When Lena woke up in her house in Bravil, Lucien was still sleeping next to her, still holding her in his embrace. She could hardly believe what had happened, yet there he was, breathing softly into her ear, enjoying a wraith-free night, just as she had enjoyed hers. “Where do we go from here?” She thought, trying to imagine returning to the Sanctuary, seeing them all again, but in what capacity? As their Speaker’s mistress?

That thought made her sit up. Lucien turned over and woke up too.

“Good morning,” he said softly. “Did you sleep well? You look worried.”

“I… just need to work some things out,” Lena smiled at him. “Speaker.”

“Speaker?” He sat up too, facing her. “After all we’ve been through together? And I don’t just mean last night.”

“Yes, after all we’ve been through together, and because of that, perhaps…” Lena hesitated, then leaned onto him and kissed him. “I have no regrets… I wish…” She didn’t know what she wished for, exactly. Her confusion was plain to see.

“Alright, take your time… Assassin,” Lucien stroked her hair. “I’m always here for you, remember that.” Lena nodded, yet looked away. “I mean it, Wolf,” Lucien said in her ear. “As your Speaker and as your friend.”

Did he say the right thing? He hoped so. He didn’t want her to be his mistress, she was so much more than that. He wanted her to return to Cheydinhal, to take her place as his Silencer, she would answer directly to him, she would be coming to his fort, they would talk, they would finally get to know each other without the assassins and the wraiths… But how to say it all? He wasn’t sure. She was less than half his age, she was too young for him… or was she?

It seemed neither of them wanted that day to end, that space between the madness of the hunt for the traitor and the new, ordinary phase in their lives. They took time brewing coffee, they shared a meal and a bottle of wine after that, and they spent another night like the one before.

Eventually it was time for Lucien to leave. As he hugged Lena goodbye, he had a sudden feeling that he would not see her in a very long time. He kissed her but said nothing, then he left.

Lena watched him walk towards the city gates of Bravil, then returned to her house. She felt strange; her heart was still beating, she was changed yet she was still the same… Her heart would slow down and stop before long, life would return to normal… She could hardly remember what “normal” meant.

She got dressed and went out, she would take a walk to clear her head. As she walked out to the shore of the Niben Bay, a strange new island attracted her attention. She was sure it wasn’t there before. She cast a spell and crossed the water towards it.

The island had strange plants and colourful mushrooms and a glowing gate in the middle shaped like a head with three faces… “What madness!” She thought, grinning.

“Stay back!” A guard approached her. “This is a dangerous portal! Perfectly normal people go in, crazy people come out! Here’s another one – watch out!”

A strangely dressed Bosmer came out of the portal, looked around in bewilderement, pulled out a dagger and attacked the gaurd! It didn’t take long and he lay dead.

“What did I tell you?” The guard bent over the Bosmer. “It’s madness! You better stay back.”

“But where does this lead?” Lena was looking at the portal in fascination.

“Come and visit!” A voice sounded from the portal. “The Shivering Isles are beautiful this time of year!”

“The Shivering Isles?” Lena looked at the guard. “Where is that?”

“Beats me,” he shrugged. “I’m only here to warn people, not to hold them back. You’ve seen what it did to this Bosmer… The choice is yours, and I’ll be here in case you come out like that…”

Somehow Lena was sure that she wouldn’t come out like that. Nothing could possibly beat the last two or three years of her life… She went in.

…

“Please sit down, I don’t have all day.” A balding Breton in a peculiar suit was sitting at a table in what looked like an office. Another chair was facing him across the table, and he gestured Lena to take it. She looked around, but there was really nothing more to catch her eye. A metronome on the table was measuring out time – tick tock tick tock… She sat down.

“What is this place?” She asked the man.

“It is an entrance to My Lord’s realm, the realm of Lord Sheogorath. You may enter, if you wish.”

“If I wish?” Something was odd about him, besides his suit. “What was that portal?”

“That portal was a door,” the man answered, stifling a yawn. “You were outside, then you entered, and now you are here, amazing, truly. There is another door behind me, that one leads into the realm proper. Or you could go back the way you came.”

“Am I to choose?” Lena still could put her finger on what exactly was so strange.

“Please do, I have other business to attend to. The anticipation is almost palpable…”

“That Bosmer went crazy, he attacked the guard.”

“Then he was ill prepared to receive My Lord’s blessing.”

“But what will happen to me?” Lena was finding the conversation most entertaining.

“Who is to say?”

“I am going in.” Lena got up from her chair.

“My Lord will be most pleased, I am sure,” the man got up too. “And mind the Gatekeeper, he doesn’t actually let anyone in… unless they are ready…”

He cast a spell and vanished, and the office dissolved into a hundred butterflies at least…

“Beautiful,” Lena thought. The portal was still glowing behind her, she could now go in and out, it seemed, so she ventured into the realm proper…

…

Lena’s stay in the Shivering Isles turned out to be a long one. She felt right at home in the land where people didn’t have to be “normal” and where almost everything was permitted. Prince Sheogorath was a most charming host, and Lena soon found herself embroiled into a crisis in his land… She did not mind, she welcomed something to do and a reason to delay her return to Cheydinhal and her “ordinary” life in Mundus.

She was delaying it, and she was missing it at the same time. She returned to Mundus often enough, and even went to Cheydinhal once or twice, but stayed outside, only watching people going in and out. She saw Telaendril resume her weekly trips to Leyawiin, and Vicente slip out of the city at night, she went to Fort Farragut a few times but never entered. Something was keeping her back, and she couldn’t say what it was.

The Mages Guild still had assignments for her if she wanted them, and they were always keen to buy Welkynd stones or other rare finds, and so one day Lena found herself going through a difficult ruin near Cheydinhal. She finished the job, but just as she was leaving, she was attacked by a lich that she hadn’t seen coming. The fight was brutal, she won, but only just. She was famished, too… it was strange how those things came together. When she finally stood outside, she breathed a sigh of relief… and got attacked again, this time by a bandit. “Will it never end?!” She screamed, jumping back. Three bandits were coming at her, they saw her heavy pack and wanted her loot. She dropped the pack and vanished, circled them from behind, attacked, got one down, but the other one had a heavy warhammer that hit her hard… She fell. Another hit would smash her skull into pieces…

She twisted away at the last moment, jumped up, lunged at him, aiming for his heart… and missed, her dagger sliding off his iron breastplate. She sliced at his thigh instead, and he finally dropped to his knees.

In the tumult the third bandit grabbed her pack and tried to run off, she saw him and sent a frost ball, he stopped, dropped her pack… the rest was easy.

The sun was about to rise, she would burn before long. She checked the bandits – two dead, one still alive, the guy with the warhammer was wounded and bleeding, and she was glad that she had missed his heart. His blood stilled her hunger and she could resist the sun.

She sold the Welkynd stones to the mages at the guild and brought a few other bits to Borba, but her main finds had to go to the Arcane University in the Imperial City. She didn’t have a horse and she was too tired to travel. On a whim she went to Fort Farragut.

Shadowmere wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and Lena hoped that Lucien wasn’t in. She lifted the trapdoor and took a peek, but the room appeared empty. She descended the rope ladder, a year or more since the end of Purification. She walked around the room, finding it unchanged. The Dark Guardians were pacing further in the fort, the usual distant noises filled the space, the scents of food and alchemy hung in the air. “He still comes here all the time,” Lena thought. “Of course he does. Life has gone back to normal.”

She walked over to Lucien’s bed and put her head on the pillow. The same familiar scent hit her nostrils, bitter and sweet at once. She closed her eyes. She was so very tired… The fights of the last few days caught up with her and she fell asleep.

…

When Lucien entered the Sanctuary after the resolution of the traitor business, he found Ocheeva on watch. She turned to the sound of the Black Door opening, her sword drawn, her legs poised for a jump.

“Ocheeva! It’s over,” Lucien greeted her and she relaxed. “The Purification order has been rescinded! Whom have we lost?” He spoke gravely, expecting a sobering answer.

“Lucien!” Ocheeva smiled. “Good tidings at last! We… survived, somehow.” She didn’t seem to believe it. “We’ve got wounded, but last time I checked, they were still alive…”

In the dormitory Lucien found most beds occupied, with several people unconscious, or nearly so. Antoinetta was changing bandages, wounded herself.

“Speaker!” She looked up. “We are still holding… but for how much longer… I cannot tell.”

“It’s over, Antoinetta.” He gave her a hug, and she blushed. She was still so young… “You’ve survived. You persevered. Now you need to recover.”

She couldn’t find anything to say… which must have been a first for Antoinetta, Lucien smirked to himself. She looked older than last time he saw her, their ordeal transformed her. Her eyes were no longer sparkling with mischief. “Let’s hope some of it will return later on,” Lucien thought.

He did a round of the room, spoke to those Brothers and Sisters that were awake, then went to see Vicente and Ocheeva. He was back, and things had to be seen to.

“Your primary task now is recovery,” he was looking at Vicente and Ocheeva in turn. “There will be no contracts until people are back on their feet. The Listener transferred some funds… Borba should be paid with interest,” he added, looking through a ledger with all the unpaid deliveries that she had made. “See to it.” Ocheeva nodded.

“What of Wolf?” Ocheeva thought that Lucien was avoiding the most important topic.

“She is alive,” he looked up. “She will be my Silencer… I haven’t told her yet…” He hesitated. Vicente’s expression was closed, but Ocheeva was looking concerned.

“If you lose sight of her now, she will run away and not return for a very long time,” she said, looking at him with significance. “You must find her.”

“Or allow her the freedom to run away,” Vicente finally spoke. “She stood by you all this time, her loyalty is not in doubt. Perhaps she is simply not ready…”

“Not ready for what?” Ocheeva shot him a glance.

“Exactly.”

They were not going to spell it out, it was his decision. He felt however that chasing after Lena was the wrong thing to do, that it would convey the wrong message. Perhaps Vicente was right – she was not ready… and neither was he.

It’s been over a year since the Purification order had been rescinded, and the Sanctuary was functioning as normal again. They were receiving contracts, including high level Silencer contracts, which Lucien mostly executed himself, or occasionally passed them on to Vicente or Ocheeva. He refused to appoint another Silencer even though Lena was absent.

“The Night Mother will have to decide,” Ungolim shook his head. “You need a Silencer! One that is present! I understand your sentiment regarding Wolf, I do, believe me…” He looked at Lucien and smiled. “But a Speaker needs a Silencer, so you’ll have to pick someone else!”

But Lucien kept refusing, and when Ungolim eventually brought the matter before the Night Mother, he was surprised at her response.

“It is up to him, do not press him,” she said. “She is alive… she’ll be back with us some day. Lachance does not want to replace her, so be it. He is to be given the usual load of contracts, regardless of whether his Silencer is present or not.”

And so he was busier than usual.

One evening he was returning to Fort Farragut when he noticed blood on the trapdoor. He cloaked in chameleon and entered as quietly as he could. Lena was asleep in his bed, she was wounded, a heavy pack with some ancient finds was dropped against the wall. She’d been through a ruin, but it wasn’t easy…

Lucien decided not to wake her up. She did not appear famished, so he bandaged her wounds, making sure again to use lavender in the dressings. She came back to his fort… but not to the Sanctuary… perhaps she wasn’t ready yet. Very well, he would wait for her.

He left the following morning before Lena woke up. He stopped by Borba’s shop, it was time to furnish his fort for two people… his old cot was no longer good enough. Borba nodded, copying over the list into her ledger. The Speaker’s quarters deserved some comfort, she thought.

…

It’d been another year or more before Lena came to Fort Farragut again. She was being chased by beasts and men both, she was hungry, yet stayed out in the sun, her skin was burning, she was losing blood… She shook off her pursuers and slipped through the familiar trapdoor…

She found the room transformed. Better furniture, more comfort, a double bed instead of a cot… Was Lucien receiving visitors? And why shouldn’t he? Perhaps now, that the Purification business was well in the past, he could finally relax? Lena walked around the room. The furnishings were different but the essence remained the same. The same scents of food and poisons hung in the air. The same stock of frost salts and potions stood by the stone bath. Perhaps there were more bandages… but otherwise all remained the same. She breathed a sigh of relief – there was no scent of a woman.

This time Lena made use of the dressings and bandages before getting into bed. She was still famished, but she had to rest first, besides it was daytime. She hoped to leave before Lucien returned.

…

In the following years Lena kept coming to Lucien’s fort every now and then. Sometimes she was wounded and needed a place to hide from the sun, other times she was merely in the area and briefly entered and left. Once or twice she saw Shadowmere there, the saddle covered in blood, and Lucien was inside, collapsed from his wounds. She would bandage him up and leave before he woke. It was a dance they did, both knowing when the other had been there, yet never meeting face to face.

Five or six years later Lena finally learned that vampirism could be cured. She did all that was needed, and it wasn’t a simple task. Then she got the potion. “It will make you mortal again,” the witch told her. “Be careful not to die.”

Lena had such high hopes for this… She would have her life back, she would no longer be shunned, she could regain her place in the world… she would have a heartbeat again! She drank the potion. The transformation was brutal and she passed out.

When she finally woke up, the first thing she noticed was that she did have a heartbeat. The potion worked! She was mortal again, she did not crave blood! She ran to the mirror to check that her eyes regained their colour…

She froze. An old woman was looking back at her. Her eyes were amber… but everything else was appauling. Her stooped posture, her wrinkled, droopy skin, her hair matted and hanging in patches, her joints swallen, her collar bones and ribs protruding like on a skeleton… Her face was still gaunt and her skin looked grey. Her heart fell. The witch never mentioned the price of mortality.

After the transformation Lena didn’t go to Fort Farragut for many years. She could not stand the thought of Lucien seeing her like that. But she missed him, and after a time she decided to visit. He wasn’t there, but the room was unchanged, she breathed in his scent once again, left a potion on the table and vanished.

As appauling as she found the look and feel of her mortal body, she got used to it after a time. The swallen joints didn’t hurt all that much, and people in the Shivering Isles long got used to the way she looked. People in Mundus however still shunned her, often taking her for a beggar and chasing her away. The glory of the Champion of Cyrodiil proved very short lived indeed.

One day she got into a fight near Cheydinhal, someone decided to be forceful in chasing away an old woman. She resisted and killed them in the end, but not before getting deep cuts all over her body. She went to Fort Farragut thinking to take an ice bath.

She entered and found the room empty, Lucien wasn’t there. She sighed a sigh of relief and filled the bath, removed her bloody clothes and submerged. She closed her eyes and allowed the cold to stop the bleeding, not worrying about her heart stopping again.

On that occasion Lucien was at home. He had cast chameleon when he heard the trapdoor, and when Lena entered, he realised that she hadn’t seen him. Not a vampire any longer, she could not smell him if he stayed back. He decided to stay hidden.

It wasn’t the first time that he’d seen Lena after her transformation. He knew that it aged her, and he did not care, but he wasn’t prepared for the full extent of the damage. When Lena undressed, he was shocked. She looked like a skeleton, not like a woman, and she was only in her thirties. He understood why she was staying away.

She went to sleep in his bed when her wounds were no longer bleeding. He bandaged her up. She had a heartbeat, but her body was cold after the bath. He stayed with her as she slept and saw her leave in the morning, but never revealed that he was there. She knew it of course, but said nothing. The dance continued.