What were you thinking?

It was just after dawn when we parted, him to the Fort, me home to sink against the door behind me. Weak at the knees, shivering, still disheveled and not quite ready to believe I hadn't dreamed my bravery the night before. Luke whined and joined me on the floor, pushing his snout against my shoulder as I stared up at the ceiling.

I was thinking…

"I want both."

There it was. Blue and Lucien both warned me away from it – that I could have either my freedom or the Family but dammit all, I wanted both. Or at least, I wanted to have the choice of both, having myself and –

And having him.

"You live for freedom, and I am your warden."

Only if I let you be.

The thought burned, both hot with determination and cold with fear. Could he see me how I saw myself? Last night, was that a sign that I could change his view of me? Back in the swamps after he became Listener, he had said this was my reality.

It wasn't mine. It was his. He saw me as his prisoner, and the only way we could move forward, the only way I could make him understand, would be to prove him wrong. Not out of spite, like going to the cavern for the guild, but to prove I could be free, be myself, and still return to him unchained.

Hah. Thank gods I didn't tell him about the gang. He'd never let me walk free again.

But what do I do?

"Pbbth!" I sputtered through one of Luke's kisses, snickering and ducking down into my shoulders as he tried to get to my ear. "Lukey!"

A boof. I stood, stretching the stiffness out of my back. "What do you think, boy?" I eyed him with a tired grin. "What do you think I should do?"

Another bark. I blinked as he raced off, claws clacking up the stairs. A moment of shuffling, then the clicking returned as he trotted back to me, looking somehow smug with a mouthful of – cloth?

My satchel. Still stained on the bottom and clinking gently with shattered glass – I'd salvaged what I could, but the bag itself was beyond rescue. He dropped it at my feet before staring up with tail wagging, panting.

"… You're right." I almost forgot, sometimes, what he was. The message was plain as day, and could have come from maman's own lips. "One thing at a time, hm?" I needed to replace it. A simple errand to keep me from getting lost in my own head. He arched his head up for scratches as I giggled, thanking him the best way I could until he groaned in contentment and sank down for a nap on the rug.

I needed to get some fresh air. To do something frivolous and light to snap out of this turmoil, to be able to think, and I knew exactly who to do it with.

I rebuttoned my blouse and combed my hair with my fingers, determined to go before I lost my courage. But the walk there holding my breath was for nothing – I saw no sign of Ocheeva as I wound through the Sanctuary, walking tip-toe quiet as I could manage. Only Teinaava saw me, giving – was that a smile? – a look, at least, before I crept into the dormitory.

A blonde head, barely visible crowning the bundle of blankets on the bed. I bit back a chuckle and sidled up, whispering.

"Antoinetta…"

For once, the tables had turned. It wasn't the younger girl prodding me out of sleep, or following me around – for once I was coming to her. She gave a groan and yanked the blankets up over her head, burying herself into the pillows as I poked her with a grin.

"Netta…" Sing-song and silly, still a bit dozy from my late night. "Nettaaa! Wake up!"

"Mmnf!" She rolled over at last to face me, lips twisted in a barely-awake scowl as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes. Her words, a jumbled, groggy growl. "Go away! Lemme sleep!"

"Sorry, can't do that." Faint memories of doing this to Anya so many years ago made me snicker as I stuck my chilly hands under the blankets, making her jerk and yelp.

"Oh, your hands are freezing!"

"I'll take them off when you wake up."

"Don't you have a bloody shop t'be running? Or some idiots to heal?" The last note was sour with resentment. "Gitoff!"

"I've closed shop today." A proper day off, no customers, no special projects, no heartbreak or confusion. A clear head, at least for a little while. "How's your shoulder?"

"Mmngh…" Another groan and at last she began to wake up properly, flopping on to her back with a sigh. I made room, shifting back on the bed, half-cuddling as she lifted one arm gingerly in the air. "Better, I think. Vee said I can't, you know, climb or fight or anything like that yet, but at least I'm not bedridden."

"Good, because we're going shopping."

A cornflower blue eye opened, suspicious. "… We are?"

"Well, we're going to have to, aren't we?" I grinned as she sat up, yawning and stretching. "I need a new satchel, and you need an excuse to get some fresh air." We both did, but I wasn't ready to get into the why that would inevitably come if I said that. "We could get pastries, stop at the bookstore, the tailor…"

Her squeal of delight would have shattered windows, if we weren't underground. I had to muffle my own laughter. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a lump in another bed roll over, growling, then a flash of white and a sudden whump as a pillow hit the side of my head.

"Shut up, you hairless, squeaking apes!"

"Sorry, M'raaj-Dar!" Antoinetta cooed over her shoulder, turning back to me with a sunbright grin, eyes twinkling. "So! What's for breakfast?"

It was early afternoon by the time we'd finished the first leg of our adventure. I forgot, sometimes, how wonderful it could be to just soak in city life and all it had to offer. To throw a little coin at silly fancies, flitting from one colourful distraction to the next. We stopped by the tailor and cooed over dresses, lingered at the bookstore giggling at tawdry romances. Netta pulled her purchase out of her bag now as I licked the last crumbs of a sweetroll off my fingers, snickering.

"I can't believe you bought that awful nonsense."

"It's not awful! It's romantic." she sighed dreamily, clutching the book close. I'd taken a glance – some sappy, melodramatic tale of star-crossed lovers, flowery and utterly shameless in its veneer of story. "Knights and princes, quests and romance! And the men are always so – so charming, so proper."

"None of the men in town suit your tastes?"

"No." A pout, but there was still a wicked glimmer in her eyes as she poked me in the ribs. "You took the only good one!"

I mustered a grin, fighting to keep those bittersweet thoughts of the night before at bay. "Well, I can't speak for princes, but nobles aren't all they're cracked up to be, anyway. At least, not the ones I met."

"Like the count's son?" She fluttered her lashes, lilting her voice to mimic mine. "Oh, your grace, thank you ever so much for freeing me!"

"Hey!"

"How can I ever repay you?" The sickly sweet cooing continued as she arched her back to stick out her bosom before changing winds with a grin. "Oh, let me think – I know! I have this beautiful, golden-haired sister I could set you up with…"

We laughed together as we walked, until finally she fell into a thoughtful silence. Her gaze flickered to mine, seeming to work up her courage until she at last found her words.

"Is it – is it really like that? In High Rock?"

"Sometimes. Not always, but – sometimes." I frowned at her beside me, her suddenly melancholy expression. "What are you thinking about?"

"I s'pose – I'm just curious, you know? I hear things from Vi – from our other friend, but he was there ages ago. You grew up there. I guess I like to know about where we came from."

I slowed, looking at the top of her golden head as she rested it against my shoulder. Moments of vulnerability had shown through before, but she always seemed so sure of who and what she was, never struggling with identity like I did. She loved her work, bloody as it was, loved her Family and her place in it.

But she hadn't always had that. So much was different about the two us, despite the closeness we'd developed. I was – or had been, until that night at the ruin – so uncertain about who I was and where I was going, entrenched in where I'd come from. She never even knew her parents, her people.

How strange to look on the family ties I'd cursed so often as lucky.

"It's very – it's different than Cyrodiil, in some ways, certainly. Kingdoms and city-states, instead of just cities and regions. Lots more little villages, too. Politics are a nightmare…"

"But are there really knights? Dashing knights and royalty and tourneys and – " A long sigh. I chuckled and nudged her head up.

"Sometimes. Not everywhere. But it's really a lot more tedious than it sounds, I promise."

"I've read about it before." Another sigh as she clutched at my arm. "It sounds so romantic and stupid, I love it. Vicente said I should read the historical texts, but I get so bored. I don't want to know when this-or-that Duke won some skirmish, I want to know the fun things!"

I eyed the book in her hand, sure it would put The Lusty Argonian Maid to shame. "You can't trust everything you read." At her pout I sighed, rolling my eyes. "But yes, there's some of that. There was a boy at a local tourney, once, whom I gave my favour…" I mimed offering a handkerchief, lifting my chin as Netta gave a scandalized gasp. "And he immediately got knocked on his arse."

"Hah! Oh, I wish I'd seen things like that." Her eyes went distant again, quiet and sad. From what I knew, she'd grown up like maman had – an orphan on the unforgiving streets of the Imperial City, forgotten and unloved.

I bit my lip, and on a whim circled an arm around her to give her a gentle squeeze. "It doesn't matter where you came from, I think. What matters is what you…" I echoed the words of the dream, softer."… What you're trying to make. Of yourself, of your life. Of where you're going."

Her eyes lit up, then she put on a purposeful look of innocent confusion. "We're going to the General Store."

We giggled all the way there.

The shop was in an older building, creaky and filmy and dark, only letting in cracks of sunlight through oppressively heavy curtains. I'd been here once or twice before, not often enough to really know the shopkeep well. Still, she looked oddly familiar as she rounded the counter –

Oh.

I did know her. Not from those purchases, months ago. Only weeks ago she, too, had been at the party. One of the other Orcs of the smuggling gang, and from the flash in her eyes, I wasn't the only one making the connection.

"Well, well." A throaty chuckle as she leaned her back against the counter, giving a wide smile with eyes lidded. I swallowed hard, willing myself not to shrink. I'd scared off their pet mage. I wasn't about to be pushed around by her, either. "What can I help you girls find?"

Out came that noble bearing Antoinetta had so sighed over. I spoke coolly, polite but controlled, my best way to keep a grip on the fear and anger that threatened to bubble up. "Just a leather satchel, please."

"Certainly." She vanished to the back for her stock. Netta tugged on my sleeve, whispering with a knitted brow.

"What's wrong?"

"Later."

She returned shortly, setting the bag on the counter as I pulled out my purse. Better to get this over with, fast as possible. She named a price and I begin to count, only slowing at her interruption.

"Haven't seen you since you first came to town and opened shop." Her smile alone might have been polite, but her eyes made it an examination. A subtler threat than her colleague, more insidious. "You know, we ought to talk more. Maybe we can do business, a referral deal or something." Her eyes gleamed. "Important to keep in the good graces of other merchants, isn't it?"

The hot creep of annoyance edging up my neck risked melting my cold composure. Still, I did my best. A deep breath as coin traded hands and I took my new satchel, meeting her gaze. "Only if a merchant relies on another's work for their benefit."

A moment of silence between us, of locked stares. Then, with a nod, I took my satchel and walked out as elegantly as I could manage, only letting my shoulders slump when we were well outside the shop and back on the street.

Antoinetta kept pace, face twisted in concern as she rounded ahead of me. "What was that all about?"

"Just – some business disagreements, you know." I put on a smile, but it withered fast in the face of Netta's pointed glower.

"You're still a really, really bad liar." A beat. Her eyes narrowed, making me shrink. "… Wasn't she at the party?"

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

I bit back a sigh. Dammit, I'd wanted to avoid this today, just for one day. And more than that – I wanted the Brotherhood as uninvolved as possible. If I ever wanted to prove to Lucien that I didn't have to be imprisoned, prove I could stand on my own two gods-damned feet, make my own choices and still return to them…

But Antoinetta had been at the party, too. And if this somehow fell back on her…

"Let's…" I mulled over my limited choices. "Let's go have a late lunch, at my place." At her look I continued. "… We can talk about it there."