Warning: dubious consent.

Malrian enters the torture room an hour later, pleased to find the groundskeeper dead and his pet kneeling on the floor. The knife is placed on the ground in front of her, and she is bent in such a deep bow that her forehead is touching the ground. It appears that her lesson has been learned, but did he manage to break her? Did he manage to show her that her life is his to do with as he pleases?

"Stand up, my pet," he says, and she rises smoothly- almost. She is weak from nearly a month of very little food. He only provided her with enough to keep her alive, but not enough to truly nourish her.

Lumen folds her hands in front of her and stares at the ground. Malrian takes a moment to look her over. He has healed whatever wounds he inflicted on her so that she would not risk infection, but it is hard to tell if it worked or not. The poor girl is filthy. Her hair is matted with blood, and what's left of her tattered, threadbare dress barely covers her body.

"You are a bit of an eyesore," he says, his lips curling back into a feral grin, almost pleased at his handiwork. It will take more than a show of subservience to convince him that she is truly his again. "Would you like a bath?"

"Only if it will please you, master," she murmurs, her voice soft.

"It will," he says, touching her chin and coaxing her to look up. "You are in a dreadful state, and I will not have my pet looking like a little waif from the streets. Now undress, I'm afraid your clothing will have to be burned. There's no saving it at this point."

"Yes, master." There is no hesitation in her voice, or in her movements. She drops the tattered clothing to the ground, and when she is done she rests her arms at her sides, not even bothering to cover her nudity.

In the past she would have balked at the idea of walking through his estate completely naked, but when he motions for her to follow him, she does so without argument. The maids gasp and look away out of respect, as do the guards, but only because they fear what Malrian would do if he caught them leering at his pet.

He leads her to his chambers and into his private bathing room. The tub in the middle of the room has been filled with warm, scented water. "Get in," he says, removing his heavy Thalmor robe and placing it on a hook. He smiles to himself when he hears her step into the water without question or argument. He rolls up the sleeves of his white tunic, careful to make perfect, little creases in the material, rather than just shoving it up to his elbow. Once done, he turns around to see Lumen washing the grime from her face. He is pleased to see her still taking some initiative with the mundane tasks of her daily life. An obedient pet is what he wants, not some simple, mindless thing that cannot care for herself without instruction.

"Lean back so I can wash your hair," he says, enjoying the simple pleasure of doing something so normal again. A life under the constant scrutiny of his sisters was driving him mad. But now his life has almost returned to the way it was before they showed up on his doorstep. It is just him and his pet. His sweet, submissive girl who is focused on him now that the distraction of the groundskeeper has been dealt with. Ravienne's presence is a lingering annoyance, but he hopes her company will be made more pleasant now that Lumen is his again.

Finally clean, Lumen steps from the murky bathwater, and Malrian drapes a towel around her shoulders. He places his hand on the small of her back and guides her to his bedroom where he's already laid out a dress for her. But when his gaze sweeps over her nude form, he realizes her old clothing will not fit as well as it used to.

"You've lost weight, my girl." He pulls the towel away from her, and runs his fingertips across her still damp skin. "It is of no concern. You will be well fed from now on, and when we are in Alinor I will have new clothes made for you."

"We-" she hesitates, and he does not know if it is due to his roaming hands or not. "We are traveling to Alinor, master?"

"We are," he says. His hands move from her bare back to her sides, then to her stomach, drifting upwards until his fingers caress the underside of her breasts. He does not immediately pull away. His hands remain there, testing the boundaries of her obedience. "I think you will love it there. You will see cities of crystal towers reaching to the skies, and I will take you to see the impressive monuments that have been erected in honor of the Aldmeri Dominion. There will not be a single human in sight, and you, my girl, will be a rare jewel indeed. I will be the envy of the court because of you. Not many Altmer can claim to own a beautiful, perfectly behaved, Bosmeri pet."

Her hands come to rest atop his, but she does not push his hands away, nor does she guide them upwards. He does not know whether to take this as a sign of acceptance, or an invitation to proceed. In that moment he realizes how woefully inexperienced he is in this area, and he pulls away from her, feeling suddenly self conscious and overcome with revulsion.

Malrian moves to stand in front of her, and he is disappointed when he finds that he cannot read her. Her blank expression gives nothing away. There is no fear in her eyes. There is no blush upon her cheeks signaling her interest. There is nothing. He turns away from her, feeling rather exposed and a little confused. This abnormal desire needs to leave him, because he cannot do anything about it. He is her master, and she is just a pet. If he were to lay with her it would be no better than some half-wit farmhand rutting away at his master's sheep. Besides, coupling with her would be no different than any of his past experiences. It is always wet and sticky, and utterly disappointing in the end.

"Get dressed," he says tersely, annoyed with her for tempting him. "Lady Ravienne will be joining us for supper, and I expect you to behave. I will not tolerate another spat between you two."

"Of course, master," she says, stepping past him and picking up the dress. "I'll behave."

Lumen's heart is hammering in her chest, and her arms shaking as she pulls the dress over her head. It's not as if it's the first time Malrian has touched her, but it is the first time he's touched her in such an intimate way. It takes all her self control not to give in to a shiver when he moves behind her to tie the laces of her dress. She feels stretched thin. Pushed to the limits of what she can tolerate without snapping. If she weren't so sick with grief, maybe she would have pushed him away. As it is, she finds it hard to care about what happens to her now. There's nothing left of her to destroy. She is hollow.

But there is something burning deep within her. It is filthy and intoxicating, and dangerous. So she holds on to that feeling. She nurtures it, allowing the thick ichor of hatred to fill her up and flow through her veins. She is surprised that she has the capacity to feel anything anymore, but there is something oddly comforting about the sensation of red-hot rage clawing up her spine. It gives her a knife-sharp focus, and maybe it will enable her to endure Malrian for just a little while longer.

She hates how easy it is to fall back into their routine. She obeys his silent commands, anticipates his needs, and follows at his heels like a dog. Dinner passes by as so many others have; she sits perfect and prim, ignoring the pain in her knees, the twinge in her hips, and the empty ache in her stomach. She is hungry. She is so hungry. But she has no desire to eat. She supposes she will have to at some point, but if she does, it will only because her master bade her to.

"Must you bring that sad creature everywhere?" Lady Ravienne removes the napkin from her lap, folding it neatly before placing it beside her plate. "Don't tell me she's to come to Alinor with us."

Her master does not take the bait. Instead, he plucks a bit of chicken from his plate and offers it to her. Lumen's first inclination is to take it with her hand, but she knows what he wants. A display. A show of how perfectly obedient she can be. She tries to ignore the way her stomach rolls with shame when she opens her mouth, and allows her master to feed her like a dog.

"My lady, I would not deny you your pets. Why would you deny me of mine?"

"It is not pets that I want," she snaps. "I want children."

"Are they not one in the same?" he asks, the corner of his mouth turning up.

"No, they are not." She takes another glance at Lumen and rolls her eyes. "I can't watch this anymore. I'm going to take a bath. Perhaps we can talk later. In private."

"As you wish," he says distractedly.

It is a strange feeling to realize someone is so utterly consumed with her presence. Even stranger when that person is her master, who dotes upon her, feeding her dainty bites of chicken and even offering a sip of wine from his own glass. Lumen knows the dangers of making assumptions, especially where Altmer are concerned. They so rarely allow their true feelings to show. But if she is completely indulgent, she might go so far as to think Ravienne is jealous of her, which is a very dangerous position for a Bosmeri pet to be in.

It will be fatal when they are in Alinor.

Lumen has thought about running away a multitude of times, and she's even made a few unsuccessful attempts. But she has never felt such an urgency to get away until now. She cannot go to Alinor. She has to escape, but she also has to be smart about it. Malrian must believe that she is his, and he must learn to trust her again. She cannot make a move until his guard is dropped, and she does not know how long that might take.

She cannot entertain such thoughts now. Now she must be a good, obedient pet, doing as her master bids without question. If he is happy, he will eventually drop his guard. It will take time to rebuild his shaken trust, and she will likely have to do horrible things to earn it. At least she does not have any pride left to damage.

Malrian offers her another bite of chicken, which she accepts. He seems calmer without the ever watchful presence of Ravienne, so Lumen dares to move a little closer to him, resting her head against the side of his thigh and breathing a soft sigh. She so dearly wishes the events of the last few months were nothing more than a bad dream, because Silvan would be alive and her Master would have nothing to brood about, and her life would be much simpler.

"Ah, there she is," Malrian purrs, his fingernails gently scraping against her scalp. "There's my sweet girl. I have missed her so. If I had only known about the groundskeeper sooner, I would have dispatched with the source of your distraction months ago."

It is so hard not to react to his callous remark about Silvan. He would pick up on the slightest change in her breathing or a clench in her jaw. It takes every ounce of her self-control to just remain calm. "I am sorry, master," she says meekly. "I was selfish and I was only thinking of myself. I did not consider how my actions would affect you."

"We are all selfish from time to time my dear. Just be sure that it never happens again, hm?" He tugs on a lock of her hair to emphasize his point. "I will not be as lenient next time."

"It won't happen again."

"I know," he says, smoothing his fingers through her hair.

Lumen closes her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy a gentle touch after going so long without. It doesn't matter that it's Malrian's fingers in her hair, rather than Silvan's. It's just nice to be touched with the purpose of giving pleasure, rather than pain. "Master," she begins, fearing that his gentle touch will turn painful if he is not in the mood for conversation. "I have questions…"

"Ask."

"Are you going to marry Lady Ravienne?"

He laughs at that. "No. My family has forced me into a breeding contract rather than a marriage contract. I am supposed to supply her with children and then, gods willing, she will eventually leave."

"But you do not want to," she says, knowing she's entering dangerous territory.

"No, I do not," he says slowly. "It is an unpleasant thought."

"At least she's pretty."

He smirks, breathing a soft, amused laugh as he leans forward and takes her chin in his hand, beckoning her closer. "She is," he whispers. "But she is not as pretty as you, my pet." He kisses her on the forehead, his lips lingering upon her skin for a long time before he pulls away. He looks down at her mouth, his thumb caressing the swell of her lower lip before he finally releases her from his hold.

The look in his eyes sends a jolt of fear arcing through her. After a decade at his beck and call, Malrian is so easy to read. He wants her, and her only saving grace is that he doesn't know how to act on it. He eventually will, because Malrian did not achieve so much during his career as a Justiciar by sitting idle.

She avoids his gaze, looking down at her lap. She hopes he thinks she is merely being bashful, but the truth is that she does not want him to see the tears welling in her eyes. How could such kind words come from someone so cruel? He has stolen her dreams away. He forced her to kill someone she dearly loved. And now, she sits at his feet, lapping up his praise like a beaten dog, too stupid to know any better and too broken to care.

They remain in the dining room for hours. Malrian sips a glass of red wine and watches the sun set through the western windows, and Lumen sits beside him with her head resting upon his leg. The servants come and go, collecting the remnants of their dinner and clearing the mess away quickly and quietly. They remain undisturbed for a blessedly long time, but like all good things, it eventually comes to an end.

"You're still in here?" Ravienne's question holds no bite to it, only amusement. "I've been looking all over for you. I would've thought to find you in your study."

The Altmer's black, curly hair is pinned in a messy bun atop her head, her body wrapped in a white, silk robe. The thin, nearly translucent material clings to her skin, which is still damp from her bath. Even though she is fully covered, the robe leaves nothing to the imagination.

Malrian studiously avoids looking at her body, his gaze focused on something just over her shoulder. "I suppose time got away from me," he says, cordial as ever. "Did you need something?"

"Only you," she says, he lips twisting into a wicked grin. "Your pet can stay. She's obviously had experience. Perhaps she could help us." The suggestion comes out so light and nonchalant, but those words are meant to nettle Malrian- and they do.

"My lady, I rather think that would be inappropriate." Malrian's body grows tense and the hand in Lumen's hair stills. "I do not wish to involve my pet in these matters."

"I think your pet is well-versed in such matters," Ravienne laughs, turning her attention to Lumen. "You did fuck the groundskeeper, didn't you? I'd hate to think he died for nothing."

Lumen gasps, unable to give her an answer. It hurts too much to think of Silvan and of all the time they spent in each other's arms. She already misses him, and she doesn't think she'll ever stop.

"Answer me, girl."

She looks to Malrian for help, only to find him glaring down at her. "Go on," he says. "Answer her."

"We were intimate," she says, feeling somewhat defiant. Malrian probably knows more about their relationship than he lets on, so what's the point in dancing around the subject?

"Such a proper answer," she says, amused. "Was he any good? Tell me he got you off, at least."

"That is quite enough!" Malrian snaps, his patience finally at an end. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I think I may have figured out what makes you tick, Malrian. I'd rather not involve some Bosmeri mongrel in my sex life, but if that's what I have to do to get a baby out of you, then I will endure it." She straddles Malrian's lap, allowing her robe to fall open. "I was insulted at first, but I think I've finally accepted it. In fact, I actually pity you and that poor creature of yours."

"Do not talk about things you don't understand, woman," Malrian growls, though he does not attempt to shove her away. He has accepted the fact that he will eventually have to sleep with her, but he does not have to like it.

"I think you misunderstand, mistress. My master does not desire me sexually," Lumen says, although she knows that is not entirely true. "He does not particularly enjoy the act at all. He finds it disgusting and dirty." She knows she is toeing the line of what Malrian will and will not tolerate from her, but she hopes that he will be lenient with her if she attempts to help him in this matter.

"Lumen!"

"Hush, now. These are things I need to know." Ravienne's perfectly manicured hand slips beneath the hem of Malrian's trousers, attempting to tease some interest into the utterly disinterested Altmer. "What does he like? Certainly you know."

"I- I'm not sure," she says, somewhat horrified at what is happening right in front of her. Some part of her wants to walk away and leave Malrian to fend for himself, but another, darker part of her wishes to stay and help Ravienne, because there is a sick sort of pleasure in seeing her tormenter suffer at the hands of another.

"Oh, come on. Out with it! You're finally useful to me! Don't stop now."

"Master," she breathes. "Please tell me what to do."

She needs a command, but it does not come. Malrian winces, and whether it's due to pain, or pleasure, or just humiliation, Lumen does not know. Perhaps it is nothing more than begrudging acceptance. He is locked in a contract, and if he wishes to keep his fortune, his title, and his head, he'll have to make good on it at some point.

"Oh, thank the Divines," Ravienne says suddenly, looking down at his lap. "It seems that you're not completely dead from the waist down."

"Lumen," Malrian groans. "Leave. Now."

"Yes, leave." Ravienne shucks the rest of her robe and yanks at Malrian's trousers. "It seems I don't need you after all. I suppose your master only needed a little hands on attention."

Lumen does not have to be told twice, and he is on her feet and running down the hall within seconds. She runs until she reaches the farthest corner of the house, which happens to be Malrian's chambers. He will come looking for her when Ravienne is done with him. She does not know what sort of mood he will be in, but she doubts it will be a good one. It would be in her best interest to suck up to him, rather than avoid him entirely.

Notes: Sincerest apologies for taking so long to get an update out. I hit a bit of a lull after that last chapter, and I thought I was nearing the end of the fic, but my brain had other ideas.

In this chapter I wanted to highlight Lumen's defeat and desperation, as well as Malrian starting to come to terms with his desire for his pet. I would say "Things are getting weird." But, honestly? They've been weird. Things are always weird when Malrian is involved. In a chapter or two I will really delve into his sadism and subsequently squick my entire readership. So I'll be apologizing for that as well…