The Sanctuary smelled divine, and that could mean only one thing.
I clutched my weekly delivery of potions, frowning at the heavenly scent that emanated from the living quarters. Strange, all the stranger for where it came from – this underground lair, all cold stone and flickering candles, smelled instead like a cheery bakery. Even Luke seemed entranced by the smells, trotting obediently at my side, nose high in the air. I followed my own nose to the kitchens, watching with a smile as Antoinetta danced as she worked.
Home from contract, I supposed. I'd avoided the Sanctuary since that night I spoke with Vicente but knowing she was back, remembering what he had told me to do – I hung back in the thresh-hold for a moment, biting my lip.
I hadn't seen her since – since before. And the thought of hearing her pity me still made me wince. But I owed her at least a hello. I hadn't forgotten the little tantrum she'd thrown when I'd avoided her last time.
I shook my head out of my thoughts. She sang now, too – tunelessly chirping as she kneaded bread and sorted through spices, pouring them delicately onto the pale, formless lump and giving it structure and taste. It took me a moment to recognize the song.
"Oh, it's lovely to give your love a single perfect rose,
It's lovelier still to do the same not wearing any clothes!
Oh, it's lovely to abandon all your cares and fears and woes…"
I joined in for the last lyrics, grinning ear to ear as she turned in surprise, then returned my beam and joined me. Our voices rose in unison, absurdly cheerful in a place like this. Even the hound joined in, howling tunelessly along.
"It's lovelier still to do the same not wearing any clothes!
Yes, sir, it's lovely not to wear any clothes!"
We both broke down in laughter, pealing through the stone walls, high and ringing and wonderful. Only when we'd gasped back our breaths and wiped away our tears did she wave me over to her side.
"Dusty! Aw, I missed you! Come here, c'mon, c'mon!" She pulled me in for a one-armed hug as with the other she continued to knead the dough, glancing over me to check on the loaf already in the stone oven. My mouth watered – I smelled thyme, sharp cheese, roasted garlic all melding in perfect harmony. For an alchemist, the unison of ingredients was always a skill to be admired, especially when it created something delicious. "How're you, hm?"
Relief, that she didn't pry or tut over me. And more – relief that I could still laugh, still be silly, even after everything. My shoulders slumped in the hug before she pulled away. "I'm alright." My nose twitched. "Well, I will be if you give me a slice or two of that. And you?"
"Well, Vicente's gone, so I'm just perfect." She must have noticed my look of surprise, giving me an impish grin. "Well, not really gone – old codger's just out on work for a while. But it means I can cook whatever I want!" She spun merrily, giggling all the while, golden curls bouncing. "Without him glaring at me like I'm his next meal. Oh! And look at the puppy!"
She abandoned her work to kneel by Luke, rubbing under the scruff of his neck and earning enthusiastic, almost desperate kisses. Poor thing. After all, Netta was the first one to really lavish him in love like that. "Ohh, what a good boy! Hello, doggie! I've heard about you, yes I have! Who's a good puppy? Who's a good doggie-doggie, hm? Oh, I'm so jealous!" A dramatic sigh and she rose, wiping saliva off her cheek and – I breathed a sigh of relief – moving to wash her hands. "Have you named him yet?"
I waded through her chatter, managing to dig out the important bits while placing my basket of potions on a nearby table. "Luke."
"Luke?" She frowned, button nose wrinkling. "That's weird."
I rolled my eyes, voice dry as parchment. "Shadowdog doesn't have the same ring to it."
Another flutter of infectious giggles, leaving me helpless to do anything but giggle in response. I joined her at the table, barely catching a final lump of dough she threw at me. "Here, be a darling, won't you? I could use a hand. Got to get these all done before that bloodsucker gets back!"
I stripped off my gloves and began to tame the dough, stretching and folding it into submission as she threw in a handful of chopped, dried peaches to her own loaf. I bit my lip in thought for a moment before tossing in a sprinkling of rosemary and sea salt.
"Remember when you first got here and we cooked the pies? I knew you'd be a good assistant chef the moment I saw you."
"Alchemist's prerogative." I grinned, slapping the dough down even as inwardly I hesitated. It was so – so comfortable to see her like this, to work side by side and laugh and sing. To see her as just a girl, cooking for those she loved.
As a sister.
I swallowed hard, gaze focused on my work even as I spoke. "… Netta?"
Unaffected by my change in mood she continued to knead and roll, occasionally throwing a tidbit – a nut, or a piece of dried fruit – onto the floor for Luke to gobble up. "Mhmn?"
"How did… I mean, why…" I pursed my lips, searching for the right words. "… How did you end up in a place like this?"
"You mean the Sanctuary?" She began shaping the dark loaf in her hands. At my nod she giggled. "Well, the obvious way, silly. I killedsomebody. A few somebodies, really."
"But…" I exhaled through my teeth. "Why?"
"Because they deserved it!" She skipped over to put another loaf in the oven, grinning ear to ear. "Look, I get you're not so good at this. It seems wrong, from the outside." She continued at my nod. "But sometimes it's that simple. Somebody's alive, and needs to go away. That's the business part."
If this is what Vicente had hoped would convince me, it wasn't working. "It can't be that simple. Why did you kill? Why do you – like killing?"
She paused, floured hands raised from the counter. A beat, two as she seemed to lose herself in thought, eyes downcast to the table. Her sigh seemed older than her, decades older. "… Have you ever felt powerless, Dusty? Just completely lost and helpless?"
I thought of being dragged here in the first place, though it seemed so long ago. Seeing my blood stain the handprinted page that bound me, being underneath Bellamont in the snow with his hands wrung around my throat. Tears threatened as the thread of thought continued – reaching pointlessly for maman, knowing she was gone. Kneeling by Phillida as his blood drained away.
The only place I hadn't felt helpless was the shrine. Was I simply too lost from my senses to care, then?
I nodded.
"It's the worst feeling in the world. And the Dark Brotherhood makes it so I don't ever feel that way again, anymore." Her tone became more businesslike, two powdery fingers raising. "One, they give me work. And I like my work. I know that sounds awful to you," she continued as my lips parted, "But it's true. It's an art, it really is. And I'm good at it, and it makes me know I'm strong. That I don't have to be afraid."
My mouth had long gone dry, throat hoarse. "… And the second?"
"Two, they give me a Family. People who love me and take care of me, and I do for them, too. We work together and keep each other safe."
"But…" I sighed through my teeth in thought as she moved now to the oven, pulling two loaves out steaming hot to put in another two. "Wasn't there – something else you could do? I mean, look! Killing isn't all you're good at, is it? It's not all you like. You could've apprenticed to a baker, or…"
Her laughter wasn't laughter at all, not really. She shook her head, giving Luke an idle pat in passing as she moved to start cleaning up the table. "Oh, Dusty. You're so naive. Nobody was going to take in some half-starved, flea-ridden girl off the streets. I mean, I couldn't even read until Vicente taught me. Nobody wanted me." Her gaze softened, a smile turning her lips and dimpling her cheeks. "Until the Speaker – theListener now - came for me. He was the first person who was really kind to me, who told me I had a future."
Lucien. I could almost imagine it, how honey-sweet his words must have seemed to a lonely girl on the streets. "… You don't feel used?"
"They used me, the people out there." She jerked her pointed chin upwards, to the streets above us, then handed me a broom. "Here, help me clean up. Look – I'm sure it sounds awful to an outsider, but there's nothing else like it."
"Murdering," I murmured, beginning to sweep as told. A little nod from her, lips pursed.
"It's not like I hold a grudge against every contract or something. That'd be dumb. It's not about hate or revenge. It's about power. That's something you've gotta learn, Dusty." A sad note crept in, pity in a way I hadn't expected. "The world's cruel. You have to hold on to what power you can get, or it'll eat you up."
"But they can't all deserve it." Part of me wanted to stop arguing but I pressed on anyway, stepping over Luke to sweep around him on the floor. "It isn't – it isn't fair."
I looked back, at her laugh. That sharp, crackly sound, the little shake of her head. She really did think me naive. "Life isn't fair. Haven't you been listening? It wasn't fair that my auntie used me like a slave, or what those guards in the prison did to me. It wasn't fair that the rest of the world saw me starve and looked the other way." A harsh, bitter note, so strange a contrast to her usual chime. "Why should I care aboutfair?"
I kept my gaze to the floor, now. Unable to understand but ashamed to have brought it up, to have made her remember things I could only imagine. Another sigh. She came in close now, tilting her head down to try and meet my gaze with a little smile.
"… You're sweet, Dusty-doo. You wanna help people, I know. But you've gotta help and protect yourself, or you'll never make it. Yourself, and your Family. That's what the Brotherhood does for me. They could do it for you, too, if you'd become one of us."
"I don't… want to hurt people." An echo of what I'd told Vicente.
"It's not so hard, y'know. You might even like it. It makes you feel powerful, feel safe. Makes you feel – free."
Freedom. Lucien said I craved it, and in an awful way, maybe she had a point. Power to decide one's fate meant freedom. And what offered more power than power over others, down to their very lives?
"Just think about it, okay? Hey," her voice had regained its usual warmth, a grin on her lips as she took the broom from me. "Little ickle Dusty-poo. If you wanted, I could teach you! You could be my apprentice. Like a little sister!"
Relief now things felt more back to normal, relief for an excuse to drop the subject. I gave her my best withering glare. "I'm at least a year older than you."
"Doesn't matter." She pointed her nose in the air, strutting away. "It's about experience. And you can't get mad at me just 'cos I'm more worldly and still have my youth."
"You - ! " I moved to smack her with the bristled end of the broom, leaving a mark of white on her bottom, only to receive a handful of walnuts in my face for my trouble. We wrestled for the broom, Luke hopping excitedly around us and barking, almost cheering us on. "I'll show you youth – "
"Like to see you try! Lookit, you're making a mess!"
"The rolling pin's no fair!"
"Whadid I tell you, sister?" Laughter and the smell of fresh baked bread sang through the Sanctuary once more. "No such thing as fair!"
But it seemed a fair enough trade that for my company she gave me a loaf, speckled with berries and wrapped in a cloth to stay warm. More than fair that she didn't hold my prying against me and sent me off home with a swat on the bottom and a kiss blown goodbye.
I walked through the chilly morning now, milling through the streets crowded with people going to their work for the day. Losing myself in thought, only absent-mindedly pushing the cold wetness of Luke's snout away from the basket. Fair.
No. Life wasn't fair. And freedom, power – gods, those were tempting ideas. But not at the cost of an innocent life. There had to be another way. There had to be.
My thoughts strayed back to the shrine and lingered, even as I devoured my breakfast –damn,that bread was good – and set up shop for the day. Only when my first customer came in did I resurface, giving my merchant's smile.
"Good morning! Can I help you find anything, dear?"
Not often someone younger than myself came through, but the girl looked sixteen, eighteen at the most. Red-haired and speckled with freckles even after a sunless winter, a burlap sack over her shoulder. "G'morning, miss. The Stablemaster wanted t'pick up some liniment and… and…"
As she looked at me strangely I frowned. Did I know her from somewhere…?
"You!" Only when I heard her voice in a shriek did it become familiar. "You're – you're the one what stole the horse! It was you!"
I felt the colour drain from my face into my feet, suddenly leaden. The girl. At the stables, when I'd run off to Kvatch, shit - "I – I – "
"Guards!" She flew to the door, swinging it open to shout outside. "Guards, guards! Thief! Help! I need a guard here!"
Oh, shit.
Within minutes my little shop was swarmed, two guards flanking the girl glaring at me with arms crossed. An accusing finger lashed out from her as they panted, demanding explanation. Luke, to my relief, stayed back in the kitchen – it wouldn't help anyone if he tried to take a guard's throat.
"Couple weeks ago, it was, she stole a horse from my master's stable! She just – just hopped on and rode off, like it was nothing!"
"I can explain – "
"Is that true, miss?" The guard gave me a withering look, like he expected me to deny it. I swallowed hard, hands in the air, giving something between a smile and a wince. After all…
"Er… technically?"
Blinks of surprise all around. I cleared my throat and made a point of keeping my hands up, away from the knife on my belt. "Please, I can explain – it was an emergency, and – "
"Emergency nothing! Stealin's 'stealin." The girl pouted, raising a sharp chin as one of the guards approached with manacles clinking. I winced as they ensnared my wrists, cinching tight and immediately attacking me with an enchantment – drain magicka. Shit, shit, shit. "And I got beaten blue and garnished wages by the stablemaster 'cos I didn't stop you! It isn't fair."
A twinge of sympathy for the girl, and yet I had to laugh. "Life's not fair." The guards, unamused, led me outside into a small curious crowd that had formed, shooing them out of the way and explaining the process to me. I'd get my chance to explain to the warden but, for now, I was under arrest.
Poor Luke followed me to the door, but no farther, whining pitifully before I shooed him inside. At least they were kind enough to let me lock up shop, and spotting Telaendril in the crowd, I knew he'd be alright. Now, whether or not I would be…
I could only laugh.
Life isn't fair. But it sure as hell has a sense of humour.