Author's Note: Thanks for waiting for the new chapter! With school on the horizon things are a bit hectic, but I'm hoping to continue this as quickly as I can. Hope you enjoy!

"It's been three weeks."

My ears perked at the sound of Vicente's voice in the hall, hands slowing on my mortar and pestle as the bitter scent of monkshood rose. For nearly a week I'd worked - not quite happy, but not distraught, caught in a strange limbo as I waited for something I couldn't name. Freedom didn't quite describe what I longed for.

"We cannot allow this to go unchecked, Lucien. Another of our sisters, vanished..."

From beyond the curtain that separated my laboratory from the hall, I heard Lucien's growl. "Marie was an experienced assassin. I doubt she could simply have been killed by her target, or arrested."

"Then you believe these rumours of treachery?"

"It seems I have no choice."

Marie? Not Antoinetta, I just spoke to her this morning. I worked silently as I eavesdropped, carefully sliding the ground plant into a calcinator. Treachery. Even amongst assassins, there are worse villains, it seems.

"And Belisarius, he didn't simply vanish off the face of Tamriel. He was a Speaker, not a common murderer." Vicente again, mild and cool. "No trace of a body, no word from him since Sundas four weeks since..."

"So the Black Hand is maimed." Lucien cursed, and the sound of footsteps followed. "There will be a meeting here tonight. With Belisaurius presumably dead, and his Silencer gone with him, a new Speaker must be named." I frowned at the scowl in his voice. "And I have little doubt as to who it will be."

A wry chuckle. "You should be proud to work with her. Abelle taught you everything you know that I didn't." Even gentlemanly, a smirk crept into Vicente's tone. "And a few things I did teach you, she taught better."

They're going to make her a Speaker? I froze, biting my tongue as the footsteps grew loud. She might - she might do it. Might stay here, forever. Leading these murderers. I jerked at the rustle of the curtain behind me, frowning as Lucien met my gaze with a smirk.

"We're having company tonight, pet. I'd like you to help Antoinetta put together something nice."

I grimaced. "I'm an alchemist, not your goddamn personal chef."

"Quite an alchemist indeed." Vicente moved past Lucien. I couldn't resist smiling - despite his gaunt, frightening appearance, I'd grown fond of him quickly. "I must thank you for the potions, Dust. Excellently done."

"Thank you." I smiled, handing him a basket of more I'd prepared before giving Lucien a glower. "You actually expect me to cook for you?"

"I expect you to do as you are told." A dark laugh. "While you're at it, Vicente, make sure to set out some of your wine for us. I expect J'ghasta will appreciate it. And inform the family."

"Of course, Speaker." Vicente gave me a small smile. They left together, leaving me with a half-prepared potion and a sour taste in my mouth. Cooking. I sighed, packing my supplies away before searching for Antoinetta.

Evening came far too quickly.

Antoinetta cheerfully tasked me as her apprentice - cutting vegetables, washing plates, monotonous tasks that left far too much time for thought and not near enough for action. But what could I do? If it was as Vicente said, if mum was being made Speaker, there was nothing I could do about it. I ached as I worked, gnawing at my lip with Antoinetta watching me carefully. I couldn't help a bitter smile. I would never have a chance to poison the food, if I wanted to - but what purpose would that serve? I would have the entire Dark Brotherhood at my throat. And mum would die from the poison or fight alongside them.

Which, I didn't want to know.

As evening fell, shadows drifted into the sanctuary. One by one, men and mer in robes of void black assembled around a table in Vicente's quarters. Mum joined them. Antoinetta and I worked in silence. I managed to hold back a shudder as I poured the ruby wine into goblets, only daring to meet mum's gaze for an instant.

"Good wine, Vicente, as always." A Khajiit purred, sipping from the goblet I'd filled before gazing at me through heavy-lidded eyes. "And a serving wench? Pretty thing, for a human." I scowled, face prickling hot with embarrassment.

"I'll thank you not to talk about my daughter that way, J'ghasta." Mum murmured, thanking me gently as I finished her own glass and pulled away. I dared a glance around the table, at the faces. Vicente leaned against the wall, not quite part of the circle, but belonging. Lucien and mum - I swallowed a lump in my throat. Three mer I didn't recognize, a Bosmer amongst with his hands intertwined and lips pursed. Sharp, cold eyes, proud and cruel and so much more powerful than his appearance could describe. A Breton - staring at me. I caught his gaze for an instant, a cold thrill prickling my skin before I tore my eyes away.

"You are dismissed." The Bosmer spoke. Antoinetta bowed, face flushed, before garbbing my arm and pulling me outside, shutting the heavy door behind her.

"The Black Hand." She whispered, eyes wide. "The whole Black Hand, except the dead one - what are they doing here?"

"...I don't know."

"Goblin's balls, I don't want to be around here." She shivered, frowning at the split smirk on my face. "What?"

"Goblin's balls?"

"Shh!" She tugged me further down the hall, barely muffling a giggle. "I have to get going. There's a man in Bruma waiting for a stuffed minotaur to fall on his head." A wicked smile that quickly turned cool. "You'd better go somewhere else. You don't want to be caught snooping around here."

"...Okay." I watched as she left, wringing my hands and glancing down the dark hall once more. I could barely catch the whisper of wordless voices.

...Mum.

I crept back down the hall, creeping towards the door. I want to know what's happening. I bit my lip, swallowing fear and gently pressing myself against cool wood. I have to know.

A small voice protested - what did curiosity kill?

I didn't listen.

"Too long... no word... dead... named..."

The Bosmer, his voice calm, but powerful. The voice of a ruler. I frowned, pressing myself closer.

"Another... Abelle... suitable..."

"Honor... Listener... accept... humbly..." I shivered, biting my tongue until I tasted blood at the sound of mum's voice. So different, from what I'd known - from the voice that scolded me and sang lullabies.

"Robes... Speaker... welcome... Sithis... ritual..."

They're going to make her one of them. Lucien's earlier words rang in my head. The Black Hand. Whole again. And she wants to be, she wants... bitter bile climbed up my throat. I gave a shuddering breath.

"Honored Listener... excuse...return..." Vicente. I listened hard, barely catching the sound of footsteps. I gasped, falling back and managing to crawl out of the way of the door before it creaked agape. Vicente stared at me hard, grabbing my wrist and jerking me upwards as the door again squeaked shut.

"What, let -" I cursed as he dragged me down the hall, tearing my arm away. "Let me go!"

"Enough." Vicente hissed harshly, eyes flashing bright red as he turned on me. "Any other outsider would die for what you just did. You are fortunate it was I who caught you. If your heart was beating any louder, they would have heard it, too."

I flushed, gritting my teeth. "Why are they making her one of them? She - she - "

"She will make her own decisions as she sees fit." Barely controlled anger seethed in his voice. "You are an outsider, Dust. It is a blessing - perhaps a curse - you have been tolerated thus far. Do not endanger yourself so foolishly again." His eyes narrowed, scowl softening into a strange smile. "I would have expected better of you, but you are your mother's daughter."

"And I want to know what's happening." I protested even as bitter shame coiled in my belly. "I just - Vicente, I don't want this." My voice grew hoarse. "I just want to know - and I don't know anything. I hate being this, this helpless."

"...I know." I shivered as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "But you must be patient. Listening to things not meant for your ears will only get you killed."

I gave a shaky laugh. "Words of wisdom? 'Patience is an assassin's greatest virtue?' "

A fanged grin. "Perhaps."

"Then why do you get to be in there?" I retorted, feigning indignancy. "I thought it was only the - the Black Hand, whatever it's called. Speakers." I paused in thought. "But - you were a Speaker, too."

"I was. And perhaps I will return to that position, in time. When I grow weary of dealing with obstinate underlings." A gentle laugh. I smiled crookedly as he smirked, brushing my chin with a cold finger. "Go."

I turned, wringing my hands. Underling. Like Antoinetta? But outsider, too.

Bitter, amused, terrified, mingling emotions brewing inside of me, a concoction I'd never imagine. And this twisted family making it. I laughed half-heartedly, a bitter smile on my lips even as I curled up in my bed, mind swimming.

Goblin's balls.