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Chapter 1 - This One Meets Weedum-Ja

She strolled into this one's establishment as if it were her own, wearing only the ubiquitous traveler's pack, a formidable war-axe belted at her waist, and the natural armor of her kind. Her scales glistened lime-green against the firelight from the sconces and the hearth, but those covering her chest, abdomen and lower regions were of a light orange hue. The contrast was striking. In the animal kingdom, such bright colors were a sure sign of danger and venom. This was not a creature born to blend in with her environment, and she did not blend in here.

In some respects, she reminded this one of himself, in a former time when his fur was sleek and his eyes bright. But her demeanor, not to mention the worn state of her axe, spoke of experience despite the obvious softness of her small reptilian breasts, and her appearance raised only the expected ribald murmurs among the mostly male patrons.

She eyed this one's customers as she passed towards the bar, an eyeridge raised and fairly daring them to speak openly, but none took her up on the implied challenge. This one prepared a drink known to be appreciated by those of the Hist as she approached the bar.

"Firewater perhaps Ma'am?"

She looked at this one with that inscrutable expression of an Argonian, head to the side. "So, it is as I'd heard. A Khajiit bartender. Splendid. Firewater you say? Yes, firewater would be excellent! And perhaps something for yourself?"

"This one does not drink on the job."

"Oh, that's a shame. Tell me, Khajiit, what do they call you here?"

"This one is S'thengir, though mostly they call me 'Barkeep' or 'Hey, Furry Guy' - when they're not demanding refills and cursing this one for requesting payment. And you? You are new in town."

It wasn't a question. This one had been living among the men and mer of Kvatch for nearly ten years, and knew of their concept of modesty - and its incumbent requirement of covering apparel.

"Indeed I am," she said before taking a hesitant sip.

"OH! Strong drink you've given me, S'thengir! Strong but warm. This is good."

I sat the bottle back under the bar and smiled inwardly. Years living in Kvatch may have soured this one's outlook on life and his fellows, but acknowledgement of this one's skill at his chosen craft still brought a brightened mood and perhaps a bit of a smile may have crept across this one's face.

"You're going to have to wear clothes here, Argonian. The locals have an ordinance requiring covering of... those."

"Oh. Is that why everyone is looking at me like that? I had hoped to avoid the expense. It's not like I have exposed nipples after all! Tell me, do they like Argonians here?"

This one shrugged. "They accepted this one when he first arrived. They seem to be tolerant. Their society is odd, but well structured if you stay within its boundaries. But their ways are set. This is an expense you will not escape if you plan to stay long."

An Argonian sigh is an odd thing to hear, but this one had met a few over the years and knew of their ways.

"And I suppose they'll want me to wear something under my tail. It is not a comfortable thing, you know."

This one laughed and turned around, showing the customized clothing he wore regularly.

"This one is quite aware! But with time comes acceptance."

"Oh! Nice ass and tail! And a clever design with the V cut in the back and the belt riding over. I might have to try something like that."

"Better than a hole one must thread the tail through."

She took another drink. A long swig.

"So, do you plan to stay in Kvatch long?" this one asked, genuinely curious. "You appear to be an adventurer."

She turned her head again, in the manner of her kind. She looked at this one long, up and down, as if appraising a horse. This one does not deny he felt somewhat awkward at her stare. It was not the sort of look this one was used to.

"An adventurer? Me? Well, of a sort I guess. I believe I will stay a while, S'thengir! Now, where is your oblation-room? It's been a long day."

"Females to the right."

She leaned over the bar, as if to confide some secret to me. "Would I be better off to go outside? I've seen tavern lavatories before."

This one smiled rather proudly. "Oh no Ma'am! I keep a nice female-only privacy room! This one thinks you'll be surprised. He can't say the same for the male room. They piss all over the damn thing. This one must use a hose in there every night. But you females are great. No trouble at all keeping it decent. That's why there is one for each sex."

"Thoughtful," she said, taking another drink before dismounting from the barstool.

"Needful," this one replied as he left to check on the other patrons.

"Weedum-Ja," she said, and this one turned around at the unexpected voice. "My name is Weedum-Ja."

This one nodded acknowledgement of the social gift. Names were not freely given by most travelers in this one's experience. Perhaps she truly did intend to stay.

"It is a pleasure to have you in my establishment, Weedum-Ja," this one said, sincerely. He may also have rested his eyes on the receding tail and thighs as they turned and walked towards the end of the bar and the lavatory beyond. This one was not above appreciating a well-sculpted form, even the scaled ones, and the sight of an unclothed female was not something seen often in Kvatch.

And it had been a long time. A very long time. An eternity.

Chapter 2 - Arrangements

It was some time before this one had free time to talk with Weedum-Ja again that night. She had taken up conversation with a hooded mage who this one was acquainted with. Inwardly this one smiled. There would be no jealousy regarding this celebate.

"More firewater, Ma'am? Anything for you Stephane?"

"Oh, so your name's Stephane? What are you drinking tonight? I'll have what he's having."

This one stifled a laugh.

"Two waters then?"

The Argonian's head cocked to one side as she looked back at the mage, who only shrugged with a weak smile.

"Nevermind. Another firewater for me pls."

The two, however, remained in quiet conversation for a considerable time before Stephane dropped some coins on the bar, bade Weedum-Ja a good evening and left the bar.

This one was cleaning the bartop as he left and continued to do so while working his way back to where she sat nursing her drink.

"You know Stephane?" she asked as this one studiously pretended to work at a non-existent stain nearby.

"Hmm? Oh. Yes, he's a local. Rather a milk drinker - or rather water drinker, but he likes to come in to socialize. Though usually he socializes alone at a table."

"I see. Say, S'thengir, do you rent rooms here? I don't have a place to stay for the night and the boarding house looks pretty seedy."

This one considered that. The original owner had let out a couple of rooms upstairs on occasion, but this one had found it rarely worth the added expense and bother.

"Sorry Ma'am, no rooms here. But this one doubts anyone would trouble you over there. The town guards are decent, and that axe of yours looks like it's seen some use. Most of the boarders are just local ne'er-do-wells and drunks."

"Yes, exactly. I'm not worried about being accosted. I'm worried about their smell."

"Ah. Yes, that is a problem."

"I won't be any trouble, I promise!"

This one must confess that the prospect of this Argonian staying under his roof had its obvious appeal, though he should have banished such abominable thoughts. He should not have even considered the proposal. He should have simply said "Sorry Ma'am." and had an end to it.

"There is a room that doesn't have too much junk in it upstairs. This one can take the boxes off the bed. It's not much, and no one has stayed there for years, but if you're desperate."

"Beats smelly drunks."

This one instinctively looked to the man on his right, but he was already too deep in his cups to notice. He would be at the boarding house tonight.

"Okay. 10 per night, and that's a bargain in this town, believe me."

Weedum smiled her toothy grin and downed her firewater, then leaned in close.

"I don't have any money, S'thengir."

This one drew back as if slapped. All his sensibilities were rocked. He was - is - nothing if not a merchant at heart. A re-appraisal of this woman was in order!

"No money? Ma'am, just how do you expect to pay for that firewater?! You should have told this one before assuming - no, taking advantage of - his generosity! Be assured Ma'am, freeloaders will get no sympathy here! Out with you. Now, before this one loses another cent to your worthless scaled hide! Gorgeous boobs or not, I'll not put up with this!"

"Careful S'thengir," she said, still speaking in nearly a whisper conspiratorially, "you said 'I'."

That put the pause in this one's rage. Had this one done so? Had this one's years of living with these wretched folk been so insidious that he had begun thinking of himself as an individual? He thought of his mother and how disappointed she would be. But thoughts of his mother were soon vanished as Weedum-Ja continued her appeal.

"Calm down, S'thengir. I may have no money, but I have other talents. Talents that may be more valuable than gold, in fact!"

The lascivious shake of her small but pendulous breasts was impossible to misread - or look away from.

"Are you offering yourself as payment? One such as yourself should not prostitute herself so, even were I of a mind!"

"Oh, that was just to calm you down. I'm no prostitute. Seriously though, you might be surprised at what I can do - outside the mating chamber. What do you know of alchemy?"

This one was taken aback at the sudden shift of subject. But a merchant's mind is always on the lookout for an advantage.

"Not much really. Never had much need for it."

"Oh, but you do! You do indeed! You just don't know it! Take this fine fellow here. In your professional bartender's estimate, how long would you estimate he has before he barfs all over your floor?"

This one looked at the man from earlier. His head was beginning to sway, but this one knew him well. It took a lot of drink to get him to release his stomach.

"This one would say he's good for another ten minutes at least. But he tends to vomit on the bar. Quite a mess too."

"What would you say if I told you," she began, rummaging through her traveler's pack all the while. She finally extracted a very small vial of intricate design before continuing, "that if you put a single drop from this bottle in what's left of his ale, he would retain his puke all night long, only purging when he awakens in the morning!"

She let this one look at the vial. "That, Ma'am, would be a very handy bottle to have!"

"Oh yes. For a man in your line of work, I'd say a VERY valuable item that. Wouldn't you agree?"

The merchant in this one's brain went to work. Calculating the time and cost of the cleaning, adding some value for not having to endure the disgusting work, and avoiding the slight detriment to the goodwill (and smell) of the bar should the vomiting occur as it usually did had some monetary value as well...

"Twenty. This one values it at Twenty."

"Twenty for one drop, or Twenty for the whole vial? There's got to be 100 drops in there, good sir!"

The merchant brain agreed. "Okay. 50 for the vial. And that's if it works."

She smiled and nodded to the inebriated customer.

To place a drop unnoticed into the cup was child's play. It suddenly occurred to this one that he was placing much faith in this stranger, curvy as she may be. For all he knew, he may have just poisoned the poor man. And he was a good, regular customer at that. But it was too late now. He pocketed the vial.

This one crossed back to Weedum-Ja.

"So, how about that room?"

"We'll see."

"Oh, come now. You can always kick me out in the morning. Surely it's worth a night's room."

"And board. Don't forget the firewater."

"Oh yeah. And the three firewaters."

"Two."

She smiled.

This one poured another.

It was getting late when the people began to filter out. The hearthfire had burnt to embers a good while ago and the man upon whom we had wagered was slumbering peacefully, his head in the crook of his arm. His mates came to fetch him.

"Wow! He's not even hurled a once! Hey, furry guy, what's he been drinkin'?"

This one turned to the men on either side of the sleeping drunk.

"Usual. Ten by this one's count. Let him know in the morning so he can reckon up, would you please?"

The two took him by either arm and he came around enough to give a half-hearted effort at walking. This was the moment of truth. That he hadn't vomited yet was a minor miracle, true. But once in motion the stomach tends to give it's all. As they led him out, this one decided that if he should make it to the door cleanly, he would have to admit that the potion was likely the cause.

Nothing happened.

This one had been picking up the glasses, mugs and pitchers around the place when his hand met that of a cool scaled one. This one let go of the pitcher and let Weedum-Ja help with the cleaning up. There were only a couple of stragglers still in the place by this time.

"Weedum," this one said quietly as we carried a load back to the bar. "Perhaps you should go up now. This one will come by later with bedding. But... it wouldn't do to have rumors spread. Unholy rumors, if you understand."

"Ah," she nodded. "Unholy mingling? Interspecies sex? Abominable goings-on in S'thengir's bar?"

"Yes. Exactly that."

"Okay. I'd help with cleaning up, you know. I've done scullery work before. I'm good at it."

"This one doubts you not. But society has rules. Not to mention the anger of the Aedra."

"Fuck the Aedra!"

"Weedum Ja! Please!" this one hissed. "Not here!"

"Well... fuck em anyway and their rules. But yeah, I guess that's not something to say in public. I'll be in the room."

"First door on the right."

"Okay. Say, S'thengir..."

This one looked up from his dish washing.

She kissed me then. Er... That is, she kissed this one then. An Argonian's mouth is not one designed for kissing. But she managed it. This one admits to a thrill running down his back at that gentle mouth-to-mouth touch that cannot be denied.

"Thank you," she said when she had pulled away, then she headed towards the stairs as if nothing had happened.

This one watched her go, mesmerized by her. Surely it was just this one's lack of any recent experience in this area that caused the pounding in his chest. This one's merchant brain was screaming that this one should not be feeling this way. But another brain had different views - a reptilian brain.

Chapter 3 - Night

The last of the patrons had left and this one locked the door before returning to the last tables and finishing the after-hours cleaning. After inventory was completed, this one double checked that everything was in place and retired to his bed in the back room. But no sooner had he laid his head to rest than he remembered his guest. He donned his sleeping clothes and gathered a spare set of bedding.

There was no light within so this one opened the door quietly. Weedum-Ja had moved the boxes, stacking them high against the far wall and was sleeping with her face to the wall. This one pulled a blanket over her body, trying but failing to keep from admiring the view.

A hand caught this one's as he turned to go.

"Perhaps not as asleep as this one assumed?"

She turned and in the moonlight from the window I saw her smile. It was not a wholly innocent smile.

"Apparently not. We Argonians require quite a bit of alcohol to get drunk, S'thengir. However, not so much to get horny."

"Weedum, we must not! The admonitions against such things... Stendarr himself..."

"Pah. You are not Mer or Man. You are Khajiit!"

"Yet even so, Mara..."

"Fuck Mara," she said, and her hand drew this one into the bed atop her.

"You must not say such things, Weedum-Ja," I said, but my hands were already all over her, and hers on this one.

Too strong. Too strong is the pull of nature. In such ecstasy the mind knows not of Khajiit or Argonian, fur or scale, sin or saint. It knows only of male and female, tongue and finger, taste and smell. This one had reverted to base primal instinct, and this one revelled in it - and she with me. Both slow and yet urgent she was, eager but also withstrained. Of course this one yearned for consummation, but he also revelled in the simple feel of her body against his own.

Finally, this one felt her hand slide down between us. It was agonizingly slow, and this one's long pent desire screamed for release within her, but it was too much. At the merest touch of her claw against my maleness, this one was lost. She held this one tight, both below and around this one's waist as this one's body responded as it was made, rutting against her like the animal it had become. Again and again the spasms came, bringing ecstasy with each - yet somewhere in what remained of this one's consciousness, shame at the premature result lurked. But this one's body continued to send forth its seed upon her and her eyes closed as if enjoying what might otherwise have been an embarrassing failure.

Finally it was done, and this one's mind returned to see the body's handiwork upon her. It was a massive outpouring. Her eyes opened partially and met this one's, putting a finger to my mouth to stop the apology that was working its way out. Then she did the most extraordinary thing. She began to massage it into her scales, slowly and carefully, making sure to coat each individual scale of her lower abdomen as if lovingly applying an ointment or lotion.

As much as there was, yet it didn't cover more than the area between her breasts and her cleft - given the amount she was applying to each inch of herself, and as this one watched he was fascinated by the care she took in making sure each scale got its fair share of the stuff.

Finally she was satisfied and motioned for me to lay beside her.

"If you even utter the word 'sorry' in the next 10 minutes, I swear I will split you down the middle, Khajiit."

That put a stop to conversation for at least that long! Yet it was nice, lying with her, sated and spent. This one traced her outline with his finger, though she stopped it when it neared the area she had treated.

"Not there. Not yet. Let it soak in a bit first, okay?"

"You are an odd woman, Weedum-Ja."

She turned and smiled at me. "Oh, you've no idea yet, furry guy. Let's just say I like that. A lot. Okay?"

"Fine here!"

"Got any more?" she asked, and put her hand against the source.

"Maybe later."

She began massaging them gently, and I lay back, doing the same for her breasts.

"I suppose we could get in real trouble for this?" she asked.

"This is the home of the great Chapel of Akatosh, Weedum. And you know how zealots feel about interspecies relations. It is doubtful we would be killed, but we'd surely be ostracised. Maybe expelled from the city. The tavern would be closed, undoubtedly."

That Argonian sigh again.

"Would it be so different from where you come?"

"Not really."

The two of us lay like that while the night deepened. Something skittered overhead in the attic. Rat probably, but we did not stop our touching, though Weedum-Ja did pull the blanket over us when she felt confident her lotion had dried sufficiently.

"When was the last time for you, S'thengir?" she whispered. Sleep had almost taken this one, but her voice - low and growly though it was - did not alarm.

"There are no other Khajiits in this town. Some pass through. Rarely do they enter taverns."

"So, what? Ten years?" she asked, incredulous.

"Well... you mean er... with another?"

"Oh. Well, yeah. But even so. That was - from what little I know of such things and Khajiits - quite a lot. So it's been ten years since you've been with another?"

This one debated, but decided that truth was required here. This was not the time to concern oneself with dignity.

"I have never. With another."

The hand stopped its motion.

"Oh!"

"Oh S'thengir! I had no idea! You're... well, you're such a good looking guy. Surely someone..."

"Some have sought me. None have conquered me."

"But... me? An Argonian?"

"This one didn't fight very hard."

"No," she said, turning to face this one again. "No, you didn't."

She kissed this one again then, and the reaction was immediate and obvious, especially given where her hand was.

"Oh, you like my kisses?"

"Would a denial be believed?"

"Not now."

Chapter 4 - Round 2

"Perhaps the gods might be pacified if we don't actually - you know - go all the way?"

"The gods perhaps, but the people would never believe we hadn't," this one pointed out.

Her hand retreated.

"As much as I regret it then, I suppose we should refrain from any further outrage against nature and society. Would you consider staying here with me for the night at least? It's not polite to abuse a guest like me and then abandon her. Wouldn't you agree?"

"This one would be honored to share your bed, Weedum-Ja."

She took my hand and turned away from me, my back now against the wall, and this one tried to get comfortable. Her large tail didn't improve that situation, however. Neither did the place she had guided my hand to. But this one did try.

An hour later the failure was evident.

"Fuck the gods," this one blurted out and spun her over. She laughed and took this one between her breasts, as if knowing all along that her body pressing against this one's would never allow for anything so passive as sleep.

Even with all our passionate writhing, we did not consummate our lovemaking fully - though it was a close thing. Yet even without that, we explored each other fully and with gusto over many a long and lust-filled hour. When finally even she was exhausted and - dare this one say - sated in her own way, she encouraged this one to complete the act over her chest, assisting in that endeaver fully, all the while assuring me that she found the sensation incredibly erotic.

What this eruption lacked in volume, it certainly made up for in exuberance. Her eyes never straying from the focus of our efforts.

This one nearly collapsed on top of her in exhaustion afterwards, but she warned me away while she repeated her odd ritual of ensuring that all my efforts would not be wasted. She applied meticulous care to gathering and disseminating the lotion evenly over her chest scales.

"You are very precise," this one remarked once his breathing had recovered. "You seem to know exactly where you left off last time."

"Oh, I do! I can feel it. I doubt you can understand, not having scales yourself. They tend to dry out, you know. This... it's wonderful. It keeps them soft and... well. It feels good. I hope to get all of my scales bathed by you eventually!"

"All of you? That sounds like fun!"

"Well, when I get to my back, I'll need some help rubbing it in."

"Hmm. This request seems a little... gross."

"Oh, don't be such a wimp. Do it for me? The least you can do considering what I do for you, don't you think?"

This one agreed reluctantly.

"When do you open the tavern?" she asked sometime later, after the blanket had been pulled up again.

"Not till the afternoon."

"Good! Then we can stay together till then. Who knows? You might wake up with renewed energy!"

"Ma'am, this one is far from confident he will be able to stand come the morning!"

"Well, relax and sleep my lover. What the morning brings will wait till the morning."

'My lover', she had said. This one had never considered himself any sort of lover. Most of his waking hours were spent trying not to think of such things. But in this one evening his life had changed drastically. He looked at the scaled beauty next to him, and she was looking back. It is a hard thing to read the eyes of an Argonian. This one was looking to see something soft in them. Something that would say this was more than just a roll in the hay. He certainly felt something warm for her, deep within his chest. But she just smiled and stroked his face.

"I would say I'm sorry that I stole your virginity, lover. But it would be a lie."

"You stole nothing that was not given freely... lover."

"Maybe so. Let's talk in the morning. You don't know me - other than physically that is. I don't think there's any part of me you've not explored with fingers and tongue by now. But I would like to know more about you too. Once the tavern opens, well... I assume we must play more distant roles."

"It would be best. Would you consider the role of a tavern wench?"

She considered that for a moment.

"No, but you could use a maid here. I know you think you keep the place clean - and for a male I suppose you do. But you could use my touch. Besides, I only want you to pinch my butt."

This one nodded agreement. "For room and board?"

"And perhaps you could help me pick out some clothes tomorrow? You would know best what is acceptable around here."

"One night of love, and already you have this one shopping for clothes with you?!" this one laughed. "Alright, this one will buy you some clothes. Though anything is better than nothing in Kvatch!"

"Not tonight."

"No. Not tonight," this one agreed and we went to sleep as if two spoons in a drawer.

Chapter 5 - Morning

This one awoke to sunlight and a terrible lack of Argonian. For a fleeting, frightening moment this one thought that all had been a dream. But the room was not his small bedroom behind the bar, and the unmistakable scent of her still lingered on the blanket. The door was open.

"Weedum?"

A distant voice called back, "Just a minute, S'thengir. I'm... downstairs."

This one understood, rose and went down to the empty tavern room, then across to the lavatory. The stench was overpowering, but this one had gotten used to it. He should have hosed down the room last night, but he had been preoccupied with other thoughts. He held his breath and did what was necessary.

"Hey big boy," she said from the doorway.

"Weedum! This one must beg pardon for some privacy at this moment! He is rather indisposed!"

"So I see!"

I turned around to see the unashamed Argonian in the doorway with an evil grin. Watching this one urinating.

"Weedum, please! A little privacy?!"

The grin became wider. Until finally she must have inhaled at last.

"Oh gods! Gods! S'thengir, it smells like a sewage pit in there!"

A part of this one laughed as he finished, watching her double over as if to retch. This one suddenly was struck by the odd thought that she might be doing so at the same time the patron whom had ingested a drop of her potion might be awakening to do the same thing. Perhaps somehow there is balance in the world after all.

But she didn't actually lose her stomach.

"Sorry, Weedum-Ja. This one usually hoses it down at the end of the night."

She had recovered once I'd closed the door behind me.

"But instead you were too busy hosing me down!" she laughed.

"Speaking of which," she said, dropping to her knees. "You got any more in there?"

"Are all of your kind so insatiable?" this one asked, but she was unable to speak for the moment, and just shook her head slightly in the negative.

"Mmm Mmm," she said. Then with a 'POP' as suction was released, she spoke again.

"Nope, that's just me."

"As enjoyable as it is, perhaps we should at least eat first?"

"Sounds good! What do you have?"

This one stepped into the room behind the bar, and on farther into the larder with Weedum-Ja following close behind.

I passed her a loaf of bread, some not-too-old cheese and salted meat, along with some fruit.

"That all?" she asked, and this one turned back to see her arms full.

The vision of my food cradled in her arms against her breasts reminded this one yet again of how much she appealed to me physically. This one wondered if he could ever tire of such visions.

"That's all. Why? How much do you eat?!"

She shrugged but turned to leave. "I burn a lot of energy, mostly walking all day. They call me a Pilgrim, you know. Though obviously I am not exactly a zealot of any particular god."

This one gestured to a table in my sleeping room, where she sat while this one gathered utensils and plates.

"Knowledge is my god," she said while this one poured some juice into two mugs.

"You sound like a mage."

"Mage? Me? No. Though I suppose you could say I practice a kind of magic. Alchemy is my thing. It started when I was little. I used to gather herbs for our village shaman. She showed me how to mix different plants, flowers and roots to make potions for different purposes. It was fascinating, you know? You can take something that would normally be a deadly poison, add some innocuous leaf or prepare it in some particular way, and the result can be something very, very different!"

I sat with her as she passed me a portion of bread and cheese.

"Like the potion from last night?"

"Yes, like that. Though that's hardly a potion at all. Just dried root of a particular plant, ground and powdered and mixed with water. Calms the stomach, for a while at least. I need it since I make my way on what I can scavenge from nature. I've found that a plant that is perfectly edible in one land may be quite a bit different in another. So it comes in handy. I've another that induces vomiting actually. Sometimes necessary."

"So how do you know what to mix? Sounds like a lot of dangerous experimenting to me!"

"It would be," she admitted as she continued, though this one was fascinated by watching her eat. It struck this one that he could actually see the difference on those scales she had moisturized last night and those she hadn't. They did look shinier. This one shook himself out of his observation of her body to concentrate once more on what she was saying.

"Books are the key," she said, her eyes bright now with evident interest in the topic. A lot has been done before us, so we don't have to experiment! But they are hard to find, and sometimes even harder to read. My old shaman didn't like books. But I did. One day I left to apprentice with a real alchemist, and the things I learned from him were incredible. Yes, magic, surely! I still carry one of his books with me to this day. But I've found more since then."

"Why don't you open your own shop? Sounds like you could do so easily."

She turned wistful for a moment, and looked at the trees outside. The sun was rising toward noon and it glanced off her snout and shoulder in such a way that this one was transfixed momentarily. Argonian she may be, but to these eyes at that moment she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

"It is hard to leave the wild, S'thengir. To set down roots in a place like this... it would be hard for me. The pull will always be there, you know? To strap on the pack and axe and see what lies over the next hill. To see what treasures lie in the hidden books. Do you know, I can read five languages? My alchemist master taught me that. But I can't speak a damn one of them. Well, Common and Jel. But that's it.

But it is dangerous out there, exploring. I've gotten good with that axe of mine, but I can still be overwhelmed or unlucky. I've been shot, I've been stabbed, I've been bitten. Without my reagents I would be dead. But I'm always looking for more. Yes, I guess I am insatiable."

She looked back at this one then, as if just remembering he was still with her.

This one felt a pang of remorse at that look. He could see that there was little spark in her eyes for a Khajiit such as this one. The spark for her lay outside the walls of Kvatch. What was she even doing here?

"I'm sorry, S'thengir. I do go on if you let me. But what about you? What brought you here?"

This one rose and took her hand, and she stood and followed me. "Another time, lover. Right now, this one desires you again. So before you must leave to follow your heart, let's get you all shined up!"

"That," she laughed, "sounds like the best idea!"

Chapter 6 - Work and Play

It was high noon when we once more had exhausted ourselves, her arms now glowing like her chest. This one had to admit that, gross as it was, she did look better. Younger maybe? Shinier for certain in those parts, even after her bath which she shared with this one. Later she helped me hose down the male lavatory.

Opening time, though never an official hour, was somewhat nearing when she donned her pack and axe and left via the side door to get her some clothes. This one explained to the shop proprietor that Weedum-Ja was officially an employee as a maid to help clean up the tavern. The two got along well and I had little to do as they chose various items, some decidedly with a feminine aspect. When done, the cost was more than this one had assumed, but the proprietor was a friend and she allowed it to be put on credit.

When Weedum-Ja left the shop, she looked good to these eyes, though honesty dictates that she had looked better without the new clothes. This one missed the sight of her shiny orange chest and abdomen. Though a lover would think that of course.

Upon returning to the tavern, she gave me that kiss that never failed to give this one an odd feeling, and got to work. The doors had been opened already, but before the first patron arrived the place was already improved. Who knew that dust could reach such places? The whole night she busied herself, using a broom till the tavern became too crowded and then doing something upstairs. This one did see her on occasion, but we rarely spoke, and not only for show. It was a busy night.

There were a few comments about the new Argonian cleaning up the place, to which this one acknowledged that he had hired her and that she was quite good at the job. Those who asked had to agree, the tavern did look better.

This one also took the opportunity to dose a mug with Weedum-Ja's stomach settler for a customer who seemed likely to hurl soon. He did not, though such cannot be said for all of this one's patrons that night. Surprisingly, Weedum came out with a mop and bucket and had it taken care of before the patron had even left the room with no complaints at all. She gave this one a look as she passed.

"Sorry, this one didn't use the potion on that one."

She shrugged and went out the side door.

She had been in the upper rooms towards the end of the night and this one caught no sight of her as he began to clean up and shoo out the last stragglers.

"Weedum?" he called after locking the front doors.

There was no answer. This one climbed the stairs and looked in on her. The room was immaculate. All the boxes were gone, while Weedum sat at a table I recognized from another room, her head resting on her arms, fast asleep.

This one helped her to her bed, though she barely woke enough to be sensible, and he pulled the blanket over her with her underwear still on. There would be no frisky business this night. Instead he blew out the table lamp and closed the door behind her. Before retiring, this one checked the other rooms. They all had been tidied, but the back one was filled with the boxes and items that the others had been crammed with - now orderly and labelled. She had been a busy girl!

The week passed, with not a lot of change in our routine, but the nights - and the mornings... Oh, those were far from routine! And her scales were nearly all shined, until one night when we'd closed early for lack of patronage. That night she drew this one to her room without a word. There wasn't a flame on upstairs, the only light was from the moonlight outside until she led this one into her room and closed the door behind her.

Inside she had a small candle lit, its flame covered by a red glass wind-cover, bathing the room in a gently flickering red glow. She had the mattress pulled off the bed into the center of the room, with many thick blankets over it, and flower petals strewn over that. Incense of a scent this one didn't recognize wafted to the ceiling above and this one almost felt he had been transported to another world.

Wordlessly she bade this one to stay where he was while she stood on the mattress, slowly and with obvious grace removing her clothing one article at a time. At times the gleam of her scales was all that could be seen in the darkness. Other times a curved outline or a smiling mouth would appear out of the darkness.

It was here for the first time that this one really realized that the person he was dealing with was no Khajiit, no mer, no man. She was of a different form entirely, made by the Hist as if in simulation of our outward appearance, but her origins were far different. Snakelike is the best that this one can describe her movements, her dance, but that really doesn't convey the sinuous grace well enough. Words simply will never do her justice. It appeared both alien and yet totally erotic, and this one knew without a doubt that tonight he would be breaking the taboo completely, not just bending it beyond recognition. She was ready. He was ready.

She rose from the darkness and removed this one's clothes, never stopping her dance. A light touch here, a flicker of the tongue there. Finally she blew out the candle, but the incense continued. No moonlight shone any longer. We were in complete darkness, our only guide was touch and warmth.

There was no scale lotion massaging that night. She had given that night to me alone. That's right. ME. She was MINE. Not This One's. She was all mine, for that night at least, and I gave her my all as deeply as I could. Nothing was barred, nothing was banned, nothing was immoral or censored. All without saying a word, though moans were plenty.

We slept there, together. Joined both physically and emotionally, and for that night I felt what might have been real love from her. At least, that's what I thought at the time. Whatever it may have been, it felt real. It felt like something that could last. Physical certainly, but maybe something more. I realized how badly I wanted it to be something more. How I had managed to lose myself to her so quickly, I didn't care. I just wanted her for myself, and forever. I wanted the night to last forever. I wanted so much.

I received so little.

Chapter 7 - Revelation

This one must apologize for his outburst and shameful relapse into the 'I'. You must understand, strong was the emotion after that night, and strong it still remains with this one. It should not be assumed that Weedum-Ja was ever exactly untruthful with this one - at least technically. But later events proved difficult to reconcile with the events of that night and what this one implied from them. Still, long experience in the realms of men and mer have weakened this one's proper Khajiit perspective. No one belongs to anyone.

The next day passed much as had the previous one, yet much had changed within this one. Now she need not press her lips to his for that thrill to reappear. She need only glance his way, or say a word or two. And some of the regular patrons began to notice. Would it surprise you to know that the Brothers of the Chapel of Akatosh frequented the tavern? Indeed they did! And they have eyes for iniquity. They see it where it is not. So much more do they see it where it is.

Yet this one was blind to that threat. He saw only her in those days. Saw. Touched. Loved. Within a short few more days, despite the long hours of a tavern owner, she completed her odd quest to cover herself completely with me. We still had the nights and the mornings. Our next quest seemed to be to christen every table, every chair, every thing within the tavern with our lovemaking. And this one became bolder, even during business hours. An accidental touch here, a whispered word there, a few stolen minutes out of sight...

But eyes were watching. And tongues began to wag out of earshot. Rumors were started. But we were oblivious. This one had never been happier, and in her own way, she was too. This one is confident of that. She may have had an ulterior motive, but she was a sexual creature too, and that secret motive was not the only one that influenced her actions.

But, as such things always go, we went too far. This one had opened the tavern, but no one came in. The previous night we had slept together but hadn't actually done anything, so we both were feeling... needful. So we retired to the room behind the bar and one thing lead to another and soon we were all over each other.

Then a patron came in. This one didn't recognize the voice, and we really were quite into each other by that time... and quite unclothed. So this one chose to ignore him. But he would not go away. Our ardor slowly faded, but that voice was persistent and soon we knew it was pointless. We dressed, and this one brought out a case as if to explain the absence. What this one was unaware of was that the man had seen us. Worse yet, it was a Brother. Violence was considered when he ordered only a glass of water, but this one yearned for Weedum all that evening - so blatantly that it must have been obvious to all.

Another day passed, and we thought nothing of the incident until we received a notice from the Chapel. In Kvatch, you do not ignore a notice from the Chapel, and it was addressed to both of us.

This one put a 'closed for the day' notice up on the door. Then this one took the note up to Weedum, who was in her room, studying her books.

"Weedum, there is a problem."

She turned to me and looked at me with a quizzical angle. This one sat on the bed and motioned for her to join me.

"We are summoned to a meeting with the Brothers this afternoon. Weedum, this one fears we are discovered."

Her reaction was proper. She understood the gravity of the situation and did not attempt to make light of it.

"What should we do? S'thengir, I don't want you to lose the tavern! Should I just leave?"

"Maybe this one should go with you. It would save the Brothers the time."

She looked at me hard. "S'thengir, no. You... you're not made for the life of a Pilgrim! No, I should just go."

"This one cannot leave you, Weedum-Ja. This one... I. I have fallen in love with you."

"S'thengir, no. You're just infatuated is all. You aren't in love with me! All this... this is just biology! These aren't real feelings. It's just chemistry!"

"Have you dosed this one with a love potion then? It would explain much."

Her reaction had angered this one. After baring his soul to her, he had expected understanding at least. Sympathy perhaps. Even.... Just maybe... reciprocation. But she gave me only rejection.

"I have not, lover. But... S'thengir, you want my heart, but I'm not sure I have one. I have to be honest with you, I don't feel the same for you. S'thengir, I need you to look at something."

This one was confused. And hurt. Then of all things, she dug out a musty book from her pack.

"S'thengir, it's a book on alchemy by a master of a bygone age. I found it two months ago in a ruin I had been exploring, seeking just such discoveries. He had an Argonian apprentice, and he practiced many of his experiments on her. The ways of the ancient masters can be cruel, S'thengir, but they can also reveal great powers."

This one didn't understand. Moments ago we were talking of love, now we were speaking of ancient cruel masters of arcane arts? This one told her so.

"S'thengir," she said, her voice cracking in emotion this one didn't understand. "You need to know this. Look at this page..."

She turned to a page that had been marked in her hand, though in Jel. The language of the text was even more obscure to this one's eyes. But the drawings were clear enough. They depicted a person - a male Khajiit clearly. What he was doing was similarly obvious, since the two of us had been doing the same thing these last few days.

This one looked at his love, understanding still dark in his mind. She closed the book.

"He found a reagent that acts upon Argonian scales, S'thengir. It toughens them to an extreme amount, almost unheard of in this world. For up to a year on a single application, this reagent makes them all but impervious to any projectile, any weapon, even to strong magic! S'thengir, I am a Pilgrim, but I'm also a warrior. This... S'thengir, I think it's obvious what that reagent is."

Things clicked into place in this one's mind. And with each passing connection, he grew more and more angry.

"I had heard of a lone Khajiit in Kvatch. A male Khajiit. I had to try it, S'thengir. And it worked! It worked gloriously! I tested it with my own axe. S'thengir, I may now be the most powerful warrior in all of Tamriel. For a year anyway. Only a mage can hurt me now, and only the strongest at that! For the next year, I am practically immortal! S'thengir, the things I can do now... and next year I need only return and... we can do it again. But, S'thengir. I do not love you. I like you. A lot. But I don't think I'm capable of the love you feel. I've never felt such a thing, and I don't think I ever will."

This one drew back from her, recoiling inside as well as physically. She had used this one like one of her potion vials. Used him up and was now ready to throw him away. Until next year at least. Then she would return. The horror of it was this one knew he would do it all again. He could not do otherwise.

"I must leave, S'thengir. You have built a life among these people. I will leave anyway. We both know that. But I will return to you. You have that assurance. You must know that is true at least!"

This one was lost in thought, and now depressed as well as angry. This one asked her to stay, while I went off and thought on my own for some time. She agreed, though she seemed sad as well. But in this one's anger, he thought her sadness was over loss of a source of power, not over loss of a loved one. Or even a friend. He left in a rage.

This one stewed over it for hours, knowing that time was ticking before the meeting with the Brothers that was fast approaching. But he wanted to hurt her, as she had hurt him. Eventually though, his wrath calmed. He could not hurt her in that way, for she didn't feel the same. She never said she had. She had used him, undoubtedly, but he had certainly been a willing vial. Did he really have the right to punish her for the sake of his own pride? And yet, the Brothers... They were not evil men, he knew. But they had a code, and he had certainly broken that code. And it was a code that his fellow townspeople followed as well. They could shut him down regardless of if Weedum-Ja left or not.

Finally this one resolved to test Weedum-Ja one last time. He returned to her room, where she had packed her belongings, her new clothes folded neatly on the bed. She appeared as he had first seen her, ready to return to the wilds.

Argonians did not cry. But her eyes were red. This one felt the sympathy welling up within his chest, but he forced it down.

"This one would like to request you come with him and submit to the trial of the Brothers, Weedum. And submit to their verdict. This one is a citizen of Kvatch, who has chosen this life, and the rules imposed by it. This one must stand by that decision, or I do not deserve to stay here. The Brothers are harsh, but they are also just. This one must trust their judgement on this, and abide by their conclusions. You need not. But this one asks you to do so. As you have said, you are impervious. Should they decree something too harsh, you have my blessing to use your newfound armor and leave this city. But this one trusts it will not be so. That is not the way of their brotherhood."

She nodded assent and stood from the table.

"I will do this, for you S'thengir. I may not love you, as you do me, but you have become a dear friend - and friendships are powerful things too. They can last longer than love, I have found. Let's go talk to these Brothers. But yes, you will see what your reagent has done for me if they go too far. We've not hurt anyone. We've not flaunted our disregard for their taboo. But so help me if they go too far, this axe will swing! I am a Pilgrim and a lady of the wilds. I have brought the wilds with me, if needed."

This one shuddered involuntarily. Suddenly she seemed much more than just an Argonian woman. She was more, and this one had a sudden feeling that he didn't deserve her love anyway. But his pride was hurt, and he didn't voice that feeling.

Chapter 8 - Inquisition

Before we stepped out of the side door of the tavern, this one looked behind him. The place had never looked better, and this one could not help but think he may be leaving it behind forever. While the Brothers would surely not condemn us to death, taking the tavern away - or telling the citizens not to patronize it, which amounted to the same thing - was a very likely outcome. For her part Weedum-Ja was silent, but before this one opened the door she kissed me again.

"I'm sorry, S'thengir. For all this. I didn't expect this."

"This one has regrets, but not all... lover."

She smiled at that. "Me too, lover."

And then we walked the short distance to the chapel. The term is misleading. The great Chapel of Akatosh is no small affair. In many ways it is the central building in Kvatch. When we walked within it's doors, the place was silent, but the aroma of years of candles and incense was heavy. A Brother greeted us kindly enough, even given Weedum-Ja's current state of undress. But even Kvatch is not the Imperial City. We live within sight of the great forests, and many are those who travel the wilds without our standards of dress. She was not the first Argonian to appear so in town. Many don't even see them as people at all and thus their lack of dress is barely even noticed. Put a jacket on a lizard and no one even notices it has no pants. But this one certainly noticed.

We were led into a small room. Within were only two Brothers. Brother Kal this one knew, for he was the water-drinker that had interrupted our lovemaking. Brother Martin this one knew by reputation and occasional oratory in the chapel, but this one had not spoken with him directly. Yet it was he who spoke upon our entrance.

"Welcome, proprietor S'thengir. And what shall I call you, Argonian lady?"

This one began to speak for her, but she interrupted me.

"I am Pilgrim Weedum-Ja, Alchemist, Warrior and Deceiver."

That last was unexpected by this one.

"Deceiver? That is an appellation that certainly concerns me."

"In these walls, I speak only truth. But I am a deceiver as well as the other titles. This one beside me knows too well."

He turned his eyes to this one.

"Perhaps honestly can be taken too far as well? So, S'thengir, do you know why you have been called here?"

"This one... may know."

"I'll not worm it out of you, S'thengir. Though I personally don't imbibe in your commerce, many of the brothers do, and they assure me yours is a reputable establishment. More reputable than your predecessor certainly! I'll put it simply. Brother Kal witnessed an act in your establishment. An act that not only goes against our societal norms, but breaches some of the most established rules of Stendarr, if not Akatosh himself. Brother Kal may be many things, but he is not a liar, and he would not come to me had he not seen exactly what he described with his own eyes. Further, he is a regular of your establishment and does not wish it ill. I'll not ask you if what he saw happened. I know it happened."

This one nodded, as did Weedum-Ja beside him.

"Nobody's damned business though," she said under her breath.

"Was your business open at the time?"

This one sighed and nodded.

"And thus were you in full sight of anyone who came in?"

"This one... and this lady... were in a back room behind the bar."

"So, not in sight?"

"Brother," spoke up Brother Kal, "I had passed behind the bar to see why no one was in attendance when I saw them. They would not have been visible had I not done so."

"Ah. I see. Well, there is that then. At least you weren't being flagrant about it. But surely S'thengir you know that such relations among different species..."

"This one knows of the prohibitions."

"Tell me, do similar prohibitions exist in Khajiit society?" he said, then turned to Weedum-Ja, "in Argonian society?"

"Yes," this one said, as did Weedum beside him.

"I have thought long about this before sending the notice, S'thengir. I am not at all convinced that this prohibition is just. But it is written, for better or worse. Frankly I didn't expect the lady to appear here."

"This one requested she do so, Brother Martin. This one values his reputation and that of his business in this town. This is this one's place. This one would not want to leave it. This one likes it here."

"Yet you risked it to fuck this Argonian."

That shocked this one. And angered him. Respect this one may have for the brothers, but disrespect towards her that this one loves was going too far. He may have us both expelled from Kvatch, but surely we deserved more than humiliation. But it was Weedum who spoke next.

"Technically, sir... I fucked him."

Brother Martin's face showed a brief smile.

"Well, be that as it may, it is clear that a breach has occurred here. To be clear, Brother Kal actually did not want to bring you in at all. He has not mentioned it to another soul, in fact. You see, I have it in my power to forget the incident. However, I don't have the power to prevent it from happening again."

This one finished the statement for him, "...without making it public."

"Or private. I could have you both run out of town, but what good would that do? You'ld likely start fucking like rabbits the moment you passed the gates."

"Please, sir."

"Sorry. But you understand my dilemma. I had an idea had the lady not appeared before us, but I have another now that you are both here. But before I tell you that, I need one question answered from each of you, as honestly as you can. Will you be honest with me, S'thengir?"

"This one will, to the best of his ability."

"And you, Deceiver?"

This one saw a smile at the title, but she nodded. "As best I am able."

He turned back to this one and asked his question.

"Why did you fuck her?"

That word again. Why did he insist on using that vulgar word? Yet I responded immediately.

"Because I love her."

Brother Martin's eyes closed and he let out a sigh. "I was afraid of that. Even our lord Akatosh can't fight love. Mara blesses it. Dibella promotes it, but none can erase it. S'thengir, I'm sorry but you have just doomed your tavern. I cannot stop love."

This one's heart sank, but Weedum-Ja stood up defiantly.

"No! You can't take his life away because he fell in love with me! That's... no. I won't allow it."

She ran to the door, blocking it, and snatched her axe from her belt.

"Only you two know of this. If you two die, it will never be known!"

"Weedum-Ja!" this one shouted, "No! This cannot be! You cannot kill a Brother!"

"I can and I will," she said, and the way she held the axe showed she meant business.

"No, Weedum," this one said again, and stood before her, with his arms wide in a protective posture. "This one cannot allow this. They ARE this one's town. MY town. This one loves you, but also this one loves his city. Dirty, stinky and corrupt as it is, these men are not corrupt."

"They are going to take away your life, S'thengir! Do you want that? I can fix this right now. If you'll allow it."

Brother Kal had backed against the wall, and Brother Martin was standing, but he did not appear frightened, though this one knew more than even they that she could get away with this. No one in Kvatch could stop her.

"The tavern is not my life, Weedum-Ja. It would be hard, but it is not my life."

"I haven't asked you my question yet, Argonian."

We turned back to Brother Martin.

Weedum-Ja cocked her head to the side. "What question? Will I leave Kvatch? Certainly. If you promise not to take his livelihood from him."

"That is not my question, Lady. Please, sit down. Perhaps there is a solution, and one better than yours."

"Ask your question, BROTHER," she spat, not budging from the door.

"S'thengir has committed a sin against the gods and his city. More than one, I suspect, but that doesn't matter. Atonement must be made. If both of you leave, the sin will continue. If the sin is made public, the sin may continue, but punishment will certainly come. But I see another solution. What if both of you stay?"

"How is that a solution?" Weedum spat, and this one saw her hand flexing on the handle of the axe. She was holding herself in check by the merest thread of hope. This one sincerely hoped Brother Martin wasn't just stalling for time.

Then he saw a sudden movement by Brother Kal. In an instant, a dagger flew inches from this one's face, directly at Weedum's chest, true and deadly. This one had no time to think or react. Neither did Weedum. She took the dagger fully in her chest, just above her right breast.

It fell to the floor with a heavy metallic clang, and Weedum smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

Chapter 9 - Violence

This one saw her charge, her axe swinging in a deadly arc. He had a split second to act. The Brother Kal could not prevent her attack. No one could. Even Brother Martin looked horrified. No one could stop her.

But this one could not allow it. The Brother had been kind. He had not spread the rumor that couldn't be stopped. Even his attempt to kill Weedum-Ja had been self defense at worst, and defending Brother Martin was more likely his goal. No, though it may cost him everything, this one could not allow this to end this way. He stepped into her path.

She could not have stopped her momentum even if she'd had time to try. Instead she crashed into me, and I into Brother Kal, but the blade was this one's only concern. Her arm wrapped around my head at her elbow, but she held onto it reflexively. The arc tightened around this one's head and the thing hit her full in the face, blade-on. I feared the worst, for despite her off-the-charts armor power now, her eyes were unprotected. But she had a better chance than the poor Brother would have had.

We fell in a heap to the floor

"Weedum!" this one yelled, but before he could extricate himself from the tangle of limbs and look for blood or worse, Brother Martin's voice boomed out.

"Brother Kal, are you alright?"

Behind me the robed figure stood up, but this one was looking at the point of a sword, and Brother Martin no longer looked like a timid monk.

"Yes Brother Martin."

"Then get the hell out of here before she comes up with some other damn scheme!"

The robe flew out of the door before Weedum could react.

"Now, Deceiver, how about you reconsider your next move? I still haven't asked my question, and you know Brother Kal will tell everyone all about everything any minute now. I can still prevent that. But for the love of all the gods, put that goddamned axe down!"

I heard metal hit the ground behind me and the sword point drew away.

"Finally, some sense! We've not got much time, so I'll make this quick. No more dodging. Weedum-Ja, if you agree to stay here in the chapel for a period of one year, I will consider your sin expunged. No! Even better. I'll consider an indulgence for any future sin as well. One year. But you will be imprisoned nightly, so as not to incur any nocturnal transgressions for that year. Speak quickly now. I need to stop Brother Kal if this is going to work."

Weedum shook her head, dazed from the blow surely. But this one knew what the answer must be. She didn't love this one. Everything she'd done was to gain her damned alchemical armor. One year and it would be gone, with no guarantee that this one would still be available for her recharge. And she could find another very likely.

"Agreed," she said.

"Great," said Brother Martin. "Now let me get the hell out of here and find Brother Kal before he goes shouting to the rooftops!

And with that, we were alone again.

This one looked at her, and she smiled back.

"Wouldn't it be great if we sinned on old Brother Martin's desk?"

This one didn't laugh. "Weedum..."

"Oh stop looking like that. It's only a year. A year ago I didn't even know about... the reagent. I can wait a year."

"But. You didn't have to."

"No, I didn't. But I will anyway. Look, lover, I told you I had no heart. I lied, okay?"

"Are you saying what this one thinks you're saying?!"

"We'll see. In a year. I wonder how much each indulgence will cost us?"

That did make this one grin. "If it's a copper each, it's still going to cost a lot!"

She sighed again. "Well, I guess I'd better get those clothes back."

"We can fetch them together."

"The tavern is closed all night long too."

"Yes, it is!"

The End of the Confession of Proprietor S'thengir

Epilogue. By Brother Martin

I meant well. Truly I did. She was as good as her word, and - but for that last night - I can vouch for their chastity. Weedum-Ja became a fixture at the chapel, cleaning it till it sparkled, and every night she would willingly allow herself to be locked in her room.

They certainly still met often, though I insisted on supervision. I did allow them a kiss, and if a hand strayed a bit, we might well not notice a little indiscretion. I also clarified the indulgence, and agreed to one copper donated to the chapel per sin, so long as they kept their vow as to the year of chastity. I felt it was fitting punishment.

I was wrong, and I will regret it till my dying day.

Another Khajiit came to town, and I wondered if he might stray from his beloved Argonian, but the two Khajiits were like oil and water. It wasn't all Ra'Jirra's fault either. He had become surly in his enforced celibacy, except for those hours when he visited Weedum-Ja. For her part, Weedum seemed to feel the frustration as well, and could be somewhat snappish. But she never strayed from the agreement.

And then the Oblivion Crisis happened. I swear, if she hadn't been locked up in that damned room, she could single handedly have prevented it. Kvatch might not have been destroyed at all, and the hero of Kvatch would undoubtedly have been a certain green Argonian Pilgrim, with scales of steel and muscles to match.

We never found S'thengir after the crisis. His bones probably still lay buried beneath some rubble to this day. Weedum-Ja was inconsolable, but she vowed to honor his respect for the town and its people. She has become one of our most dedicated citizens and calls Kvatch her own adopted town. She led the reconstruction effort, and no one left alive after the Crisis can doubt her sincerity.

But I do have regrets. I only hope that both of them can forgive the tragedy that I inadvertently caused, and the loss of the time they could have shared. But at least I was there the day that she finally admitted her love for the surly bartender of Kvatch. At least they shared that before the Crisis tore them apart forever. I should have let them be.