Chapter Text
Shathann had not expected visitors. She had definitely not expected the two pointy-eared twins, her child, and someone she’d not met before, a golden-skinned redhead who looked like a hornless Qunari… but wasn’t.
“Uh. Hey. Mother,” Taash said awkwardly. “We, ah… we brought books. On… things.”
“Books,” the twin in the robes and horned helmet made from a dragon skull said determinedly, taking the bags off Taash and their golden friend and stacking them on Shathann’s dining room table without bothering to wait to be invited in. “You said you were a scholar so we brought reading material. On non-binary stuff! This is the Being Neither series, helped me when I came out, although it doesn’t have to involve Mephala worship, it just works for the plot. And there’s a few others, this is an anthology of writings by non-binary people, and this is one on figuring out your gender, and…”
“I have no need of figuring out my gender,” Shathann snapped. “Or yours for that matter.”
Flinch from Taash, and Shathann felt it too, a feeling that something between them was sundered and it wasn’t right, wasn’t right at all to feel this way about someone she’d given birth to and raised… but damned if she knew what to do about it.
But there were books. Shathann had not known there were books.
“There are… writings on this? Non-binaryness?”
“Yeah,” Taash said gruffly. “I mean, I didn’t know but Stel went looking and found a bunch of things. And we got some other stuff too. On relationships between Qunari and Tamrielic mer.”
The Tamrielic mer in the party stepped forward, opening her own sack of papers.
“Shanedan, Shathann. My name’s Ancalime, Cali for short. I’m an Altmer from Tamriel, but I’ve been living in New Alinor since the war. Where my sister Liriel is the High Keeper, and a major researcher into those links, what with her husband being a former Qunari and all. Uncle Bull helped out with the research. The genetic work is undeniable. The linguistic work is more ongoing but there’s some similarities to some fringe dialects of Aldmeris, and there’s some cults from way back that had a similar philosophy to the Qun. They don’t exist any more, and a lot of the relevant research materials were destroyed in the war, but Firsthold, Lillandril and Cloudrest’s archives mostly survived and they seem to be similar. It’s in Trade, at least these are. All the relevant papers that Liriel could get for me anyway. She didn’t write all of them.”
“You… brought all this?” Shathann gasped. “For me? Why? I have hardly been the most civil to you.”
“No,” Lia said, folding her arms. “And you’re dead wrong about me and Taash. So we’re going to ignore that. But you also don’t know about Mer-Qunari links in Tamriel. Or non-binaryness in general. So maybe you can study and at least know something about that.”
“I… thank you,” Shathann said, remembering that Lia was the one who’d first noticed Dovahzul on the tablet and thinking perhaps she’d misjudged the girl. “You did not need to do all this. But I am glad you did. Perhaps you are not quite as emotionally sloppy as you seem. Even if you are encouraging my child to embrace every culture but her… their… own.”
Shathann still did not understand anything about Taash’s decisions lately… but the pronoun request she could honour at least. And to her surprise, Taash’s mood picked up immediately. Not exactly smiling… but markedly less hostile.
“I’m from Rivain as well,” Taash said. “I grew up here. That was your idea! I spent loads of time hanging out with Rivaini mercenaries and pirates, and the Lords come from all over. Doesn’t mean I don’t care about the Qunari… but I’m not one.”
“Also they sew mage’s mouths shut,” Lia added pointedly. “I am not having that.”
For their own good, Shathann thought but did not say. There were not many mages in the Lords of Fortune but the ones that did join up did tend to frequently perish in spectacular ways. Still. Maybe Lia and Stel were a bit more cautious. Perhaps the Lords of Fortune were not a representative sample and got the more adventurous and risk-taking ones. Perhaps… perhaps her research concerns were more important anyway.
“I suppose not,” Shathann said, looking at what Lia had brought with her, which looked like a big box of tools, a lot of wiring and some metal contraption with a dish on it. “May I ask what you brought with you.”
“Siara-bell tower kit,” Lia said proudly. “So you can talk to fellow scholars! We brought a handset too. Big buttons, big keyboard, big screen, full manual in Trade, set to Trade as the default. And! I have put in the numbers of Miraak in Minrathous, Liriel in Mythallon and also The Iron Bull. For your scholarly contacts. Iron Bull is not much of a scholar, but if you want to complain about humans or talk about matters Qun-related, he’s your guy.”
“He can also assist with parenting sympathies,” Cali added. “Such as how to cope when your partner just presents you with a baby, and nothing the tamassrans taught you is any help whatsoever, because they were training you for spy and military work, not parenting. Although he does say the negotiation skills training is useful on a daily basis.”
“I… will consider it – wait, what are those. What are you doing.”
Lia was already unpacking the toolbox.
“Got to install it all first. Have you got a ladder? Otherwise I guess I’m just landing on the roof and getting Taash to throw things to me.”
Shathann revised her opinion on Lia yet again, something was clearly wrong with this girl. But Taash was fetching a ladder, and Lia was climbing on to the roof, and soon the air rang with the sound of power tools and hammering and drilling, with Taash seeming very excited by the tools, and soon there was wiring being fed in through a hole in the wall and attached to a glowing box screwed to the wall.
Shathann was not going to get over this in a hurry, but eventually the thing was set up, and Lia was walking her through it, and managed to make calls, including one to Miraak, who turned out to be extremely charming (a bit too charming) but delighted to hear from her about matters Dovahzul, and then to Liriel and Iron Bull in Mythallon, one of whom was quite happy to explain parts of her research, while Iron Bull was very pleased indeed to hear from a fellow Qunari.
It was more meaningful social contact than Shathann had had in years. Amalia Di Rosso was of course still a menace. But said menace had set up this entire thing so Shathann could make some new friends and further her research.
Perhaps there were benefits to Taash’s… involvement. Perhaps Shathann could reserve judgement, for now at least. In the meantime, she had books to read.
~~~~~~~
After a day spent doing DIY for a mother-in-law who could stand to be a bit more grateful in Lia’s opinion (even if Taash had assured her that was gratitude by Shathann standards) (at least they’d not had to carry all the stuff back), Lia had not expected to find her father and great-uncle chatting in the kitchen. But there they both were, Uncle clearly having just arrived and making himself at home, helping himself to the brandy while Cicero sat there looking ever so slightly pained and Lucanis was hovering nervously nearby.
“Lia! Hello!” Cicero the Elder cooed, leaping out of his chair. “Just the person! And is this the famous Taash I’ve been hearing so much about? It’s lovely to meet you!”
“Hey, you’re the Black Rose?” Taash gasped. “I’ve heard so much about you, sir.”
“Oh, you don’t need to call me sir,” Cicero Senior chuckled as he took their hand and kissed it before beckoning them all to sit down. “Cicerito here was just introducing me properly to Lucanis. Why he’s not done so before is a mystery, nephew.”
“Yes, it’s not like there’s a world-ending crisis that we’ve all been very busy with,” Cicero said, forced smile on his face. “Cicero thought the introductions could wait until later.”
“Hearts, I know that’s you,” Cicero Senior said instantly, and the laughter demon scowled as he slinked out of Cicero, sitting cross-legged in the air and sulking, while Cicero pouted at his uncle.
“Must you disapprove of all my friends, Uncle,” Cicero said pointedly and Cicero Senior just tutted at him.
“I do not disapprove of Hearts, I’d just prefer to talk to him direct,” Cicero Senior said. “As it is, I happen to approve of young Lucanis. And Spite of course. I am rather fond of Spite.”
Spite had been skulking around the room, but as Cicero Senior’s eyes turned to where the demon was prowling, Spite slipped into an actual chair, actually looking contrite.
“Hello Uncle,” Spite said quietly. Apparently Spite knew to behave around the Black Rose.
“Hey, you can see him?” Taash asked, impressed. Cicero Senior nodded.
“I have, let us say, an affinity with spirits,” he said delicately. “Oh, but never mind all that! I did not come here to socialise. Cicerito, I am in need of assistance. Or support at least. You know it turns out I have – had – a son and never got to meet him?”
Smile fading on Cicero Senior’s face, little emotional hitch in his voice. Lia felt for him, she really did. His son dead, and all that remained was Illario. Lia did not envy him.
“I know,” Cicero said, his own voice softening. “What did you want to talk about, Uncle. Did you want to ask Lucanis about his uncle. They cremated the body. I don’t think corpse-whispering works on ashes or I’d get Emmrich involved.”
“No, no,” Cicero Senior said, looking vaguely appalled. “Let the poor man rest. No, I have other ideas. Fabio Dellamorte had a villa. On the edge of town, far away from Treviso itself, Illario owns it but he’s not really been there of late. It was my son’s once. He built that villa, or restored it. He certainly had all the magical security put in. And the speed gondola, that was his once. Difficult to control for most, but it seems to respond quite well to Lia and myself. I have my suspicions about that. I have a lot of suspicions about my son. But mostly I just want to get to know his memory and I can do that best in the villa he built, that Illario invites few people to. I believe it’s got his things there. Portraits. Possessions. Things I can look at and find out who he was. But I don’t want to do it alone. I think the security system is linked to blood relatives only. So… I need la familia Di Rosso with me. And Senor Lucanis of course.”
“You want us to come and help you break in to Illario’s villa,” Lia said, rubbing her forehead. “Because it’s got mementoes of your son in it?”
“Yes!” Cicero Senior said hopefully. “Could you please? You and Stel and Lucanis and… we need a blood mage in case Illario turns up.”
“Nana,” Lia said thoughtfully. “Nana might want to be involved. And… I’ll ask Maia too. She’s not a blood mage, but she’s Dragonborn and a better mage than Illario. And she might be interested.”
“I’m coming too,” Cicero announced, and Lucanis immediately protested at that.
“You don’t know what will be in that villa! It could be full of Venatori for all we know!”
“No,” Cicero Senior said, shaking his head. “It’s Illario’s safe place. Villa Dellamorte is crawling with Venatori, but the other villa? He’ll have kept that private.”
“I will go with you,” Lucanis said, nodding. “Maybe it is empty, but you don’t know he hasn’t hired guards.”
“He has not, and he sends the staff home at night,” Cicero Senior said, smiling thinly. “I have scouted the area. He’s relying on his father’s wards… but those can be breached by blood-kin. I could do it… but I didn’t want to go alone. Fabio was your kin too. You deserve a chance to learn about him.”
Lia agreed with that and was curious, and when she told Maia, Maia thought it might be useful to get a look at Illario’s psyche, and agreed to go. Mirela also agreed, not liking the idea of some blood mage being able to affect her great-grandbabies.
And so it was the little group piled on to the speed gondola, the seven of them only just fitting in it as it trundled through the canals, not nearly as fast as normal until it reached the open sea and Cicero Senior steered it for a headland to the south.
There was indeed a villa, floodlights switching on as the sun went down, lighting it up, a beautiful sight in the twilight, and the gondola seemed to know where to go, magic seizing it and drawing it nearer, to a cave at the bottom of the cliff, in which was located a dock where the gondola automatically parked itself.
Lucanis was first out, taking the rope and mooring the craft before helping Cicero out, then Cicero Senior, then the twins and Maia, and Mirela bringing up the rear.
“I remember this,” Lucanis whispered. “I’ve been here! Not often, but I remember Uncle Fabio picking us up in the gondola and bringing us here. I remember my father scowling at him constantly. I think he thought Uncle was a bit of a show-off.”
Both Ciceros smiled at each other, Cicero the Younger grinning at his uncle, who was looking a bit tearful but happy.
“I wonder where he got that from,” Cicero said fondly. “All right, Luca, how do we get in. Are there… oh Sithis, how many stairs are there.”
“No, there was a floating platform, the doors are round here,” Lucanis said, looking around. “Ah. There. We just need to… mierda. Illario’s sealed the door somehow.”
“Let me see,” Cicero Senior said, coming to peer at it. “Ah yes, there’s a rune here, it looks like it can detect who you are…”
He pressed the button, and a voice rang out.
“Father of Fabio detected. Ricardo Dellamorte, welcome.”
The doors opened, revealing the platform, even as Cicero Senior hung his head, grieved to hear that.
“It knew I’m his father but not who I was,” he said as they all crowded into the platform, clinging on to each other as it rose up to the clifftops.
“Well, you are his father, but he didn’t know it wasn’t Ricardo,” Lia said, patting her great-uncle’s arm. “I suppose he wasn’t estranged from his family. He was all right with them coming over. And Illario’s not a mage so maybe he didn’t know it was there or couldn’t take it off.”
“Illario’s not a mage…” Lucanis breathed. “But nor was Fabio, was he? Mierda, how much did he pay the Circle for this?”
Silence in the lift as everyone recalled both Ciceros could do magical things and that one of them had got done for apostate magic by the Chantry.
“We sure he didn’t inherit Uncle’s magic?” Maia said, realising that if Cicero Senior had magic, his son might have too.
“He seems very comfortable having it in his house,” Stel added. “There are a lot of fancy enchantments here.”
There were, weren’t they. Did Illario know his father might have been an apostate mage, or had Fabio kept that even from his own family. Maia was willing to bet Caterina knew. Someone got him trained, kept him out of the Circle. Who better than his formidable mother who must have known where the magic came from.
The platform finally arrived into the middle of a gazebo out in the gardens, and Maia was treated to the smell of jasmine everywhere, the white flowers seeming to glow in the dusk… and as they walked to the villa, little magelights lit the way for them, seeming to guess there were people here.
“Mierda,” Lucanis whispered. “I remember playing with the lights, getting them to turn on and off. I had no idea… Auntie Carlotta told me to stop, but Fabio just smiled and said he was glad I was having fun. He really put all this in himself?”
Apparently. Someone had been building this villa to last. Maia wondered if Illario ever spent much time here. But it seemed Uncle had been right about this place being Fabio’s memorial. The man had clearly worked hard on this.
Inside, and it seemed a lot less austere than a lot of the fine Antivan rooms Maia had seen in Treviso. Smaller rooms. Furniture taking up far more of the space. Calming green walls. And portraits, there were portraits, and Maia recognised Caterina in one, much younger and with a man who looked like Lucanis.
“Caterina and Ricardo,” Cicero Senior said, thin smile on his face. “Fabio with a picture of his parents in the breakfast room. Or who he thought his parents were.”
Cicero patted his uncle’s back and they moved on. There were more of them around too, portraits of various Dellamortes including one of Lucanis’s parents and brother and toddler Lucanis, which made Lucanis go pink and everyone else coo over how cute he looked. Also a few De Rivas – Carlotta’s family, and apparently Viago De Riva was a cousin to Illario on his mother’s side, although they weren’t particularly close. Illario had barely seen any De Rivas after his mother died.
And then they found the main dining room, and that had what they were after, automated lights sensing they were there and highlighting the portrait over the mantel of Fabio and Carlotta, with Illario as a boy, and a baby in Carlotta’s arms.
“That’s Illario,” Maia realised, seeing a happy and smiling boy standing next to his proud father and realising that Illario hadn’t always been a smooth-talking Antivan Crow seducer with ambitions and a vengeful streak. He’d been a little boy with parents who loved him once. And then they’d died.
Maia couldn’t imagine what her life might have been like if she’d lost a parent, or gods forbid all of them. Bad enough when her father had been dying, or her mother disappeared.
She couldn’t imagine them being murdered and then having to go and live with Caterina, who was not the maternal type to put it mildly, and she began to feel sorry for Illario. Which was a terrible idea but… there it was.
“There’s a baby??” Stel was asking, incredulous. “Illario has a sibling??”
“Had,” Lucanis said, voice heavy. “Her name was Rosa. She was barely six months old when House Velardo killed her and her mother.”
That was sad. More than sad, that was awful. Maia thought of her younger siblings – Duncan, Fiona, Caradach. She couldn’t imagine losing them. All of them a good few years younger than her, all kids still despite Duncan’s bravado. Poor Illario. He really had lost everything.
She shouldn’t feel sorry for him. But she did.
But Uncle had seen what he came for. He’d seen his son’s face, and was staring at the portrait, tears rolling down his face as he saw his son’s face and knew it for his own.
Dark hair on Fabio aside, the resemblance was startling, and Cicero was seeing it too, arms round his uncle, comforting him and whispering to him that yes he was very handsome, yes he looked like you. And then the twins got in on the act for a group hug, and Lucanis stepped back to stand with Maia and Mirela.
“I didn’t realise the resemblance until I saw that portrait,” Lucanis whispered. “I must have been eight when he died? I don’t remember his face that clearly, but that’s him. That’s my uncle. And he looks like Cicero. Both of them.”
Both Ciceros were still cuddling, Cicero gently patting his uncle and at length they both turned to the other three.
“Thank you for indulging an old man,” Cicero Senior said, wiping a tear away. “I needed to see this. I am tempted to take the painting, but knowing this place, it will probably trigger the defences and seal us in, turning the whole adventure into a bracing escape room challenge. So we will not chance it.”
“But we can still have a look round, right?” Lia asked. “I mean, Uncle Fabio clearly had money, let’s explore!”
“Let’s go through his things and look at his stuff!” Stel said, already making for a bookshelf they’d seen earlier.
They really should be getting out but the twins were determined, and Lucanis wanted to see if his memories were accurate, and while most of the villa was nice to look at but not that interesting, Stel did find two baby books for Illario and his lost sister Rosa. With hair clippings, sketches, little diary entries involving milestones, all the way up to Illario turning five and six month’s worth for poor Rosa.
The writing was a little obsessive, one of the two sets of handwriting more excitable than the other, which was a bit more measured but the two writers had this in common – they adored their children. Plenty of comments on Illario being a charming young man going to have people wrapped round his little finger, of being a happy little boy, liking his father’s music and being sung to, even singing for his parents.
“Illario’s got musical talent,” Cicero Senior breathed, hand tracing the musical notes on the page headers. “Fabio was a musician?? Look, the notes, I recognise… oh Talos, it’s one of mine.”
More tears now, and Stel quietly put the books to one side, and then Lucanis remembered there was a music room with a piano. He remembered Fabio playing it, and the lute as well, and entertaining gatherings. And getting teased by Illario for lurking shyly in the corner.
“I never knew what to do with myself,” Lucanis admitted. “I did enjoy the music though! Uncle Fabio was talented, only one in the family with any musical talent. He kept his sheet music in the music room, let’s see if it’s still there!”
It was, and Cicero Senior came over all emotional all over again on realising his entire back catalogue seemed to be here.
“He liked my work!” Cicero Senior sobbed, needing comforting from Cicero again. It fell to Maia to look at some of the other folders of music there. She wasn’t brilliant at reading music but she could sort of do it.
“I’ve never heard of this one,” Maia said, frowning at it, lyrics in Trade and Antivan, same handwriting as in Illario’s baby book. “You Raise Me Up?”
Cicero Senior stopped his crying and came over to have a look, squealed, skipped over to the piano and started playing it, singing the Trade lyrics, somehow managing to keep his voice steady despite the tears in his eyes, and as he hit the chorus, Lia took up the tune, then Stel, then Mirela glanced over the lyrics and joined in too, and Maia joined them, and magelights got cast at the climax, and at the end, group hug all round, tears on more faces than Uncle Cicero’s.
“I remember that one,” Lucanis said, arm round Cicero as he wiped a tear away. “I never heard it played anywhere since, no bard I could find ever knew it!”
“Because he wrote his own songs,” Cicero Senior said, wiping a tear away. “My boy had talent. And I’ll never be able to tell him how proud I am!”
More crying. More cuddling, and Maia quietly put the sheet music away, before noticing there were two folders looking… newer. Different handwriting. But what shocked her most was seeing lyrics in Tamrielic.
Tamrielic?? There were songs here in Tamrielic, lots of them, paper a lot less faded, recent, clearly dating to after the Rialto Accord, and a few more recent Black Rose numbers and Tamrielic popular favourites aside, many of them were new to her.
“Dig if you will the picture, of you and I engaged in a kiss,” Maia started to sing to herself, blushing as she realised these were some very sensuous lyrics… but they were cleverly written, the tune was a good one, and before long the twins were leaning over her shoulder, hearing her singing to herself and picking the tune up themselves.
“Maybe I’m like my grandmother, she’s never satisfied,” Lia sang, before giggling at the lyrics. “Oh, he’s throwing shade at Caterina!”
“Have you even met her?” Maia wanted to know, and Lia just smiled.
“I have heard enough. Also enough to know Illario could songwrite too! This is really good! Uncle! Uncle! Illario writes songs too! Have a look!”
“Illario writes songs??” Lucanis whispered, clearly knowing nothing of this. “He’s never played any of these! I know he can play the lute but… Caterina does not like music in the house. Ah mierda.”
Understanding dawned, and Lucanis placed a hand over his eyes, reconsidering everything.
“I did not know any of this. My cousin is keeping this close to his chest. He never plays these! Ever! But what you were singing… I liked it.”
Piano introduction of a song began rippling out as Cicero Senior had picked up a song sheet and started playing, and Maia closed her eyes and listened to him singing, the first line of never wanting to cause you any sorrow sounding so unlike Illario Dellamorte she had to stop and remind herself he’d actually written this.
But it was a beautiful song, and the others were good too, and the whole expedition descended into something of a singsong of three generations of Di Rosso-Dellamorte songwriters’ work… until Lia and Stel were midway through Mr Brightside, Lia just getting into the chorus, Maia giving it all with the dancing, when Mirela stopped clapping, shock on her face.
“Shit. Maia! There’s someone here.”
Purple glow in Lucanis’s eyes and Cicero’s going full black as their respective spirits sounded the alarm, and everyone reached for their weapons… right as Illario appeared in the door.
“Oh no, don’t stop on my account, you were getting the harmonies just so,” Illario said sarcastically. “Cousin. What the fuck is this. Why have you rounded up your Veilguard friends, broken into my house and gone through my things and for what?? The music? The baby books you left out downstairs? Were you feeling nostalgic or something, cousin? Out of respect for my father’s memory, I will not kill any of you but get out of my house!”
“Illario!” Lucanis gasped. “Illario, it wasn’t like that, I swear!”
And to their credit, both twins had slipped off the piano and glided forward, previous enmity put aside for now as they both recalled they were definitely in the wrong on this occasion and true to form, had put on their best placating faces.
“We like your music!” Lia enthused.
“It’s really good!” Stel added. “It’d be popular in the Reach! I like that one about the man who would kill for love!”
“It’s called Begin Again,” Illario said tersely. “As you’d know if you’d bothered to look at the title – never mind the music. WHY are you in my house, going through my stuff?? And stop looking at me like that.”
Both twins were looking very Di Rosso, doe-eyed innocent placating look and had they but known it, they were reminding Illario of his father. It was not having the effect they hoped for.
Maia fell in alongside them, feeling a bit guilty herself.
“We’re sorry. We didn’t… Uncle just wanted to see a picture of his son, and this place seemed deserted.”
Illario patted the bird badge on his outfit, grim smile on his face.
“Magic is a lovely thing, no? I set this up to notify me if this place’s defences were breached. I left Treviso as soon as it went off. How the fuck did you get in here anyway. The rune said it was last opened by Ricardo Dellamorte Senior who has been dead for fucking years.”
“Ah,” Cicero Senior said, getting to his feet and approaching, charming smile on his face and you would never know he’d been in tears earlier. “That would be me. A little loophole in the security. Fabio added something in to identify his parents and allow them in… alas for him not knowing the right name to put in. Hello, Grandson. The twins were not lying. You have genuine talent! As did your father. Please forgive an old man’s curiosity. I just wanted to see my son’s face!”
Sniffling on that last sentence as the elder Cicero’s composure broke, and Illario growled, rubbing his forehead.
“You could have gone to Villa Dellamorte, there’s a dozen portraits there with him in them, I am told you know your way round the place,” Illario said bitterly. Cicero Senior chuckled.
“Oh, I absolutely do, but when I crept in, I found the most curious thing. It was full of Venatori! Obviously I could have killed them, but I did not want to get blood all over the villa’s nice marble floors. Grandson. Why have you filled the villa with Venatori. I cannot believe you didn’t know about it. If you did not want them there, you would have sent word to Lucanis to come and help you clear them out.”
Illario was flushing pink, hard to tell on his tan skin, but the colour had changed, and his breath had sped up.
“I do what I must,” Illario said softly. “No one else was listening. Everyone else overlooked me. Zara was the one telling me I was special, destined for great things. Now she’s dead. But I will use what she left me. If you had any sense… you’d get out of my way. Rook. You’re better than this lot. You’d make a good Venatori, you know.”
Maia wondered why on Nirn she’d felt sorry for him earlier. He did not deserve it.
“I’d make a terrible Venatori,” Maia said, switching to Tamrielic, and Illario gasped. Apparently he’d not worked out she was a Nord.
“You’re not…? Ah mierda. You’re not Fereldan, are you,” Illario sighed, switching to Tamrielic himself and that was quite the shock, hearing him speak her native language. Fluently. Antivan accent but fluent.
“You’re a Nord,” Illario was continuing, sounding actually disappointed. “How the fuck did you learn Trade that well, most of them can barely string a sentence together in Tamrielic.”
Stifled laugh from Mirela, and the twins were nodding along, clearly amused.
“See, we said you’d do well in Markarth,” Lia said proudly.
“That would be the year I spent in Ferelden and Orlais aged five, painstakingly learning the language, and practising with my Fereldan stepfather,” Maia said, deciding not to elaborate. He’d figure it out or he wouldn’t. “Out of respect for the Ciceros, I won’t kill you tonight. But don’t you ever compare me to the Venatori again. I am never joining them.”
“That’s a pity,” Illario sighed, looking genuinely disappointed. “Well, if you won’t change sides, can you at least leave my villa alone. This is a sanctuary for me.”
Little meeping noise from Cicero on hearing that part, guilt finally appearing on his face, and then he sat up, suddenly alert, Detect Life silent in his hand.
“We’re not alone,” Cicero growled, and Illario spun round to see a group of Thalmor behind him.
“Lorcanil? I didn’t tell you to follow?”
“Well, we could hardly leave the next First Talon to his own devices,” Lorcanil said, smiling and showing far too many teeth. “Lady Elenwen protects her assets.”
Maia grimaced at the mention of Elenwen’s name, and now that she thought of it, these looked familiar. Had they worked at the Thalmor Embassy in Solitude once?
Lorcanil’s eyes swept the room, widening at the sight of Maia, flinching at a grinning Cicero, then falling on the Black Rose.
“You. The thieving little wretch who started the war.”
“Oh hardly, I just stole a bunch of Orlesian masterpieces,” Cicero Senior chuckled. “You were the ones who looted Cyrodiil and sent her valuables back to Alinor and showed the stolen loot to the original owners. I would have loved to have seen the Orlesian Ambassador’s face as you showed all those lost Orlesian masters off.”
Lorcanil growled, clearly bothered, while Illario was actually looking surprised.
“That was true? I honestly thought they were making that up. No way a major global war started because of lost artwork in the wrong place.”
“Well, it wasn’t the only reason, it had been brewing for years, but that’s the funny version,” Cicero Senior said, still smiling fondly, and someone was absolutely not contrite about this at all.
“Never mind that,” Lorcanil snapped. “To have the Black Rose, Heirs of the Reach and Princess Maia in our clutches? Elenwen will reward us greatly for bringing her your heads.”
Illario’s head whipped round to Maia, incredulous look on his face. Had he really not known?
“Seriously,” Illario said, staring at her. “Princess Maia?? Leading the Veilguard?”
“My parents want the Venatori, the risen gods and the Thalmor wiped out, and I am taking the fight to the Empire’s enemies,” Maia snapped. “As I always will. Take a different path or join them, Illario.”
Some strange expression on Illario’s face, as if part of him was actually considering it.
“Lorcanil,” Illario was saying. “Lorcanil, we’re not doing this in my family home. Come on, they’re about to leave. We can let them go, no?”
The charming smile might have worked with anyone else. Alas, Thalmor High Elves were not as a rule susceptible to human charms. Lorcanil lifted a hand and cast a paralysis spell on Illario, and Cicero Senior rushed to catch him as he fell to the ground.
“Lady Elenwen wants the puppet ruler of the Crows kept alive but the rest of you? The rest of you are better off dead. Kill them! All of them! And keep the princess’s head to send to her mother.”
Maia drew her sword, casting mage armour, and Cicero Black Rose was drawing knives, and Lucanis was trained precisely for killing mages. And then there was the vampire lurking in the corner, axe in one hand, blood magic in the other.
It was not a pretty fight. It was a very chaotic one in the close quarters of a music room… but Lorcanil had not brought enough Thalmor with him, and nearly everyone in the party had magic at their disposal. Particularly when Mirela took her vampire lord form and sent them all staggering with blood magic, and then it was a matter of taking advantage. Lucanis didn’t hesitate and nor did the twins, and Maia had no mercy for members of the Thalmor.
All over, and then it was just turning to where Illario was sitting up, paralysis spell having worn off, and seeing a lot of dead Thalmor, a lot of weapons and spells pointed in his direction, and things suddenly not going in his favour.
“Ah. Cousins. We can, ah, talk about this. No?”
“Did you bring them here to kill us?” Maia demanded, and Illario actually looked hurt.
“No? I didn’t even know you were here! I just knew there were intruders and left in a hurry to deal with the problem. I thought I’d given my guards the slip. Mierda.”
“Given them the slip?” Cicero asked, tilting his head as he came to look at Illario. “Who is actually in charge here, cousin?”
“Not me, apparently,” Illario said bitterly. “Puppet ruler of the Talons? Thalmor bastards.”
“I could have told you this, Illario,” Maia sighed. “Anyone could!”
“There was this whole book came out a few years back in which the Thalmor were definitely evil,” Lia added. “Don’t know if you read it? Called Rise of the Dragonborn.”
“I read the bloody book!” Illario snapped, before hanging his head. “Mierda. I just wanted to get Caterina out of my hair and get a bit of respect. But no. Elenwen just wanted a puppet ruler all along. Zara, I had eating out of the palm of my hand. But Elenwen? Elenwen? That one has no emotions other than sadism and always detested me. Of course she’s the one to take over. Fuck.”
Maia glanced at the others to see how they were taking this, and didn’t see a lot of sympathy… but most of them were mostly looking exasperated. And then the Black Rose stepped forward, shaking his head at his grandson.
“Illario. You don’t need the Venatori for that. Honestly, I blame myself. For never being there for your father… or for you. But I won’t leave my grandson in need. Switch sides. Leave the Crows. Leave the Venatori. I can get you asylum in Cyrodiil. Share what you know on the Venatori, and tell me where Caterina is. And in return, I will apply for citizenship of the Empire for you, talk to my contacts, get you an agent and… we did not lie about the talent. My son’s songs, yours… I want them heard. I will get them heard, if you work with me. The world will hear them and love you for it. And I will make sure Caterina never bothers you again. Just tell me where she is.”
Cicero Senior’s voice broke a little on the last sentence, and Illario lowered his eyes, shaking his head.
“There has got to be a catch,” Illario said softly. “You’d never offer all that for so little.”
“You’re my grandson,” Cicero Senior sighed, and the younger Cicero had joined him, looking hopefully at Illario. “Why wouldn’t I offer that to you.”
Bitter laughter from Illario.
“Forgive me. I am unused to grandparents actually offering me something I might want.”
Magic on the air, and Maia glanced over at Lucanis to see how he was reacting. Oddly. Eyes closed, shaking his head as if resisting something. Concerning. But she couldn’t worry about him with Illario there and still an unknown.
She turned back to him and realised he was watching her carefully, rather calculating expression on his face.
“It’s not enough,” Illario said, eyes not leaving Maia despite addressing his grandfather. “What you’re asking. I don’t want asylum. I want a chance to prove myself. I want to join the Veilguard.”
What. Hold on. What the fuck.
“Why do you want to join the Veilguard?” Maia asked, surprised. “You were allied with our enemies and betrayed Lucanis to them!”
“Perhaps I fell under the spell of a dangerous maleficar who led me astray,” Illario said, pouty expression on his face. “Perhaps I have been a bad boy and require the guiding hand of a better person to lead me back to the path of wisdom, hmm?”
Maia was definitely blushing, because that? That was flirting. Dibella’s sake, did he have no shame??
“I am seeing someone,” Maia snapped, right as the twins were engaging in a Khajiit chorus of ‘goatshit!’ and ‘knock it off!’ with Stel floating the illusion of three pork pies circling round Illario’s head.
Illario ignored the twins, huffing and scowling.
“Of course you are. I bet he is a good man too, hmm? Kind? Caring? Treats you well? Faithful?”
Maia nodded, suddenly not wanting him anywhere near Davrin.
“Of course he is. Revolting,” Illario muttered, and that said so much about him, it really did.
“Do not believe him about Zara either, she called him Amatus, she liked him too,” Lia added, glaring at her pouting cousin. “Or maybe she was the one with feelings and he was just using her.”
“He did stab her,” Stel added. “Papa, what do you think?”
“I think the pair of them are or were self-absorbed narcissists with a vain streak the size of Red Mountain, and it was mutual ambition and physical gratification and not a lot more,” Cicero said, grinning down at Illario. “Hello Illario. Have we been introduced? I’m Cicero. The Younger. Your grandfather here is my uncle. I think that makes us first cousins once removed. These two are my children. I’m not related to Maia, but her mother is a very good friend of mine.”
“Red Cicero,” Illario said, respect in his eyes. “It’s an honour. I… did not know we were related, but I see it. You do look like my father.”
Illario carefully picked himself up and shook Cicero’s hand, actually seeming impressed. And in the background, Lucanis grunted softly, and his eyes flared purple. Spite up to something?
Spite up to something and the fact he wasn’t doing the usual prowling was a problem. Meant he was in Lucanis. Potentially a worry.
“So, am I welcome on board?” Illario asked hopefully, still smiling charmingly at her. Way too charming.
“Why do you really want to join?” Maia asked, and Illario just pouted.
“Is your charming company not enough?” Illario said sadly. “But as you wish. I know an unbalanced deal when I see one. I sense a catch. I also sense I’m not exactly trusted. I will not tell you you are wrong. I would not trust me either. And you shouldn’t. So rather than some vague promise of asylum in Tamriel, allow me to earn it. Let me join your Veilguard. Fight alongside you. When we achieve victory, perhaps you will remember your friends, yes?”
Maia knew it. Intern Rook had been barely on his radar, but Princess Maia? Suddenly he was all over her. Davrin was going to love this.
“What do we all think?” Maia sighed, glancing at the others, and Mirela stepped forward, eyeing the bird badge that seemed to be the source of his magic, and then she concentrated, clenched her fist… and the badge exploded, causing Illario to cry out in pain.
“No stolen blood magic, bion,” Mirela snapped. “You want to learn magic, study like the rest of us.”
“Studying??” Illario cried, staring at the remains of his badge. “Ugh, that’s inhuman. Maia, who is this.”
“My grandmother,” Maia informed him. “Her name’s Mirela. She’s an actual mage.”
Illario nodded warily at Mirela, still annoyed but lacking standing to do anything about it. Turning to his grandfather, he seemed to come to a decision.
“You’ll find Caterina in Villa Dellamorte. Along with a load of Venatori. You can handle those, no? As for the Venatori… Elenwen’s in charge without Zara around. She’s a former Thalmor politician from Alinor and it sounds like you know more about her than I do. She keeps her plans close to her chest, but I know she’s planning something big in Arlathan. I know no more than that though. Ah, but you want something more immediately useful, yes? There’s a Venatori in Minrathous called Aelia. She’s a blood mage, working on experiments involving puppeteering unwitting thralls. I may have information on her plans… which I will happily share with my Veilguard colleagues.”
This was extremely likely to be a trap, wasn’t it. Dangle a Venatori leader in front of them, knowing they’d have to check it out… but Neve would know about Aelia, right? Or if there was something off with his info. Some of the Shadow Dragons might help as well.
“Fine,” Maia sighed, vaguely aware of a flicker of purple magic in her peripheral vision. “You’re coming to the Lighthouse with us. You can share your info on Aelia with Neve Gallus and she can assess it. It had better be good. If it’s not, and this turns out to be a trap...”
“It is good, I promise,” Illario said, starting to smile. “Is that a yes? I can join?”
“You’re on probation,” Maia said firmly. “We’ve got three cats, two griffins, the sentient animated skeleton, and Grandma Mirela’s three undead dogs, I hope you can cope with them- Lucanis?”
“NO!” Spite raged. “HE. KILLED. ZARA. DENIED US OUR KILL. And now. We’re. STUCK!”
Illario had his knives raised to defend himself as Spite launched himself at Illario, Lucanis apparently helpless to stop him. Cicero the Younger moved to grab Lucanis but wasn’t quick enough, and it looked like Illario might be done for… but Spite’s knives didn’t find Illario. No, they found Cicero the Elder instead, physically intervening to save his grandson and paying the price as Lucanis’s knives sank into him.
Spite inhaled and promptly vanished, leaving Lucanis staring in horror at Cicero the Elder as he sank to the floor, clutching his wounds, and Illario dropped to his side, patting his pockets for potions.
“No,” Illario gasped. “No, Lucanis, what have you done??”
“I didn’t mean to!” Lucanis cried. “I was trying to stop him! I… mierda.”
Lucanis let his knives fall to the floor, sinking to his knees and staring in despair as he closed his eyes… and then Maia saw Spite move again but not to stab this time. No, he was moving in on the younger Cicero, who was staggering over to his uncle’s side, desperate to help… until Spite grabbed him, glowing gold not purple.
“Cicero. We need you.”
Cicero’s face went blank as Spite seemed to drag him into Lucanis, which was all they needed… but Maia could do little about that. The elder Cicero needed her help, and Maia, healing magic at her fingers, went to give it.