Disclaimer - Bethesda owns The Elder Scrolls universe, but it's such an inviting sandbox to play in! Any characters you don't recognize are possibly mine and I'm perfectly willing to loan them out if anyone wants them.

Blood Brothers

"For death begins with life's first breath And life begins at touch of death"
-John Oxenham-

The sun rose over the walls of the Imperial City as Lucas Archer crouched at the edge of Lake Rumare. He settled back on his heels, the only position that didn't cause some part of his thin body to ache – although even this small movement caused bruises to twinge on his back and legs. He grimaced and swiped a grimy hand across his face. He wasn't crying, he just wasn't.

As the slums behind him began to settle into its early morning routine, he skimmed a pebble across the lake where it sank with an unsatisfying plunk and small splash of dirty water. Just beneath the surface a pair of slaughterfish darted towards the disturbance of their territory, then lazily drifted through the shallow water to warm their scales in the pale light of dawn.

A breeze whispered over the water and cooled his face, but it carried the stink of trash with it and he stood and turned his face towards the sun. Behind him, the slums were beginning to settle into their morning routine. Those with legitimate jobs, which contrary to what the of the citizens of the city proper might have thought were the majority of the residents of the waterfront, were going off to work. The citizens of the city looked down on the jobs they did, but without them the city couldn't function properly. Without the men and women who mucked out stables, cleaned the privies, and kept the sewers from clogging up with trash and leaves the city would stink of shit. These were just some of the jobs the slum dwellers were forced into to feed their families.

Of course the men and women who worked on the other side of the law were only now coming home from a night of the myriad ways someone could make their coin by their wits. Theft, extortion, the collection and selling of information could be lucrative, but even then the gold to be had was slim and sporadic – hence even they lived in the slums. And punishments were meted out by the guards with an uneven hand and swift brutality. Scowling he picked up a larger rock that rested by his foot and hurled it into the water, striking one of the carnivorous fish with a loud splash and small cloud of blood. The second slaughterfish quickly made a meal of its erstwhile companion. He spun on his heel, ignoring the pain in his back and began to walk home.

He slipped quietly into the dim shack and arranged the small pile of driftwood he had collected on the shore in the cold fireplace. He'd been supposed to bank it the night before, but he hadn't been here to do so. He pulled the flint from it's box by the grate and looked over his shoulder at the only bed in the room. He held his breath a moment, his heart leaping into his throat at the still form huddled under two thin ragged blankets. He let it out in a hiss as soon as he saw his mother, Sabine, move slightly and heard her soft breath that always seemed to rattle quietly in her chest these days. He scraped together the remnants of burned wood from the day before and eventually managed to get a spark he could coax into a flame. His brow furrowed as his mother woke coughing. It was a harsh wet sound now and she put a hand to her chest and gasped for some moments afterword trying to catch her breath. He grabbed a tin cup from table and filled it with water from the bucket he'd brought in before fetching wood.

She drank in small sips and than handed the empty cup back to him. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a hand sized bruise. "Oh Luc what have you been doing?" She said tugging his sleeve back down and stroking his unkempt hair, "you didn't come home last night." she added quietly. She ran a hand over her own face and got out of bed, pulling her shoes on immediately to keep them off the cold stone floor. It was only the middle of Hearthfire and it had brought cold winds and even colder rains. The damp weather hadn't done anything to help the rot in her chest.

"You were stealing again, weren't you?" She asked, pulling the last of a sack of oats from the cabinet as he poured water from the bucket into the iron pot over the fire. He took the sack from her and added half of it to the pot. He ducked his head, dodging the question by pulling four copper septims out of his pocket and putting them in her hand...

"Sorry Ma," Lucas muttered as she pulled him into a hug, ignoring the twinge of pain from the bruises on his back. The septims weren't even what he'd gotten a beating for. A guardsmen had caught him filching an apple from a stall in the market and said he needed to be taught a lesson. He'd only wanted to bring the apple to his mother, they were her favorite and they would soon be gone from the market with such a lean harvest this year and a bad winter coming. Holden had been the one to arrest Lucas' father four years ago for robbery and murder and seemed to have made it his mission to 'keep that Archer brat on the straight and narrow'. This generally meant he followed Luc when he saw him anywhere other than the slums and gave him instructional cuffs to the head in passing any chance he got. It had been pure bad luck that Holden had been coming out of The Feed Bag at the very moment an apple had made into Luc's pocket. At least he hadn't found the coins or he'd have surely taken it in payment for his 'instruction.'

Sabine released him from the hug and then twisted his ear affectionately and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

Reviews are nice, especially since I haven't written Fan-fiction in many years and I'd love to see if I've gotten any better since I was basically a kid!