The Sanctum of Vivisection was a place that Sheogorath was usually apt to avoid. Such was the case for the current version of the Mad Lord and such was the case for many versions before her. There was nothing truly wrong with the place (if there had been, the mad god would have lingered) but her issue was more so with its inhabitants. To be specific, the one inhabitant that was technically alive.

Sheogorath sat at the stone table within Relmyna's bedroom with a pleasant smile, and tightly crossed legs. Haskill was somewhere off in the other room busying himself with pointless things that only he seemed to take interest in. Across from the Daedric Prince, Lady Relmyna Verenim twiddle lightly with her thumbs, the stench of nervousness radiating off her in waves.

This whole little setup was all at Relmyna's insistence, as she'd demanded to spend some personal time with the Lord in exchange for her more lucrative services. Had it been any other person, on any other day, Sheogorath would've had half a mind to decline such an offer and yank their tongue for even the mindless suggestion. But since the gatekeeper was acting wonky, and all of her dearly beloved siblings were acting angsty, the Isles demanded the extra protection.

While she cared little for most of the isles' inhabitants, a Daedric Prince was hardly anything without a realm to rule over. Just ask poor Jyggalag.

She took a small sip of the tea laid out before her and smiled sweetly. "How has your day been, sweet Relmyna?"

Snapped out of her stupor, the woman took a quick glance up to meet the face of her Lord and sat up proper. "It was quite fine, but now immensely splendid now that you're here."

"I am flattered." said Sheogorath. "I have read the letters you sent me, is Nanette's apprenticeship going well, dear?"

The word "dear" seemed to light a blazing inferno in the Dunmer's eyes, as the blood rushed directly to her cheeks. She could pass for one of Dagon's if she kept that up.

"They go well, my love." Relmyna took a sip of her own drink

"And our child?"

Sanguine would be absolutely delighted at the use of pointless flattery. Perhaps he'd even give her some tips.

But the mention of the child seemed to sadden Relmyna. She frowned into her teacup and took a shy peek over the edge to gaze into the eyes of her Lord. Tears, unbidden, leaked from her eyes.

"He is hurt, my love," She said. "It seems the flesh was impure. An oversight!" She placed her head in her hands as she wept. "A foolish, impertent oversight that may cost us the life out dear child!"

Sheogorath reached over the table to pat the Dunmer's arm gently. "Now, now, Relmyna. Do not weep dear, as the tears make a mess of your perfectly, morbid face." Her hands grabbed hold of the woman's wrist and with a small push, she parted her arms to look into her red-eyes. "Even should he perish, there is always another to be created."

Relmyna sniffed. "I suppose you are right."

"Aren't I always?" She walked over to the other side of the table and grabbed the woman's hand to bid her to stand. "Now, how about you go the Gardens of flesh and bone and fetch the materials for the birth of our new child. I will stay here and—"

A loud boom echoed throughout the dungeon. Relmyna jumped backwards, burying herself deep into Sheogorath's chest. The Daedra didn't have the time to push her away, not as Haskill came strolling through, a most bland expression on his face.

"My Lord, you have a visitor."

Sheogorath tsked and narrowed her. "Haskill, I thought I told you to keep nosy little rats out of the dungeon. Did I not? I would despise it if I had to transform your skin into a new rug."

Haskil bowed. "Forgive me, my Lord. However, I am not able to get rid of this particular rat as he is of divinity." The last word out the chamberlain's mouth gave Sheogorath an very strong inkling of just who was requesting her presence. She scrunched her nose in distaste. "He is insistent that you meet him this very instant."

"The lord does not listen to you, fool," Relmyna hissed.

Sheogorath moved the woman to face her. Sad as it was, she couldn't neglect this particular problem lest he end up blowing a hole in the side of the Sanctum. The last time it happened, her dear daughter screeched when she saw that half of the castle's apothecary had been reduced to a sad clump of ashes and smoke.

Gently, she cupped the Dunmer's hands with her own and held them close to her heart. "It is sad dear, but I must depart for the sake of the realm."

Sadness swept over Relmyna's expression, but it was quickly overtaken by anger. "You promised—"

With a snap of Sheogorath's finger's, Relmyna had no mouth to speak off. The Dunmer grabbed useless at what should've been one of at least three large holes in her face. She stared at Sheogorath in horror and betrayal.

"I hate to do it dear, but you leave me no choice. A Lord, such as myself, can tolerate no disrespect. Lover or otherwise." Sheogorath strode towards the door, which Haskill quickly opened and held for her. Before exiting, she gave Relmyna one more polite smile. "Do not worry, you will get to hear your own sweet voice soon. In an hour. Or a day? Perhaps an evening. In any case, ta-ta dear!" She waved and left the woman to grab uselessly out her own mouth.

As soon as the two had completely exited the Sanctum, Sheogorath let out a loud, overly exaggerated sigh. She turned to look at her chamberlain.

"Where is he?"

"Passwall, my Lord."

"Well then Haskill," She said. With another snap of her fingers, the pair had been transported to the gates of the Shivering Isles. The current Gatekeeper looked curiously at them, before returning to his own business. "Let's get this over with."

"Look here! The Lordess of skooma addicts and bards finally graces me with her lovely presence." An annoyingly boisterous voice echoed off the tavern walls. Shelden, the ever cautious yet proud mayor, immediately jumped from his seat and practically ran out the tavern door at the first sight of the Mad God. Sheogorath paid him little to no mind as she stood at the doorway, arms crossed and expression sour. Haskill calm and collected at her side.

Sitting at the bar, looking proud, drunk, and not a bit regal, sat the Divine Talos. For the last couple of hundred years, he's been the resident thorn in her side, along with her dearly beloved brother Jyggalag.

"Lord Talos," said Sheogorath. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

The Divine rolled his eyes. "Oh don't be like that Sheo. I'm just here for a little talk."

"That is all well and good. But the last time we had a little chat, I do remember that I did something afterwards," she said. She placed a hand on her chin as she pretended to think. "Yes, I do remember that I forbade you from ever entering the Shivering Isles again. As long as I do exist, I remember saying."

"And how would I ever see my lovely grandkids?"

Sheogorath raised an arched brow. "Such is not my issue. If you're so desperate for the pathetically lovely company of your fellow Septims, then go invade Auri-el's realm and beg him."

"You're as pleasant as an old maid." grumbled the Divine.

"And your company is as lovely as dear Jyggalag's during a Greymarch." Sheogorath smiled, her teeth bared for the Divine to see. "If you do not feel like taking your legs and waltzing out of your own accord, I am perfectly capable, and very much willing, to do what I did to him to you. "

The Divine brushed off the threat with calm ease, which only served to sour the already soured mood of the Daedric prince. "Now, Sheogorath. I didn't come here to brawl with you."

"Oh? Then please do enlighten me on your true reason."

"First things first, you need to buy my grandbaby Verona new clothes, you neglectful wench," Sheogorath reminded herself that socking the man in the face would only lead to him lingering longer. "And secondly, you're back chatting with Kyne again, ey?"

"I don't have a clue in all of Nirn pretty realms how either of those very personal issues are your concern."

"Aye, but they are," Talos responded simply. "One by blood, and the other by association," He took a sip of his drink and eyed her. "Watch yourself around the woman. She's got a grudge that's older than you by millennium. "

Sheogorath laughed. "Oh, I am perfectly aware of that. Might I say, Lord Talos, that you must be watching yourself as well. Not just around me, but also around your very nervous Divine companions. I hear it's tremulous right now in Aetherius."

"That it is. But as above, so below."

"Then I suppose we are on the same page. Such is why I need you to waltz yourself right out that door behind me, before Mara figures out that it wasn't just Sanguine who defamed her temple in the cheery little city of Riften a fortnight ago," Sheogorath said, reveling in the way the Divine physically stiffened at the threat. "Oh, I do hear from Sanguine that the punishment was agony—"

Talos stood up from the bar. "Aye, aye! I get your point, skooma cat. But here this," The Divine walked up right to her. It was almost comical in the way he attempted to tower over her, she knew damn well in life the man would've been at least an inch shorter than her. "Whatever foul plan you are trying to retch out won't bring the boy back to you."

The smile on the Mad God's lip faded immediately. Silently, behind the pair of Daedra and Divine, Haskill braced himself for his Lord's sudden change in temperament as the air in the tavern developed an unnatural chill.

"Do not." Sheogorath said.

"You know it's true, Sheo," Talos replied. Even he could feel the decrepit cold reach into the tavern like gnarled fingers, feel the rage in the air like a bomb awaiting a firelight to its fuse. The moodswings of the Mad God were a terrifying sight to behold, even if you knew you could withstand them. "If the boy were given to you in exchange for your services, think about how he would react to what you did. Would he be proud of what the woman he loved has done in exchange for his life? Would he still love you?"

Would he be able to love you at all? Hung in the air as an unanswered.

Something like the sound of wood splitting, echoed throughout the enclosed space. Haskill looked over to notice a large crack, starting from the wall and ending at the middle of the floorboards, right where his lady was standing. He made a mental note to order the Mazken to patch it up in the evening. He'd hate to leave behind a mess.

"I say this only once more, before I rip your throat out and use your spine as a new walking cane. Before I forget our standings," Those yellow eyes glowed dimly with barely restrained rage. "Leave."

And Talos walked past her to do just that.

"I'm being honest, and honesty is as much grace as I can give the mother of my grandkids. Lately, Kyne and Akatosh have been at each other's throats. Keep in mind what the old woman has lost before you associate with her as the time dragon is bound to know," he gave her a rough pat on the back as he walked out the tavern door, brushing past Haskill who sidestepped to move out the Divine's way. "You are cunning, but the Divines have become ruthless, not too different from your folk I assume. Keep your wits about you."

That gentle warning rang in Sheogorath's ears as the doors to the tavern closed. In an instant, she could feel the Divine presence leaving her realm. She did not rejoice however. The conversation left a most foul taste in her mouth, as though she had eaten the heart of an imp.

On the tip of her tongue, she still tasted starlight as waltzed underneath Secunda's light. Soft hair held between her fingers, a soft smile dedicated only for her.

She hated it. She loved it. She knew. She didn't know.

She lived. He…

It was all too much.

"Haskill?"

"Yes."

"Cancel all the other appointments I have today. Deal with them yourself if you so wish and make a mess of my realm, my impudent Chamberlain," she said. "If you require me so, I shall be in the mortal realm. You know where."

"That I do, my Lord." Haskill said.

"Then I shall see you at dawn tomorrow. Goodbye."

And with that she disappeared. Haskill, sighed.

"What a mess."