!”
“Yes, lad. ‘What are you doing with my husband’ was the phrase she used, as I recall. Very loudly. I would have thought it was pretty obvious, actually, given what was going on at that particular instant.” He snickered. “You know, I would have been more than happy to invite her to join the festivities except for this one thing. She had a knife in her hand. It wasn’t a very sharp knife, mind you, but I was more or less tangled up for just long enough that she had a good swipe or two at me.” He reached up to his left cheek. “And so it didn’t leave a nice clean scar.”
He stretched under the blanket. “I suppose I could have visited the face-changer a long time ago and gotten this taken care of, but every time I start to feel a little too cocky I reach up and remind myself of what happens when I get too distracted. And I also remember Dynjyl.”
“Oh so you got his name, then?”
“I got his name, and I got the necklace, and I got a lot more than that, every chance I could sneak back into his house, for a long while afterward. Scar and all. He didn’t mind. We had… a great deal of fun, the two of us.”
Then he looked at Andante and gave him a small smile. “So what it comes down to, in the end, is that I’m interested in the person I’m with, lad. Who they are. Not what they are. And Dynny,” he said softly, “he was special.”
Andante smiled. “So are you telling me that I’m special?”
Brynjolf smiled back. “The gods know you’ve told me that often enough since I’ve known you.”
Andante chuckled, and lifted his hand to Brynjolf’s feverish cheek, tracing the scar that he had never realized carried so much meaning. He had a thought, and before he could stop himself he had blurted it out.
“You loved him.”
Brynjolf smiled again, a smile that went up to his eyes and warmed them. Andante caught his breath. He wouldn’t have imagined this weathered, hardened man could make such a beautiful expression, but he did, and it reached into Andante and took him by the heart.
“Yes I did.” He smiled again. “I surely did,” he said, very quietly. “But that was a very long time ago and life has been very different since then.”
“Well then, where is he now? What happened?”
Brynjolf’s smile turned sad.
“Ah, well. That. He was a regular businessman, working for his wife’s family, but he was bored. Fancied himself a thief like me, and he really wasn’t. He had some modest skills, and I tried to teach him more, but… He had a talent for not being very careful. He tended to rush into things without doing a proper job of scouting first. He’s… been gone for a long time now.”
“Oh dear. I’m sorry, Brynjolf, I didn’t mean to…”
Brynjolf turned to look directly at him and smiled, a soft smile.
“Thank you lad. But there’s no need. It’s been many years. Half a lifetime. And I’ve managed to keep myself occupied since then.”
“With women.”
“Well, they are, generally speaking, my type, and always have been,” he said, grinning. “You’re a bit outside the norm, in a lot of ways.”
It surprised Andante, and not just because he was surprised that Brynjolf had had such a love affair as a young man. It may have been a very long time ago but it had left its mark on him in more ways than one; and however it had ended, Brynjolf clearly carried it with him as a precious gift, a jewel of his life that could never be taken from him.
I wish I knew whether I ever had something like that happen to me. His throat constricted for just a moment. But I don’t know, and I’ll never know.
Well I certainly can’t live up to that, Bryn. And I know you don’t love me, and you probably never will. But I’ll give you a run for your money if you’ll have me.
Then he laughed to himself. He certainly will have me. Repeatedly. By the gods when the man makes up his mind he is all about that decision. I may never sleep again.
Brynjolf chuckled. “You’ve actually met her, lad.”
Andante blinked. “What? Met who?”
“The wife.”
“I, uh… I’ve met Dynjyl’s wife?”
“Mmm-hmm. Do you remember the job you did just before I gave you the keys to Honeyside?”
Andante’s mouth fell open. “The woman in Solitude? With the rings? The one I had to… um… Bryn, really?”
Brynjolf stared at him for a moment and then broke into a fit of laughter. “You really did? With her?”
“Well I had to get into the bedroom somehow, dearest. It wasn’t the easiest assignment I’ve ever had but I managed.”
“Well, well,” Brynjolf giggled. “She was a handsome woman back when I knew her but it’s been twenty years. More than that. Yes, that was Dynny’s wife. The one who gave me this.” He reached up to touch his face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make fun of you. I hope it wasn’t too much of a trial.”
Andante laughed. “No, not really. Older women tend to be rather enthusiastic, in my experience.”
Brynjolf laughed more.
“So why now, Bryn? Why take me up on my rather obvious offer after all this time? Was it just so that you could get my fangs into your bloodstream?”
“If it had been just that, lad, I’d have been out the door already,” he said, grinning. “But I’m still here, and so are you. Don’t think this all hadn’t crossed my mind before now, although something tells me you knew that.”
“Well…” Andante smiled. “I was pretty sure something was going on a few nights ago. I can hear your heartbeat, you know.”
“I’d been thinking about it. You haven’t exactly made it a secret that you were interested, and I’ve been, well, at loose ends for awhile. A bit of a long dry spell. And I like you. Always have. That’s why. It was just… time. And you are,” he said, pulling Andante close and brushing a quick kiss across his mouth, “rather…” and another, “appealing.”
I give up. I’m just lost.
That had been the first day. But on this day, the third day, he sat at the side of the bed watching Brynjolf toss and turn. Nope, no restful sleep for you my friend. Not for a while yet. Not unless somehow I can force the cure down your throat.
He could do that, he knew. He was strong enough to snap Brynjolf in two; holding him down to force-feed the cure potion would be easy enough – but he had been hoping Brynjolf would make the decision on his own.
Worst of all, his own discomfort was growing. I need to go hunting soon or I’m not going to be able to hide things from the rabble. He looked at himself in the glass and frowned. Cheeks sunken, harder and harder to maintain any semblance of nice plump human Andante from times past. And the eyes were definitely not blue. It was worse than he’d thought. He was starving to death.
“Brynjolf,” he said, nudging Bryn’s shoulder.
“What is it, lad?” He blinked and tried to sit up, then fell back into the bed. The poor man was so sick. Well at least it’s almost over.
“I have to go hunting, Bryn. I’m going to die if I don’t. Really die, I mean. Will you be alright for a little bit?”
Brynjolf looked… almost afraid.
“I don’t know lad. I won’t lie, this is hard and it’s scaring me a bit.”
“For the love of Mara, take a healing potion. You still have time.”
He shook his head. “No, I can’t. I think it’s too late now, lad. I feel something happening, like it won’t be long.”
Andante sighed, considering his options. He looked closely at Brynjolf. Maybe he was right. His eyes did look different, the green maybe a bit paler. Maybe it really wouldn’t be long now, although he really should have more time; it had been evening when the bite had happened. But Andante had to eat, now, or he was going to turn into an ash pile just as Brynjolf needed him most.
“Let me check something. I’ll be right back.”
He darted up the stairs and opened the door a bit, to be hit in the face by the full force of a bright, sunny day, a rarity in Riften. His armor helped ward the worst effects of the sun, most of the time, but when he was starving there was no help for it. His face started to burn instantly. “Arrgh!” he cried, slamming the door shut.
“Is everything all right?” he heard from the bedroom.
“Uh, no, full day and bright sun makes Andante a sad boy. I’ll be all right in a moment or two.”
This is the worst timing I’ve ever had. He sighed. Well, I guess I’ll just be hungry for awhile longer. Maybe I can last. No I can’t. I can’t very well feed on Bryn, what am I going to do?
Then it dawned on him.
Many months earlier he’d been on his way from Riften to Whiterun when a screaming Vigilant of Stendarr had come flying out of the woods, attacking him with everything he had. The man had been a tough fight, much tougher than Andante had ever expected to face from a Vigilant. When he’d finally taken the Vigilant down and knelt to drain the blood from his body he’d discovered that he couldn’t; the man was a vampire. A much-weakened vampire, but a vampire nonetheless and Andante was not yet strong enough to feed on his own kind then as he could now. On the man’s corpse was a journal bemoaning his state, and promising to destroy as many others as he could. He’d also carried two blood potions with him. They weren’t nearly as good sustenance as the real thing but they would do in a pinch, and Andante had slipped them into his pack for a rainy day. He ran to his potions chest and rummaged around in it. Sure enough.
The mixture tasted stale and horrible, but it definitely helped. Within a few moments he felt the twitchiness and urge to hunt subside, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He also grabbed a healing potion. Damn it all, it would be so good to have a companion but Brynjolf didn’t really know what he was letting himself in for, smart as he thought he was. He ran back down the stairs.
Brynjolf cast him a quick look and reached out for his hand. Gave it a squeeze. Then closed his eyes and stopped moving. He was still as a stone, and not breathing.
“Aw damn, Brynjolf. I thought I had more time. I was going to force this down your throat. I’m so sorry.”
He sighed. It shouldn’t be long now.
A few minutes later Brynjolf gasped for breath and sat bolt upright, then leapt off the bed, clutching at himself as though he wasn’t certain of his own body. “Andante! Am I alive?”
Andante took Brynjolf’s chin and turned his face toward the light. His eyes were just as stunning as they had ever been, but they were no longer green. They were a vibrant gold.
“No, Brynjolf,” he said sadly. “You’re not. You’re undead, just like me. Here, you need to eat. And get back on the bed. You’re going to be weak for a little while.” He guided Brynjolf back to the bed and handed him the second blood potion. “This will taste awful but it’s sustenance. We’ll go hunting later.”
Brynjolf looked confused, but he drank the liquid and then grimaced.
“That’s disgusting.”
“Yeah it is. I know. I had one just before you woke up. Stale and tasteless. I prefer my meals warm.” He grinned. “But it was that or be dead from lack of food. I wonder…”
“What is it?”
“I wonder how much of my abilities you may have inherited.”
“What?”
He grinned at Brynjolf. “I’m your sire, dear. You should be able to do many of the things I can do. Now, one of the things I can do is feed on my own kind. Our …own kind. Most new vampires can’t. I couldn’t at first. But if you can do that…”
He guided Brynjolf’s hand to his neck, to feel his pulse. His blood was not warm human blood but it would do.
Brynjolf stared at him.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re too weak to go hunting right now and it’s far too bright outside for me, much less for a newly-fledged vampire. My armor helps with sun but you’d burn to ash in moments. Now do what I tell you just for once and eat. Or at least see whether you can.”
Brynjolf muttered to himself. “Why do I always end up with people telling me I need to eat?”
He moved closer and nuzzled Andante’s neck, the way he had so many times in the past few days. Andante closed his eyes and drank it in, the lovely sensations of Brynjolf’s beard whispering across his skin, hearing his heartbeat speed up as the instinct to feed built, and then gasped with pleasure as Brynjolf’s new fangs sank into his neck.
“Oh wonderful. Wonderful. Don’t drain me dry, dear,” he said. “But help yourself.”
He’s so strong. I can’t believe it.
Brynjolf moaned, and fed, then fell back onto the bed. He was still weak, and would be for a while yet. He lay there looking at Andante, not quite confused but clearly just a little overwhelmed by the implications of what had just happened to him. It was to be expected. People thought it would be fun, or glamorous, Andante thought. And then it turned out to be hard, and you were sick, and then when it was finished you were hungry, so very hungry, for such a long time. At least Brynjolf hadn’t been alone.
And then Andante grinned at his newly-fledged protégé, a perfectly evil idea dancing around in his head. I can’t help myself, he thought, this has to happen. He slipped out of his clothing entirely, watching Brynjolf watching him with an increasingly devilish smile. He reached across Brynjolf to the bedside stand, pulled out two of the small bottles, and gave one of them to Brynjolf.
“Now, my dear,” he said. “Originally I was going to tell you to sleep, rest until nighttime, and then we’ll go hunting. But I have a better idea to pass our time until nightfall. You were looking for another one of these the other night. It’s quite safe now that you’re a vampire, and you’re not going anywhere right away. I’ll join you.” If it was good enough for Dynjyl, it’s good enough for me.
Brynjolf’s yellow eyes flashed, and the corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. “You’re a bad influence, Andante,” he responded, then drained his bottle, never looking away from Andante’s eyes.
Oh there it is. I knew it was in you, that dark place, that need, the one that consumes everything and is never satisfied. The one that wants power. You’ve been fighting yours all your life. I have one of my own. We match. The difference is that I don’t fight it.
You looked at Dynjyl all those years ago and whatever outward form you each had meant nothing because the two of you recognized each other, and you had to have each other. Just the way we are looking at each other now. So yes, Bryn. I’ll be your Dynny if that’s what you want. I’ll help you become more powerful, if that’s what you want. I don’t know where that dark place in your eyes leads but as long as you take me with you where you go, I will go too. I don’t know what kind of man I was before, but I know who I am now, and the only thing I want is you. I am yours. Whatever you want. Just ask.
“Yes. Yes I am. And so are you.”
Andante tossed his back, waited for the familiar soaring rush of the skooma to begin blurring his vision. He sighed happily, then knelt over Brynjolf. Gods, I really am such a bad influence, he thought. It’s my defining quality. I wonder if it always has been.
“You don’t have to do a thing, Bryn. Just enjoy it.”
A few minutes later, Brynjolf moaned and said “Shor’s beard, lad.”
Andante lifted his head and grinned at Brynjolf. “Yes indeed.”