A creak from the door has Ancano jump to his feet and spin around. Over the last hours, he has cast several spells trying to open that massive Dwemer metal door, but to no avail, eventually coming to consider that maybe Elenwen's orders might just have been to leave him here to die.
But now, somebody has come. The hooded figure of another Thalmor steps into the cell, and Ancano freezes. "You?"
Ondolemar looks at him, his face a mask that won't give away any hint of what he might be thinking, let alone feeling. "So this is how we meet again. I consider the circumstances as unpleasant as you do, Ancano. Be reasonable. There are guards outside, and if you try to do anything foolish, I'll have you shackled to that wall. Those are my orders."
Ancano swallows hard. "I assume I am in Markarth then." It has been a while since he and Ondolemar have last met. Back then, Ancano was simply Dayla's advisor, struggling not to lose her trust whilst staying loyal to the Thalmor. "What are Elenwen's intentions with me?"
The Justiciar shrugs. "I guess you're actually well aware. She's holding you in pledge so that the Dragonborn will obey. It seems you've Elenwen some reason to doubt your loyalty and effectiveness."
Ancano tenses and evades Ondolemar's gaze. "I asked to take my leave."
"How very foolish of you. Linking the Dragonborn to the Thalmor was your purpose all along, the only reason why Elenwen has spared you so far. You should have known defying her is always a bad idea, Ancano."
He is right, of course. But right now, that is of little interest to Ancano. "My question still stands: What is she up to? What does she want Dayla to do?"
"Use her skills and reputation to turn the tide in our favor. Strengthen the Thalmor in Skyrim. I bet she has several missions in mind for your Bosmer girl."
"Dayla is a rebel," Ancano says defiantly. "Nobody can make her do something she does not want. She will never bow to Elenwen." Nor to anybody else, he thinks.
"Rumor has it," Ondolemar replies, "that she will do pretty much anything to save your life."
Ancano shakes his head, remembering Dayla's amber gaze, lit up with sunbeams. He knows he is precious to her, but her freedom is, too. "I can't let that happen, Ondolemar. Being forced into serving the Thalmor will break her." He knows it will. Dayla always needs to make her own choices, follow her own path, and she although she never mentions it, he is sure she has been raised in the Valenwood resistance against the Thalmor.
It almost sounds as if Ondolemar is holding back a sigh. "You should rather worry about yourself."
Ancano glances at the door, but he knows he stands no chance to make an escape. "I bet Elenwen is not willing to let me go anytime soon, is she? And I assume you will not just let me slip away?"
"Guard your tongue!" the Justiciar hisses. "I couldn't possibly do that. I'm willing to treat you as decently as possibly while having you here, but I'm not getting myself into any trouble. I have my orders, and I'll stick to them."
Ancano raises his eyebrows. "So should Dayla refuse to cooperate …"
"Then I'm bound to have you executed on the spot and send your head to the Embassy."
The two Thalmor stare at each other.
"But that execution," Ancano says quietly, "is eventually supposed to happen anyway, is it not? No matter what Dayla does?"
This time, it's Ondolemar who looks away. "Yes. No matter what she does."
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