She didn't see him the rest of the way to the Laroque farm. When she rode up the path from the Gold Road, nobody was outside. Snow covered everything, and smoke curled gently from the chimneys of the comfortable farmhouse up ahead. Smiling to herself, Lily steered Victor around to the back, where the barn was squatted. Dismounting, she led him through the doors into the warmth of the building. Other animals called greetings, and she sighed happily at being back in the comforting warmth of the family farm.

After putting Victor away and packing what she needed in one of the smaller bags, she left the barn and marched through the thin layer of snow toward the front of the house. When she came near the door, she heard voices inside; more than just her father, sister and Marie's husband. They had visitors.

Without bothering to knock, she kicked snow off her boots and opened the door.

Warmth from the fire hit her like a wall, and she blinked for a moment, surprised. Shutting the door behind her, she looked around and saw a golden Khajiit lounging before the fire, and a burly Orc smoking in the corner. Her sister's Redguard husband was making conversation with the Orc, and Lily could hear even more male voices in the adjacent kitchen.

Brom, short-haired and proper—a complete city slicker—looked back at the sound of the shutting door. "Oh, hello," he greeted, pausing his conversation with the Orc. "Another visitor? I'm Brom. Can I help you with anything?"

Well, he was courteous, just as she remembered. "No, actually. It's Lily."

A look of surprise crossed over his broad features. "Oh! I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you immediately! Shall I get Louis or Marie?"

Lily shook her head, and in doing so dislodge a clump of snow. "No, I won't bother them yet." She set the bag by her boots after kicking them off, and hung her cloak up to dry on a hanger by the door. "How have things been here?"

Brom frowned as she approached. "Did you get your father's last letter?"

"No… why? What did it say?" She sat down beside the Khajiit, who barely stirred at the presence of someone new.

"I'm sure you heard that Marie lost the baby."

"Yes."

"She's pregnant once more," he admitted, smiling a little.

"Shouldn't that be good?" Lily asked worriedly.

He nodded and sighed. "Yes, but she thinks she'll lose it again. She wanted to talk to you about it, being her sister." There was a faint note of finality to his voice.

"Oh, all right." Lily looked into the fire, leaving him to his conversation with the Orc. She leaned back on the couch, ready to relax for a bit, and merely listened; Brom and the Orc were talking about the Arena, and how the Champion of Cyrodiil should fight, for wouldn't he be incredible at it? In the kitchen, three male voices were discussing something, but she couldn't decipher anything notable.

After a few minutes of merely sitting in the warmth of the room, she sighed and stood up. No point in making her family wait any longer, and there would be no easy way to tell them she intended to marry a criminal.

Just when she was about to go in front of the fire to wind toward the kitchen, the Khajiit decided to finally say something.

"I wouldn't recommend going in there yet," she purred softly. Her amber eyes remained on the fire, though her long, thin tail twitched somewhat and curled around her leg.

"Why not?" Lily stopped and frowned at her.

Her ears were relaxed as she gazed into the fire, kept from being completely flat by a dark red headband that also held longer golden tresses from her eyes. Over a narrow, sleek frame, she wore a plain green shirt and brown trousers that were somewhat stained with mud on the hem. Clawed fingers played absently with the seam of the pants as she glanced up at Lily.

"They've been talking for a while. I doubt they'll want to be interrupted yet. It sounds important." Her ears stood a bit, and her whiskers twitched sensitively.

"Oh. All right. I'll wait a bit." Lily leaned against the stone hearth, warming her chilly hands.

"Lily, he said your name is?"

"Yes."

The Khajiit looked toward the kitchen. "They've mentioned that name a few times."

"Odd. Thanks." Disregarding propriety, Lily pulled away from the hearth and marched directly for the kitchen, where she could hear the voices more clearly. The gentle Breton accent of her father, and two Imperials: Jake—how did he get there before her?—and Marius Rotarius, unless she was sorely mistaken.

"—not anymore, Marius," her father was saying. Lily stood just out of sight, wanting to hear their conversation before she barged in. "I read the broadsheet after it was published by the Courier. Bail was posted. His name was cleared for all charges."

"Yes, that's the official record," the Legionnaire countered smoothly. "But that is only for what the Elder Council charged him for when he was arrested as the Gray Fox."

"A total set-up," Jake butted in. "I'm not the Gray Fox. If I was, you wouldn't be able to understand that I'm Jacob Bercarius right now."

"And that, Louis—that is very near to admitting being in the Thieves Guild right there," Marius added, sounding rather triumphant. "He understands how it works."

"How what works?" Louis asked.

"The Gray Cowl of Noctural. Rumour says that the Gray Fox stole it from Nocturnal herself. Of course, that's only what rumour says." Marius' voice was dry now. "Needless to say—he has done much more than he's been charged for, Louis."

Someone—Jake, probably—snorted.

"No shit I have," he scoffed. "I'm not stupid enough to get caught every single time I break the law."

"Admitting to it."

Someone else sighed.

"Marius," Louis said softly, "please hear him out. I would like to hear all sides of this before I jump to any conclusions."

Jake grunted, and Marius made a low growling noise. Lily was surprised they weren't trying to kill each other, with all the testosterone in the air. "Break the law can mean a lot of things, you know," Jacob pointed out. "It isn't necessarily murder and theft. Only someone narrow-minded would think that."

"Enough with the criminal activity," the farmer interrupted as Marius inhaled to retort. "I don't care about that. I'm sure we've all committed a crime in some way. I've skipped on my taxes," he said, and the Legionnaire made a choking noise. "What I care about—Jacob, do you love my daughter?"

There was a long bout of silence.

"Hm," Marius grunted. "I think it's time you leave, Bercarius."

"Or what? Are you going to arrest me right here if I don't? Call it trespassing?" He was taunting the soldier, egging him on.

Terrified that it could very well blow up into an all-out confrontation, Lily decided to make herself known. She rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen, surprised at the scene before her. Louis was rubbing his forehead as though it pained him, and Jake and Marius were practically nose-to-nose, glaring each other down with intense hatred in their eyes. They were an even match in height; Marius was only more intimidating because of his soldier status, and the burly muscles showing through his plain white shirt.

"Papa," Lily said, forcing a smile onto her mouth. "Jake, when did you get here?"

"Half an hour ago," he replied stiffly. His eyes were still locked on Marius, and his fist was clenching and unclenching at his side, very near the bloodstained Blade of Woe.

A warm smile grew on Louis' thin, lined lips. "I was wondering when you'd get here, Lily, dear," he said gently. "Jacob warned me that you were on your way when he arrived. It's so good to see you again."

Lily stepped into his embrace, and welcomed the comforting smell of the farm that constantly lingered in his clothes and hair. "You too, Papa. What's going on here?" she asked, though she very well knew.

"This—" Marius started to snap, but Louis cut him off by delicately clearing his throat.

"Jacob tells me that you two intend to wed," he said, holding her shoulders when they finished hugging.

"It's true." Lily held up her hand, where the stolen ring still sat. "I've talked to Oleta, and she's going to talk to Ilav for me. It's going to happen, Papa."

Louis smiled happily. "So long as you're happy, Lily. Have you planned out what you're going to do—where you'll live, jobs to get?"

Lily glanced at Jake, and he merely arched his eyebrows. "We might stay with Jake's mother for a bit until we get settled." That was enough information on that.

"Do you mind if I have a little chat with Jacob, dear? Marie is in her room; I'm sure she would love to see you."

Lily nodded and gave Jake a stern look before turning and leaving the kitchen, Marius on her heels. Back in the living room, she paused and smiled at him, trying not to look strained, though she clearly remembered their last meeting in Bruma.

"It's good to see you again too, Marius," she offered kindly.

The Imperial's mouth twitched upwards, but it was hard to get past the heavy frown lines around his lips and on his brow. "And you as well, Lily. Are you heading upstairs?" She nodded, and the two turned past the kitchen to head for the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. They walked in silence, until they reached Marius' room. He bade her goodnight, and she continued alone to her sister's room.

There was no light coming from the cracks around the door when she approached Marie's room. Though, it was fairly late… not late enough for Marie to be sleeping.

Lily knocked once, lightly, before pushing open the door. A blast of hot, muggy air was the first to greet her—it felt as though the fire had been lit all day, with the windows closed.

"Marie?" she croaked, stepping into the room. It was completely dark, save for a faint bit of light shining in through the window above the bed. "Are you up?"

A lump shifted beneath the thick blankets on the bed. "Lily?" Marie's voice was soft and sleepy. "When did you get here?"

"Not long ago." Lily ventured carefully into the room and sat on the edge of the bed after feeing around a bit. "How are you? Brom said you're pregnant again."

Marie sighed heavily and rolled over to face her sister. She was unnaturally pale compared to Lily's memory, and her long auburn waves were mussed and tousled. "I am."

Lily lightly touched her sister's arm. "Have you left this room at all lately?" she asked, guessing from the stuffiness.

Marie shook her head. "Not unless I have to. I'm afraid to do anything but sleep, Lily," she admitted, whispering. "I don't want to lose another one."

"You won't," the priestess promised softly. Despite the blankets and heat of the room, Marie was trembling. "You'll have a baby."

There was another sigh, and Marie's hand settled over Lily's. "I need something to love," she breathed. Marie sounded exhausted; she shouldn't have been shivering with how hot her room was.

"Brom?"

"It's not the same. You'll know someday." Marie yawned and curled closer to her sister.

Lily looked up at the window. The shutters were closed, and only a very faint draft blew in through the barely-opened glass panes. "Sooner than you might think," she remarked, standing and pushing open the window and the shutters. Cold air instantly enveloped her and began pushing the hot air out of the room. Feeling much clearer, she sat back down beside Marie. "You shouldn't lock yourself in here. You'll get sick."

The bedcovers rustled as she tried to cover herself more. "I'm fine. And what's this about sooner than I might think?"

Lily held up her hand so the ring was visible in the darkness. Marie gawked at it and pulled her hand closer to inspect it.

"Wow. Is he rich?"

The younger sister snorted. "His family is. You'll remember him—Jacob Bercarius, the one in my letters. He's been here before, too, at the farm."

"The criminal who was arrested as the Gray Fox?"

"I—yes. But he's not the Gray Fox, Marie. Someone with a… grudge against him set him up," Lily explained, barely catching herself in time when she was about to admit Dar'vaba's real intent. "He's really not a bad guy."

"All right. When are you getting married?"

"I have no idea."

"Oh. Where will you live?"

Lily's mouth twisted. "I have no idea."

Marie managed a breathy laugh. "As usual, you have no idea what you're going to do with your life, Lily. This is going to be just like the mage training and the Arcane University."

"Only I'll go through with it this time." Lily tucked her hair behind her ear and tilted her head to the side to admire her sister. She was almost exactly how Lily remembered, only thinner. Sicker. Pangs of worry clenched her stomach. "Maybe I'll have the time to actually visit the Arcane University now that I'm not helping the Champion of Cyrodiil save the world."

"I hope so," her sister sighed.

Lily blinked. That was not the answer she expected. "You do?"

Something moved, and Lily thought Marie may have nodded. "I'm sorry for putting down your dreams when we were kids, Lily. I was so mean to you, and for no reason too. Maybe I was just bitter after Mama and Clément died. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"It's fine, Marie. Please don't stay in here forever," Lily said, standing.

"Yeah, okay," was a rather pitiful, unpromising response.

"I'm going to go to bed. Goodnight, Marie. I love you."

"Love you too, Lily."

Shaking her head, the priestess turned and left her sister's room. Mere steps away was her own; hoping it wasn't occupied by one of the guests, she pushed open the door and slipped inside. Dark, windows shut, hearth empty: it wasn't in use.

Lily opened a chest of drawers beneath a speckled old mirror and found a brush. Everything was as she left it before scurrying off to Anvil; her father and sister had left it alone.

Pulling the soft bristles of the brush through her tangled hair, Lily wandered about, opening drawers and cupboards in a search for clothes. She was grimy from travel, but far too exhausted, mentally and physically, to worry about bathing just yet. Grabbing up an old knee-length shift, Lily tossed it onto the nicely made bed and opened the window with her free hand. A cool breeze drifted in; clouds covered the moon.

Once she was finished with her hair, she stacked logs and torn parchment into the hearth and lit it with a simple fire spell. Once it was crackling merrily away, she changed from her travelling clothes into the plain white shift, and collapsed face-first on her mattress. It groaned and creaked as her weight suddenly fell on it, and she grinned. It had always been rather noisy.

She remained that way for a long time, thinking about how the conversation between Jake, her father, and Marius had gone before she interrupted. She couldn't imagine it lasting civilly. Punches would have been thrown between the Imperials, with nothing Louis could have done about it.

After a while, she heard the door behind her ease open, with very soft footsteps in the entranceway. A low chuckle, and, "Great view."

Lily sighed and leaned her cheek on her arm as Jake wandered into her room. "Done talking to my father?"

She watched him lean over the bed to peer out the window. "Yeah. All he did was ask when this whole thing happened, how I planned on supporting you and, or, a family, where we would stay until we had a house of our own, what we planned to do after that, and, y'know, things a father would typically ask his, uh…" A little grimace passed over his face. "Future son-in-law."

"And what did you say?" Lily rolled onto her side, admiring him. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and she could see several long, thick scars running from his wrist to his elbow, glowing silvery-orange in the firelight. She gawked at them, unable to look away. She had never noticed those scars before. They looked ancient. Deadly.

"Uh… when it happened, that I'd get a job and stay in Cheydinhal with my mother 'til we get our own place, and that sort of thing," he replied, scratching the back of his head. A little bit of dark stubble had grown on his cheeks again, and he rubbed the back of his wrist against it. "I can't give straight answers, since I don't know what in fetching Oblivion we're going to do."

"Were you getting along, at least?"

"Yeah. Not with Marius, so thank the gods he's not your dad." Jake glanced down at her, and she looked up at his face rather than the underside of his arms. A little frown pulled his brows together, and she squirmed; he knew she had been looking at the scars. "Tired?"

"Exhausted." Lily crawled beneath the quilt on the bed and stifled a yawn. "So I'm definitely going to bed now."

Jake looked at the space beside her, confused. "You know," he began slowly, almost cautiously. Lily watched him, frowning. "This will be the first time I've slept in a bed in gods know how long. And it'll be the first time I'm not in danger of dying in my sleep in a long time too."

"So what's the matter?"

He scowled, then put on a puppy dog expression. "I'm scared," he joked.

Lily patted the spot beside her. "Come on, then."

Once they were sufficiently warm beneath the quilt, curled up together, Lily sighed happily and shut her eyes.

A few minutes after the room went quiet, she felt Jake shift, and he whispered a moment later, "So, exactly how tired are you?"

Lily blindly patted around, then smacked the back of his head when she found it. He yelped loudly, and someone in the room next to them thudded what sounded like a fist against the wall. "Go to bed, ass," she said, and fell asleep.

Of course, saying that she fell asleep is a term used lightly. Lily had been in one of those half-slumbers, in sleep limbo, for what felt like five minutes before something hard smacked into her head, sending her flying off the bed and onto the floor with a grunt.

Stars quite literally floated before her eyes and her ears were ringing loudly as she rolled into the stone hearth. "Holy gods," she whispered, clutching her head. Her own agony had to be put on hold—she heard sounds of struggle and fighting on the other side of the room.

Lily rubbed her watery eyes and managed to keep them open. Sprawled on the floor, she had a clear view of the proceedings going on across the bed from her—by looking underneath the bed. Jake and two others were wrestling on the floor, grunting and snarling at each other. The strangers—a dark brown Khajiit and a burly Dunmer—seemed to be trying to grapple Jake and knock him unconscious.

Or viciously molest him.

She couldn't tell.

"Stop," she said weakly. "Stop. Help."

Finally, the struggles stopped. Jake lay panting on the floor, with the Dunmer fellow seated on top of him. Jake's arms were bent back at an awkward angle, and his cheek was pressed into the rough wooden floor.

The Khajiit stood and grunted. "Never submissive before, were you, Cub?" he rasped.

Lily's heart skipped a beat.

Two.

Three.

Dar'vaba.

An assassin of the Dark Brotherhood was in her home.

Jake said nothing, but she could see him shut his eyes and grimace as the Dunmer pressed on his arms, digging them into his back.

The Khajiit wandered around the foot of the bed, toward the hearth—and Lily. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see his furless scars or the empty eye socket.

"This one is easy to track," he purred, lightly poking Lily with one toe. She felt his tail swish by her bare legs, and she pressed her eyes harder shut. "Noisy. Messy. But you, Cub, you could be more difficult—had I not known what you are like in the wild. So foolish, going into the forts and ruins and bandit camps. So typical Cub."

Jake made a threatening noise, deep in his throat, but didn't reply. Instead, the low voice of the Dark Elf spoke up. "Now what, Brother? Do you want me to kill him?"

"He is mine to kill. He has been for three years."

The Dunmer chuckled.

Shivers ran through Lily.

Dar'vaba made a catlike pondering noise. "Cub is mine. Do what you want to this one, Brother."

His claws scratched on the wood floor as he walked back to his prey and his fellow assassin. There sounded to be a bit of a kerfuffle on the other side of the room, then Lily felt someone come closer to her, with light footsteps. Something cold touched her, and she gasped.

The Dark Elf laughed again, gripping her roughly with chilly hands and flipping her onto her back. "Hey," he grunted, and lightly slapped her cheek. "Little Breton. Look at me."

He hit her again, and Lily's eyes fluttered open. He was crouched above her, smirking down at her with an evil leer. Too frightened to say anything, she merely looked up at him.

"On your back is better, no? So you can at least think you are facing me like a man. Now, Cub," Dar'vaba started to say on the other side of the room, but he was interrupted by the sound of someone—Jake—noisily hawking and spitting. Lily looked over just in time to see the Khajiit wipe sputum from his cheek, then growl ferociously and slam a fist right into Jake's nose.

She screamed when a sickening crunch filled the air and Jake jerked back, blood pouring from his face.

Her reaction garnered her a punch in the stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs.

"Shut up," the Dunmer snarled, straddling her hips and pressing his full weight on her. Gasping for air, Lily moaned at the sudden pressure, and he snatched the front of her shirt, pulling her upward. "Keep your fetching mouth shut, Breton, or I'll slit your throat."

For a moment, the room was completely silent.

Outside, Lily could hear cheerful voices laughing, as well as clinking and the crackle of a fire.

Everyone else was in the yard, as was typical during the winter months, for a bonfire.

The Dark Elf seemed to realize what she was thinking, and he chortled again. "No one's here to save you now. Hurry up, Dar'vaba."

"No." The cat spoke softly, and Lily looked underneath the bed to see him leaning close to Jake's face as he choked and gagged on his own blood. Dar'vaba's whiskers twitched delicately. "This one has evaded me for three years. It is the dawn of a new era; his death will finally be mine, and the Night Mother will finally have his blood."

"Hm. Sithis will be pleased."

Dar'vaba's nose was nearly touching Jake's face now. He pulled his lips back and flattened his ears, and Lily could see the stumps of broken teeth from his fight with the daedroth. "I cannot wait to see Lucien Lachance's face when Sithis tells him that Jacob Bercarius is finally dead."

"No," Lily whispered, before common sense told her to keep her mouth firmly shut.

Maybe it was weird of her to notice during the rather dire situation, but her conscience sounded an awful lot like Martin.

Something stung her face, and she came-to a few moments later with a throbbing skull and a dagger poking her neck. "What part of shut up don't you understand, woman?" the Dunmer snapped.

"Apparently all of it," she mumbled, and gasped, struggling to writhe away as he dug the point of the knife into the skin above her breastbone and dragged down. Blood welled from the cut and soaked into the front of her shift.

Oh, Akatosh, her Martin-voiced conscience was slow to react today.

"Keep her loud, Brother," Dar'vaba hissed. "Give us a reason to kill her."

Lily's eyelids fluttered as he removed the blade from her front. She let her head roll to the side, where she saw Dar'vaba calmly sharpening a jagged dagger as he stared down at Jake's bloody face. Jake remained stony and silent the entire time, and his nose wasn't bleeding as profusely anymore, but Lily could see tear tracks running through the crimson. He had to be in so much pain.

Unconsciously, she summoned a healing spell to her fingertips, but as she was touching the Dunmer, he noticed.

"Hey!" he shouted. "She's trying to use spells! You never said she was a mage!"

Lily yelped at his dangerous expression and missed whatever Dar'vaba said. Jerking her hips upwards in an attempt to dislodge her captor, she shuffled to the side and tried to bring her knees up to get away. But he was too quick for her, and he splayed his hand on her chest and slammed her back into the floor, knocking her head against the wood. Dazed, Lily tried to escape again, flailing toward the bed, flipping and writhing and trying desperately to get him off her. She freed her hands, which had been trapped beneath her, and shoved him weakly back, but he rolled his weight forward to keep his balance, and his knife plunged into her abdomen, just beneath her ribs.

Everything seemed to stand still for just a few moments. Lily gasped as pain shot through her body, radiating from the dagger jutting from her waist.

Then things went back to real-time. Something slammed loudly nearby, echoing dully in her head, and voices picked up amidst snarls and hisses. Someone was shoved into the wall and a painting slipped off its nail and broke on the floor. Somebody called her name, weak, whispered…

A blue-tinted hand yanked the dagger from her body, making her jerk and twitch, and blood bubbled from the gaping wound. Lily weakly covered it; her hands were instantly stained crimson, and she tried to summon a healing spell to fix it. She couldn't concentrate; the world was spinning nauseously around her.

A furry hand came down atop hers, and she wanted to scream, but it wasn't dark brown. There was that other Khajiit in the house, the gold one…

"What's she doing?" a voice echoed tonelessly above her face.

"Drying do heal 'erself," a clogged slur replied. "Geddit do help."

Lily's lids shut and she pawed uselessly at the wound. The blood was hot, smooth.

"Churl," the first said, "go outside, get the Breton and the Imperial. Now!"

Her brows twitched into a pitiful frown. "Churl?" she breathed, and slipped into the void.