Taylor
Salen nodded towards Varis. "Yes, my merchant connection would be my mother. One, Lady Thalianna Jaelinoth. Current Matriarch of the Jaelinoth house, a line that stretches all the way back to the Aldmer settlement of the Summerset Isle. The title is only impressive to those who care, and important enough that the Thalmor didn't have her drown me as a babe. " He waved his hand dismissively as he cut his food into smaller bites. The knife easily slicing the sauce covered poultry. He knew that Varis didn't care about his name, his lineage, his ancestry. But his superiors did, it's why he thought to mention it. 

"That is why I wanted to ensure her safety. So long as I live, I am a stain upon her reputation. A fact that I am constantly reminded of. But I did my best as a child. I behaved, I worked to prove myself. It payed off, for a time" Salen took a few moments to nibble at his food, chasing it with a swig of water. His jaw clicked slightly as he chewed. He swallowed and continued. 

"You offer me aid, I ask why. What do you want from me, I know you aren't doing this out of the goodness of your heart." Salen pointed his fork towards Varis.
Mitchell
His eyebrows raised as Salen explained the origin of his family name. The origin of Aldmer settlement on the isles? It may even be possible that one of this man's named ancestry had made it on that originally pilgrimage made by the prophet Veloth alongside the Chimer. Varis stroked his whiskers as he thought about it, and grinned beneath his mustache as he let Salen continue.

In the end, Salen asked why Varis wanted to help. The man chuckled at that. Salen had caught on, now.

"An original Aldmer family tree. In my presence. Oh, how lucky you have made the both of us."

Varis rubbed his hands together, took a sip of water, and set the glass down as he looked to the fellow mer. "And here I thought my plans stagnant! Hehe.."

He shook his head, utterly amused. "Don't you see your possible importance?"

The man turned his head to face Salen fully. "Two hundred years ago, the Thalmor claimed they had successfully closed the Gates of Oblivion in Summerset. Fifty years ago, they beheaded the Blades, and hunted them into near-extinction. They failed to stop the Blades from reviving, in the name of that Dragonborn here in Skyrim, during the Dragon Crisis. Bankers and finance experts in Solitude whisper of their associations with the Civil War entirely. Even after that White-Gold Concordant, the Dominion holds no sway over Hammerfell, aside from how they may meet their own deaths on the beaches of that province."

Varis seemed utterly overjoyed.

"You, and your family, hold the key to internal mutiny. To utter destabilization and ruin of the infrastructure of your nation. All those who scorned you, all those who called for your drowning as a babe, could be put to the sword, when revolution comes, and *You* Lead the charge. Imagine, you, your family, the faces of rebellion and extinction of the Thalmor."

The things he said, he said them with such glee, but not the glee of a revolutionary. The glee of an arms dealer manufacturing a war.

"All it takes is a domino effect of mistrust. Reveal the weakness, the instability of the Thalmor internal network, and it all crumbles around them as the people revolt. It could spark revolutions all across the world. Revolutions require funding, and those fighters who win, must pay their debts."

Varis placed a hand to the lower half of their face, staring at Salen from above his pointer finger as it crossed over his nose.

He pulled it away and was smiling. "You, the once scorned half-man, half-mer, sitting atop a throne, built from the bones of those who treated you like trash."

Varis seemed utterly enthralled by visions of currency and power, until, his disposition faded, and a more collected, analytical mindset came over his expression. "Hm... Though, it cannot happen too quickly. I'm sure fires are already happening in Summerset. All that is needed is a fan. Such as the removal of Thalmor bases and embassies on mainland Tamriel."

He tapped his chin, nodded to himself, but paused.

"Though, perhaps I get ahead of myself."

He looked toward Salen again. At least, more so, *At* Him. As if he was actually looking at him this time, and not peering through him to the money that awaited in his future. 

"Hm. I sound insane, don't I? And yet... I suspect you can see a glimpse of my vision, as such that I have described it. You, rising up, claiming Summerset, and using your own Imperial ancestry to broker a peace with the Empire. A dogged empire that will rot on its own, but you would have such wealth, such power... Hm. It's right at your fingertips, and you never told me!"

Varis held his forehead as he leaned against the table, narrowed his gaze, and said, "You, *Can* See what I do, can't you? You want it, don't you?" He asked inquisitively, pondering if Salen could reach out and take that which Varis envisioned.
Taylor
Salens brow furrowed as he listened to Varis rant and rave. He felt a pang of regret at telling him of his heritage. It was obvious the other Mer wanted to use his name for his advantage. He ate as he followed along with the Dunmer's words. But eventually put his utensils down. Having enough of the mad ramblings of revolution. There was a bit of temptation, it's only natural to want revenge on ones oppressors. But reasoning was triumphing over his emotion, he craved stability, not retribution, and certainly not a throne. 

"You assume that I want that. That I crave the sort of power that collapsing the Dominion could bring." Salen shook his head. "I don't." He leaned back from the table and looked around the tavern. At all the people chatting, drinking, otherwise enjoying the night. Salen crossed his arms over his chest and refocused on Varis. 

"This talk of revolution is not my wish, it is yours. You make your intentions too obvious. And now that i've made the mistake of telling you of my lineage you want to use that. Use me. Tempt me all you want, but my desire is to simply finish my term within the Thalmor, and return to civilian life. I don't want to scheme my way up to the top and bring my nation to it's knee's. I don't care to see the Dominion fall. Despite my place within it, I still am loyal. Perhaps not totally to the Thalmor, but my allegiances still lay within Alinor."

Salen lifted his chin, gazing at Varis, meeting his eyes. "You live up to the reputation of the Telvanni. Hungry, Ambitious. Your kind are all little climbers aren't they? Using the dagger in their opponents backs as rungs to the next step. I should have listened to my gut when I first met you."
Mitchell
The Wizard seemed to pause. 

His posture straightened, and a severe expression came over his features as Salen spoke. 

A look of disappointment, disapproval, and dissatisfaction. As though he had been cock-blocked. He visibly mauled over Salen's words, grinding his maulers behind his lips. 

When he proceeded to speak of the House Telvanni, Varis' eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed, practically knitting together at the ends. 

"You are right."

He said that much, seamlessly. As though none of what Salen had said insulted or impeded Varis. 

"I am a shining example of my people. An example of their nature. An example of their mindset. An example of their vision."

The Telvanni leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table, and laced his fingers together. 

"And yet." He began to quote Salen, "*Tempt me all you want, but my desire is to simply finish my term within the Thalmor, and return to civilian life.*"

The Wizard frowned. "Your kind tends to live a long, *Long* Time. Even longer than the average Dunmer, excluding House Telvanni Magisters. You have been in this province for decades. And yet, you have not climbed. You have not escaped this frozen wasteland. You have been here for decades, and what have you accomplished? What have you done, that will invite you back to Alinor?"

His eyes widened a little. "I don't need to tempt you. You already see what I see. The vision itself is all that you need. Over time, as your greys start to show, and you yearn to see your homeland again, your own mother, remember all that they have done to you. As you see winter fall on this land, year after year, as generations of men fall before your eyes, you will yearn for Alinor more and more, until it becomes such a fantasy of memories past, that you will begin to wonder if it even exists anymore."

Varis stared at Salen, his face acute and sharp as he sat there. In this light, with this demeanor, with this expression, he seemed far more Daedric than Mer. 

"You already know where that road leads. And, I will do you one better. A treat, better than anything your leaders have likely ever offered you."

Varis reached into his robes, and plucked out the amulet. He set it on the table. 

He took the documents Salen had provided, and placed them on the table. 

Laid out and lame. 

"You seem to regret working with me. Thus, pull out now, and I will eviscerate both of these. Evidence of your crimes against the Thalmor. Evidence of your betrayal. I will annihilate the evidence of your sins, and obliviate them from your mind."

"Pull out, and I will make you forget about me. I wonder, how long before we meet again, in the Blue Palace, under the same conditions? Over, and over, and over again, until you begin to remember each time I erase myself from your mind."

Varis smiled softly, becoming Mer once more. 

"I won't force you to claim what we *Both* Can see, but that which you do not desire. Thus, say the word, and I will not bring this up again. I will not bring up revolution, nor your family name, and all will be as though you never told me this truth about yourself. We will go back to business, you will climb, and some day, *Possibly*, you will do something that sends you back to Alinor. We will both wait for that day to come, and should it, I will celebrate."

The Wizard leaned back into his seat, sighed through his nostrils, and said, "So, Salen Jaelinoth, what shall I do?"
Taylor
Salen's lips tightened as Varis spoke. His expression growing ever more, distraught. As Varis revealed how he could erase himself from Salen's memories, it was if something broke within him. He felt as if reality itself had been altered. A growing panic in his bones, nausea, illness. His hearing deafened slightly as he felt emotions drop and build up again. He simply stared ahead at Varis, his inner turmoil not visible on his face. But his quickened breathing gave it away slightly.

"Erase yourself from my mind... Erase yourself from MY mind?" Salen stood up from his chair suddenly. Leaning over the table, he braces his hands on the wood. Staring at Varis intently. Lips trembling slightly as he tries to speak without his voice cracking. "You say you can erase yourself from my mind. Just to find me again and, torment me ad-nauseum until you get what you want." A look of horror casts over his face and he leans back from Varis. "You..." He struggles to find his words. To ask a question he knows he will not like the answer to. 

"How long have you been doing this Varis?" It was a genuine question. As Salens mind raced he truly wanted to know if this even was his first time meeting the Telvanni. He shook his head in disbelief, and he glances down at the amulet and the papers. He manages to calm himself slightly, the initial shock to his system moving over for disgust to set in. "My time is here, I know it. That justiciar is all I need to get out of here..." Salen rubs his brow, moving back to sit in his chair once more. He stays quiet for a few moments, staring at the table. 

Salen lets out a sigh. Defeat in his eyes. "The charm, the charm for my superior..."
Mitchell
The Wizard's eyes beamed as Salen spoke. As horror, rage, sorrow, dread, and a miasma of unreality clouded the other man's mind. *It seems I am becoming a better Illusionist by the day. Hm. Perhaps I should attempt to Obliviate myself from his mind. It would be a complex spell... And I might overload his mind to the point of Sheo's Realm... But, it could work.*

Varis listened, and finally, when Salen asked how long Varis had been doing this, the Wizard refused to comment. He only watched the Altmer, allowing his mind to race. 

Then, he solidified himself in this timeline, in this point in space-time. Varis made no comment. 

Finally, defeat.

So, Salen would choose to return to business as usual. 

But, he did not demand silence for Varis' further ambitions regarding the Jaelinoth family name. 

The cogs and wheels would remain turning. 

The Wheel would continue to roll. 

"The Charm." He repeated. "Of course."

The Wizard sighed through his nostrils, sliding the amulet and papers back into his robes, as he sat up and looked Salen in the eyes. Before, he looked down at the bowl of fruit, held up his fingers, and caused a grape to break off from the cluster, fly into his hand, and proceeded to pop it into his mouth.

He smiled as the sound of the juicy morsel squishing resounded across the rather quiet space between them. 

"Don't worry, I'll pick up the tab. I'm glad that you chose correctly. However, I do wonder, what do you think of yourself, to ask me how many times we have had this conversation?" Varis shrugged, "A question to ponder, not exactly one for me to answer."

The Sorcerer shrugged his shoulders, shimmied into his seat, and let out a relieved, relaxed sigh. "I will tell you this much, Salen; I am no more an enemy to you, that the Thalmor are to you. In fact, I would rather prefer to be *Better* Than them, to you. I would be a fool to present myself as a worse employer than them."

His eyebrows rose a tad. "So, would you like to come upstairs and see how I enchant your cursed trinket? Or, shall you simply find it at your bedside in the embassy barracks?"