Author's Note: Again, thank you all for the support! :D I'm a bit slower now since I'm back in college, but I assure you I haven't lost interest in telling Dust's story. As always, the reviews I receive inspire me greatly. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to a friend of mine, Dusty the Umbravita. Thanks for all the support and awesomeness!

I crouched near the cool water of a spring, dragging my fingers idly through the burbling water. A week to travel - a week, if we could move well, to Bravil. We wanted to push ourselves, push ever forward, but our bodies began to drag, our poor horses slowed, then finally refused to move. So we rested.

At least, most of us did.

I gazed upward, giving a slow breath that turned into a white fog, drifting to the starry sky. It was peaceful - almost pretty, really. The others were asleep, and I had a moment's respite, a moment's solitude. I wanted to sleep properly, to close my eyes and drift away, but the jittering thoughts in my mind wouldn't allow it. I shifted uncomfortably, scooping up some of the water in my palms to splash my face. We were all still bloody, still sore and aching and filthy. What a luxury it would be, to strip off here and bathe, even in the cold. And to get rid of the stench of burning flesh, clinging to my body…

I stood and stripped, letting my filthy robes pool around my feet and folding them on a rock. My boots, my gloves - one by one I placed them all carefully by my side until I sat naked, gingerly dipping my toes into the cool, sweet waters. Lilies lay undisturbed on the water's surface, only a trickle of water not far off feeding the spring. I caught a glimpse of my reflection - the pool was dark and seemed to swallow it after only a moment. Only the reflections of the stars remained. With a quiet sigh I let myself slip in, dipping my head back. Cold, but it felt good. Stripping away the grime and the sickly feeling that had clung to me since I saw the traitor's charred face.

"Dust?"

I jerked, looking over my shoulder and almost screaming at the dark silhouette before recognizing the shape of Lucien's robes. "Wha - oh. I - I didn't know you were awake." I went to cover myself before remembering as he slowly approached, as the dark holes where his eyes had been came to form again. He moved cautiously, as thought testing every step before taking another, following the sound of my voice.

"I am now." He inclined his head, frowning. "… I hear water."

"Th-there's a spring. Just a second, I'll…" I stood, trying to splash as little as possible, my cheeks burning. If he knew I was…

Lucien's expression changed, his brow quirking, lips flattening into a tight line. "You're bathing."

I stilled. "Um."

"In the middle of the night, when the rest of us are sleeping, in a hostile environment with wolves and boars and Sithis knows what else, you felt it was wise to have a leisurely bath." He spoke dryly, carefully lowering himself to the ground nearby to sit while scoffing. "Women."

"You'd bathe too, if you weren't a stinking Imperial pig." I scowled and immediately regretted my words. I'd meant it jokingly, but with his robes still dirtied, face crusted with dry blood, any mirth was drained.

"Of course." Lucien scoffed, shaking his head. I couldn't entirely prevent myself from covering up as I stepped out of the water, tossing my robe over my head, not caring that I was still wet. Idiot, you should have been watching, not bloody trying to take a bath. I chided myself, sighing and smoothing down my robes, buckling on my belt and slipping my bare feet into my boots. I grasped for something to say, anything.

"My toes really are webbed, you know." I wiggled them before kicking my foot to make the boot shift around the first foot. I gave a quiet laugh, lifting my foot towards him. "See? …"He raised a brow, the holes of his eyes shadowed , and I cringed. Idiot!

A snort. "Very tactful, pet."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. He gave a small, mirthless smirk as I studied his face. He's acting. His gaunt face, bloodied and scarred, the grizzle on his jaw laced with black where blood had dried. I bit my lip, unbuckling my water skin and dragging it through the pool. "…Let me wash your wounds. It'll help prevent infection."

"Hmph." He grunted, leaning back, lips pressed tight before nodding. "Fine." Wordlessly he began to pull his robes off his body - I gasped, half expecting him to be naked, before blushing - he wore pants underneath. I sighed, dragging a hand over my face before opening my pouch and pulling out a clean cloth. He startled a moment after I brushed it against his face before growling, his expression - as much expression as he could have, without his eyes - settled into one of annoyance.

Blood. So much blood and grime and fluid caked onto his cheeks, beneath the hollows of his eyes. It came away in black flakes on the damp cloth, streaking away. I followed the contours of his once handsome face - his chin and jaw, grimly set. His cheekbones, his proud nose, his thin lips. Small, thin lines carved into his flesh over the years. I frowned, tilting my head - I'd never wondered about his age before. He looked both old and young at once - the face of a man life had tried to beat, time and time again.

"How old are you?" I squeezed the cloth before dipping it again in fresh water, smiling at his scoff.

"Old enough. Perhaps old enough to retire, at this rate."

I frowned. "You don't look that old."

A quiet laugh. "My age isn't the problem. What use is a blind man to the Brotherhood?"

I froze.

He continued on, unnervingly calm as I moved to wash the scars lacing his chest and back. "I cannot fight - perhaps after years of training, but I doubt I would survive that long. I cannot travel alone, now. I cannot even write. I am a lame dog."

"Don't talk like that."

"I imagine I will be put down as such. It would not be the first time we have made such sacrifices." His lips turned, a grim smile. "Don't fret over it, pet. I shall let the Night Mother determine my fate. I will do what I must for the Brotherhood. At the very least, that will prove I am no traitor to all. I will not drain our resources."

"Stop it," I hissed, pulling away the cloth, glaring sharply. "What, you're just going to - give up?"

"Give up?" He scoffed. "No. I'll die with dignity, that is my plan. I - "

I don't entirely remember doing it. Only the moment after, his face marked red, my hand stinging. I swore, grabbing him by the shoulders while he impassively sat. "You bastard, you cowardly bastard, I did not come all this way with you so you could just die with dignity!"

"It is not cowardice." His voice lowered to a growl and I shivered. "It is practicality. I will make what sacrifices must be made, including myself. A lame dog slows down the pack. I will not allow myself to become that, I will die first."

"You'll die for pride!"

"I will die -"

I slipped my hand into his hair, tugging him close without thought. "Shut up, Lucien." And I kissed him as hard as I could.

Time passed, and we remained like that. He met my kiss with equal ferocity, then overpowered it, dipping my head back and forcing me to the ground, his hand sliding to lift the small of my back. Neither my mind or body protested, this time - I yielded under his weight, dragging my fingers over his cheek as he pulled away, smirking.

"Odd tastes you have, pet. A man with no eyes."

"I'm not letting you die." I scowled, refusing to let his laugher and smirk weaken me. "I don't care about pride. I don't care what the Dark Brotherhood says, what the Night Mother herself says.."

"Hrm." He tilted his head, and for a flickering moment I almost felt as though he gazed at me, could see the tears in my eyes. "And why is that, pet?"

I had no answer.

"We…" I faltered, moving my hands from his body and grabbing his robe, offering it. "We should get back to camp. Before we freeze."

"Fair enough." He fumbled with the robes for a moment before managing to pull them over his head, giving a weary sigh. "Go to sleep, then. Blanchard will awaken soon - I must speak with him."

"So you can name him your successor, something like that?" He remained silent. He walked alone, without aid, over the smooth rockshelf back to the dying fire. I growled, stalking after him, grabbing his shoulder. "Lucien - "

"Enough." There was no anger in his voice, only a cool calmness. "We will have plenty of time to argue on the way there. I shall be sick enough of you without you badgering me every night."

"…Fine." But I pulled myself close again, wrapping my arms around his waist. Embracing him - embracing Lucien, the murdering, charming bastard. I would have laughed if it hadn't felt so natural, so right. "But I'm not letting you die, not after all this. I've worked to gods damned hard." To my surprise his hands moved over me, resting on my back - to hold me closer or to possess me, I couldn't tell which, didn't care.

"We'll see, pet." Dry lips on my brow, a smirk pressed against my skin. "We shall see."