A/N: Finally! A laptop-less holiday, a wearying heatwave and the disastrous loss of the first draft of this could not stop me from writing this chapter! Sorry for the delay. I hope this chapter makes up for it. Now, this is a chapter that appeals more to girls in my eyes. You'll see why when you read on.

BloodandDiamonds: Greece was great. A bit on and off with the weather but great. I've got no tan to prove it though because I stayed under a parasol all day. Ah, well. Anyway, keep reading this story. The story of the scars and the scroll will be revealed in due time.

maskedpainter: Well, you'll just have to wait and see.

NeverGoodbyeRoxas: Thanks for thinking that. You never like Farwil at first with the 'huzzahs' and being a general nuisance in the quest but he's kinda grown on me.

Broken Daggers

Chapter 12: The Banquet

Andel

The treasury was ablaze with torches and magelights; stratigically placed where he felt the different light colours would highlight the treasures there. The torchlight set off Lenore's hair nicely but the magelights drained gave it an odd, unlovely colour. While they descended, Andel had viewed Lenore as critically as Ulene. Indeed, she looked ill with her wan cheeks, shadowed eyes and pinched waist.

Her figure reminded him of a set of dolls Farwil had once played with that one could take apart and reassemble with parts from the others. Thick arms, a frail body, hardened eyes and brightly coloured hair. Dark skin, bright hair. Hard muscle, fragile body. A pretty face, a strong demeanor. The more he examined her, the more contrasts he found in her. He felt that he could have gazed at her for hours and found more.

Andel deliberately took his time getting to the place he wanted them to be like he always did in the hopes that they would take in more of the wonderful treasures he had. He was being showy, he knew it, but he couldn't help it. Among his close friends, he was known as 'Magpie-eye' for his love of great riches and his desire to collect as many as he could. However, Lenore made no comment and Farwil had seen it all before.

They reached a low table where a staff and a sword lay side by side. Once Farwil and Lenore had stopped, he cleared his throat and said, "I am in possession of two fine heirlooms of the Indarys family, passed down through generations. You may pick from either the Staff of Indarys or the Thornblade."

The answer was immediate, "I cannot use staffs well so the Thornblade is the best choice."

"The Thornblade, it is!" With a glowing smile, Andel handed it over, feeling a small twinge of regret at giving up one of his treasures but happy that it pleased her nonetheless. She took it delicately, as though it were made of glass, and drew it. Lenore did not flinch when it glowed upon being released when Farwil gave a small jump. Then, it vanished into a silver blur. Andel's eyes widened as it moved so fast that it seemed to leave a trail like a firework. It was clear to see why she was so adept at closing Oblivion gates; she wielded the sword like it was part of her arm,

"This is a good blade." She stated, unnecessarily, as though she could not see the two of them staring. Sheathing it, she affixed it around her waist,

"Excellent! I'm glad you like it." Andel smiled, "Oh, and, before you go off to Ulene, I want to show you something."

"Father!" groaned Farwil, "You're not going to bore her with that stupid ring again, are you?"

A twinge of annoyance went through Andel. How could Farwil not appreciate its beauty? True, he had seen it presented about twenty times and might be a bit tired of it but Andel couldn't get enough of seeing it. Lenore graciously followed him to the very back of the treasury, behind a line of full Reman suits of armour. She slipped between the gap with plenty of room to spare while Farwil sent the suits wobbling dangerously.

Behind the line was a rather cramped space indeed, with nothing but a velvet covered case. That was just fine, though. It meant that his audience had a better view of it. As always, Andel felt a surge of pride and nervousness as though he was being presented to the Emperor, "Here, in this case," He lowered his voice slightly for dramatic emphasis, "is what some call the Jewel of the River. Since it was found near the beginning of the White Rose River. Made from gold and silver, amber and obsidian, decorated with Ayleid runes and with very little history to go on. No one has claimed ownership, no one can recognise it. It's quite the mystery."

He glanced at them to see their reaction. Lenore looked only mildly interested and Farwil rolled his eyes. With a flourish, he whipped off the velvet covering. The reaction was immediate.

CLANG! CRASH! BANG!

Three suits of armour fell with an incredible cacophany of noise. After whipping round, Andel realised that Lenore looked as though she had just come across a horribly mutilated body. Her hands were thrown over her mouth, her eyes wider than ever and tears were starting to glisten. Farwil was instantly trying to find out what was wrong,

"What's the matter?" He asked, confused and thrown by her sudden outburst of emotion. She said nothing but slowly, like a sleepwalker, lowered her hands and began to step slowly towards the case. She made it in two steps and delicately splayed her hands upon the glass, looking down at the ring. After a long pause, she managed to choke up the words,

"When did you find this?"

"About...four years ago." Andel said, after a bit of thought, "Farwil found it, actually. On a trip back from Skingrad. Just a week before he met you, in fact." He stopped there, because tears were beginning to spill over her eyes. Both men reached for their handkerchieves. Farwil got there first and pressed it into her hand. This, in turn, was pressed to her face, making only her sparkling eyes visible. All hardness had gone from them now and they were completely unguarded, "Do...do you know it?"

"This ring once belonged to me." She managed out, her voice slightly muffled. Andel started at this; he had only managed to trace it back to Red Diamond Jewellery in the Imperial City. It had been specifically comissioned by an Imperial artist twenty years ago who had done an detailed sketch to show exactly how he wanted it. Once made, he had given it to his newly-wed wife as a wedding present. He could not track down their names or a clear description of them.

"When?" Andel asked as compassionately as he could,

"Twenty years ago. It was a present from my husband." It was Farwil's turn to start at the mention of a husband, "He gave it to me on our honeymoon."

Andel realised what had happened straight away, "Did he...pass away?" She gave a tiny nod that was almost invisible in the flickering light, "Oh, I'm so sorry." Andel truly meant it. He knew the pain of bereavement all too well. More words were choked out, grief now seizing her,

"He was killed and-and the ring was s-stolen just afterwards by his-his killer."

"Oh, that's dreadful!" Andel gasped. How anyone could kill a man and rob his widow was simply unthinkable. At this point, she was crying so much that she had to cover her eyes with the handkerchief, concealing her face entirely. Farwil, uncomfortable at her distress, reached over and took up the ring.

It glimmered in the torchlight and Andel again marvelled at its beauty. The ring itself was different on each side. Woven with gold on one side and silver on the other. In the gold side was set a fiery amber and on the silver, a murky obsidian. Both were in an identical triangular shape so, since they were set so close together, they looked like a split diamond. The Ayleid runes were carved on the inside while unfathomable letters were carved on either side of the jewels. On the gold side was 'Vini' and on the silver was 'Lu'. The artist had specified this feature, apparently, but had not explained its meaning.

He snapped out of his admiration when Farwil spoke, with the great determination he had when he had asked his father to form the Knights of the Thorn officially, "Father, Lenore is the rightful owner. You won't auction it and, if you don't let her have it, I'm throwing it back in the river. We don't need it and it's better suited worn by someone, not collecting dust down here. What do you think?"

As much as he hated to hear such threats, he had to admit his son had a point. The ring was priceless and no bidder could truly reach the right price. Andel did not want to lose it either. Lenore's eyes peeped over the handkerchief, now looking even bigger and more childlike, glittering with tears. That made up his mind in an instant. He could not say no, "Yes. Lenore, you should have this."

Her muffled sobs stopped at once and the handkerchief slipped from her face, showing surprise on her face, "Do...do you mean it?"

"Of course." Andel smiled his warm smile at her. He watched (not without a small twinge of guilt at his decision) as Farwil took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit and looked even better worn. Still astonished, she lifted her hand to examine it, letting it cast light onto the walls. Gradually, her mouth stretched into a big smile,

"Oh, thank you! You have no idea how much of a comfort this is to me."

Ulene

Ulene finished getting ready for the banquet and called Lenore up for her preparations. She had good things in mind as to what to do with her and was already pulling out dresses for her to try on when she had sent the message. It was a good thing that Ulene had thin arms and wore puffed or robed sleeves to make them look bigger. They would very useful for Lenore to cover up all that unsightly muscle.

That was the strange thing about Lenore. She was clearly a thoroughbred Dunmer with no Nord or Orc blood in her. Therefore, to gain that muscle, she had to do it the hard way by endless work. Why on earth would any beautiful, delicate woman like her want to ruin their body like that? And, then, there was those scars and the tattoos. Was she really that self-destructive?

When Lenore entered the room, she had a lovely smile on her face as though something wonderful had happened to her. Ulene never asked her why but got straight down to it. She filled the sink with hot water and pulled out conditioning potions. She hadn't had a chance to wash Lenore's hair and it had been saved from most of the grime from Oblivion.

Lenore's bright hair splayed out in the water like flaming oil, spreading and unfurling from its heavy waves. Ulene immediately got to work, getting into the full swing of getting a lady ready for a big event. She was once Countess Indary's handmaiden and had done this many times in her youth. Her fingers still remembered how to work the potion into every lock but, of course, Lenore was the exact opposite of the Countess.

Llatharsa Indarys had been chatty and happy, responding to every comment. Lenore, on the other hand, was the exact opposite; melancholy and silent. She had figured that out in the awkward silences when she had been healing her. Just as her hair was the exact opposite. While Llatharsa's hair was straight and manageable, Lenore's was thick, wild and wavy. Such an astonishing colour too. There was only one Dunmer house who was famous for being the only ones with that colour,

"Lenore?"

She glanced up at her,

"Are you related at all to house Harla."

"House Harla?" She raised an eyebrow, "I have not heard of it. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing." Ulene shrugged, "It's just that house Harla is famous for people with that hair colour."

Once she had finished, she used hot air from the pipes to dry it, picked up the comb and then came the real problem. Within minutes, the comb was stuck fast, even though the conditioning potion was meant to make it easier to comb through. Though she made no sound when her wounds were being healed, Lenore screamed when Ulene tried to pull it out. And those tangles were completely impossible. It took about ten seconds to solid tugging to get one out and each one seemed worse,

"Stop it!" snapped Lenore, after the third knot was thwarted and two teeth were lost,

"You stop your fussing!" Ulene snapped back, positioning the comb for another assault, "How often do you comb this? It's like a haystack."

"I don't." She said, without any guilt, "I often don't need to-OUCH!"

"Well, it's your own fault, then. Now, hold still."

After more conditioning potion, more screaming and some creative swearwords from both of them, the hair was free of knots. Ulene felt viciously proud; she had triumphed over the hair. Then, armed with styling tools, she began to force it into a courtly style. Still, it would not cooperate. Wisps fell out of even the most secure knot, more knots were discovered and Ulene had to fight down the urge to seize a pair of shears.

In the end, though, she managed it. Both keeping the hair up and resisting the desire to chop it all off, There! She thought, savagely, Not so smart now, are you? Then, she realised that she was feeling hate for inanimate hair. The comb was ruined; half the teeth missing and the rest choked with orange knots. Throwing it in the waste-paper basket, she pulled out her nail equipment and set to work trying to make her broken nails look presentable.

It was astonishing how little care Lenore seemed to give them. Her hands and her feet were callused and neglected. Though Ulene worked hard on them, they were still hardened and looked nasty. She of course mentioned that she should take care of them better but Lenore didn't seem to be listening. It was further proof that she was so neglectful of her own body and Ulene could not get her head around it.

Next, was the outfits. Ulene had not met a girl who didn't warm up at the prospect of trying on new clothes...until now. At the sight of the prospective clothes, Lenore rolled her eyes, "What's the matter?" asked Ulene, a little affronted. Her dresses weren't that bad, were they?

"You simply remind me of someone I once knew. She felt fashion was a main priority and would impose that on me. It was really rather irritating."

However, she consented to try them on, though she did not pay any attention. When asked what she thought, she would give a non-committal sort of answer and only look briefly in the mirror at herself. Ulene was beginning to get frustrated again and pressured her to make a decision. She just looked back and forth from dress to dress, not really seeing them. In the end, based dominantly on Ulene's advice rather than her opinion, she chose one.

Lastly, she pulled out her make-up. This time, Lenore took one look at it and turned away, "That will not be necessary."

"Just to cover up that scar."

"Do you cover up facial disfigurement with lip rouge?"

"Just a little hint."

The argument continued on like that for about a minute before Ulene was finally beaten and all she wore was a concealer for the scar. Ulene still felt that she would look a lot better with a little hint of rouge on her cheeks to make her look less ill. Still, there was a lot of time to go before the banquet started. Time to convince her.

However, she stopped listening again and pulled a piece of parchment towards her. Finding a piece of charcoal, she took a position in a chair in front of the mirror, leaned the parchment on a book and, soon, her hands were whizzing over the page. Now and again, she looked up at the mirror, then to her parchment and then to the mirror again. After a few attempts of conversation, she realised that Lenore would not answer and it was better trying to get a word out of the wall. So, she glanced over her shoulder.

She was drawing something. A woman with a stately hairstyle and a long robe-sleeved dress. The same woman had dark skin and light hair. Ulene released that she was drawing herself in the mirror. The portrait was so lifelike, it was incredible, "You're very good at this." She said, though she knew it did not cover her talent,

"I thank you." Only Lenore's lips moved. Her eyes never flicked up, "I do not normally draw self-portraits but you have worked so hard that I do not think it should be forgotten."

"Oh." was all Ulene could say. She was adding details now, the pattern on the dress and more lines on the hair. Lenore had a very good eye for detail and was clearly very practised in this. It was a while before she could pluck up the courage to ask, "Do you draw often?"

No answer. She was too caught up in her own work to look up. She was finished in an amazingly short time and, just as Lenore was standing up, there was a knock at the door. Count Indarys and Farwil were there, both dressed in their finest. Lenore put down her work on Ulene's table but Ulene spotted her slip a few sheets of parchment into the book she was leaning on as well as the piece of charcoal and hide all of this in her pocket.

Farwil

His mouth fell open as Lenore came out of the room. He had never seen her look so feminine and (there was no better word for it) beautiful. Dressed in a robe-like white dress with red and black decorations and her hair up, she looked just like an empress in Farwil's eyes. He recognised the dress as Ulene's best gown only used about once every year. Lenore looked better in it, in his opinion, though.

Before he could open his mouth to say anything about how she looked, his father had beaten him to it, "You look wonderful, Lenore! I can see Ulene hasn't lost her touch."

"Thank you, Count." She inclined her head slightly and smiled modestly like a true lady. He had been plucking up the courage all afternoon and now, swallowing his fear, he offered his arm to her. She blinked in surprise, looking from his face to the arm. For a horrible moment, it looked as though she might reject him. Then, she smiled and coiled her arm around his.

With that, the four of them descended to the dining hall, where what looked like people from all over Cyrodiil had come. Ulene hurried off to join Bremman and, as soon as the three of them entered, everyone hurried to their seats. His father's place was in the centre of the high table, Lenore on his right, Farwil on left. All three stayed standing as his father spoke,

"Today, we have gathered here to celebrate the safe deliverance of my son, Farwil, and his intrepid Knights of the Thorn from the nightmare realm of Oblivion that torments us all today. We give thanks to the Nine and their servant, Lenore, the Hero of Kvatch, for saving our city and its heir. To the Nine." The words reverberated around the hall, "To Lenore." Again, the words echoed, "Now, let all drink deep and commemerate this wonderful event."

They sat down to a round of applause and Lenore turned to the Count, "Good speech. Nice and short."

"Oh, I don't like to bore everyone."

It's when he gets down into the treasury that he bores everyone, thought Farwil. Leaning over to look at her, he saw the ring still glimmering on her finger. He was still utterly astonished that something he'd found simply by accident could be so important. He had swiped it from the river as a last-minute decision as a present for his father and was astonished to find his father so fascinated by it. Just as he thought this, his father said,

"So, Lenore, perhaps you can tell us a little more about that ring if you feel you're up to it?"

"How much information have you garnered so far?" Lenore asked, with no trace of tears this time,

"Well, I've put adverts in the Black Horse Courier. I'm surprised you didn't respond to them."

"Oh, I do not receive the Black Horse Courier. I think it dreadfully inaccurate and the stories are more embelished then the Emperor's palace at Midyear."

Andel blinked in surprise. Even Farwil was astonished by this wit that had materialised in her. Certainly, she was good with words and always sounded educated but she never used sharp wit like that. Andel recovered himself and said, "Well then, I suppose that's why. But, where on earth do you get your news if you do not get it."

"Well," she dropped her voice so Ulene next to her could not hear (who was trying to pile as much food as she could on Lenore's plate), "at the risk of sounding arrogant, I do not need to read the news the next day as I am often there when it happens." She took a sip of her wine, signalling that subject of conversation was over, "So, you put adverts in the paper and did that come to anything?"

"Why, yes, actually." Andel nodded, "I got most of my information from Red Diamond Jewelry in the Imperial City. You know of that place? Yes, of course, you do. The owner told me that it had been comissioned by an Imperial artist who did a very exact sketch of what he wanted it to be. He even had it with him and showed me. It detailed everything about it and he was very firm that everything he specified was there. It was to give to his bride on their honeymoon, which I suppose would be you. Now that I think of it, he did mention that the bride was a Dunmer."

"The Ayleid runes you spoke of on the inside." She asked, halfway through her piled plate and sneakily trying to push some off, "Have you attempted to translate them?"

"Yes." Andel nodded, rather excitedly. Farwil resisted the urge to roll his eyes; his father had paid an indecent amount for a professional translator to come in from the Imperial City which was taken out of the fund for his Knights of the Thorn Lodge and delayed the construction, "I have found out that it means 'One can never be torn apart'."

She gave another gasp and Farwil was beginning to worry that she was about to burst into tears again. However, she managed to recover herself and, in response to the stares, explained, "That was exactly what he said to me when he gave it to me when I asked him why he wasn't wearing a ring."

"This...husband of yours," Farwil said, after a few more moments of silence, "I know he was an Imperial but...well...who was he?"

He had tried to piece it together in a way that wouldn't upset her but, as he said, he realised how stupid it sounded. He felt his face flush again as she turned her face slowly to him and held him with her stare. Andel gave him a sharp nudge and whispered, "Don't ask her about that!"

"It's alright, Count Indarys." Lenore waved a hand, graciously, while carefully moving a garlic-marinaded piece of chicken Ulene had forced on her plate back into the platter, "I believe it is time I said it aloud to someone." She settled her cutlery on her plate and put her hands flat on the table, "My husband and I were part of a select guild which you probably would not have heard of and one I am forbidden to tell of. A very secretive sort of company, if you get my meaning.

"He was the one who first initiated me. I ran into him practically straight after I first ran away from home. I was a teenager, headstrong and thinking I knew best. Much like Farwil, here." She added, making him flush, "I ran off, thinking I'd be alright. It was lucky I ran into him when I did or I might have died of my own heady stupidity. He offered me a roof over my head, promise of some money and a close knit family of group members. I couldn't really say no.

"I don't really remember many details of the work I did but I do remember the time between jobs. We were very close and I loved them with all my heart. I barely saw my husband at that time. Being the head of my band of guild members, he had duties to attend to that took him away from our guildhall. I, as you say, went off him a bit for a while and grew closer to another man. A vampire in fact. Yes, I know it seems shocking to you but he was the rarest of things: a civilised vampire. He was an absolute gentleman to me and, if he bit me, he covered it up very well.

"But, the guild was on hard times. A traitor was knawing away at the very structure of it from the inside, killing important members every few months and always leaving with no clue to lead us to him. My husband first confided in me a year after my initiation and I kept the secret within me from the others. I wonder sometimes if I was right to do so.

"This traitor soon became bold and, in one fell swoop, killed all of my brothers and sisters within their guild hall. Only I and my husband remained. In my grief, I fell ill and, in his anger, my husband cut off all ties from the higher members to look after me. The lack of any other company hastened our bonding and, within a few weeks, we were married.

"We spent two weeks honeymoon in the Tiber Septim hotel and, on the first day, he gave me this ring." She held it up again. Farwil barely noticed the last two courses coming, he was so enraptured by her story. He barely even registered what he was putting in his mouth; he just chewed and swallowed routinely, not really tasting it, "After our stay in the Imperial City, we returned to his home where we spent another month with nothing but each other's company. We almost forgot that we were part of that guild and made no contact with them, neglecting both our duties and putting ourselves at risk. It took the leader of our guild himself to snap us out of it."

"Those must have been very happy times." The Count said, in a low voice. Ulene, Naspia and Bremman had now joined in listening to this tale but Lenore was oblivious to her growing audience,

"Yes. But all good things had to come to an end. Still, we managed to keep our relationship a secret. We seperated to go about our duties but the traitor still roamed free. Soon, he began manipulating me in the shadows to jeopardise the ruling people of our guild, even killing some of them. To make matters worse, I managed to do it in a way that implicated my husband!"

The first bit of emotion trinkled into her voice and her hands clenched into fists, "My husband was forced to go on the run but managed to get the message to me that I was being manipulated. I cannot tell you how shocked and frightened I was when I heard. I wanted to go to the remaining members and tell them that he was innocent straight out. Even give them a piece of my mind if I had to. He would hear none of it, though. He showed me a lead to follow, gave me the location of his hiding place and we seperated.

"I managed to find evidence to the traitor's identity, enough to realise he was one of the ruling people of our guild. I hurried to his hiding place but...well, the ruling people got there first."

Ulene gasped in horror, throwing her hands over her mouth in shock, much like Lenore had when she saw the ring. Indeed, a picture in Farwil's mind appeared of a group of people wearing the same black robes Lenore always wore standing around a body and Lenore standing still before them, staring with wide, tear-filled eyes,

"That was my reaction." Lenore nodded, "Still, I managed to hold it in when I was among them, at least. My husband was killed, branded a traitor, and I was welcomed among their ranks in his place. However, the leader of the ruling people had been killed and we had to seek guidance from a much higher person. On the journey, by means of trickery and subterfuge, I found out who the true traitor was but I did not act. I wanted him to unveil himself before the rest of them and show them that they were wrong.

"You know what they say. Pride comes before a fall. The traitor released that I knew, thought I would expose him and...went to drastic measures to ensure that I would not talk." Her hands clenched together briefly and a more ghastly image appeared before Farwil. One of Lenore lying broken and bleeding, just like when she had been overwhelmed by the daedra, and a dark figure standing over her with a dagger in hand, "In the process, he stole the ring and must have thrown it in the river. The pain of what physical harm had been inflicted on me was nothing compared to the loss of this treasure. I searched everywhere I could think of but could not find it."

She looked her most tense yet. Her hands were clenched into fists so tight that her knuckles were white, her head was bowed and her teeth were bared in a silent snarl. Then, she closed her eyes, composed herself and turned a neutral face upon them, "However painful it was to me, though, it made it all the worse for the traitor. If I was not resolved to strike him dead before then, I certainly was at that moment. It was the first time I have considered using both of my swords. When we reached the highest person in the guild, the traitor unveiled himself and I felled him with my two swords."

She cleared her throat and picked up her cutlery again, "And, there you have it. The story of my husband and how I avenged him. I have done far too much talking tonight and it would be unfair not to let any of you speak. Please, go on."

She did not speak at all throughout the rest of the banquet, which was passed mostly with small talk while everyone digested what they had heard. His father did not talk much, either, and Farwil could see sympathy in his eyes whenever he looked at Lenore. It took Farwil a few moments to realise that he had some idea how she felt. After all, his mother had died before her time as well.

The banquet ended and, while the guests filed out, his father invited Lenore for drinks in the drawing room. Her armour would not be fully fixed for another two hours so she consented. She did not speak during that time. Instead, she pulled out a book she had been concealing in her pocket. No, she was not reading it. She had just opened it to the first page, where a piece of parchment was positioned on it. Her hand whizzed over the page, which he noticed held a small piece of charcoal. Every now and again, she looked up at him and then back to her work.

She was soon finished and began another, setting the finished piece on the table beside her. On the pretence of lighting one of the candles, he glanced down at it. He almost dropped the candle. On the page was a young male Dunmer with long dark hair and a rather quizzical look on his face. It was him. Sure enough, as he glanced over her shoulder, he saw that she was halfway through a rendering of his father, who was laughing at a joke Bremman made and completely oblivious to the fact that he was having his portrait done.

She did not even seem to realise he was there, although he was right at her ear. He dared not say anything in case he startled her and made her ruin it. As quietly as he could (and he thanked the Nine that he was not wearing armoured boots), he crept back around her chair and sat back down in his, which was strategically opposite hers.

He watched her finish his father, then Ulene, then Bremman, then Naspia. She then turned to the room itself and took much longer on what he supposed was adding all the details of the lavish room. When she set that aside, she wondered out for a good long while and returned with another landscape. A surreptitious glance at the top of the growing pile told him that she had just sketched the deserted dining hall.

As she was working on another, Naspia looked up and saw her bent over her work, "Look at you, Lenore! Beavering away like that." Then, she caught a glimpse of the finished works, "Oh!" Without asking (and seemingly without being noticed since Lenore did not halt her charcoal), she picked up papers and began riffling through them, "These are brilliant, Lenore! How did you learn to do this?"

His father looked up at her cry and came over to see what was so brilliant. Soon, all the sketches were being circled around the room for all to admire. They were so very lifelike that it was astonishing, as though the moment had been frozen on the page. So lifelike that his father laughed, "You couldn't get rid of some of those wrinkles, could you?"

All too soon, Lenore's armour was fixed and she abruptly stood up to leave. She thanked his father and Ulene for their hospitality, said her farewells and hurried away to get changed as soon as she had collected all her drawings from varied places. All in a flash and all too quick for Farwil to realise that she was leaving. Without thinking it through, Farwil hurried out of the room too and waited by the door.

Lenore emerged as the Hero of Kvatch, her face and hair obscured by that now rather tatty-looking hood and her muscles on display through the straining chainmail. She stopped at the sight of him and, once again, he felt her eyes upon him, "Farwil-"

"Can I walk you to the gate?" He said, all in a rush, before he had time to piece together a better request. There was a painfully awkward silence in which Lenore stared at him. Then, it was releaved by her humourless smile,

"Alright. But, please, no further than the gate."

It was an agonizingly quiet walk there. Farwil wanted to say something to her but didn't know what. He was getting flustered again and he knew she could see it. One thing about the walk was that it was short. Too short. When she stopped at the gateway, she turned to him and said, "Farewell, Sir Knight." Just as she was about to disappear into the shadows, his voice worked on its own again,

"Wait!" She slowly turned, her head to one side. He swallowed, his face flushing. Half-formed thoughts went right from creation to his mouth without time to process them, "You'll be okay on your own, won't you...I mean...Oblivion gates are everywhere and...well, you..."

"I have dealt with a lot of these gates before this one." She reassured him, "It has become, as you may put it, a bit of a hobby of mine. I see a Gate and I dive headfirst into it, almost by second nature."

"Well, don't dive into too many, alright?" He said, knowing full-well that he was in no place to give her warnings. Again, words came out against his will, "Promise you won't get into trouble again, okay?"

The humourless smile extended and, before he knew it, she was in front of him. She laid her hands on his shoulders and he felt a light pressure on his left cheek like a butterfly had fluttered past his. Those cheeks flushed even more and he was rooted to the spot, half in shock. She leaned away and looked him right in the eyes. Under that close gaze, he felt as though two red stars were glaring at him in a purple sky with the slight tinge of an orange sunset in the form of her shadowed hair just peeping out from under her hood,

"I would love to say yes but I'm afraid that trouble is part of my life. It's what I love. You needn't worry about a lonely girl like me. I can handle these things myself. Just you keep yourself safe and be a good little boy." Just as she was walking out of the pool of light at the gate, she held up a hand in farewell and he heard her voice saying, "Goodbye, Sir Farwil."

Farwil's legs would not move. He just stood like a tree in one spot for a long moment, before he reached up a hand and lightly touched the place where he had been kissed.

A/N: OMG! A Farwil/Lenore scene! By the way, I think the hair-combing scene is one most of us can relate to. I certainly can. Ouch! I'm moving on from Farwil to do a bit of Arquen next chapter.