Sorry, this is a bit of a long-form story compared to the others. But I was afraid I was getting too predictable. I thought about breaking it up but decided to leave it as a single massive post. I did get an image commissioned for it by Ciderward, though I’ve not colored it yet. You’ll see it down there.
“Oh no,” Quill shook her head. “In fact, once I got over the embarassment, it actually turned out quite well.”
Mae was sitting at her work space in the hidden ‘exotic’ area below her stall in the Imperial City, working on replacing the ruby stones from Quill-Weave’s Evil outfit while Quill sat nearby, telling the tailor about her latest exploit with it.
“How on earth can that be? You were parading around their fall festival bonfire completely naked for all they knew!”
“And carrying a Jack-O-Lantern don’t forget.” the Argonian laughed. “I was holed up in my tower for days after that, too embarrassed to go out. But Mooky’s wife came by after he’d told her the whole sorry tale. She had explained it to the rest of the town and they actually want me to do it again next year!”
“Really?”
“Well, after they put the kids to bed and with some matching underwear for modesty.”
“They must really like you Quill!”
Quill-Weave restrained the instinctive correction of ‘Mistress’. Mae certainly knew her as both. “They do, I think. I guess I’ve brought a little notoriety to their little town. Of course, that wasn’t exactly what I was going for originally.”
“Still, having an Incarnation of Evil living nearby must bring in some tourist dollars.”
Quill laughed and rummaged through her bag, pulling out a little wooden figurine. “Look Mae! This is what one of the shops is selling now!”
Mae took the figure and looked it over before handing it back. “Nice replica! Though really, the boobs are a bit much don’t you think? I mean, even disregarding the size, there’s a couple of points there that you don’t have at all!”
Quill put it back in her bag, snickering. “Well, you mammals have your little fetishes. Besides, a little enhancement is good for the myth, and I owe it all to your and your cleavage magic. Plus it helps me go incognito when I need to. I’m all for it!”
“Well, here you go,” the little tailor said, standing and handing her the revised outfit. “Nice normal rubies this time. I even got a local jeweler to do the skull.”
Quill held the outfit up. It looked identical to her eyes. “Thank you Mae! I know these must have cost you something extra. I don’t want you to go broke replacing them!”
The little cat waved her offer away, “Nonsense. For the right purpose, those enchanted stones will bring a lot more than normal rubies.”
Quill looked at her darkly.
“Hey! Business is business.” Mae said defensively.
“Oh, I guess it’s okay. You’ve got to make a profit after all. Thanks a lot Mae. But now I’ve got another request for you…”
…………………………
She rode back to Anvil with two packages tucked away. As much as she would like to have stayed in her Evil Tower of Doom, she had to get her writing back to her publisher. Her monthly sabbaticals were doing wonders for her writing, even if so far they had led to nothing but embarrassment personally. She’d even gotten inspiration for a new book, “Life in the Sticks”.
The days at her home in Anvil passed slowly though, and she glanced at the calendar every morning as the day of her next sabbatical approached. It finally arrived and she took the first coach heading towards her destination, hopping off midway since there were no actual stops near the village. Mooky was there waiting for her as usual.
“Good trip?” he asked.
“Oh, it was fine.”
“Let me carry those,” he offered as they walked down the path into the woods where her Tower lay.
“Thanks! So, anything interesting happen while I was away?”
“Oh, the usual things that happen out here I guess. My sister is pregnant again. Farmer Brown’s cow got loose and we had a dickens of a time trying to rope it. Your tower was burnt to the ground. Fox got into our hen house again the other night.”
Quill nodded then stopped. “Hold on, what was that last one again?”
“Fox… hen house?”
“No, before that.”
“Oh. I thought you might mean that one. Your tower was burnt to the ground. A bunch of do-gooders came down from Cheydinhal. Said they were purging the countryside of evil and they’d caught wind of our Mistress of Evil. Yup, came and leveled the place. Not so much as a ‘by your leave’ either.”
The rain started to fall as Quill-Weave sat on the ground hard. “But… My tower!” she cried.
Mooky sat down beside her. “I know. A damned shame too. I guess you probably won’t be needing me anymore.”
Quill looked at him with tears in her eyes. The Faceless Mook patted her on the back. “Now Mistress, it’s just an abandoned tower.”
She turned to him with real anger in her eyes, “but it WASN’T abandoned! It was MY tower!”
He nodded in agreement, “A real shame. Want to see it?”
Quill rose and nodded, and Mooky led the way into the deep woods to the clearing where the tower had stood. Now it was a pile of rubble.
“How do you burn stone anyway?” Mooky asked to no one in particular while Quill poked around, prying a charred fake skull loose from cold cinders that was all that was left of her throne of skulls. Tears streaked her face as she held it up.
“Come on to our hut, Mistress. The wife has made up the spare room for you for the night.”
Quill allowed herself to be led away from the ruin.
……………………
The Argonian that stepped inside the little hut on the outskirts of the village that Mooky called home was not the Quill-Weave that had hopped off the wagon earlier that day. She was, in every aspect, a broken woman. The big lady that was Mooky’s wife welcomed her into the modest dwelling graciously, but Quill-Weave wasn’t paying much attention. She had met the woman some weeks back and was quite fond of her, though she would have described the housewife as ‘bombastic’. But along with her larger-than-life demeanor, she was a genuinely caring lady and kept her home tidy and respectable. And if she browbeat Mooky every once in a while, he still had genuine affection for her. Quill could see why he’d taken to her.
But now she was seeing none of that. In the few months since she’d taken on the role of Mistress of Evil, she’d really come to enjoy these trips as the highlight of her life. But now it was over and she’d have to go back to her old life without this spark of intrigue.
“It’s not fair!” she said as Mrs. Mooky sat her down on the ratty couch. “They can’t just go burning down people’s Evil Towers of Doom like that! Where’s the justice?”
Mrs. Mooky sat down beside her, handing her a cup of coffee. “Well dearie, you are supposed to be the Mistress of Evil after all. You shouldn’t be too upset.”
“Damn if I shouldn’t! I may be the Mistress of Evil, but that doesn’t mean I’m bad! I’ve committed no crimes or anything! Well, not serious ones anyway. But they just come and burn down my house?”
“There there. This life is hard, I know.”
Quill-Weave looked up into the big woman’s eyes. “Oh Mrs. Mooky. And I’d bought you an Evil Outfit too. I was going to ask you to be my sidekick.”
Suddenly a change came over Mrs. Mooky. “Sidekick? Me? Oh Mistress, you shouldn’t have! Can I see it?”
Quill-Weave sniffled and motioned to a package Mooky had left on the table.
Mrs. Mooky opened it up and unfolded the garment. Dark brown leather glistened and metallic edging shone around the ample chest-piece. Her eyes went wide at the scandalous cutout.
“Oh my! Quill, you had this made for me?!”
Quill-Weave nodded, adding a half-hearted “Mistress of Evil” correction between sniffles. Not that it mattered anymore.
“I’ve got to try this on! Excuse me Mistress. I’ll be right back!” she said excitedly and fairly ran down the hallway to change.
“That was a very nice thing you did, Mistress. I haven’t seen her this excited in years.”
“Well, she’s been kind to me Mooky. I had to do something for her.”
Later, a door opened and something came striding up the hallway, something large and dark. Quill was especially happy to see that she had put brown mascara around her eyes as well to accentuate the dark leather mask that covered her eyes. To call her a large woman was, perhaps, a bit misleading. Standing over six feet tall and quite broad, she was nonetheless not fat at all. Years of working with livestock and running a small rural homestead had kept her quite fit in fact. Now her bosomy physique was made plain. She was a vision. She was larger-than-life. She was… Evil Woman! Somewhere a clavinet played a staccato measure and in the back of her head and Quill started humming a tune.
“Clarisse?” Mooky said hesitantly.
Quill-Weave rose from the couch, a big grin on her face and temporarily forgetting her loss. “Nonsense! This isn’t your Clarisse, Mooky. This is EVIL WOMAN!”
Somewhere in the background a clavinet played again.
“Oh!” said Mrs. Mooky from behind the mask. “I wasn’t sure what the ‘EW’ meant.”
“I considered ‘Evil Girl’, but frankly you’re quite obviously no girl.”
Mooky nodded his agreement enthusiastically.
“Mrs. Mooky, you really rock that outfit!” Quill responded. “Though my guess at your bust size may have been too conservative.”
“You think so?” she replied, crossing to a little mirror nearby. "What do you think Hon?“
The Faceless Mook was speechless for a minute. “Um… don’t you think the cleavage is a bit… much? It’s practically bursting out. I can almost see your…”
“I know! Isn’t it great?” Evil Woman responded happily and turned to Quill-Weave. “Besides, it’s nice thick leather. It can’t break!”
“Well, you are certainly impressive,” Quill-Weave added, remembering the tower. “Too bad we won’t get a chance to use it now. It would have been a lot of fun having a sidekick.”
Suddenly Mrs. Mooky stood up straight, her back arched proudly and even Quill-Weave was beginning to lose faith in the leather straps that held the breast-piece in place. “Nonsense! Mooky, get the Mayor and tell him to convene a town meeting. We’ve got things to discuss! I think it’s time we deal with those vigilantes. They’re in the next village over, looking for witches. Well they’re going to get more than they bargained for. They won’t soon forget the Mistress of Evil and Evil Woman!”
Then she seemed to return from a fantasy world and looked at her husband. “But, can you help me out of this first? It was a bitch to get those straps tied up by myself.”
Mooky nodded happily, running his hands over curved leather on his wife. “Of course!”
“Oh! Hon! Umm… Never mind the Mayor for now. Mistress, will you excuse us for a little bit?”
Quill-Weave nodded and left the two to their hut and strolled out into the village proper.
………………………….
Later Quill was dressed in her Evil garb and was sitting at a large table inside what passed for the town hall. The fact that it was normally occupied by a few cows and horses and smelled as such didn’t seem to bother the townspeople who had gathered there with her though. Mrs. Mooky, dressed again in her humble housewife clothes now, was speaking.
“And furthermore, I think we need to call for the Imperial Legion to do something! We can’t have some random people wandering the countryside looking for trouble.”
The Mayor was a portly, balding man with a hint of grey still visible at his temples. While the village was barely more than a hundred souls, he obviously took his position as lead council member seriously though. “Now now Clarisse, they may have done some damage to this fine lady’s Tower of Doom, but you have to consider their motives too.”
“Motives, schmotives,” said a new voice. When Quill turned to look, she saw it was the shopkeeper who had sold her the toy Mistress.
“Mayor, ever since the Fall Festival this town has been booming. Why, my profits last week were more than I made all last year on Nekked Mistress figurines alone! Pumpkin sales went through the roof too. I’m having to import pumpkins from all the neighboring farms to keep up with demand!”
The Mayor looked concerned. “Yes, but the Imperial Legion? Surely we can handle this ourselves and keep them out of it.” He turned to Quill, “and Mistress, we all know and love you around here you know, but the Imperial Legion wouldn’t take kindly to your particular style. The Knights of Stendarr have moved on now, and are the next village over’s problem aren’t they? Let them handle it.”
“Mayor,” the owner of the local inn spoke up. “Maybe you don’t realize it, but since the Tower was razed my rooms have gone empty. Word has gotten around that our Mistress of Evil has been run off. No one’s coming to visit anymore. I’m back to just serving Herbert the Drunk again.”
A Bard nodded agreement, “And I’ll have to move on. Herbert doesn’t tip me!”
“AND,” Mrs. Mooky interjected, interrupting them all with her booming voice, “…all this lost money means lost taxes too you know.”
Quill looked back to the Mayor. He had suddenly become a lot more interested.
“Point taken,” he said, his face changing to one of concern. “But what do you propose?”
This time Mrs. Mooky had no comeback. Quill looked to the others, but they were just grumbling among themselves.
“And that’s the crux of the matter, Clarisse. If we don’t call out the Imperial Legion, what can we do? They mean well, they’re just a bit radical in their approach. And I’m none too sure if the Legion will side with us.”
“Gentlemen,” Quill-Weave said, speaking up. “And ladies,” she corrected herself before continuing, “I think this calls for the Mistress to wreak her revenge. I think, if you give me a little time, I can scare them off for good. But I will need your support.”
“What do you have in mind?” the Mayor asked uncertainly. “Nothing really evil, right?”
“I’ve got some ideas, but I don’t think you want to know about them. Not officially anyway. Just let me have free reign for a few days and I’ll see what I can do.”
The townspeople murmured, but the shopkeeper spoke up. “If the Mistress of Evil were to do something… substantial, it would surely bring interest back to the village!”
That seemed to sway them. Even the Mayor got on-board since he would not officially know anything about it.
“I’m a little worried about your term ‘free reign’, Mistress. But as long as it’s nothing too outlandish, I think we’re all agreed. Do what you can and we’ll help if possible.”
Quill looked to Mooky and Mrs. Mooky. Of course she knew their real names by now, but somehow it didn’t seem appropriate to call them anything else. “Can I stay with you for a few more days? I will need some time to come up with a plan, but if the Mistress of Evil has to go, I’d at least like her to go out with a bang and not a whimper.”
Mooky looked at Mrs. Mooky who smiled warmly at Quill. “Of course you can. Anything we can do, we’ll be happy to. For an Incarnation of Evil, you’re quite a good neighbor!”
“If a little nuts,” the Mayor added, but he was beaming a genuine smile.
Quill looked around her. All the villagers were looking at her and nodded their agreement. She gulped, “Well, I’ll do my best!” she promised.
As the meeting broke up, Quill found herself torn. She felt sure she should be upset that all her attempts to become a real Mistress of Evil had instead resulted in her being turned into the town nut case. Yet somehow she couldn’t muster up the emotion to be upset. With Mrs. Mooky holding her hand as they walked back to her hut, something decidedly NOT evil was washing over her. She liked these people, despite their conviction that she was as crazy as a loon. Still, they saw her as THEIR crazy loon, and that made her feel warm inside.
The zealots that had caused her to lose her place with them must pay for that.
……………………………
The next day Quill was racking her brain trying to come up with a plan. Calling themselves the Knights of Stendarr, nonetheless there were only five of them, so it wasn’t like they were a big group. The small cult of Stendarr and had taken it upon themselves to rid the countryside of all evil forces they came across. Yet for all her imagination, she simply could not think of a good plan until the next morning. She awoke from sleeping on Mooky’s couch with the plan firm in her brain, as if someone had planted it there. But she needed gold.
She explained her plan to Mrs. Mooky who, true to her socializing nature, came up with a plan to hold a bake sale. Quill found herself helping Mrs. Mooky bake cookies and cupcakes that afternoon while Mooky himself spread the word around town. Though Quill protested, Mrs. Mooky insisted that she wear her Mistress of Evil outfit.
“Oh you have to wear it Mistress! It’ll bring so much more interest!” she said as they were putting the baked goods into little containers for sale.
“But… I’m going to be selling cookies! The Incarnation of Evil can’t be seen selling cookies!!!”
“Sure you can. It’s just the townsfolk. They know you anyway. Come on, you’ve gotta wear it.”
Quill got an idea. “I’ll wear mine if you’ll wear yours!”
That caused Mrs. Mooky to pause for a minute, but then she smiled. “I’ll DO it! The Mistress of Evil and Evil Woman will unite!”
A few minutes later, the Mistress of Evil and the mysterious Evil Woman emerged from the hut and set up a small table. Mooky tacked on a little signboard in front of them that read “Evil Bake Sale”. Below that it read “Mistress of Evil” on Quill’s side and “Evil Woman” on Mrs. Mooky’s side with crude hand-painted caricatures of each.
The line started forming ten minutes after they’d set up and sales were brisk. However, Evil Woman had to explain to the Mistress of Evil why she should stay seated when the customers came up to pay.
“Mistress,” she whispered as Quill was sitting back down after completing a transaction with an elderly man who seemed to walk away disappointed. “You’re not giving them a chance!”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Evil Woman told the waiting customers that they’d be right back, then she took Quill back a few steps to explain in private.
“Mistress, you need to stay seated. They can’t look down your cleavage at all if you stand up.”
“My cleavage? What does that have to do with anything?”
Her sidekick let out an exasperated sigh. “Mistress! Do you really think they just came here to buy cookies?! Give them a SHOW! After that bonfire scene, they expect at least a little something extra.”
“Oh! I see. Well, if that’s what it takes…” Quill said, and turned her back to the customers and unceremoniously pulled her boobs up higher behind her bodice before turning back. “Let’s start the show!”
After that the money really started to come in on Quill’s side as well as on Mrs. Mooky’s. In fact, she had to remind some customers to take their cookies and cupcakes as they seemed to have forgotten just what it was they were buying. Eventually Quill noticed that the same faces seemed to be coming back. She mentioned it to Mrs. Mooky, who just explained that there were some lonely men in town with more gold than sense. Finally, though, all the products were sold out and Quill stood, getting ready to pack up the table.
“Sorry sir, we’re all out,” Quill said sadly.
“Oh, well… that’s okay. Take this coin anyway,” he said and dropped it between her boobs before turning and heading back to the back of the line.
“Wait a second! E.W., selling cookies in skimpy outfits is one thing, but we’re not going that far are we?!” Quill said standing up indignantly while she fished out the coin.
The next guy in line offered to buy the coin for two more.
“Enough! Thank you for coming gentlemen!” the Mistress of Evil declared, glaring at the pervert.
………………………………………
“So, how much did we make?” Mrs. Mooky asked as they sat at the kitchen table while Quill-Weave counted the coins.
“Two hundred and sixty! My lord that’s a lot for some cookies and cupcakes!”
Mooky was sitting with them, smiling broadly. “There’s a lot of lonely men in this town.”
“Apparently,” Quill-Weave agreed. “But desperate times call for desperate measures. I’m just glad the women didn’t mind!”
Mrs. Mooky laughed, “Oh, we’re a pretty pragmatic folk here Mistress. There’s a lot of lonely women here too. They won’t be so lonely tonight. So, will that be enough for what you need?”
“I certainly hope so. With what I have with me and this, it should cover my trip as well as the scroll I need. I’ll leave tomorrow morning. With luck, I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
…………………………………………
The ride to Cheydinhal was thankfully uneventful and she was able to find a mage selling just the scroll she was looking for. She made it back to the village before the sun had gone down.
The Faceless Mook was waiting for her along with his wife.
“So, did you get what you were looking for?” Mrs. Mooky asked excitedly.
“Sure did!” Quill answered. “No problem. I even have a few coins left over! Here, you take them. For your hospitality. Now, just direct me to how to get to that village where they were last seen.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you, Quill? I might be able to help. You need your sidekick don’t you?” Mrs. Mooky asked, though Quill noticed she didn’t protest when accepting the change. But then again, Quill-Weave didn’t bother to correct her using her real name.
“I appreciate it, but no. You’re a married woman with responsibilities. I don’t want you to get in trouble if things should go wrong.”
“Well, if you insist. Just head down that trail going across the road to the west. It will take you straight there. Here, I brought your outfit.”
Quill thanked the two and headed off in the other direction. She waited till they were out of sight before changing and becoming, if for one last time, the Mistress of Evil. Then she headed down the trail as the sun set in the west.
The lights of the village appeared soon after. It didn’t take long to find the men she was looking for. They were in a clearing outside of the village proper, goading an old Khajit man.
“Come on you mangy cat,” one was saying while pulling the man’s tail. “We know witches love their cats. You must know something!”
The Khajiit looked like this had been going on for quite some time. He just sat stoically while another man poked him with a stick.
“No one’s going to help you here. Want another dunk in the river?”
“Yeah,” said a third. “I can get a bag. Isn’t that how you dispose of cats? Bag them up and throw them in a river?”
Quill saw a little shiver run through the Khajiit, then he went silent again. Then she noticed his eyes were open and unfocused. In fact, they were so clouded by cataracts he must effectively have been blind. Suddenly she really began to hate these men. Stendarr or no, they were doing nothing but torturing this poor creature. She pulled out her Scroll of Terrifying Presence and cast the spell. Instantly they all turned to her as the Mistress of Evil approached them boldly. Even the blind Khajiit squeaked timidly.
“BEGONE YOU! I AM THE MISTRESS OF EVIL. BEGONE AND NEVER RETURN OR YOU SHALL FACE MY WRATH!” she shouted. One broke and ran, followed by another. The other three looked on the verge of doing the same.
“YOU REMAIN? FOOLISH MORTALS, IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO DIE!!!” she screamed as they backed right up to the nearby river. She raised her hands as if to cast a powerful spell. Two screamed and ran headlong in opposite directions. But the last did something unexpected. He raised his hands and a purple glow infused them, rapidly covering him entirely. Now it was the Mistress of Evil’s turn to step back.
“Good try, witch!” he smiled. Then he cast a spell not at her, but at the backs of his fleeing companions. "JONAH! HURRASH! Come back here! She’s just using a spell!“
The purple glow enveloped the two and they stopped, then returned, encircling Quill.
"Yes, you do look like your effigy,” said the mage in front of her. “A reptilian witch. What? No response?”
He began walking towards her as the other two approached from both sides. A feeling of panic washed over her and she looked around for an escape route. She knew she didn’t have much time.
“Not much of a witch,” one of the other men said.
“Oh, she’s a witch alright,” said the mage, and he cast another spell, this time directly at Quill-Weave. Instantly she felt tired – so tired she couldn’t even stand. She fell to the ground with a grunt.
“Tie her up boys! Now, how do we deal with witches?”
“DROWN HER!” the two responded with gusto as one of them wrapped up her hands and feet in rope.
“Oh no! No gentlemen. We don’t drown anyone! We just test them. If she floats, she’s a witch and we burn her at the stake. If she sinks, she’s innocent!”
“Oh yeah!” said one of the others. “That’s right.”
Quill-Weave detected two flaws in that testing method, the salient one being that she could breathe underwater, but decided she’d rather not participate regardless. She bolted towards the smallest of the men, hoping to slip past him. Unfortunately he was also the fastest of the men. He had her tackled and flailing on the ground before she could get two steps past him. A minute later she was completely hogtied. The one good thing, she was happy to see the old Khajiit getting away.
“And now, my fine fellows,” said the mage, “let’s give her the old Heave-Ho!”
They carried her up to the edge of the rushing water and began to swing her when a large dark shape in brown leather crashed into one of them. Had Quill-Weave’s snout not been tied up as well, she would have cried for joy.
“Oh no you don’t!” Evil Woman screamed, shoving one of the men into the rushing river. She turned immediately to the other man who was still holding Quill-Weave’s hands and even behind the mask Quill could see the rage burning in her eyes. The woman ran full speed and head first into the other, knocking him to the ground. Though he was struggling valiantly, Evil Woman sat firmly upon his head and his struggles began to subside.
But the mage had recovered his composure by then, and a flash of red flew from his hands and struck Evil Woman. She rolled paralyzed off the man underneath her as he struggled to regain his wits.
“A Coven! Jonah, we’ve found a Coven! Quick, tie the big one up. The spell won’t last long. Tie her tight. There may be others, but they’ll talk. Oh yes! Now that we’ve got proof, we can do whatever we like with them!”
Evil Woman shot him a glare that would melt ice, but she was unable to speak.
The third man, wet but unharmed, came stumbling back from downriver shortly after and helped tie the two up to a tree back-to-back. They’d untied Quill’s snout so she could talk fortunately.
“Sorry E.W.,” Quill said when she was able to. “I’m not very good at planning I’m afraid. I told you not to come.”
E.W.’s voice was slurred, but Quill could make it out clearly enough. “Not your fault Mistress. You couldn’t know they had a mage.”
“Shut up you two,” the man they called Jonah said, kicking E.W. in the stomach with enough force to knock the wind out of her.
“That’s right. We’ll ask the questions here. So, how many others are in on your little witchcraft game around here LADIES?” asked the mage. “Let’s start with that.”
“There are no witches around here,” E.W. replied. “The only evil mage around here is YOU!”
“Hah!” he said, bending low. “Look at you. Why, you’re practically the poster child for witches! I serve Stendarr, one of the eight Divines you hag! Now it’s time to talk before we burn the both of you. We’ll burn you anyway, but at least we’ll burn you whole.”
“Ken,” said one of the men. “Isn’t that a little drastic?”
“SHUT UP!” screamed the mage and struck the man hard across the chin sending him to the ground. “They are pure evil and must be destroyed! They work their seductive magic on us even now! Look at those heaving breasts, you! Those nubile curves! Why, even the reptile is trying to seduce us now that she can no longer wield her magic! Is there anything more evil and perverted than that? They must BURN and quickly, before we are reduced to less than men!”
“Too late,” a voice said quietly from behind them.
The three spun around and looked at a little man, dressed in a ridiculous minion ‘armor’ that likely couldn’t stop a pin.
“Are you with these?” the mage asked, somewhat flustered and red-faced after his tirade.
“Oh, yes! The Argonian lady is my employer, the Mistress of Evil. And the other is my wife, whom I love dearly. Clarisse, are you alright?”
“KEVIN! What are you DOING here?!”
“Yes, little man. What ARE you doing here?” the mage demanded, and sparks flew between his balled up fists.
“I’m here to rescue them from you of course,” Mooky squeaked.
“YOU? HA! What can you do little man? We are allied with Stendarr and will vanquish all evil, including these witches AND you, admitted witch-lover!”
“Uh… Boss…” one of the men said, backing away from the mage but not looking at him.
“Me? Oh, not much. But I can rescue them from you two.”
“Two? There’s three of us you nitwit!”
“Not anymore,” Mooky said, smiling and Quill noticed a flicker of light dance across his face followed by smoke.
The mage swung around to see hundreds of torches bobbing up and down approaching from the nearby village. His remaining companion was already running like the devil was at his heels in the opposite direction.
Mooky ignored the mage and knelt beside his wife and Quill, brandishing a meager knife that was barely as long as the rope that bound them. It was, however, incredibly sharp.
“What? What is this? We are the Knights of Stendarr! You cannot escape so easily!” the mage said, his hands glowing in a myriad of colors, rapidly changing as he desperately searched for a spell to use. But the torches were getting very close now and Quill saw the face of the Mayor of Mooky’s village as well as another man similarly dressed. They did not look happy.
“Don’t,” Mooky advised the mage, who looked at Quill’s little minion with fear for the first time. But Mooky wasn’t looking at him. He was sawing through Quill-Weave’s bonds now that E.W. was loose. “It won’t go well for you if you try to use magic now. No matter what you do, you’ll be overwhelmed in a minute. The way I see it, you have three choices. You run, and hope you run faster than my wife. You can give up, and throw yourself on the mercy of the villagers. Or you can fight and get taken down by all the people you don’t manage to hurt.”
Quill felt the bond snap loose and she unwrapped the remaining rope from around her hands and feet. Mooky turned back to the mage then, without getting up.
“But I also should warn you of three things too. One, We can be pretty savage out here in the countryside, especially to those who would hurt our families. You wouldn’t survive the last choice.”
The mage looked at him, down at his hands, and then at the crowd approaching, now just a few yards away.
“Two,” Mooky went on, “If you give up, you still may be put to death. We really don’t have Defense Lawyers out here. I wouldn’t call our justice system exactly ‘Fair’. But we like it.”
The mage took off at a dead run, straight down along the river’s edge. A flash leaped after him. A dark, large flash of brown leather.
“Three,” Mooky said, turning to Quill-Weave and helping her up and smiling broadly. “My wife can outrun a deer.”
Quill looked past the little man. Though the figures were rapidly dimming, she saw Mrs. Mooky collide with the mage at a speed unbelievable for a woman of her size. The mage didn’t have a chance. Quill saw his body fly away from the point of impact as if it had wings, landing with a splash in a shallow, but very rocky, section of the river before being carried off to the waterfall just a little farther downstream. He was never seen or heard from again.
…………………….
Almost three months had passed. Quill had resumed her normal life back in Anvil, but every once in a while she would see the old outfit in the back of her closet and a pang of regret would pass through her. Though her exploits had been far from what she’d envisioned when she first donned her Evil persona, she still thought about them from time to time, but without Mooky and her Evil Tower of Doom, she knew any attempt to relive that experience would just be disappointing now.
A knock came on the door unexpectedly. Quill automatically looked to her calendar, but no – there were no deliveries expected for today. She dressed and answered the door. The little man outside was the last person she ever expected to see again.
“Hello Mistress,” he said.
Quill-Weave looked anxiously up and down the street, whispering, “You can call me Quill-Weave here Mooky. How on earth did you find me? I didn’t know you knew where I lived!”
“Well, no. We didn’t. But the wife found your Khajiit friend in the Imperial City and after a little persuasion she pointed us your way. I’m ever so sorry to intrude.”
“Oh, come in and bring Mrs. Mooky in to for heaven’s sakes!” Quill said, seeing the big woman still sitting on a wagon that had seen better days.
After pleasantries were made, Mrs. Mooky got down to business.
“Mistress,” she said plainly, “we miss you in the village. Things just haven’t been the same without you.”
“Oh, and I miss you-all too Clarisse.”
Faceless Mook started next, “We were going to send you a letter, but we know how you value your privacy, Mistress. But maybe, if you are interested anyway… We’ve rebuilt your tower.”
“What?” Quill said, dumbfounded and looking to Mrs. Mooky for confirmation.
The big woman nodded her head, a naturally cheery smile coming over her face. “It’s true. The whole village pitched in. Mistress, to put it simply, we want you back.”
“I… don’t know what to say! The whole village you say? You rebuilt my Evil Tower of Doom?”
“Good as new,” Mooky said proudly. “We even aged it up for you. We knocked a hole in the roof and put a whole family of bats back inside too!”
Quill frowned. “I’m not sure if THAT was necessary. But… well…”
“Oh please come, Mistress. Even if you don’t want to stay. Just come and visit won’t you?”
She needed no further persuasion. In a flash she had a suitcase packed and was rattling across the roads of Cyrodiil. True to their word, the tower was back. If it smelled a bit of fresh paint and wallpaper, what of that? At least superficially it looked amazingly similar to the original. The carpenter had even installed a new Throne of Skulls and, sure enough, a fake torture rack in the basement.
Tears were in her eyes when she came down the stairs from her lair at the top of the tower. “Oh Mooky, Mrs. Mooky! I don’t know what to say!”
“Well, you’d better come up with something because there’s a whole village waiting outside to hear you,” Mrs. Mooky said.
Quill stared and darted to a window by the stairs. Sure enough there must have been a hundred people coming up the path to the tower and they cheered when they saw her looking out.
“Tell them to wait! I’ve got to get my outfit on!” she cried and raced back up to her room to change.
In a flash she the Mistress of Evil was ready. She tried to don her Evil Persona as well, but a terribly non-Evil smile kept stealing over her features. She stepped outside of her Tower to a quite respectable cheer for a bunch of villagers.
“Now what’s all this!” she demanded in her best Evil voice. “Torches and pitchforks will avail you nothing against the Mistress of Evil! Begone you vile mob!”
The mayor stepped up to her, handing her a small box. “Yes Mistress,” he laughed. “We will leave you in peace to terrorize the countryside as you will. But before we go, we wanted to give you this as a token of our… fear.”
The Mistress of Evil may have choked up a bit, but she accepted the large box and unwrapped it. Inside was the most beautiful pure-white cake she had ever seen. In black lettering it read, “Welcome Back, Mistress!” Atop it was a very respectable likeness of her, even if it was naked and carrying a pumpkin.
She looked up and her mouth was shaking. The mayor and the townspeople all nodded and seemed to be satisfied and left the way they had come.
“But,” Quill said before they’d got far. “But don’t you all think I’m just crazy?”
“Certifiable,” said the carpenter whom she recognized.
“Daft as a Loon,” said the innkeeper. “But you’re OUR Loon Mistress. Welcome back!”
They all shouted “Welcome Back!” in unison, then left the way they had come.
“We’ll leave you be. I’ll be back in the morning Mistress,” said the Faceless Mook as he and his wife followed the others.
She watched them go and closed the box. “Nice people,” she had to admit, and went back to the door.
The new latch fairly sparkled in it’s silver frame. But it wouldn’t open.
Madman read some fanfiction on the Prequel stream tonight and he was SO friggin good that I persuaded him and Kaz to let me pay him for voice work and read my latest fanfic. This is the result. I left it fully intact, with all weirdness in place. I might edit it at some point, but I kinda like leaving it as-is.
She opened the letter from her tailor in the Imperial City immediately upon receipt from the courier.
“Dear Mistress of Evil,” the letter started. Quill-Weave was happy to see that the Khajiit had addressed the letter appropriately as she had requested. Though of course the tailor knew full well who she was, it wouldn’t do to spread that word around too liberally.
“It is with the greatest of concern that I write this to you. Two days ago I happened upon that crazy mage I told you about. You remember, the one who sold me those rubies? Well we began to talk and it appears that they were enchanted! As best I can gather – you must understand the nutjob is very hard to comprehend – they are enchanted with an invisibility enchantment. If you touch the one with the skull engraving while repeating the word "Hej” three times, it will activate the others and the invisibility will be engaged. The word “Xhu” will disable it. I apologize deeply for this and will be more than happy to replace them with regular stones. You need only stop in the shop and I will gladly swap them out for you!“
Quill-Weave looked down at the red skull ruby on her bodice and smiled an evil smile.
"I bet you will!” she thought. “Didn’t know you were selling me an enchanted outfit did you?”
She decided to wait till the next day when Faceless Mook came back from his vacation to test it out on him.
The next morning she heard him enter downstairs and called down to him, “Be down in a few minutes Mooky. Please can you put the cat out for me?”
“Sure thing Mistress!” he called back.
She heard him downstairs and said the word three times while touching the stone. Nothing happened, but she also had no idea how it was supposed to work either. She then crept downstairs as silently as she could and heard him outside. She hid behind the door until he came back in. He went to his workbench and began working on the door latch again.
She silently walked around right in front of him, but there was no reaction. She was totally invisible to him! She smiled a toothy grin and crept back up the stairs.
After saying the words to disable the enchantment she returned down the stairs as if nothing had happened.
“Oh! Working on that latch again?”
“Yes Mistress. I really can’t figure out why it’s so much of a problem. Here, look… See, it’s really a very simple mechanism. The only thing I can figure is that the little axle gets stuck somehow.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m no good with such things Mooky. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Say, are the villagers still holding that festival tonight?”
Faceless Mook perked up at that. “Oh yes! It’s the talk of the village! I really wish you’d come. My wife is dying to meet you too. She forgives you for that whole salt thing.”
“Ah, well, tell them thanks. I’ve come to terms that I won’t be doing my Evil Deeds around here anyway. But really, it just wouldn’t be seemly for Evil Incarnate to show up and dance with a bunch of villagers now, would it?”
Her minion sighed. “I guess not. We’re going to have a big bonfire though! Really it would be so nice of you to join.”
“Well, I’ll think about it. Now I’m off to start planning my next Villainous Deed.”
“Okay, let me know if you need any help,” Mooky said, turning back to his work.
In fact, she was planning her next Villainous Deed. With her invisibility outfit, the idea was practically thrown into her lap. During the fall festival, Quill would activate her invisibility and create a jack-o-lantern. But this one would magically appear at the festival, floating on air! The superstitious rubes would freak out! Oh, maybe it wasn’t as Evil as some ideas, but she would definitely get a kick out of seeing them run screaming from the Magic Jack-O-Lantern. She grabbed a nice fat pumpkin from the garden out back and sequestered herself in her room with a knife and a spoon.
Three pumpkins later and she finally felt she had just the right look of menace on the pumpkin’s carved face. The fact that she’d managed to get pumpkin brains all over herself didn’t bother her since she’d wisely removed her Evil outfit beforehand. But she needed a bath.
“Hey Mooky? Could you make a bath for me?”
“Sure Mistress! I’ll start heating the water up now. But, can I leave early today after that? The wife wants me to get dressed up for the festival.”
“No problem. I’m going to go to bed early tonight anyway. Give her my regards. Just let me know when you leave.”
Some little while later, she heard her minion call up the stairs, “Okay Qu… I mean, Mistress. The bath is ready. I’ve left a towel and soap right beside it. I’m heading out now.”
“Okay, thank you Mookey! You’re the best!”
When she’d heard the door close, she went downstairs and climbed into the bath. The water was just right. She decided right then that, if she saw Faceless Mook and his wife at the festival, she’d steer clear of them. His wife really had been awfully accommodating to her, and she felt a little bad at having not met her yet.
The day turned to night and Quill was all prepared. She waited until the hour was getting late, then she crept towards the village. Keeping to the wooded area around the clearing, she could see all the townspeople gathered around a large bonfire. Most were dancing while a few were playing some crude instruments and others yet were obviously somewhat drunk and singing badly at the top of their voices. She waited until she spotted Mooky and a large woman she assumed to be his wife nearby. They were on the far side of the fire happily so she decided to focus her efforts nearby.
She touched the ruby and repeated the incantation. Then she lit the candle and placed it within the pumpkin. Raising it high overhead, she stepped out of the woods. As expected, many of the villagers pointed and shrieked. She waved the pumpkin up and down as she circled the fire. But instead of screaming and running away in terror, she noticed most of them just made a pathway for the haunted jack-o-lantern. While the children pointed, most of the adults just shushed them and made them look away.
A little frustrated, she blew out the candle and went back into the woods. While she’d obviously caused a bit of an uproar at first, it was certainly not the terrified spectacle she was expecting. She dropped the pumpkin in the woods and went back to her castle. Once again, the latch wasn’t working. She fiddled with it but finally sat down in front of the door in frustration. At least it wasn’t cold or raining, she thought.
Then a figure came out of the gloom. It was Faceless Mook, and she was glad to see him.
“MOOKY! Just the man I was looking for! This latch is stuck again.”
“Hi Mistress. Sure, give me just a second and I’ll get it open.”
True to his word, with a little help from a small tool he kept nearby he had the latch open.
Once inside, the little man sat down at the table.
“What is it Mooky? What brings you here tonight of all nights? Don’t you want to be at the festival?” she said, smiling a little.
“Well, yes, but the wife insisted I come and talk to you. I’m sorry Quill… I mean Mistress. But it’s kind of hard to talk while you’re naked.”
Quill looked at him puzzled and looked down at herself. “Naked? I’m not nak… Oh no. OH NO!!!”
Quill-Weave’s pupils went from her normal slits to fully dilated.
“Thanks for coming to the festival anyway, Mistress. But, it’s not really a fertility festival,” Mooky said.
“But… this morning! You… I…”
“It’s okay Mistress. I know you’re a little eccentric in your dressing habits. But the rest of the villagers don’t know you that well. I… well, I suggest you wear clothes pretty much all the time when you come into the village, even if you sometimes don’t around here.”
………………………
Dear Mae the Tailor,
I thank you for your letter of yesterday. However, in the future I would appreciate it if you could be a little more PRECISE in your language. I’m afraid I misunderstood a critical aspect of your missive.
I will be in next week to have suitable alterations made to the garment.
Author’s note: Images blatantly and obviously edited from Kazerad’s original Evil Quill-Weave posts. I don’t think he’ll mind. I really like this one. And it’s almost not lewd! (almost). Thanks to the discord folks on UPD5 for providing me with the worst imaginable names for Evil Quill-Weave by the way!
“You need a name if you’re going to be an arch-villain you know,” said the Faceless Mook. “You can’t just be some nameless mystery villain.”
Quill-Weave sat back on her new throne of skulls. Well, it was painted like skulls anyway. “I know, I know. But it’s so hard to come up with a good name. Got any ideas?”
“How about Quill-Reave?”
Quill wrinkled her face in disgust. “No. Lady something. Or maybe Mistress something.”
“Lady Quill-Reave?”
“Too close to my real name too. No, it needs to bear some reflection on me though. Something unique.”
“Baddy Two-Tits?”
The wine spurted from her nose. “Cute.”
“Mistress Cannonball Rack?”
“If possible, see if you can take your mind out of my cleavage and think! Maybe something random…”
“Lady Kazerad”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What kind of name is Kazerad?”
“A shitty one.”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes sense.”
“Um… Kill-Weave?”
Quill sighed. “I told you, it’s hard! Let’s go with that for now. But I retain the option to change it later! For now, Mistress Kill-Weave will do.”
“And I suppose I’m just supposed to call you Mistress?”
“Of course! Like all good minions do.”
Faceless Mook stood up from the ebony (colored) table and stretched, “Well, Mistress, I’m going to call it a day. The wife said I have to be home early today to help clean up the hovel.”
“You don’t tell her where you go every day do you?
“Of course I do. Quill…”
“Mistress!”
“Sorry – Mistress, she’s my wife. I tell her everything I do.”
“What do you tell her?”
“I tell her I’m going back to that crazy Argonian’s tower.”
“And… she doesn’t mind?”
“Not when I bring back money every day.”
“What if we were having an affair? What about that?” Quill asked, rather insulted.
“If I was bringing back money every day, she’d call me a gigolo. And then take the money.”
“You don’t tell her where my secret lair is, do you?”
“Quill…”
“MISTRESS!”
“Mistress, everyone in the village knows where your secret lair is.”
“They do?”
“They do.”
“Do they cower in fear?”
“Not… precisely. But the carpenter did say nice things about you after you bought that chair from him.”
“Throne.”
“Sorry, ‘Throne’”
“Throne of Skulls.”
“Throne of Carved Skulls. Carved, painted skulls.”
“Well dammit, where am I supposed to get real skulls at anyway?”
“There’s always the graveyard.”
“EWWW! That’s just gross!”
“Sorry Mistress. But I gotta be going.”
“Alright, but I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Noon.”
“Bright and early tomorrow at noon then.”
“Goodnight Quill.”
“MISTRESS!!!”
“Goodnight Mistress,” said the Faceless Mook, as he removed his Mook outfit and put on his regular clothes and walked out the door, taking care to jiggle the handle so it latched properly.
“Well, every villain has to start with what she has available,” the Mistress of Evil thought to herself. “Now, I need to start thinking about the future. I have to do something Evil. What canI do that’s Evil tonight? Hmmm…”
She rose from her throne and began the ascent to her bedroom. As she rounded the circular stairs to the top of the tower, she looked out from one of the small arched windows.
“No, you peed out the window last night. Besides, then I’d just have to clean it up again in the morning. Something even more Evil than that…”
Eventually she gave up, removed her Evil garb, and continued her writing. She found that her writing was inspired by these monthly trips to her lair at least. It wasn’t till she had climbed into bed that she finally got an idea. Suddenly she was wide awake. Those stupid villagers. They were probably talking about the crazy Argonian lady even now. That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all! She had to inspire fear, and if she couldn’t even get those rubes to fear her, what was the point?
But now she had a plan. It would have to wait until they were all asleep, but then she would strike!
She heard the bats flying in and out of the attic above her. Mooky had wanted to clear them out, but she knew better. They were atmosphere. The dungeon was even better. The manacles were a bit pricey, and they hadn’t a speck of nice authentic rust on them yet, but they were necessary. She’d considered buying a rack, but those things were damnably expensive! The carpenter could make a fake one she guessed.
Finally the candle had burned low and she estimated it must be after midnight. She smiled a toothy grin that would have made an alligator proud and donned her villain outfit again. She only got her tail stuck once this time and felt she was getting better at it. Then she took the remains of her candle and crept down the stairs, pausing momentarily to get what she needed.
Then she slunk out into the cool night air. Before she’d gotten halfway to the village, she realized it was too cool. A breeze was coming up as a storm approached. Suddenly a bolt of lightning flashed in the distance and the slow rolling rumble of thunder swelled.
“That’s more like it,” she thought. “This is a night for Evil. Tonight, Mistress Kill-Weave will strike fear into the hearts of those who would mock her! Crazy Argonian indeed! I’ll show them crazy!”
The moonlight disappeared as the racing clouds covered it just as she neared the outskirts of the village. Just as she’d hoped, the lights were all out and not a sound was heard, but for a dog yapping from some far-away hut.
Suddenly she realized something.
“What if they have a dog?”
As she approached the door of the nearest hut she looked around her for signs of any pet. Her worries were dispelled when she saw the yellow eyes of a black cat watching her. “No, no dogs here!” she realized.
As if in assurance, the cat padded over to her and stroked itself against her leg. For a moment she wondered if cats could breathe underwater, but banished the thought as irrelevant and unproductive. Instead, she slid from shadow to shadow until she was at the door. She tried the latch.
“Unlocked. Of course. The innocent peons,” she laughed to herself. Soon they would lock their doors and bolt their windows every night now that Mistress Kill-Weave was near! The door opened directly into the kitchen, and was as silent as she was. It took only a little time to find what she was looking for.
When she emerged, the storm was growing stronger and threatening to unleash it’s fury any minute as flash after flash of lightning guided her back to her lair. It was as if her own dark lord’s will was at play. The howl of the wind was now growing and she laughed out loud, knowing the scene of chaos that would present itself in the morning. The laugh, lost on the wind, was the perfect cackle of an Evil Overlord.
Still, she thought, damn but these leggings are thin. The wind raced right up her dress and sent a shiver over her that was at once thrilling and damned embarrassing. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn the Evil Outfit after all.
Suddenly something slapped her hard in the face as the wind caught hold of her dress in earnest and blew the front of it smack into her snout. She pushed it away, and used her tail to hold down the back side.
And then the rain started. It went from dry to monsoon in less than a second. As she staggered towards the tower through the woods, she realized her high-heels were no longer appropriate in the rain. She would definitely need to get boots. She removed her shoes, then remembered that she would ruin her leggings if she tried walking in them. Those things weren’t cheap either. She wondered momentarily if leather was okay to get wet, but decided it was pointless now. She did what was necessary and removed the leggings and tucked them under one arm as her other tried in vain to keep the front of her dress down with her free hand.
She was no longer feeling a thrill at having a breeze blow up her dress. Now she just felt cold, wet, and naked. Miserable. She recalled Mae’s admonition, “Be that woman.” Well, that woman wouldn’t be in this mess. But she saw the tower just ahead and at least she was almost safe within its walls where she could dry off and try and salvage some dignity. At least no one had seen her.
But something had seen her. Suddenly she saw two glowing yellow eyes. The cat. It was hissing as it bounded towards her. She tried to avoid it before she stepped on it, but it let out a yowl as she tripped over it and she fell headlong into the mud just in front of the tower door. The leggings were buried in mud. Slime and muck dripped from her forehead as she raised her head to look at the door she’d almost reached, and some of the water that flowed down her cheeks was not rain.
She staggered up again, now filthy as well as wet and reached the door. The latch wouldn’t budge. She pounded on the door, but the latch diligently did its duty and stayed latched. She slid down and cried.
Only a merciful God could explain why the door gave way when she was at her most wretched, but open it did and she crawled in.
Eventually her tears dried up. She peeled herself out of the wet leather dress, found a towel, and dried herself off. Then she half-walked and half crawled up the stairs to her room and wriggled into bed. A few tears found their way out that apparently she’d saved up when she thought of the beautiful outfit she’d surely ruined.
When she awoke, an afternoon sun was shining through the window. A fresh set of clothes was waiting on the nearby table that she stared at uncomprehendingly for a while. Then she realized she was laying across the bed in her normal posture upon awakening, her upper body slung over the edge. She felt oddly breezy too.
Then she remembered the night’s disaster and realized she was still naked. Somebody had been in here and put those clothes out for her. She closed her eyes and fought to make circumstances different by sheer willpower. It didn’t work. She got out of bed and put on the clothes and went downstairs.
“Good afternoon, Mistress!” Faceless Mook said in greeting.
She wasn’t sure if the man could see the blush on her face. “Good afternoon Mooky. I suppose that was you who left the clothes?”
“Sure was Miss Nipless! I saw your outfit by the door when I came in too. Took ‘em to my wife. Look here. Good as new!”
Suddenly Quill-Weave’s attitude brightened considerably. She took the proffered clothes and held them up. They were as advertised. Even the leggings showed no sign of the previous night’s disaster.
“Oh, Mooky! THANK YOU!” Quill said, tears of joy running down her cheeks as she gave him a hug fit for another Argonian.
“Aww, wasn’t nothing. My wife did most of the work. She’s a wizard with laundry. You should meet her sometime.”
“I will! I will!”
“We figured you got stuck out in that storm last night. It was an awful storm. You must have been soaked.”
“Oh I was. But I made it back. Eventually.”
"Well, all’s well that ends well. Now, come and sit down. The wife made you something special for your troubles.”
The cake on the table looked like it was made by an angel. Quill walked over to it, her eyes wide and sparkling.
“For me?”
“Of course it’s for you! Here, I’ve cut you a slice already. Say, what were you doing out there last night anyway?”
“I… well… I was doing something… evil.”
“Oh! What did you do? Kill some innocent animal or something?”
“No. I started thinking about what you said. About the villagers. That business about the crazy Argonian lady. I took my revenge!”
Suddenly the face on the Faceless Mook became worried.
“Really? Your first real Evil Deed? What did you do?”
“Mooky, I did the most evil thing imaginable. I sneaked into someone’s house and…”
“Yes? What did you DO Mistress?!”
“I… replaced their sugar with… SALT!” she said with an evil grin as she stuffed a big bite of cake into her mouth.
After two full glasses of water, she was able to talk again. But she didn’t say anything. She just sat on her skull throne, sobbing miserably. She didn’t even see Faceless Mook take the cake away and throw it into the trash bin. He left quietly after that, deciding that she probably wanted to be left alone.
OMG! I didn’t upload this one already? It’s one of my favorites too. I uploaded it to the Prequel Fanart page but not here apparently. If I have already uploaded it, sorry – I couldn’t find it when I looked though. Part 2 to follow in just a bit. Mostly uploading it because I’m going to start a Part 3 soon.
Somebody thought it was NSFW on the booru. I think that’s pushing it though so I’m keeping it here. Sorry, not many illustrations here. A few on Part 2 though.
The idea had been fermenting in her for months. ‘Foment’ might be the better word choice, she realized, but with the added implication of alcohol involvement it seemed more appropriate. It was during her travels doing research on the doomstones that it had truly moved from a fanciful thought process to a more concrete notion. A rumor had come to her of an undocumented doomstone deep in the forests south of the Corbolo River. Since a known doomstone, the Shadow Stone, was in the region anyway it made sense to travel there.
Of course she had gotten lost, but in a very real sense, that was kind of the goal. She’d hired a retainer to act as her guide and, though practically mute, he seemed competent enough. Then they came across a sight she’d not expected. It was a tower, long abandoned but still serviceable, hidden deep within the forest and apparently completely forgotten. Upon her return from her travels, she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It was her secret, she decided. Her and that retainer anyway. But she’d paid him well to keep quiet, not that he apparently knew any other way, the faceless Mook. She didn’t even tell her lover, Casta, and that was saying something.
However, it was Casta that really was the impetus that began Quill-Weave’s descent into evil. Of course, she’d long been fascinated with the criminal element of society, yet they never measured up to her imagination. Inevitably, when you got right down to it, the criminal mind was one of two types. One was usually a decent enough chap who was pushed into law-breaking by circumstances beyond his control, who then realized he liked it. As long as you didn’t cross him or threaten to expose him, he was likely to be a nice guy really.
Then there were the crazies. Sociopathic nutjobs who would do whatever they felt like at any time, to anyone. Those were the dangerous types and she tried to spot them quickly and then head the other way. But even they were… random. They weren’t like the characters in her books, who were always scheming up some nefarious plot or another. The sociopaths were just crazies who had no filter for any whim that blew across their mind. That’s not really evil. It’s more as if they’re just animals who never developed higher civilized brain function.
Those types she didn’t like though, and on more than one occasion she let slip a clue or two for the Legion. Okay, maybe “clue” would be too subtle. She practically handed them notes saying “So and so did this. Here’s proof. Arrest him.” The Legion wasn’t known for its deep cunning or wit.
But an author knows more than most how deep words can cut. Being called a stick-in-the-mud would have been a trivial offense to most. Quill-Weave was particularly susceptible to its deeper implications. She had spent years writing her series on the lowlifes of Cyrodil, and some of those ‘lowlifes’ had become pretty damned ‘high’ in the political world in that time. And she was more than a little aware of just how bourgeois her own life had become, and in the back of her mind she resented it. So it only took a little spark to set her off.
She sat up in bed suddenly one night, realizing what she had to do. She had to become that which she had sought for all her life. She had to become Evil Incarnate. Her search for it in the criminal classes had been fruitless. It didn’t exist. But she was an author. She knew what it must look like and how it must act. And she had enough resources now to make it a reality. So she made a trip to the Imperial City to visit a tailor she knew who worked in specialty products that only particular trades would have a need for.
In front it appeared to be just another shop marketing trinkets and small leather goods and watched over by an equally nondescript Khajiit. She recognized Quill-Weave when the author entered. A quick exchange and Quill was led through a door in the back, then climbed down a hidden trap door to an underground room of illicit and undeniably erotic fabrics, most of which would require a leap of imagination to call them clothing.
“So, the great author returns to this one’s humble shop eh? Another story of prostitution perhaps you are working on?”
“Cut the Khajiit-talk Mae. I’m here as a customer this time, pure and simple. I need something… special.”
“Alright, alright. I get so used to it I sometimes forget who I’m talking to. So, what are you looking for? Something lacy maybe? I’ve got this great new design for a G-string that can even handle an Argonian tail. Here, take a look!”
Quill-Weave took the pink undergarment with disdain, but then looked at it more closely. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out how the damned thing was supposed to work.
Mae took it back from her with a look of disgust. “You really have no experience at all, do you Quill? This is where the tail goes… here. Then this wraps around the front.”
“But then that part is what goes over your… you? But it’s not big enough to cover…”
“Not meant to cover you, silly lizard.”
“But then why would you eve…”
“Oh forget it. What are you looking for?”
“I need something in leather. Black leather.”
“Oh! I didn’t figure you for the S&M type! Top or bottom?”
“Huh? Well, I need both a top and a bottom I guess.”
The Khajiit rolled her eyes. “Newbie eh? No Quill, that refers to if you are the Dominant or the Submissive. Master or Slave?”
“Oh! Well then… Master. Definitively Master.”
“Come this way. How do you feel about studs?”
“I’m not into men, Mae.”
“Jeeze, no Quill. I mean metal studs. I’ve got a wide variety. Spikey, black, chrome. Here, take a look at this rack.”
“Mae, I might like women, but that doesn’t mean I want to see your tits!” Quill responded to a blank-faced Mae.
“So that’s how it is eh?” the Khajiit finally responded when Quill let the smile creep over her face.
“Hey, you started it!”
“You’re okay Quill, but puns are evil,” the little Khajiit laughed, handing her an odd crotch-less pair of pants.
“Um… no Mae. I’m going more for a Master Villain look. Less sex, more severe.”
Though she tried on some very, very interesting outfits, in the end Quill wasn’t satisfied with any of them. None were quite right for the villain she was planning to become, though she did purchase a couple cute ones anyway just to have on hand should the need arise.
“Well, that’s all we’ve got that will fit an Argonian. I’m afraid we’re going to have to go Custom. Let’s go into my office and see if we can come up with something more like what you have in mind.”
Some minutes later, Quill was watching Mae do sketch after sketch as they both made adjustments.
“Now, about the bodice, do you see it as open or closed?”
Quill looked down at her chest. “I’ve not got much in that department. I guess closed.”
Mae noticed the inherent disappointment in the Argonian’s tone. “Nonsense Quill. Stand up.”
She did as she was bid while the Khajiit boldly grabbed her under her tits and lifted them up and pushed them together. Quill squeaked.
“There, now what do you see?”
“I see a cat squeezing my boobs together. Without my permission I might point out!”
“Oh, lighten up Quill. I’m going to have to take measurements in a little bit, and I get need to get very accurate around your tail region. No, Quill, that’s cleavage and plenty of it.”
“But it’s not real. You’re just squeezing my boobs together.”
“Honey, that’s all cleavage is. And I can design it so you look like a double-D.”
“Will it be comfortable, being squeezed like that?”
“Hell no. You’re a Dominatrix remember. You’re not supposed to be comfortable.”
“Oh… yeah. Well then, open if you can make me look like that!”
The Khajiit hastily drew an open bodice.
“More… evil,” Quill commented but a growing smile on her face.
Mae drew what looked almost like horns on the sides, but lowering the bodice even more on both sides.
“That’s… daring!” Quill said, though her wide eyes showed her approval. “My nipples won’t show?”
“Darling, you’re an Argonian. You have the distinct advantage of not having any nipples to worry about! Rock that advantage!”
“You’re right. Let’s go for it! Now, about the dress. I feel like it’s missing something.”
“Yes… You’ll be practically exposed up top. It’s too conservative below. How about a slit up the side?”
They both looked at the sketch for a minute.
“No, not enough,” Mae admitted. “Two slits. Waaay up.”
Quill’s smile became more pronounced. “I’ll never be able to wear any underwear with that.”
“Ah, but I’ve got just the thing for that. Transparent colored leggings underneath. It’s my latest design.”
“Do it Mae. How long?”
“I’ll have it done in a week. Cash up front of course. You can take those other two outfits with you. If you’re going to buy this, they’re on the house. Now, it’s time for measuring. Quill, don’t be shy and let me do my work here. Humans have it easy with just two legs to worry about. Even Khajiits have smallish tails that don’t require a lot of precision. But you Argonians have a massive tail that must be accommodated precisely. I need to know it’s movements from full up to down flat to full left and full right if I’m to do a proper job. So, off with the clothes and lift your tail as high as it goes…”
An hour later, Quill felt like she’d just finished a workout with her lover.
“You sure you don’t want to measure my depth? It seems like the only measurement you haven’t taken.” she quipped as she pulled her skirt on.
“Don’t laugh,” Mae said while scribbling some numbers on a note pad. “I’ve had to do that before. Sorta. I’ve done some very unusual work. But no, I’ve got everything I need now. Of course, I get paid for doing what I do, and paid handsomely. This isn’t going to be cheap.”
She passed a number to Quill.
An eyebrow was raised.
“The other two outfits are free,” the little tailor reminded Quill, her tail swishing from side to side in anticipation of a sale.
“What’s this line item? Rubies?!”
“I have an idea. Trust me.”
“After what you just put me through, I should marry you! Go ahead. But don’t expect a tip!”
“What I just put you through was my tip, dear. See you in a week!”
By the time the week was out, Quill-Weave had worked up something of a lather in anticipation. No arch-villain worth their salt could go without the appropriate outfit after all, and the one she and Mae had worked up was right up there with her own imagination.
At the sight of her, Mae smiled an enigmatic smile and led her down again.
“Oh, I think you’ll like it. Come, try it on!”
A sparkle of red caught her eye. “What’s this?”
“Just try it on. You’ll see.”
Quill started looking around for a dressing room before she caught the disdainful eye of the tailor.
“Quill, I have seen every inch of you. I hardly think you need privacy from me!”
“Well…”
“Quill, if you’re going to wear this, you need to be this. The woman who wears this dress isn’t going to be looking for a dressing room. She’s going to look for a whip. Be that woman, or you’ll never fit the dress.”
Quill closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she smiled in a way that almost looked like a different person. She felt different. She had her old clothes off in an instant, kicking them aside as if kicking away her old life. Then she pulled the snug leather over herself. She needed a little help getting her tail in properly, but otherwise it fit like it was tailor-made for her, which of course it was.
The look on Mae’s face told her all she needed to know, but she submitted to be led to a full-length mirror anyway.
“Now, put on these leggings,” Mae said, handing her some very sheer, very stretchable cloth in a shocking purple color.
“Mae. This is practically transparent. I told you, this wasn’t for sex!”
“Darling, everything’s for sex.”
“But… it’s very… breezy. I may not have nipples but I’ve got…”
Be that woman Quill! The woman that wears this doesn’t give a fuck about modesty. She wears her modesty in her attitude. If a breeze exposes her, she will wield such disdain for any who would dare to glance at her they would melt! You are untouchable. You are…“
"Evil Incarnate!” Quill finished for her and Mae smiled back.
“Yes, that’s it. You are no longer Quill-Weave, you are Evil Incarnate. And Evil Incarnate doesn’t wear frilly panties.”
Quill took another look in the mirror, her eyes sinking to a sultry glare. The face that stared back at her was not that of the author whose livelihood came from telling of the exploits of others. This was the face of a person that Did Things. She bared her fangs and they shone in flickering underground light. When she looked back at Mae, the little Khajiit backed off reflexively.
“O… okay Quill. That’s enough.”
Quill stepped towards the tailor silently, menacingly until their breasts touched and her gleaming teeth reflected in the Khajiit’s wide, frightened eyes. An involuntary shiver ran through Mae that even Quill could see.
“I like the red skull,” she whispered.
“Please, Quill. You’re scaring me.”
Quill turned around and took off the leggings.
“Sorry Mae,” she laughed. “I had to try it out properly.”
“Heh. Yeah. You’re very good at roleplaying. This is for roleplaying, right?”
“Sure. Roleplaying. That’s what it’s for. Now, please help me get my tail out of this. Will I need someone to help me with it every time?”
“Oh no. Here, let me show you. If you just stick your tail in first like this, the rest is easy. Yes, like that. You’ve got it now.”
“So, what about the skull?”
“Oh, I felt it needed a pop of color. Ruby red. I’ll have you know I looked all over the city for these and no one had anything even close to matching. I ended up buying them from some strange guy outside the city. Weird guy. Would you believe, he wore a lit candle on his shoulder! But he had the perfect stones. I embedded them into the gloves, belt and these optional gauntlets too. And the skull just fit so perfectly, I didn’t have to touch a thing! Crazy cheap too.”
Quill spun back to face her again, her eyes flashing.
The Khajiit’s eyes grew wide again. “I… I meant to tell you I was going to refund some. Here, you can have this back. I’m sorry Quill, but, well, you know how it is, right? Business is business!”
“Don’t fuck with me Mae. You’re the best at this work. You deserve your pay. But don’t fuck me over or you’ll regret it,” Quill said with a menace to her voice that seemed to come of its own accord. Still, the thrill of that cowering look in the little tailor’s eyes was intoxicating.
All the long ride back home, she kept the package on her lap protectively while it kept her warm over the miles, seeming to generate its own heat that went straight to her core. The look in the tailor’s eyes kept coming back to her. For the first time in her life, Quill had seen real fear – fear of her – in someone else’s eyes. She felt at once both ashamed and thrilled by it – the thrill seeming to reach deep into her core and to fill a space she barely knew existed. Something both primal, physical and essential.
She couldn’t wait to get back home, lock the doors, shutter the windows and try it on again.
Katia gave Quill-Weave a hug as her and Rajirra left the Argonian’s home to get a room at the nearby inn. However, Quill-Weave held Katia for a moment and looked at her with an odd expression that Katia didn’t recognize.
“Katia…” Quill-Weave started, unusually hesitant.
“What is it Quill? What’s wrong?”
When she replied, her words were quiet, obviously meant to not be overheard by Rajirra who was waiting outside. “You’re… sure about this right? I mean, you and Rajirra?”
Katia looked at her puzzled, then understanding dawned in her eyes. “Oh, you mean about her sex. I know. I had no idea myself! It’s a little embarrassing to talk to you about it, knowing about you and your friend in Chorrol, but yeah! We’re quite… compatible in that department. Who knew I, of all people, would fall in love with a woman!?”
“Certainly not me,” Quill-Weave said, but Katia felt there was still something not being spoken.
“Quill, I’ll come over tomorrow afternoon and visit with you for a bit after we’ve got everything lined up at the chapel. But yes, I’m very sure. We love each other very much. We’ll be very happy together, I’m sure!”
“Well, alright. If you’re sure. Goodnight Katia,” Quill said and closed the door.
“What did she want?” Rajirra asked as Katia rejoined her and they headed next door.
“Oh, what any good friend would want. She wanted to make sure I was confident I was doing the right thing.”
“And… are you… confident?”
“Never more in my life,” Katia said and gave her partner an earnest kiss as proof.
The next day was a whirlwind of activity for both Katia and Rajirra. While, of course, they had few guests to worry about, both still wanted to do the wedding right so they spent the morning getting all the preparations into place. Finally, Katia left Rajirra to do some last-minute decorations in the Chapel while she went to talk to Quill-Weave.
The Argonian opened the door graciously enough, but something appeared to be wrong with her face.
“I’m sorry, Katia. I’ve just gotten something in my eyes,” she said, wiping tears away. “But come on in, it’s alright. But I did want to talk to you a little before tomorrow.”
“Sorry to hear that Quill. Have you tried flushing your eyes out with clean water?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. But about Rajirra. How much do you really know about her? I mean, you haven’t been gone all that long.”
“I know. It’s been kind of a love-at-second-sight sort of deal. Oh she hated me at first! If it wasn’t for that joke Sigrid pulled on me I doubt I’d have ever seen her again. Which might have been a good thing because I was non-too-kindly disposed towards her after she left me locked in with that giant Imp either! But the feelings we felt for each other afterwards, even after we confronted Sigrid, were real. Still are. And Cyrodiil isn’t a place you want to wait too long on such decisions either!”
“But… when I met you, you were so… well, to not put too fine a point on it, so heterosexual.”
“I know right? I think it was because sex with men was the one thing I was so good at that I never thought about any other way. Had I known myself better, that night with you would have been just as uncomfortable for me!”
“But, it wasn’t?”
“Oh Quill, no. After all you did for me, I’d never dream of taking advantage of you in that way. You’re the best!”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t?”
Katia stopped, trying to understand what her friend was saying.
Quill looked away, but explained, “…that you wouldn’t dream of me.”
Suddenly Katia understood. “Oh Quill… Quill, you should have let me know! All this time I… I had no idea Quill!”
She tried to give Quill-Weave a hug, but the Argonian pushed her away. “Quill, I don’t know what to say!”
“I’m sorry Katia. Please leave. I don’t want you to see me right now.”
“Quill, if you don’t want to come to the wedding, I understand. I’ll just tell Rajirra you were sick or something. Really, you don’t have to come.”
The Argonian turned to face her, her eyes even redder than their usual orange hue. “I’m sorry Katia. I… just can’t.”
“You should have told me, Quill. I’ll…” Katia stammered, trying to find words.
“No. It’s alright,” Quill said, escorting Katia to the door. “I want you to be happy Katia. You understand, I just can’t do it. Now go. Goodbye Katia Managan.”
“Goodbye Quill-Weave. I do thank you for everything, sincerely.”
Katia stepped out of Quill-Weave’s house for the last time and heard the latch close behind her. And then she heard a sound she’d never heard before, the subdued wailing of a heartbroken Argonian.
The wedding, though sparsely attended, was nonetheless going smoothly until the fateful line was spoken by the priest…
“Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?”
As if to punctuate the line, a pounding and a scream was heard behind them and above them, behind the stained glass rose window. It cried only one word, “Katia!”
Rajirra turned to Katia, who looked at the vague silhouette visible behind the window, then back to her lover. She shook her head.
“Ignore her Rajirra. It is you I love,” Katia said, then turned to the priest who wasn’t quite sure what to make of the awkward interruption.
“I do. Now and forever.” she said to him clearly and strongly for all to hear. The shadow at the window disappeared and was not seen again.
Quill-Weave took the letter to her friends at The Count’s Arms to see if they could make heads or tails of it. She had gleaned a little actual information from it at least. It was definitely written by Katia and posted from Kvatch. She was pretty sure it indicated she and a friend named Rajirra were arriving this evening. The only other bit she could understand was that she had failed to get her book replaced. To call it a disappointment, especially after all this time, was really not accurate. To be disappointed you first have to anticipate ‘appoint’ment. The fact that the Khajiit was still alive was actually a relief. Beyond that it was a disjointed mess of mangled words and names that made no sense at all. In fact, it seemed that Katia wrote far better when drunk than sober – assuming she was sober when she wrote the letter anyway.
Of course, her friends were of little help. They kept asking her embarrassing questions like, “Who wrote this?”. Well, if Katia were really going to arrive tonight she’d find out soon enough. So she went back home and began cleaning up her small house. She was none too sure if Katia was planning to stay at her place or not. With a third person it would be awfully cramped. Still, she wanted to be hospitable if she possibly could. She did take the time to hide the hard liquor however.
Finally just before sunset a knock came at the door. Although her clothes were different, there was no mistaking the yellow cat with the big eyes that stood at her doorstep. Behind her stood another Khajiit who, other than the long hair behind her head, looked like she could be Katia’s twin. However, Quill-Weave was aware of her own racial prejudices, having borne the brunt of some of them herself.
“Katia! Welcome back! Come in, come in! And this must be Rajirra!”
Katia’s expression went from worry to happiness at her words. “Oh! So you did get my letter! Yes, this is my betrothed, Rajirra!”
“Come on in, let’s sit in the parlor. So you just came from Kvatch then?” Quill said, greeting the newcomer warmly.
“This one has, and appreciates your hospitality Quill-Weave. Katia has told me much of your helpfulness to her when first she arrived in Cyrodiil,” Rajirra said, her eyes darting around the room and her speech patterns recalling the standard Khajiit aversion to using first person pronouns directly.
Quill-Weave directed them towards the couch in her living room while she turned back to close the door, when she realized what Katia had said. “Betrothed.” Something in her heart sank and her expression changed drastically. Her mind raced, trying to make all the connections needed to comprehend her words. Katia was marrying another Khajiit? A female Khajiit? But… what about her Gaydar? Was it on the blink? All these thoughts and more went through her head in a second, before she’d turned back to her guests and she tried to resume her former appearance. She felt she did a good job, save for a nervous tick of a nictitating membrane.
“I’m sorry I didn’t write before Quill. And sorrier still about your book. You’re okay with it then I hope? I wrote you all about it.”
Quill-Weave sat down in the big overstuffed armchair and leaned back. “I am, though let’s just say I’d rather hear about it from you directly. Tell me all about it Katia.”
And the yellow Khajiit proceeded to do just that. As her story went on, Quill restrained herself from commenting overmuch, and showed the proper responses to Katia’s recitation of her joyous recognition of her magical talents as well as her terrible defeat at the hands of Sigrid. But what Quill was really doing was studying her body language. The way she looked to Rajirra, the way they touched and the way Rajirra returned her affection. It was getting harder to keep her smile in place.
“Quite an adventure! But really, don’t worry about the book. To be honest, I’ve already written to the bookseller there. I’m afraid I didn’t think I’d see you again. But I’m very happy to have been wrong about that.”
Katia’s tail twitched in embarrassment, “After last time I was here, I find that hard to believe. Don’t worry, I’ve told Rajirra about… my issues.”
“Yes,” Rajirra assured Katia, patting her hand. “In our more intimate moments, she has impressed this one with her talents with fruit as well. But these talents will no longer be performed publicly.”
Quill had to laugh at that. “That is good! But then, why have you come all the way back here Katia? Surely you could find a priest of Mara in Kvatch?”
“Why, Quill-Weave! Didn’t you read my letter? I came for your blessing. You know I don’t communicate with my parents and you are the closest thing I have to a mother who can give me that. You cared for me when I badly needed caring for. I couldn’t get married without you!”
“Your mother eh? You know I’m not that much older than you…” Quill trailed off, suddenly realizing that perhaps, in fact, she was.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply…” Katia began but Rajirra cut her off.
“No offense was intended, this one is certain oh hospitable one. We Khajiit have little experience with Argonian ages and appearance. This one is certain that you have many fewer years than we might assume.”
“Did you just tell me you think I’m not as old as I look?” Quill-Weave asked, no longer sure how much she appreciated this Katia clone.
Rajirra’s face turned to fear and she looked to Katia to help intercede, “This one did not intend to offend!”
Katia tried to come to her rescue, “Well, you dress sort of… older… I mean… Oh I’m sorry Quill! I don’t think of your age, I just know how much you helped me! Oh Raj, we’re screwing this up.”
Quill stood up and sighed. “No. No need Katia. I’m just in an odd mood. I’m prone to hear insults where they’re not intended. Rajirra, relax. It’s okay. I suppose I do dress a bit conservative. But I assure you both, I’m not that old. Now let me get you something to drink. You must be thirsty from your long trip. What would you like?”
Rajirra fairly sank back behind Katia, who responded “Oh, anything really. Water? Fruit juice?”
“Milk?” Quill-Weave suggested.
Katia’s eyes darkened, “Are you being racist Quill?”
“Oh no, not at all! Just offering what I have available, that’s all.”
Katia looked to Rajirra who nodded slightly.
“Well then… um… yes. Some milk would actually be quite nice!” Katia admitted.
Quill went to the kitchen, and pulled down two saucers, but then poured two glasses instead. Of course she would never actually serve them milk in platters, but it would have been appropriate since they obviously must think they were little kittens, to think she could be Katia’s mother! But no, she would remain civil. However, if they did stay overnight, she was pretty sure Rajirra would find something nasty in her long, luxurious yellow hair in the morning.
Another Prequel fanfic starts. The idea came to me in a flash last night while watching a FurNut stream. Specifically the conversation concerned this FurNut pic below. that depicts the domestic life of Katia and Rajirra. The image is a lightly NSFW but awesome anyway. And if it’s safe enough for the Booru, I figure it’s okay to post here. One of my favorites.
But it got me thinking – in such a universe where that could exist, where would that leave Quill-Weave?
This is part 1. Probably no more than 3 parts expected though. It’s not a complex story. Tragedy Ensues…
“You didn’t tell her about that whole Imp business did you?” she asked her partner as the wagon trundled over the rough path towards Anvil.
The ever-so-slightly darker Khajiit tightened her grip around Rajirra’s waist and the wagon’s frame as a particularly jolting bounce threatened to toss her out.
“Raj, of course I did. I told you I wrote her everything! But don’t worry, I explained what happened, and how we made up. She’ll understand.”
Rajirra shook her head. “This one thinks you have made a mistake. Your Argonian surrogate mother will not approve.”
Katia kissed her lover’s cheek. “You don’t know her. She helped me when I had nothing.”
Rajirra smiled wanly and looked away. “She will not approve.”
“Oh, you’re such a downer Raj. By the way, did you ever read that book I gave you?”
“This one does not enjoy these fictional tales. Khajiit should study practical matters.”
Katia lay down on the bench seat, using Rajirra’s lap as a pillow and watched the clouds go by, but keeping a firm grip on the rough coach’s framework all the same. Rajirra looked down at her affectionately.
“I’m not a practical matter,” Katia said quietly.
Rajirra considered this for a while, lazily stroking Katia’s ear before responding, “No, you decidedly are not. This one did not expect to feel affection for such as you.”
Katia tugged Rajirra’s tail. “Hey, I didn’t even know I liked girls!”
“It was the bug musk. You know this is the only explanation.”
“I suppose so. At first anyway. That was cruel of Sigrid. But it did bring us together, after all. In the end she did us a kindness!”
Rajirra’s face darkened and her stroking stopped.
“Raj? What is it?”
Rajirra swallowed hard, her eyes beginning to glisten. “Kat, you don’t think that might still…”
Katia sat up and hugged her friend close, “What?”
“Oh Kat, this one has been so happy in these days with you. What if it is just the bug musk? How would this one know? How could you know?!”
“Raj, I love you and we haven’t been near Sigrid for weeks. This isn’t magic anymore.”
Rajirra kissed her long and hard unexpectedly, then pulled back. “It is magic, Beautiful Kat. It must be. But maybe it can last a lifetime?”
“A lifetime sounds just about right to me,” Katia said. Then she opened the bag at Rajirra’s feet and pulled a book from it.
“Now, if you won’t read it, I’m going to have to read it for you.”
“That would be pleasant,” Rajirra said as Katia resumed her place on Rajirra’s lap.
“What, my voice no longer rapes your ears with a thorny cock?”
“Only when you try to speak Ta’agra. This you should not do.”
“You could always tutor me you know!” Katia suggested as she flipped the book open to the first page.
Rajirra stroked the fur from Katia’s snout to her eyes, saying, “Beautiful Kat, some things in this world are simply too broken to fix. Your Tamrielic will suffice.”
“That bad eh?” Katia sighed. “Well, then you can listen to my Tamrielic. Now stop that so I can read. Okay… ‘Red Crater’ by Quill-Weave. It was a dark and stormy night…”
Rajirra sighed and looked up the path in front of the wagon as her lover’s voice rolled on, almost like lyrics to a song counterpointed by the rhythmic squeak and rattle of the wheels. She had never been to Anvil before, and she was not looking forward to this trip to see this mythical author that Katia was so enamored with. Yet Katia had insisted that they marry with her blessing, and if that meant meeting and befriending this odd Argonian, it was worth it. She did worry often if the last few weeks of bliss with Katia could be real. It certainly had started off as a prank by that ‘mage’ Sigrid. The woman had apparently planned it as a way to humiliate Katia. And it was certainly the bug musk that had led to that first night of carnal bliss between the two.
Yet that couldn’t explain the rest of it, could it? Surely the effects of such a potion were limited in their longevity? Once the two Khajiits had awoken the next day and realized what had happened, they confronted the witch point blank. She certainly didn’t deny it, and had a pretty jolly laugh at their expense. But that didn’t explain why they left hand-in-hand afterwards. Nor why she still felt something pull at her heart whenever she looked into the eyes of the crazy Khajiit loner that she’d finally found. She prayed that whatever they had together now, that it was real. The pain would be too much if it turned out to be less than true. Even Sigrid couldn’t be that cruel.
bdfanfic 