“Let me look at you.”
Brynjolf turned to face him, as they stood just at the base of the stairs. It had taken them considerably longer to prepare themselves to leave than Andante had anticipated, and he certainly didn’t mind that. Still, he wanted to get Brynjolf outside and learning how to take care of himself in his new state.
I’m the one who did this; I need to make sure he can take care of himself.
Why do I even care? I don’t remember caring about any of the others I’ve turned. Don’t remember their names, and I’m not sure whether they’ve survived or not – and it doesn’t matter. But this does.
“Yes, lad?”
Oh my goodness. He’s so beautiful.
He smiled, and couldn’t stop smiling.
Andante was quite certain that “beautiful” wasn’t the word most people would choose to describe Brynjolf. He’d lived a rugged life, and it showed in his face, in his rough skin, his jagged scar, and his nearly constant frown. His eyes were usually either distrustful or seductive depending on whether he was sizing up a threat or being manipulative. His mouth could describe either disdain or amusement with only the smallest change, but only rarely moved into a full smile. And yet there he stood, his eyes glowing golden, and Andante thought he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“You look good, Brynjolf. And we’d better get going or I’ll not be able to focus on anything else.”
Brynjolf chuckled.
“I thought I was the insatiable one. At least that’s what you’ve been telling me. Now what was it that you needed to show me?”
Andante shook his head a bit, trying to get himself to pay attention to business.
“The illusion spell. You need to learn it and you need to keep it up, all the time. It’s the difference between being able to walk around in company and being attacked with torches and atronachs, and you of all people really need to be able to walk around. Think of facing Maven Black-Briar looking like a vampire; that would be unpleasant. Let me show you.”
Andante gathered his power and tossed the illusion on himself, and once again had the semblance of the icy blue eyes he’d been born with, and the more rounded cheeks of an Imperial man. Brynjolf smiled.
“Ah yes, I remember that face.” He reached out to touch Andante’s cheek. “You really do look so much like Dynny, except…”
Andante raised an eyebrow. “Except?”
“You don’t look so innocent. He always looked like he’d never had any experience with the world.”
Andante laughed, and cast the spell again, removing the illusion.
“And now?” he grinned.
“And now you look like something a person should avoid, lad. Which is just fine, as far as I’m concerned. More for me.” He stepped closer toward Andante, his own eyes dancing.
By the gods I love this. But we need to eat.
“No, no, loverboy. Not right now. I need to see you cast the spell, and we need to go hunting. There’s enough time for that later, after we’ve made sure Delvin has the helm.”
“He’s not going to like that.”
“No, he’s not. You’re the boss, Bryn. Delegate, for a change. Make him earn his keep.”
Brynjolf laughed.
I remember hearing this laugh all the time when we first met. I’ve missed it. By the gods it’s good to hear him laugh.
“Alright. I’m not much of a spellcaster, lad. I’m a thief. And a Nord, to boot, not much in the way of magic. Let me see if I can do this.”
“Of course you can. You can do that Nightingale thing with your mind. You should also have my abilities, or at least enough of them to do this.”
Brynjolf furrowed his brow and concentrated, and then it was as though something clicked in his mind. He looked at his hand and curled it into a cup as a shimmering, green ball of energy appeared; then he released it. He turned to Andante, excited.
“And?”
He’s still beautiful.
And a quick study, to boot. Absurdly quick.
“Green eyes. Perfect. You’ll be able to tell when it’s about to dissipate and you absolutely must cast it again. Immediately. Promise me. Never let them see what you really are.”
Brynjolf shrugged. “I’ve spent a lifetime doing that sort of thing, lad.”
Andante reached out and cupped Brynjolf’s face with both hands.
“Promise me,” he said, quietly, without a trace of his usual banter. “Please.”
Brynjolf looked surprised for a moment. Then his eyes softened, and he gave Andante a small smile and nodded.
“I promise. I should know better. It’s important to be cautious, and of all people I ought to remember that.”
Andante smiled, and dropped his hands. “Thank you.” He studied Brynjolf’s face for a moment, taking in the sadly nostalgic look in his eyes.
Some day I’m going to have him tell me what happened. He needs to let go of it. That’s one of those memories that is worse than not remembering at all. For all I know I might have lost someone important, too. But I’ll never know.
Brynjolf frowned.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m hungry. We need to go.”
Andante laughed. “Yes, alright. I think we should go talk to Delvin first. We need to be well away from here for a few days and there’s something important I have to do, in Morthal. I’ll tell you about it while we travel.” He headed for the door and then turned back to grin at Brynjolf again. “I can’t wait to see you do this.”
___
It was a quiet night, calm and cool. The sounds of the skirmish at Fort Greenwall reached them before they reached it: swords and shield clashing, men and women swearing, cries of pain and the occasional shriek of a magical spell. A whiff of sulphur on the breeze told of a fire atronach that had since dissipated. They crept closer. Andante watched the battle for a moment before turning to face Brynjolf. He nodded at the soldiers and whispered.
“Pick one. One of the stragglers, one who’s just downed someone and is looking for his next target. Sneak up behind him and have at it. I’ll make sure to serve as a distraction if I need to so that nobody will pay any attention to you, not that I think you’ll have any trouble.” He looked around at the carnage. “I’m not fond of it, but I’ll fill up on one of the recently deceased while you go for the fresh selections. That’s one of my many talents. I would expect it to be one of yours as well.”
“Lad.” Brynjolf looked horrified.
Andante snickered. I can’t imagine that feeding on the dead is something he’d ever thought about, after all. “Just… go. We’ll discuss my sad sense of humor later.”
He watched as Brynjolf did exactly as he’d suggested. There was a lone Stormcloak soldier in the process of standing up, wrestling his warhammer out of the ribcage of the Imperial soldier he’d just taken down, when Brynjolf rose behind him and sank his fangs into the man’s neck. The soldier made a small noise, but then crumpled to the ground.
It helps that he’s such an accomplished thief. They don’t even hear him.
To his complete surprise, Brynjolf shimmered out of sight and reappeared a couple of moments later, beside Andante.
“Oh well done, my dear. Well done indeed! The kill, the retreat, all very well done.” He hadn’t expected Brynjolf to be such a natural at using his powers without instruction; but here he was, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, having blinked out of sight for a moment to slip away safely and none of the other soldiers trying to kill each other had taken the slightest notice.
Brynjolf grinned.
“He tasted… good. Really good, I mean.”
“Of course he did. Better than I did, I would assume, given that he is – was – a live man.”
“I wasn’t going to mention that, but since you brought it up first, yes. Warm is definitely better.” He snickered. “But please tell me you’re not going to eat a corpse.”
“Oh, all right. In all seriousness, though, it is something that can be done in a pinch, just like those blood potions. It doesn’t taste good but it will keep you from turning into a pile of ash. And … Bryn, this is important. Look at me.”
Brynjolf had been looking around, watching the battle, his attention clearly straying from what Andante had been telling him. He looked back at Andante, chewing on the inside of his mouth.
“Sorry, lad. I’m still hungry and I was looking for another target.”
“I know you were, and that’s exactly why this is important.” Andante frowned. I don’t know how to stress this enough. I don’t know why I care so much. I didn’t tell this to any of the others I’ve turned. “If you are a human, you can go without food for a long time and won’t die if you at least have water. I know this from personal experience.”
Brynjolf raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look. You didn’t see me when I first… woke up. I went a long time without food given the state of me. The important thing is now. You’re not human. You’re vampire. And if you start to starve it will take only a few minutes for you to become the pile of dried-up ashes you would otherwise be. There’s no coming back from that. Please tell me that you understand.”
“Aye, I get it.”
“So you will learn how to feed from corpses, as distasteful as it is, and that is going to be the difference between life and death some day. I guarantee it will.”
Brynjolf nodded.
“All right, lad. I understand. Thank you for pointing that out.”
Andante heaved a sigh of relief and looked around.
“In the meantime, you’re still underfed. Listen, you’re going to want to repeat that maneuver with the soldier as often as you can. Sometimes that means feeling a little overly well-fed. It will also make you strong. I’ll show you what I mean. Let’s go.”
They slipped around the outside of the fort just as the skirmish was winding down. There was a small patrol of three Imperial soldiers heading up the road toward Shor’s Stone, and Andante slipped into line behind them, moving silently.
I wonder when I learned how to move like this. I’m just ridiculously good at it. I wonder if Bryn is right and I’ve been a thief my whole life. That might explain it.
He stepped up to the last in line, pulled him backward, and pierced the man’s neck, draining him. Without missing a beat he dropped the soldier’s corpse, sped up enough to reach the second soldier, a woman, and fed on her as well. The man leading the patrol was a big Nord with blonde hair peeking out from under his helmet. Andante sneered, stood, and used his fangs to rip out his throat, then gorged on every drop he could.
He stood, panting, and turned to see Brynjolf watching him with his arms crossed.
“And now you’re so full you can’t breathe, unless I miss my guess.”
Andante burst out laughing.
“Yes. But that’s also why I’m a Nightlord, my dear. You will be, too. I’m sorry, I was just demonstrating. All right, I was showing off. But feed a few hundred times and you’ll see what I mean.”
“A few hundred? That’s impressive.”
Andante laughed. “Twelve or thirteen, in my case.”
“Shor’s bones, lad.”
“Indeed. I’m a greedy son of a bitch, Brynjolf. I thought you knew that.”
Brynjolf laughed his hearty laugh, and nodded.
“Let’s go find you another course.”
They continued north. Andante broke into a sprint and was delighted to see Brynjolf match his speed, effortlessly, a smile on his face as he learned what his new body could do.
I remember that. I remember the feeling of excitement when I learned I could move like this.
And I don’t remember anything else about myself.
Who was I?
They slowed once or twice along the way as they passed lone hunters so that Brynjolf could feed again. Before he did so, Andante shared another lesson.
“You don’t need to kill them. In fact it’s convenient not to, especially if you’re near a town and the only food available is a guard. Just calm them and you can take enough to fill up, and as long as nobody else sees you do it, you’ll be fine.”
“Alright, let me try that.”
And Brynjolf was a natural. His next victim was aware of having a spell cast on him and made a comment about not feeling any different, but it was completely effective. Brynjolf once again came away licking his lips.
I wonder if it was like this when he was a young man. Even if he wasn’t as good then as he is now, as he said, he must have been a natural thief early on to rise so high. He just learns so quickly.
They were running alongside the volcanic tundra just south of Kynesgrove when an arrow came flying out of the dark and struck Andante’s pauldron. He turned to his left and snarled, then spotted the pair of bandits just behind an embankment.
“Time to practice some more spells,” he said, gathering his life-draining spell into his left hand and pulling out his daedric axe with his right. “Quickly, can you do this?”
Brynjolf looked at Andante’s hand for a moment and nodded.
“I think so. Let’s go.” He lifted his hand and focused.
Andante saw the red glow of the spell forming in Brynjolf’s hand and nodded. He would hold back with his own spell for a few moments because it was strong enough to drop an enemy in a few moments. Brynjolf needed the practice. Not that he can’t defend himself but he needs to know how this works. One of the bandits rushed him; he extended his palm and briefly drew life from the man, blocking with his axe; he glanced to his left and saw Brynjolf doing the same, brandishing his sword with his right hand.
“My blade thirsts for your blood,” he heard Brynjolf growl, and he laughed. And so do you, I think.
Then he looked back at the bandit who had been attacking him and sighed.
“Enough of this, already,” he said, and took the man down with a quick swing of his axe.
He looked back just in time to see Brynjolf do something that he himself wasn’t especially good at. The bandit was weakening, but Brynjolf’s spell wasn’t strong enough yet to make quick work of him, and wouldn’t be for some time to come. Brynjolf snarled, leapt forward, and attacked with his fangs in mid-battle. He stood there for a moment, latched onto the man’s neck, and the bandit slowly went limp. Brynjolf dropped him to the ground and then trotted over to where Andante stood. He looked at Andante, then down to the dead bandit at his feet.
“I suppose I should try this, too,” he murmured, then knelt and began feeding from the corpse. A moment later he stood, grimacing.
“That’s… awful.”
“Yes, but it’s blood.” Andante shook his head and smiled. “You surprise me, Bryn. You’re just a natural. Well done. That combat bite, especially. I wasn’t expecting to see that from you. I’m not very good at it myself, not that I haven’t practiced.”
Brynjolf shrugged. “Tooth and claw, lad. I don’t have claws but I surely have teeth now. And besides, I am also a greedy son of a bitch. I thought you knew that.” He smirked. “Why else do you think I became a thief?”
Andante started laughing, and was still smiling as they passed Kynesgrove.
They’d turned onto the east-west road from Windhelm when Brynjolf brought up the one thing Andante hadn’t really wanted to talk about.
“So what is this important thing you need to do in Morthal?”
Andante grimaced.
“Let’s talk about it later. We need to get to my old house before it’s full day.”
“You have a house up here?”
“Near the Nightgate Inn. You know the place?”
“Of course.”
“Well it’s near that, up on the hill. It’ll keep us from shriveling up while it’s bright outside. We need to run, though, so let’s hold the chat until then and focus on getting ourselves safe.” He broke into a sprint, listening for Brynjolf’s footsteps behind him and smiling as he heard them; and he was grateful for an excuse to put off the inevitable for a bit longer.
The sun was above the horizon as they ran up the hill and slipped into the cabin he’d been living in when he became a vampire himself. Brynjolf followed him, and breathed a sigh of relief.
“It was getting a bit warm out there, wasn’t it?”
Andante laughed. “Yes, and the sun’s not even very high up. Very important for you to remember, Bryn. I have some resistance because of my armor but you don’t, yet. You need to be indoors during the day unless it’s very cloudy. Rain, snow, those are workable; otherwise, sleep, or do other things indoors.” He gestured around the room. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be here for a few hours. We can take turns sleeping, if you’re tired.”
“All right.” Brynjolf sat down next to the woodstove and pulled a book off the nearby table, while Andante lit a fire in the kitchen area. He was checking the cabinets to see what he might have left behind when he heard the soft voice ask what he’d been hoping to avoid answering.
“So here we are. It’s later and we’re safe. What is this thing we have to do in Morthal, lad?”
Damn it.
He sat down on the floor in front of Brynjolf and looked up at him, smiling. Maybe if I’m smiling it won’t seem so bad.
“Not ‘we,’ Bryn, me. I have to, um…”
“Yes?”
“Get cured. Become human again.”
Brynjolf looked up from his book, slowly, and stared at Andante. His expression stayed neutral, as usual, but when he spoke his voice told Andante to tread carefully.
“What did you just say?”
Andante sighed. “I need to be cured. That’s what I just said.”
Brynjolf vaulted out of the chair and strode to the far side of the room, shaking his head, as Andante rose.
“Are you mad? You just turned me and you’re going to get yourself cured?”
Andante gave him a small smile.
“You rather made certain it was likely to happen, though, didn’t you? Yes, I turned you, but you were quite enthusiastic about it, as I recall. It was not as though I didn’t try everything short of holding you down to get you to cure yourself, Brynjolf, before it was too late.”
I knew this was going to be difficult.
Brynjolf paced the room, and waved his hand in the air.
“Yes, but I am just now learning about this. This power. It’s … exceptional. Think of the things we can do with it. And you are going to give it up?”
“If you’ll sit down and relax, I’ll try to explain.”
“What are you thinking? Are you completely insane?”
Andante was still smiling, but the smile was fading. So this is how it’s going to be? Very well, then. So be it.
Andante dropped every pretense he had ever cultivated. He dropped the playful tones he used around the Cistern, the slightly self-deprecating humor he was accustomed to employing. He dropped the soothing tones of a lover speaking to his partner. When he spoke it was the raw, unvarnished sound of an angry Nightlord vampire, a sound that he knew could be one of the most intimidating sounds in the world.
“Sit DOWN, Brynjolf. NOW.”
Brynjolf stopped in mid-stride to stare at him in astonishment.
Brynjolf is used to being obeyed. He is used to being above me. He needs to understand our relative positions. I thought he did, already, but it is obviously time to reinforce the lesson.
Brynjolf stared at him for a moment longer, silent, and then inclined his head. He returned to the chair and sat, looking up at Andante.
“Brynjolf. When we are in the Cistern, you are in charge. I respect that, and always have. You know that to be true. It is the same when I am in the Sanctuary; the Listener is in charge, and I respect that. You and I are also … close. And that has been highly satisfactory thus far. I think you know that to be true as well.”
Brynjolf nodded, slowly.
“But let there be no confusion. I could rip you in half where you sit before you had a chance to bare those pretty new fangs of yours. I could pick you up, flip you over, and snap your spine just as easily as I can squash an insect. I was an excellent assassin in the months after I woke up but before I became a vampire, and I am a better one now. I have no qualms whatsoever about using those skills, whether it is for money or not. There are very few things in this world that can best me. Some, to be sure, but very few. And I do very little that is not of direct benefit to myself. I work for the Guild and I obey you because I want to, Brynjolf, not because I have to.”
He smiled again, but he was fairly certain it wasn’t a pleasant smile.
“Is all of that reasonably clear to you?”
Brynjolf nodded. Andante couldn’t quite make out what was going on behind his eyes. At least he didn’t appear to be angry.
“Yes, it is.”
Andante nodded and sat down again. I sure didn’t want to do that, but it had to happen.
Then he sat on the footstool near Brynjolf’s chair and started describing all the things Babette had told him: the Volkihar vampires, the Dawnguard and the fact that they were probably heading for those vampires in the castle in the Sea of Ghosts first and would then keep trying to exterminate every other vampire in the world as well. He was trying to explain how he needed to be human to infiltrate that group, to see what they knew, when Brynjolf interrupted him.
“And why is it up to you in particular to save all of the rest of us? Why can’t those vampires deal with the threat themselves?”
Us. He’s already thinking of himself as one of us, strange and disconnected people that we are.
And why is it up to me, anyway? It’s a good question. I want the castle, but I can’t take it by myself. I want to be here to enjoy it, and I won’t be if I try that. But surely someone else could deal with the Dawnguard. Couldn’t they?
“For one thing, I don’t especially want to die. I’m assuming you don’t, either. Aside from that… I’m not entirely sure. I’m not doing this for strictly altruistic reasons, though. We’ve already established that I am a greedy bastard, yes?”
He grinned. To his great relief, Brynjolf chuckled and nodded.
“One of those reasons is to get inside that castle, to see what it’s like in there. I’ve wanted that ever since I first saw it.” And I want the castle for myself, but we don’t need to get into that right now. “Another is to meet the Lord of that castle, Harkon. That is someone who can best me, Bryn, no question at all. But I suspect that if I play things very carefully I could get him to turn me again. I could come away from the experience stronger than I am now, and then think of what we could accomplish.”
Brynjolf’s eyes began to twinkle.
“That is an interesting proposition, lad.”
“If I need to, in a hurry, you can turn me again. Or Babette can. Or someone else, if I can convince them not to kill me in the process. I’m not about to leave you behind, Brynjolf.” I waited too long for you; I’m not giving you up now. “But if what Babette told me is true, I am liking our chances less by the day, and it may well be that I’m the only one who can do what is necessary to reverse that.”
He smiled, a genuine smile this time.
“Just as there aren’t any others who can do what you can do. I want you to show me, some day. I’ve felt you pushing me from time to time, and I’m not talking about a few nights ago, either. You do realize, I hope, that between the two of us we are well nigh unstoppable.”
Brynjolf paused a moment and gave him a serious look before answering.
“I learned many years ago never to assume that kind of thing,” Brynjolf said quietly. “Things can change in a moment. And it’s going to be very dangerous while you’re a human again, lad.” Then he smirked, his eyes twinkling. “But I will admit that after that, it sounds very good.”
Andante stood and pulled Brynjolf up to him.
What a relief to have that over with. This is going to be hard enough as it is without having him angry with me. I really don’t want that. I’ve only just gotten through to him.
“I’m sorry I was cross. I needed to get your attention. Let me make it up to you?”
Brynjolf grinned.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Oh… I think you can figure it out.”
Brynjolf reached for the front of Andante’s armor and started working the clasps open.
“Yes, I think I can.”