The mutt brought Lucien to me, days later.

I didn't join them again at the shrine in their revelry, not properly. I wore clothes again, spoke sensibly again. Piece by piece, I let fragments of memory enter me again to build a picture of what had happened. But even as I grieved, part of me felt – alive. Reinvigorated and laughing at the stupidity of it all, of how things could go so wrong, so quickly. Of my stupid luck, that I was somehow still alive. I let myself enjoy it all while I could – the colours of their little world, the music they made with laughter and screams and moans, so different from the silence I knew before. I watched the rituals and practices of the cultists, fascinated. Not quite an outsider, but no longer one of them, either.

It seemed that's how I always was, with any family. Not one of, not apart.

They were praying now, all in their own strange ways, yet united in their intonations. Feral stood before the shrine, arms spread wide.

"Blessed are the addicts, may they quench the thirst that never ebbs."

I knew of addiction, of course. I was an alchemist – such substances were part of my craft. But to hear of them as blessed offered a new, strange perspective. Hadn't I lost myself to the smoke, too? It had been so easy, to let my fears float away with it. I could name the plants now, even as I no longer inhaled them; the opiates of poppies, the psilocybin mushrooms, sweetness from a touch of moonsugar. Little wonder I'd nearly drowned myself. I sat cross-legged and ate my meal. We dined on fish again, now that I had my four-legged fisherman for help. He'd vanished, for the past day. I suspected I knew where he was, what he went to do. There seemed little point in fighting it.

"Blessed are the murderous, for they have found beauty in the grotesque."

Those words almost seemed to summon them, breaking through the thick undergrowth and reeds of the swamp. Trudging footsteps through drying mud, the trot of paws. I stared from under my bangs as they emerged, and continued to pick at the fish.

I must have been a sight – barefoot and filthy, eating with my hands off my lap, glowering like a child as the others continued their prayer. Lucien cast a brow as he sheathed his sword, leaves cut away in his path.

"Well." He held his words on his tongue for a moment. "I see you've found new friends."

I scowled even as the mutt bounded to my side, tongue lolling, moving to sit beside me. I picked out one of the bones from my meal and threw it, fruitlessly, at Lucien. It flew by his head.

"Go away."

Laughter, deep in his throat. "You wound me, pet."

I glared, jaw set. "I don't want the mutt, and I don't want you, or your family. Go away."

"And what do you want?" He surveyed me for a moment, questioning. "Do even you know?"

The Argonian ran in circles around the mutt, in an attempt to sniff his backside. Ortis ate fish eggs by the handful, and Gregory smeared himself in waste to try and attract more flies. Lucien's lip curled as he looked them over, his gaze turning sharply back on to me.

I threw another. It flew true, but he was faster, tilting his head to avoid it. That damned sight of his, those eyes he was gifted.

He was given gifts from her. I lost everything to her.

"I won't go with you."

"No? You'd prefer to stay here?" He stepped closer to me. I remained seated, jaw clenched as the hound return to my side. Lucien gazed at it, eyes lidded.

"He found me, and led me to you. He is akin to Shadowmere, a tool of the void made flesh. To – protectyou, I suspect." He smirked. "Quite possibly from yourself."

"Or to leash me to you." I spoke softly, bitterly. Did he know what had happened to me, in the tomb? Could he possibly understand?

"Any one of us would have done the same." His tone changed – not quite softer, nor kind, but no longer reprimanding. "To you, or to any other. There is no loyalty greater than that to Her."

So, he did know. How?

"She has honoured me by naming me Listener."

I threw what remained of the fish at his feet, lashing out, snarling. "Congratulations."

"Do you think your new friends would do differently? If their god – " He spoke with disdain, lip curling, "Commanded them to kill you, they would do so without question. They would do so without even the order, if the whim struck."

I winced at the sting of it, the truth. They would, I was sure of that. They were utterly creatures of their whims, of the moment. At least mother had hesitated. Maman – she cradled me, raised me, killed my father, would have killed me. A mixture of grief and hatred roiled in my gut, and I swallowed hard to hold it back. When I looked up once more Lucien was knelt in front of me, dark gaze capturing mine.

"The hound is a gift from the void, entreated on your mother's behalf." He spoke so formally, coolly. I shivered, even in the humid air of the swamps. "Would you turn away from that?" When I didn't speak he continued, taking my chin in his hand. I tried to meet his gaze, to defy him, but I couldn't. I couldn't bear it.

The cultists screamed and sang, half naked and senseless in their ritual. Full of life, as Lucien seemed to embody death.

"I'm already inside ye. Ye've already lost. But let's play, anyway."

He said I already held a spark of him, didn't he? I moved a hand to my chest, hesitating. A spark of what these people reveled in, worshipped. Something there, just as I was linked to the Dark Brotherhood. But this wasn't me, caught awash in another's tide. I wasn't bound to this like the Brotherhood by my mother's actions, or misfortune. This was more like – an invitation.

Perhaps, an escape.

For now I stood. He hadn't said as much, but I knew the terms remained, the same I'd made with the first Listener I'd met, what felt like a lifetime ago. Serve, or die.

My head cleared, I wasn't ready to die. Not at their hands, and not yet.

I kept my silence and obeyed, moving following him past the path he'd cut down through the high grasses and reeds. Shadowmere waited patiently, the hound sniffing around her hooves. His arms moved around me to take the reins.

Only weeks ago, I'd taken comfort in that. His arms around me, the solidity of his chest behind my back. He'd kidnapped me, kissed me, bedded me and saved my life.

And he would kill me, too, if he were commanded.

"Where are we going?"

"Leyawiin. I have business there." We began to move, the hound moving almost as swiftly as his mare alongside us as we made way South. I shivered at the warmth of his breath, the brush of it past my cheek as he bowed his head to murmur.

"You've made the right choice, pet."

I hadn't made any choice, not yet. But for now, I bit my tongue and let him hold the reins.