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She awoke to find Weather looking at her, watching her breathe. She didn't mind.

"Don't read anything into it," she whispered. "I don't think you could understand anyway, but thanks for last night. I needed you."

"Happy to be of service, I guess!" he whispered back.

"I've got to go now. Please, if you can, don't mention this to your friends, okay?"

"It'll be just between us three."

"Three?"

"Well, Augusta said you were feeling bad. She... suggested."

"I owe her one. Okay. Just between us three."

"Will we meet again?"

"Weather," she said, and took his face in her hand. "Don't take this wrong but, I hope not."

He nodded. "I understand."

"Was I anything like you expected?"

"Better."

She smiled at that and kissed him, with that same awkward kiss that was a rough approximation of a human kiss. He seemed to like it though.

She began to stand up, but he drew her back down.

An hour later the sky had lightened but they were still in bed.

"Weather, I've got to go."

"Okay. Last night was for you. This morning was for me."

She smiled again, and this time he let her get up. He helped her with the tail strap.

They left the tavern together in the dim morning light, before she hugged him one last time and headed towards the Gold Road gate.

Suddenly she stopped cold in her tracks. She had totally forgotten about the Legionnaire. She hadn't mentioned her to Casta at all. Dammit, she couldn't go back now. She'd just have to write about her in her next letter to Casta.

Once she got outside the gate, there was a Legionnaire on horseback there, but there was no boob-armor.

"Hello Citizen," he said, his voice booming in the early morning quiet.

"Oh gods," Quill-Weave thought. "He's enthusiastic ."

"How's the road looking today?" she asked.

"With the soldiers of the Imperial Legion guarding it, only the most foolhardy bandits would show their faces upon it this day! Would you like an escort? I'll be leaving soon. I only await the arrival of the Night Patrol."

She considered it. Though she didn't look forward to travelling with this ridiculous hulking soldier, his muscles looked as solid as tree trunks.

"I wouldn't want to slow you down. Maybe for just a little way?"

"We exist to protect, good Citizen. You are a Citizen, aren't you? You have a somewhat foreign aspect."

"I live in Anvil and have for the last twenty years," she replied, a little bothered by the comment.

He leaned down from his horse, appearing to examine her closely.

"Yes, I am an Argonian. But I assure you I am also a citizen, if not a natural-born one!"

Another Legionnaire topped a rise a short distance away.

"Ah, here comes my fellow soldier! We may depart."

Quill eyed the horse. It looked rather fierce. She decided to keep her distance, but the soldier kept pace with her till they met the other Legionnaire.

"Ahoy fellow Legionnaire!" her guardian said, much too loudly.

"Oh!" said a voice that sounded familiar. "You're Quill-Weave, right? We met the other day."

"I am. But I have to apologize. My trip to Chorrol was... well, it was shortened unexpectedly and I totally forgot to mention you to Casta. I'm truly sorry. I'll be writing to her when I get back home though."

"Oh. Well, do mention me to her though won't you?"

"I will. I promise!"

"That reminds me, look at this!"

She pulled a tattered book from her pouch. Emblazoned across the top was the title 'Red Crater'.

"Oh! You found one of my books!" Quill-Weave exclaimed, truly happy.

"I have. It's quite good, though to be perfectly honest, I've read another of Casta's in between. They're certainly nothing alike. Do you often write about criminals?"

"Criminals!" her guardian exclaimed. "Scum and villainy! Why would you want to write about such filth?"

Quill-Weave thought fast. "Ah, but only by truly understanding the enemy can we remain vigilant, wouldn't you agree?"

Her companion's eyes squinted in the morning sun, looking into the distance. "Indeed. Vigilance is the Imperial Legion's sworn duty!"

"So then, you see, your partner here is only doing research so she can perform her duties even better!"

"Well, so it would appear. But let us be off. The patrol must not delay."

The angry horse started off again, and Quill looked at Ashley who was smiling inside her helm.

"Nice dodge," she said in a hushed tone.

"I've been called a Dodger before," Quill smiled back. "You needn't tell him how the book ends. I don't think he'd approve."

"Oh, he's alright. A bit Gung Ho. You'll be okay. Just... if he runs into any trouble, stay far away from him! He can get a bit violent and, worse yet, somewhat carefree of collateral damage."

Quill looked back at the big man lumbering away.

"Maybe I'll hang back a bit."

"Good plan. Have a good trip, Quill-Weave!"

"And to you, Ashley, my good reader!"

Quill-Weave gave her a parting salute that made the Legionnaire laugh, and then she was off to catch up to the big man on the surly horse.

Later, she bade farewell to him as well as she stopped to rest and get something to eat from her pack. It happened that she was at the bridge she had stopped at originally. Once the Legionnaire was out of both sight and earshot, she called.

"Brill? Are you around?"

"Shh!" came a voice from under the bridge.

"Don't worry, he's gone."

"That's a nasty one you were with. Fortunately his armor is polished so shiny that we can see him coming from miles away! So, how'd it go?"

She rounded the end of the bridge and met Brill underneath.

"Not so good, to be honest."

"Oh? Don't tell me she said no!"

Quill nodded morosely.

"Oh. I'm sorry Quill."

"Me too. She called me a stick-in-the-mud."

"You? Surely she doesn't know you very well then!"

"Maybe she's right," Quill said. "I need to be more spontaneous."

"Or maybe she's not the right girl for you."

"Brill, it's not like I propose to lots of women every day! She is. I don't know. She seemed like the right girl."

"Ah, buck up gal. Lotta life left in ya yet. Who knows what may happen."

"Oh, that reminds me," Quill said, and lifted her skirt.

"Do me a favor and take this strap off, would you? I've carried these damn things far enough."

The Orsimer's eyes lit up. She was somewhat glad to know that the sparkle was less for seeing her ass than for knowing what was in the little pouch she'd kept under her tail.

She took out the ring boxes and handed them to Brill.

He looked at her, and then handed one back.

"No, Quill. You keep yours."

"But I don't want to be reminded of this catastrophe. No, you go ahead. Pawn em or whatever you want to do with them."

He took the box back, then smiled. He got down on one knee.

"Quill-Weave," he began.

"Oh Brill, don't be silly."

"Will you marry me?"

"Brill. That's not funny."

"Come on Quill. Be my wife. I'd love to tell the guys that I'm married!"

"The other 'Mountain Men'?"

"Of course! We're honest men out here!"

"Who hide from the Legionnaires."

"Well, sometimes they don't ask questions first."

She took the ring from him and put it on. The facets gleamed off of her wet eyes.

"Oh Brill."

"See? Now it's not the ring you were going to marry her with. It's our ring!"

She hugged the big Orsimer, and he hugged her back.

"Thanks Brill. I'll treasure it always - though I won't wear it after I get back home."

He grabbed her butt and squeezed.

"BRILL!"

"That was our honeymoon! Now you'd better get going. Also, check the pawn shop in Kvatch next week if you're interested. My ring might get lost in there somehow."

"Thanks, Brill. But I think I'll just imagine you'll keep it."

"Won't fit my finger."

"Hell, turn it into an earring for all I care. But I don't want to know what happens to it. I just want to put this whole disaster behind me."

"I really am sorry though, Quill-Weave."

She hugged him again. "I know you are, Brill. That's the thing with the poor, you know. You are the most honest people in the world. When you're not robbing others."

He held up the ring, then stuck it in his pocket.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Quill. I'm not poor!"

She laughed and turned back towards the road. "Goodbye Brill."

"Goodbye wife!"

The rest of the way back she was still depressed, but thinking of Brill did make her smile. Until she got back to her house.

It was dark and empty when she opened the door. Just like her thoughts. Dark and empty. It was all that damned Vaermina's fault.

She hadn't been home for more than an hour when a knock came at the door. She'd forgotten to close the shutters.

"Hi Quill!" said a too-happy voice.

"Oh. Hi," she said, inviting her DM friend in.

"Whoa, are you okay?" he asked, noticing her demeanor.

"Yeah. Just... things. What's up?"

"Was wondering if you'd like to get together tomorrow for a game over at Wilbur's with me and Gorgo?"

She was about to object on principle, but she thought about it. She only hated her friends a little bit. They weren't to blame. And this place was going to be hellishly lonely tomorrow. Maybe a little distraction wouldn't be a bad idea."

"You know what, yeah. Let's play. But I gotta warn you, I'm probably going to get stinking drunk."

"You always play better when you're drunk! It's a date!"

"Great. See you tomorrow then. Around five as usual?"

"Sounds good. See you then," he said, and she shooed him out, closing the door behind him.

Then she pulled out the old wooden tub and poured herself a bath. She looked at the ring. Brill's ring technically. Though he had given it back to her, so she guessed it was hers again. It was a damn pretty ring.

She closed the blinds, locked the door and slid into the bath. There would be no attendant today to rub the dirt from behind her scales. She was all alone again in a house at once too small, and also too big for her.

She finished her bath, dried off, emptied the tub and padded up the stairs to her room, wrapped in the towel. She took one last look at the ring. It was a beautiful ring. Damned beautiful.

Then she put it back in its box and hid the box at the back of the bottom drawer - out of sight, if not yet out of mind. She'd write to Casta tomorrow and tell her about Ashley. What else could she say?

She blew out the light, dropped the towel and climbed into bed. As she looked around her room in the dark, she considered that - as bad as she felt - at least her house was immaculate. Except for that spiderweb. But she left it there intentionally. She'd never liked pets. She'd had no luck with them at all. But a spider wasn't a pet. It fended for itself. That was admirable. She needed to be like that spider.

If nothing else, she could be proud of her house. Nothing would disturb that at least.

She looked at the drawer, but sleep wouldn't come. Finally she got out of bed, took out the ring, and put it on her finger. The moonlight reflected in its facets, and she began to cry again as she crawled back under the blanket while blinking away the tears. She cried herself to sleep, but blessedly she had no dreams that night.

Vaermina had seen to that. She wasn't quite the heartless Daedra that she portrayed herself as. Even the Daedra sometimes showed compassion.