Shit. I haven't forgotten, I swear. In fact, I have a good few chapters already written. I tend to lose and regain interest, though, and I also get nervous about the direction I need to take Dust, as I realize many readers probably came for the DB related content and as it tapers off, may lose interest. Anyway, anyone who's still reading, holy crap thank you and also I am so sorry.

My head was a fermented melon, overripe, bursting and bruised, ready to explode with agony. I groaned, then stiffened, both hands making way to my face, searching. It – it really was. Where was my nose? My eyes, my lips? I couldn't speak without my lips, couldn't tell anyone the truth. What truth?

You're drugged, something rational in me whispered. The mad honey, you're hallucinating.

Slowly my hands fell to my sides and I relaxed, resting the sore back of my head against cool stone. The world before me swam, a mess of dark and light, smudged save pinpricks of light. I tried to follow them, to see what they were, but the moment I focused they flitted out of my vision. My hands were numb, tingling but numb. Lips, too. I stretched out my fingers one by one, ensuring they were all still in place.

"Sweet, isn't it? So sweet, the honey, Sheogorath's gift to us. If you spoke true before, I'm sure you'll enjoy the experience."

I could only moan in response, blinking grit out of my eyes. Honey and blood – such a strange combination to taste in my mouth, caked between my teeth. I poked at them with my tongue, trying to understand. The Argonian – yes, I remembered him. He knelt beside me, head tilted, and it only occurred to me then that he had taken my chin in hand.

"Your eyes are larger, your body heats and vibrates with the arrival of His wisdom." Signs of the mad honey – dilated pupils, feverishness, twitching. "We haven't had a sister join us in a long time. I'd rather eat you. But I do as the Madgod bids me. Perhaps he'll let me have a taste. I still want your tongue."

My tongue – he was a cannibal, he had to be, threatening to eat me piece by piece. Mad, of course he was, he was a cultist, they all were. All of them – I became aware now of shapes around me, behind bars, watching me with curious eyes. They seemed fuzzy around the edges, soft like the fluff of a honeybee, making me laugh aloud. Soft – where was Luke? Soft fur, sharp teeth, blood and honey.

Dammit, focus!

There were many of them, at least a dozen. The shapes bled together, but I could almost make out the sea of faces watching me.

"Luke," I tried to rise to my feet, only to sink back down. Another man at my side hushed me, lowered me gently. "Where's my doggie? 'S not mine, he belonged to my mother. But I need him."

"She's harmless now. If the beast behaves, fetch it." The Argonian rose from me, surveying me with those gold eyes. Gold, like the honey, how hadn't I seen it before? "You're an alchemist, you said."

I nodded slowly, biting my tongue to try and bring some sensation to it. To taste it for myself. What was the appeal? I tasted only copper now. "I make potions. I heal people, too."

"We could use a potion-maker, a healer." He clicked his own tongue. What would that taste like? Someone else made use of me recently. My skills, my work as a healer and alchemist. That's why I was here, wasn't it? I was going to kill somebody. Me, harmless little Dusty, was going to kill someone.

I burst into another fit of mad giggles.

"You are from the city?"

I calmed and nodded. Someone – the man beside me, a Nord – was playing with my hair, lamenting that it wasn't longer. All chopped off, like a boy's.

"You'll be missed." He frowned for a moment. Who would miss me? Not my family, or my Family. Would they? But they'd wonder where I was. "Why haven't you accepted Sheogorath's gift?" He tilted his head again, tongue flickering. No, it wasn't flickering, but buzzing, his tongue was made of bees, didn't that hurt?

"I don't…" I tried to rouse myself, slowly shaking my head. "I can't. Maybe someday. But I can't, I've got loyalties, he said I do. I have to stay. And I'm scared."

Laughter all around me.

"Why are you scared?" The Nord playing with my hair spoke, head tilting, eyes wide and curious. "It's okay! I'm not scared."

"It's the easiest thing in the world." The Argonian linked his hands, standing upright over me. His robes swam with movement now, too, blue and wet and busy with fish splashing in and out. He was going to get me wet, and I was so thirsty… "Just ask. Call for the damn dog."

I blinked, tongue outstretched towards his robe. Images flashed in my head – black fur, big red eyes, a tongue entirely too long and drooling. And there he was, moving through the crowd and past the screech of a metal gate to run to me, covering me in slobbering kisses and whimpering. I wrapped my arms around him tight, clinging.

"Lukey? Oh, Luke. I'm sorry I've been cruel to you. You're here for me."

"Course I am, lass!"

Laughter once more. I stiffened and drew back from the hound, staring, unable to grasp what I was looking at. The body was Luke as I knew him, strong and lithe and sleek with black fur, but the head – a human head, an old, bearded man with golden eyes, tongue hanging out, cackling. The face of the stone statue in the swamps, made flesh. Laughter, so much laughter like the constant buzz of bees.

"L-Luke?"

"Not quite, lass." He tilted his head, absurd on the body of my hound. How – why? Where was Luke if not here? "But ye'll get it next time, I bet! Just remember, lass, t'call for me when ye need me. I'll be sure to come."

Cheering, laughter, screaming. Too much, too much. I was in the center of the hive, slow and sticky with honey that burned, honey and blood the world spinning. I read once that bees danced to speak to one another, were they trying to speak to me? Trying to dance? Not the dances I'd learned as a girl, restrained and formal, but wild. I tried to rise to my feet and sank again, grasping at the wall for support. The dog laughed at me, too, mocking me, damn him, damn the dog, damn it all why couldn't I think…

"You should sleep now." The man next to me spoke soothingly, softly, a voice that didn't belong in his strong body. "They take good care of me. Now I'll take care of you. We can play!"

Play, I've already lost, but playing anyway. I nodded slowly, eyes rolling, unable to fill my lungs with quite enough air. The Argonian's robe was flooding, drowning me, pulling me with an undertow into a black abyss. Truthfully, I was all too relieved to let go and sink into deep, peaceful darkness.