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.
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