Dim, dirty light, streamed through a beam of rusted bars. The air is thick and sickly, stinking of filth. I can't move. Irons around my hands, chaining me to a damp floor, hardly able to suck in a breath for the air around me. Help. I mewl, raking my nails down the stone. Help. Help.

Be a good girl, he says, beard twitching. And I'll let you out.

No. The word escapes my lips before I can snatch it back. No. Never.

Then He is gone, and I'm alone again, and why isn't maman coming? Help. Help.

"Dust?"

I awoke with a gasp, cold sweat in a sheen down my skin. I dragged my palm over my eyes, blinking away grit to meet Bolor's dark gaze. He sighed, resting his long fingers on my brow. "Just a dream, apprentice. There are potions that can help, you know."

"I know." I mumbled, groaning as I pulled myself from bed. Gentle snores came from all around us, Bolor's face shadowed and strange in candlelight. "Maman always said dreams are important, though. What are you doing here?"

"Came to talk," Bolor said simply, hoisting himself onto my bed. "I couldn't sleep, either. Bad dreams. Comes with the territory. For you, though." He smiled wryly, sweeping a lock of hair from my eyes. "Perhaps the wine just sat badly with you. Quite a celebration, eh?"

"Yes." I laughed, half-heartedly, the dream forgotten but its bitter taint still lurking on my tongue. "Nineteen, now. I don't feel any different."

"Oh, it'll catch up with you." Bolor murmured, a secret amusement in his eyes. "But not yet. You must have been born under the Serpent, yes? It haunted the sky, last night. And that would explain the dreams." He continued at my nod. "A certain fascination of mine, the firmament. The Serpent - most blessed, and most cursed."

"I suppose." It did seem to make sense, my life always seeming to be barreling between two extremes - joy in the poverty of High Rock, misery in my stepfather's mansion. I sighed, curling my legs beneath me and smoothing my nightgown over my legs. "What about you, then? What were you born under?"

"The Lover, of course." Bolor smirked, a little twitch of a smile and a gleam in his eye that always made me laugh. "Charming and graceful, handsome, kind..."

"And humble," I cut him off with a grin. "Generous. The necklace was a fine gift." I fingered the thin silver chain around my neck, feeling its tingle of magicka. He had given it to me after our little celebration, after splitting a bottle of wine beneath my dearest friends under the stars. Tar-Meena seemed caught between amusement and exasperation at it, and I mimicked her gaze as I met Bolor's eye. "The Lover. How old are you, then?"

Bolor stiffened, indignant. "I'm afraid that is none of your concern, my dear Apprentice." He chuckled, taking the simple silver chain between his fingers, his knuckle brushing across my throat. "You look lovely in this. It is enchanted - the same effects of a protection spell."

I grinned. "Don't change the subject, old man."

"You little - " He cackled, gently pushing me onto the bed. I closed my eyes, trying to laugh quietly as the snores and rustles around us grow louder. I caught my breath as he moved over me, smiling down at me as he idly played with my necklace. He paused, eyes dark and far away. "Isn't it odd? Don't you burn easily, with such pale skin?"

"I - no, I don't. I mean, I do, but I..." I faltered as he dragged his finger along my throat, sending a sweet shiver through me. "I don't - never noticed." By the Nine. When did it get so hard to breathe? His free hand slid under the small of my back, his lips curling at my hitch of breath.

"So soft, too. Reminds me of the women in Morrowind. They slathered creams of Cliff Racer droppings on their hands to keep them smooth." He laughed, his breath hot and tickling my cheek. "Ah, listen to me ramble. Happy birthday, Dust."

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice trembling. I'd never been this close to a man, and his smile, his touch... "I. Um. I..."

"You are lovely when you blush." He grinned, moving his hand to cup my cheek, thumb brushing over my lip.

We were silent, for a moment that felt like an eternity. Caught in a strange web of honey-spun sweetness, something I had never felt but felt utterly natural. I sighed as he relaxed gently on me, his smile crooked.

"You should thank me properly for the gift, you know."

I blinked, confused and aroused and by Talos his hand trailing down my stomach felt nice. "It was a birthday gift."

"Yes, I suppose it was." He raised a brow, laughing in his throat. "Then allow me to put it this way - I'll give you another."

He pulled me up to him, just slightly, and crushed his lips to mine. I panicked inside, because dammit I didn't know what I was supposed to do, but our noses fit perfectly together and his hands moved over my hips. He tasted strange and mortal, his smell simply soap and smoke and fire and hope and... and...

I whimpered in my throat, closing my eyes tight at his laugh, as he deepened the kiss and urged my lips to part. His hand slid lower, and stopped, his breath sweeping down my neck as he moved away with a sigh.

"Ah, Dust." He smiled wryly, laying a gentle kiss on my brow. I bit my lip. Why did he stop? "I should get to sleep, and so should you. This should remain between us. Mages and Apprentices are not encouraged to - interact."

So that's it? I gulped, sitting up proper as he moved away. He must have caught the sadness and confusion in my gaze, because he smiled, giving a kind laugh.

"We aren't finished, however. I expect we shall continue our lessons in the near future." His fingers swept beneath my jaw, brushing away. "Good night, Apprentice."

"...Good night." I whispered, watching him leave to his own quarters, listening for the telltale creak of the door upstairs. I released my breath when it closed, collapsing onto my bed, gazing blankly above me. Wow.

If I hadn't felt nineteen before, I certainly did now.