Juniper awoke with a groggy head and heavy eyelids.
She couldn't recall exactly how late she had stayed up the night before, nor how long she had slept for but the sun was high in the sky and streaming through her window. She sat up in hed bed and rubbed her tired eyes.
The conversation with Darthin last night was somewhat entertaining. Her brother had caught her sneaking home in the early hours of the morning.
He had promised not to tell their parents if she brewed him a potion of invisibility.
She didn't ask why, though she knew exactly what for.
They knew each others' secrets and kept them to themselves.
She told him the tale of her encounter with his friend, and they laughed over two mugs of hot broth.
He returned a story of what he'd gotten up to that night— far more exciting and bountiful than her woodland escapade.
He had given her a jeweled ring. Emerald encrusted gold that glittered and brought a smile to her face.
Secrets were secrets and business was business, so she accepted the gift without further question.
Juniper looked out of her bedside window and noticed her brother outside, hands in pockets, chatting to who else but Felnyx; one hand holding a tobacco pipe and his other arm around a fair buxom Bosmer with beautiful buttercup curls.
Juniper scowled and closed her curtains.
She grabbed her own chest— or what there was to grab and her shoulders sank.
Pushing her tiny breasts together she failed to create a hint of cleavage.
The Bosmer growled with jealousy and put her head between the curtains once more to scowl at the sultry mer hanging onto Felnyx.
None of the three saw her, so she lifted her hand and gave an obscene gesture.
Juniper crawled out of bed and changed into her alchemy robe, avoiding eye contact with the skinny flat-as-a-board girl in the mirror.
She left her bedroom and headed into the empty kitchen.
Mother was undoubtedly still in bed, and father was away in Cyrodiil fighting for the Imperial Legion.
The thought of him never returning was harrowing, but it brought them an income.
Juniper skipped lunch, packed her satchel with a mortar and pestle and left for her grandmother's house.
—
Wendolin was hunched over a kettle of bubbling white liquid, humming an old Bosmeri tune to herself whilst stirring the pot.
The room smelt of musk. Heavy and sickly. Herb racks, jars and pots were stacked neatly on shelves dotted about the room.
An open book lay on the table. The pages dusty and crumpled, some stained and singed with the recipes barely readable.
The ageing Bosmer strode over to check the tome, her large eyes skipping over the text.
She furrowed thinning brows and mumbled something in a language unknown.
Steps were heard down the hallway; heavy and angry.
Wendolin rolled her eyes and slammed the book shut, quickly sliding it into the drawer beneath the table.
She cleared her throat and clasped liver-spotted hands together, awaiting her guest.
The kitchen opened and slammed shut as a stroppy Juniper marched into the room.
The young elf threw her satchel onto the ground and took a seat at the table across from her grandmother, saying nothing.
She rested a cheek on her fist and pouted.
Wendolin pulled up a chair and watched her youngest grand daughter in silence.
Juniper huffed and puffed, and finally the elder Bosmer spoke up.
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
Juniper said nothing, but crossed her legs and gave Wendolin a quick glance, then lowered her eyes back to the table.
Crows feet crinkled as a wisened smile grew across her thin lips.
"You're positively green"
Juniper slammed her hands on the table
"GRANDMOTHER!"
Wendolin chuckled.
"My precious little Juniper berry, I'm old"
"That doesn't make you a mind-reader!"
Juniper bumped her elbows onto the table and buried her face in her hands.
The grandmother shook her head.
"You always come to me when there's something wrong or you're out of Nightshade"
"I don't like touching it with my hands! It could poison me!"
"What happened to those gloves I gave you?"
"They… Got a little bit burnt"
Juniper let her hands fall down onto the table.
"And the pruning knife?"
Juniper cocked her head towards the satchel lying on the floor
"Still got it. I carry it everywhere with me..."
She gulped, recalling the night before. It was nearly gone for good, had Felnyx not found it.
Wendolin bowed her head. The clock above the mantlepiece rang a tune, and gave three loud chimes.
She rubbed her hands together excitedly and skipped over to the kettle.
"My potion has finished brewing!"
She sang, and slipped on a heatproof glove, taking the kettle from above the flickering fire.
It was placed on the table filled with white and runny liquid which smelled like sour milk.
Juniper pinched her nose.
"Gods, grandma, what is that?"
Wendolin scooped and stirred the brew, grinning proudly.
"It's for a friend."
"Are you trying to kill them off?"
She wafted the air in front of her face.
"No, it's medicinal. Let me tell you a valuable piece of information, little berry; if it smells foul, it's going to work."
"And what's wrong with your friend?"
Wendolin tapped the spoon on the side of the iron kettle and spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone.
"Her husband is dying. I told her to just let him go, let nature take it's course, but she begged me."
"That's awful!"
"Death is inevitable, Juniper."
Wendolin was silent for a moment. She looked her grand daughter directly in the eye.
Her face dropped and a vein bulged in her temple.
She sucked in her lips before continuing, her voice became disturbingly grave.
"And don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Juniper was silent and reflective, taking in what her grandmother had said.
She had read about undeath. Mostly vampires, draugr, restless spirits.
Never could she fathom that what Wendolin was about to tell her would change her far in the future.
For now, the lesson blew right over her head.