"Wake up, my pet."

"Grrzzzh." I snored into my pillow, delving into warm fleece to smother Lucien's voice. "G'way."

"Up." My blankets were roughly tugged away, leaving me curled into a ball for warmth, my eyes squeezed tight. "Your mother is waiting for you in the kitchen.

None of this truly made sense to me. All I knew was that I used to be sleeping, and that this bastard had woken me. "Sod off!"

"Mmm." Magicka tinged his words, buzzing in the air. A blast of pure ice ran through me, jarring me out of slumber. "I will repeat that little spell until you are out of bed. Up."

"Fine." I stumbled out of bed, wincing as my toes met old stone. "I'm freezing now, you git."

"I can see that."

It took me a moment to realize what he meant. Then I realized exactly what he meant. I crossed my arms, snatching my robe from the floor and slipping it over my head. Should've just slept in it. My cheeks grew hot as he watched me lazily, obviously amused by my little embarrassment. "Quite a lovely underdress. Suits you."

"It's mum's. She loaned it to me." I gave a sweet smile, feigning innocence as he frowned. "WIll you be joining us for breakfast, Monsieur Lachance?"

"I doubt there will be much of one." He swept away, dark robes trailing behind as I kept up. I was becoming used to these halls, the dim light, the constant scent of wax melting and old stone. Mum sat at the table in the kitchen, Talaendril seated at her side. They seemed - friendly. Old, dear friends. Mum grasped the Bosmer's hands, smiling warmly.

"Before you go, Talaendril, I can't tell you how much I've missed this. How much I - " She glanced up, beaming as I met her gaze. "Ah, Dust. Cherie, this is Talaendril."

"We've met." A chill shivered across my skin as she swept past me, pausing before Lucien and giving him a small bow. "Speaker. It is an honor, as always."

Lucien smiled, something strange and almost proud glittering in his eyes. "I trust you received your letter of promotion, Talaendril?"

"Yes, Speaker. Words cannot express my gratitude. I must ask your leave, dear Speaker - my duties call."

"You may leave. Dread Father watch over you."

The Bosmer left without another word. Mum stood, raising a brow at Lucien as he met her gaze. "Ever the leader, eh, Lucien? I must admit, I never thought I'd see the day you'd be addressed as Speaker."

"Doubted me, old woman?"

I scowled. "She trained you, didn't she? Shouldn't she - outrank you, or something?"

Lucien grabbed a pear from the cupboard, tossing it over his shoulder and giving me another of his smirks as I fumbled to catch it. "The Unholy Matron rewards loyalty, and she doesn't hold onto past glories."

Mum scoffed. There was something strange in the air, something I couldn't place between them. I shifted uncomfortably as I ate. "You needed me, maman?"

"Yes, of course. I can't have you sitting wearing that robe anymore, it's filthy." She grimaced. "I'm going into town to pick up some things for you. Is there anything else you need?"

"My robe is fine, I washed it yesterday. And I see no reason why I can't go with you."

"...Lucien will show you the laboratory." Mum ignored my question, pursing her lips. "I should get going."

"Mum - gods dammit." I cursed as she swept away, out the door as though she'd never heard me. I turned my gaze on Lucien, glowering. "And if I'm going to be working, I need ingredients."

"We've plenty. I'm a bit of an alchemist myself, you know." A cool smile, feigned politeness. "Not of your caliber, of course. Follow me."

I struggled to match his pace as I scarfed down the rest of the pear, following him to a room tucked away from the rest. Bitter-smelling and musty, dimly lit by flickering candles. A desk, surrounded by jars and bags, with apparatus scattered over it and cauldron pulled to the side. Tools I knew better than my own hands.

"It has been some time since I've used it, though I imagine the family has kept it up to date. Vicente is something of a healer."

I ignored him, approaching the table, not quite happy but - but at least belonging. Amongst these murderers, even with my own mother I couldn't quite recapture that feeling, but there - there, I felt it. I examined one of the burlap sacks, filled with rosy apples. I frowned, pointing at it and giving Lucien a glance. "Another of your poisoned ones?"

Lucien shrugged, smirking. "You are the master alchemist, are you not? You tell me."

I plucked an apple from the bag, bringing it close to my lips, dragging my thumb across its skin. No trace of powder, or any type of venom. And it didn't smell of it. I pressed a nail into it, catching the sweet scent I knew. "It's harmless."

A snicker. "And how sure are you of that, my pet?"

I turned to him, frowning, then paused. A challenge? Fine. I returned his smirk, taking a hearty bite of the apple and enjoying it with relish, smiling widely. "Oh, I'm quite certain." I caught a glimpse of surprise and grinned in triumph, chuckling. "Doubted me, Lachance?"

A pleased smile, almost satisfied. "There is a list of what needs to be prepared on the table. Enjoy, pet."

I didn't hear him leave, didn't care to. There was no certainty in the walls of the sanctuary, no true, steady comfort. But leaning over a boiling cauldron or pounding ingredients to dust, that, at least, felt right. It wasn't home. But it was as close as I was going to get.