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Meme Announcements!

ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.

I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.

The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3

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passerby!anon loves this story very much and is happy to see you continuing. :)

here we need the next chapter! I'm curious where the small igne can go! but I wanted a more decisive vilkas! XD

Even in the dim candle light Ariella still found it in herself to write. Her journal was filling at a much fast rate than she thought it would. She had drawn out every companion so as to not forget their face and written what she knew about them in the other pages.

“What are you writing?” Vilkas asked. He laid down beside her so close to her. She hid the book slightly and looked at him.

“A journal of sorts.”

“Of sorts?” He smiled and she shyly pushed the book in his direction. “Biographies of all the companions?”

“I know it’s a bit weird.”

“Well I suppose it saves people from being forgotten.” He flipped through some pages and came across the drawings. Ariella hid her face in embarrassment. Her likenesses weren’t very good. She had received some training yet the movements when drawing weren’t loose as they should be but controlled.

“These are good.” Vilkas said, she could hear the pages turning. She didn’t say anything in response.

She knew what was in those pages and quite a few focused on Vilkas. Embarrassment began reaching new levels as that thought took her.

“Well I might try to sleep now.”

“Oh, do you want me to put the candle out?” Ariella asked lifting her head quickly.

“It’s fine, just try to get some sleep too.” Vilkas made himself comfortable and closed his eyes.

Ariella continued writing in her little journal for a while. She flipped through her other pages and frowned. She had tried to give even amounts to all the companions yet it seemed Vilkas, Skjor and Kodlak had more drawings and entries than any other.

She figured it must be because the three were such important figures. Kodlak was Harbinger, Skjor was well on his way to becoming the next Harbinger and then there was her own personal interest in Vilkas.

She looked over to the man in question. Ariella knew she felt something strong for him, she was afraid to call it love though. He was sleeping now yet a deep frown was set on his face.

She wondered what he dreamed about, what haunted him from the day into his sleep. She knew he hid things from her yet she found she didn’t really mind. He didn’t owe it to her and she had already seen more of him than the other whelps.

She closed up her journal for the night and blew out the lantern. As she settled the chill settled in as well. She began wishing for extra pelts as she felt herself shaking slightly.

She glanced over her shoulder at Vilkas and was reminded of how warm she had been that morning. The man was like a furnace.

She warred with herself for a bit but finally made a decision. She inched over slightly towards him. If he woke she could just blame the confined space.

As she was just about pressed to him he moved closer to her himself. Ariella could only describe the movement as snuggling yet before she could dwell on the thought for too long she forced herself to get some sleep.

Ariella had imagined a much more grand entrance to the Cairn. Yet what they were met with was infinitely more creepy. It sent chills down Ariella’s spine, Vilkas could feel it in her.

He looked up at her. He had already descended the stairs and was waiting for her. “You coming?”

Her descent was slow, careful. “I don’t like this place.” She muttered standing close by his side.

“We’ll be fine.” Yet just a little way inside and Vilkas was beginning to rethink that.

“Someone’s been digging here.” Ariella said quietly, a fair bit of horror in her voice.

“Recently too. We should try not to make too much noise.” The Breton nodded and followed the Nord.

The passage leading to the next room had caved in at some point yet was still passable. Vilkas offered his hand to Ariella as they stepped down the broken steps.

The next room was lined with drauger. Two of the undead had already awoken and attacked as soon as they stepped out of the hallway. Ariella had been startled at them yet drew her sword and made rather quick work of on of them.

Vilkas was surprised in all honesty.

They walked quietly onwards before Ariella signalled for him to stop. She drew her bow silently, readied an arrow and let it fly into a drauger that was standing in an alcove. When the arrow hit the drauger let out a pained cry and crumbled to the ground.

Vilkas raised an eyebrow at the girl.

“The dead can’t stand on their own.” Vilkas smiled, perhaps they would make a companion out of her yet. That was a detail even Vilkas himself would have missed.

---
22 parts and they've just started the testing. Yay for progression.
I'd also like to thank anyone reading, for having patience with my sail pace stories....

Tullius inwardly groans at the softness of her lips. However he has to force himself away. “Sorry about that,” he mutters. Hands grab and push him towards his room. He can hear the chuckles of the guards as they pass. Her lips descend on his again as they pass the threshold of his room. Lifting her leg, Elsynia kicks the door shut. Breaking away for air, Elsynia stares at him, lust darkening her eyes. “Undress. Now.”

Unlocking the clasps of his armor, he chucks the cuirass somewhere to find that her armor and mask lay in a heap. Licking his lips, Tullius lets his eyes wander unashamed over her body. His eyes land on her wonderfully shaped breasts. Oh how by the Divines he wished to lick and suckle them. Hearing a growl, he looks up to see her walking towards him, her own eyes focused on his lack of undressed state. She quickly unhooks the rest of his armor until he is nude.

Falling to her knees, Elsynia smirks and licks the tip while holding the base of his cock. He sighs as she proceeds to slowly take him in. She’s teasing him. His right hand takes a handful of her hair and pushes her forward, she doesn’t resist. Moving her head, Elsynia takes on a rhythm causing Tullius to curse.

Stopping suddenly, Elsynia pushes him against the bed. Grunting, Tullius looks to find her crawling onto the bed towards him, a predatory smile is present on her face. Leaning down, she kisses him hungrily. His left hand slips between her legs, and his middle finger plays with her clit. She moans against his mouth, and presses closer against his finger. Breaking away from Tullius’s lips, Elsynia places kisses against his neck.

Moving his hands to her hips, he switches their positions. His mouth descends on her neck placing kisses and bites there. Arching into Tullius, she moans his name. Moving down, he places more kisses down her collarbone and chest. Stopping at her breasts, he fondles her right breast while licking and sucking on her left. He moans against her breast as she starts to pump his erection.

Pulling away her hand, his right middle finger plays with her clit as his mouth sucks on her other breast. She whimpers and groans at the pleasure, igniting a fire in her belly. Slipping the finger inside her cunt, he starts a rhythm. Moving backwards, he licks her clit causing her to cry in pleasure. Juices run down his finger as he puts in a second finger can continuing the rhythm he had.

Curling his fingers, he hits a spot that makes Elsynia cry out. Satisfied with her response, he puts in a third and last finger. Moving forward, he captures her lips in a heated kiss. Her hands tangle in his hair as the kiss grows rougher. Elsynia let out an annoyed moan as Tullius pulled out his fingers.

Smirking against her lips, he grabbed the base of his cock and teased her by rubbing his tip up and down her slit. Moving away from him, Elsynia growled out. “I swear by the fucking Nine if you don’t fuck me right now, I will murder you!” Tullius’ smirk grew wider and the teasing continued against her protest.

we are willing to wait when the story is so good! oh how cute the two in the tent! and now look forward to the mission, though I really like it when you delve into their thoughts! ariella and her diary, I like the idea! and I love how he comes up to her in her sleep!

She let out another growl before pushing him onto his back. Elsynia slides down his digit and Tullius can’t help himself from arching his back and letting out a moan. Leaning her back and beginning a rocking motion, all she can think of is how much it feels good to have his cock inside her. The friction between their two bodies starts another round of heat inside both of them.

Curses, moans and the slapping of skin against skin echo around the room. Not wanting for her to do all the work, Tullius holds her in place and thrusts his digit several rough times, lost in the pleasure of her and her moans. The feeling of her walls clenching against him is too much and he thrusts faster. Elsynia yanks his hands off her hips and jerks her hips, meeting him each thrust.

He quickly switches their positions for a final time. Hooking her legs around him, Tullius continues his pace. She’s chanting his name now, the pace driving her mad with need. He can feel her orgasm building along with his. Biting down on her shoulder, he thrusts a few more times before being undone by her orgasm. Her hands press his hips closer as he spills his seed inside her.

He stays in that position for a few moments before rolling off the side. Arms wrap around him, and his Elf places her head against his chest. “You didn’t stay for the Thalmor, did you?”

OP loves a good wine with her food and this flavour is very interesting! My addiction is sated for now but I'm needing my fills faster and faster before showing those withdrawal signs ;) you're doing great chef!

Pairing: F!DB Altmer/Madanach, Argis/Elisif, Cicero/Eola
Summary: Liriel tracks down Eola to find out if her suspicions are true and to break the news of her sister's death to her. Grief is hard, but the Reach natives have always believed death and life walk hand in hand, and in this case, shared grief can indeed lead to healing...
Kinks: A bit of angstiness, but a big helping of fluff towards the end.

A/N: Another emotional one, but a lot more fun to write. I think you'll like this one. :) Very Eola-centric, understandably, but it still made me smile.

Liriel ran over to Argis' tent, hoping he was actually awake. The camp was quiet, but people were already about, finding food, finding water, and the clear up underway. They'd be striking camp today, their dead taken care of, taking everything and heading back to the Reach, Windhelm left for the Legion to deal with.

“Argis!” Liriel called, knocking on the tent struts at the entrance. “Argis, wake up, I need to talk to you!” She swept the tent flap open, not expecting Argis to have a bedmate. It was with some surprise then that she saw Argis dozing under furs, arms securely wrapped around Cicero.

“Argis!” Liriel shouted, not at all sure she should approve of this. Kaie's ashes were barely cold, Argis was betrothed for Aedra's sake! Had Argis really spent the night having sex with Cicero?!

Argis sat up, blinking, took one look at Liriel and promptly blushed, sitting bolt upright.

“It's not what it looks like!” he said quickly. Next to him, Cicero peeped out, blinking, saw Liriel and likewise sat up – from the look of it, fully dressed in his jester motley, apart from the hat which was neatly folded by the bed.

“Hello Listener!” Cicero chirped, bright-eyed. “Cicero was cold and lonely and couldn't sleep so he asked dear Argis if he could sleep next to him! He's lovely and warm, Listener.”

“Cicero...” Liriel hissed, only refraining from flexing her own lightning bolts at him because Cicero would probably enjoy it. “Get out of there at once! Argis is getting married soon!”

Cicero pouted but got up, pulling his hat on and retrieving his dagger, before picking up the bowl of water next to the bed and carrying it outside along with a mirror, presumably to shave in daylight. Liriel could only roll her eyes and venture in as Argis shook himself down and reached for a shirt.

“I'm sorry, Liriel,” Argis said, face still scarlet. “It's just he was feeling lonely and didn't want to sleep in Kaie's tent, not with all her things still there, so I said he could sleep here as long as he didn't try anything. Apart from the cuddling, he was as good as gold. Warm too. Kind of glad to have the company, if I'm honest. He's not so bad really.”

“He really isn't – well, if you're on the list of people he's not allowed to stab, that is. Which you definitely are, don't worry,” Liriel reassured him. Argis didn't look entirely convinced of this but did motion for Liriel to join him.

“What's up?” Argis asked. “Come to say goodbye? Liriel?” He looked more closely, blinking sleep out of his eyes, noticing that something was clearly up. “Liriel, what happened?”

“Madanach needs an heir,” Liriel said quietly. “Now Kaie's gone, all he has is you and he can hardly leave his kingdom to a Nord, not so soon after taking it off them. He needs legitimate heirs.”

“He wants kids. With you, I hope,” said Argis, eyes narrowing. Devoted to his father he might be, but he was also loyal to Liriel and he knew the two of them were in love. He didn't like seeing Liriel heartbroken even if, perhaps especially if, his father was responsible.

“I'd be his first choice, but Argis, I can't!” Liriel sighed. “Altmer babies grow too slowly and live too long – I'd end up being regent for decades. And then the Reach would effectively have a king or queen that would live for centuries. An elven one and don't tell me the Thalmor wouldn't love that. But if I don't do it... he'll send me away and marry a Reachwoman.”

“Over my dead...” Argis began, furious, until Liriel placed a finger to his lips.

“But he doesn't need to, does he?” Liriel whispered. “Because Kaie wasn't his only legitimate heir. She had a younger sister, didn't she, Argis? Tell me about her. I know you know. She's called Eola and she must be about twenty five or so, two or three or four years younger than Kaie, because she was born while he was King the first time. Well, Argis? Is it her? Do I have Eola ap Madanach in my Sanctuary?”

Argis went still, silent for a few seconds then lowered his eyes, giving in.

“I don't know for sure, I never met her,” Argis said softly. “But I think you might. Your Eola – she looks just like Eithne. And when she killed that werewolf... I've not seen magical ability like that in a while, not even Kaie's reflexes are that good. She's got all Da's skills, and when he was attacked, she went straight for the one who did it, not even thinking about her own safety. Takes love and loyalty to do that. I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure, but you know her better and if you think it's her too, then I agree. How'd you find out, did Da tell you?”

Liriel nodded. “He never wanted to talk about her before, it was just too painful for him. But he let slip her name and I realised... so I asked and he finally told me about her, about her running away. It all matches, Argis, everything he said about her and everything she's said about her past in the Forsworn. Eola is Madanach's child – and his heir now. She's your sister.”

Argis stared at her before starting to grin. “You and Da can still get married. Liriel, that's great! Are you going to get her? When can I meet her properly?”

“I don't know,” said Liriel, her mood darkening. “I have to get her first. I have to tell her her sister's dead and her father's devastated. Then I have to persuade her to come back to the Reach and be its Crown-Princess. I don't think that'll be an easy task. She's used to being her own woman and she treasures her freedom dearly.”

“More than she treasures Da?” Argis asked, worried. Liriel could only shrug. Eola had said she didn't envy Kaie or Madanach – but she also said how much she missed her father, and her personal loyalty to the King in Rags was unquestioned. If he needed her – she might do it.

“I don't know,” said Liriel, shivering. “All I can do is ask. But she loves him and she's loyal to me. If I tell her that her refusing means I lose Madanach for good, I think she'll do it. But I won't know for sure until I get back there and talk to her.”

“Then you'd better get moving,” said Argis, reaching out to give her a hug. “Old gods keep you, Liriel.”

“And you,” Liriel told him, hugging him back. Time to get moving indeed. The last heir of the House of Madanach awaited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cicero had been as manically cheerful as ever when Liriel found him, shaved, dressed, already in possession of food and ready to go.

“Listener, Listener, Cicero has bread and chicken and sweetrolls and stew! Did you want some, Listener?”

Now that he mentioned it... Liriel helped herself to a quick breakfast before telling him to get his things, they were leaving on a very important mission.

“Ooh! OOOH! Is it a contract, Listener? Is it dangerous? Will there be stabbing??” He was dancing on the spot, all nervous energy and hope.

“Sadly not,” said Liriel, patting him on the shoulder. “But it is very important. I'll tell you more about it on the road, come on.”

She waited until they were well on the way to Dawnstar before breaking the news to him. She'd expected a meltdown, a tantrum, shrieking or shocked disbelief. She'd not expected him to just lift cruel eyes up to her and smile.

“Sweet Eola is King Madanach's daughter. Yes, Listener, Cicero knows. What? Do not look so shocked. There is precious little privacy on a Forsworn camp and you cast no Muffle spell. Cicero was listening at the door and overheard you talking with Argis.”

Liriel could have throttled him but the truth was he'd always been a nosy little thing and that was never going to change. She should probably have anticipated this.

“You need to stop eavesdropping on my private conversations, Cicero!” she scolded him. “And for reference that includes any where I don't know you're listening in!”

Cicero blushed a little but didn't stop grinning. Eyes too wide. Smile too fixed.

“Yes, Eola is probably Kaie's sister, I just need to hear it from her to confirm it. Cicero? Cicero, say something. You were Kaie's lover and I know you're fond of Eola. Aren't you angry? Upset? Surprised?”

Cicero giggled again, still grinning. “Surprised? Surprised?? Of course! And yet... not. She killed Arnbjorn very thoroughly after he clawed dear Madanach. And... and when Cicero said he should perhaps leave sweet Kaie, leave Madanach's daughter be, not court his betters...” Cicero closed his eyes, smile fading. “She said to go to Kaie!” he wailed. “She is Madanach's daughter too! But she did not tell poor Cicero this, why! She gave him up, sent him away! To her sister!” He turned on Liriel, eyes blazing.

“She did not tell me!!”

“Cicero,” Liriel gasped, grabbing his shoulders. In this sort of mood, he was capable of anything and the last thing she needed was him stabbing Eola in rage. “Cicero, she never told me either and she owed me that far more than she owed it to you. You're not her lover, Cicero!”

“No!” Cicero howled. “And Cicero never will be now! Cicero liked Eola! She was his kind! Not a princess going to marry someone else more deserving! Except now she is! Eola has to go to Madanach and be a princess or the Listener's heart will be broken! Cicero was going to gather flowers and meat and bring them as a gift for sweet Eola! Now... now there is no point!” He clung on to Liriel, sobbing in her arms. Liriel held on to him, stroking his hair as he wailed. Poor thing. He'd just lost Kaie for good and now he'd found out Eola was out of his league. Doubly heartbroken. But Eola wasn't dead and she did seem genuinely attracted to Cicero. There was hope.

“You still could,” Liriel whispered. “Cicero, Madanach named you blood-brother. Kaie explained it to me once, it's like being Thane except more so. It's the highest honour a Reach-King or Queen can grant, it makes you part of his family, his inner circle. If there's no agreed-on heir when a monarch dies, the blood-brothers and sisters fight amongst themselves to be the next ruler – the one who the others are willing to pledge fealty to or who can defeat them in battle takes over. It's not uncommon for them to marry the blood heirs of a king or queen. Kaie thought she might have to marry Odvan or Duach one day to cement their loyalty. If Madanach died tomorrow... you could be in with a shot at the throne, you know. If you're willing to stab or threaten the others into submission.”

Cicero went bright red and dissolved into laughter, hysterical howls and mad cackling taking him over as he slapped his thigh and sank to his knees, holding himself and rolling around in the snow, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Humble Cicero!” he howled. “King of the Reach! Ahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!! HEEE!!!!! That is funny, Listener, that is hilarious! Putting foolish Cicero in charge of anything! HEEHEEHEE!!!! Now that really is madness!”

Liriel couldn't honestly disagree there. Cicero was quite dangerous enough as it was, giving him subjects? Didn't bear thinking about. If Liriel was honest, Eola in charge of an entire country wasn't a lot better, but at least she was sane and had a fairly good idea of who she could get away with executing and eating.

“Well, it's a good thing Madanach still has an heir, isn't it?” said Liriel, staring Cicero down as he dried his eyes and pulled himself together. “But she's been gone for a decade. She's not had the years to make the friends, contacts and allies Kaie did. She'll need help, Cicero. Kaie might have been able to put off the whole marriage question – Eola won't be able to. She'll need internal alliances and fast. She'll need a consort sooner rather than later.” She stroked Cicero's cheek, smiling. “Why not one of her father's blood-brothers? And the one everyone's a little bit afraid of, and with good reason.”

“You think Eola should marry Borkul?” Cicero said, confused. “Cicero doesn't think Eola wants an Orc in her bed. On her plate, possibly.”

“Not Borkul!” Liriel sighed. “You! Everyone knows you're Dark Brotherhood, everyone knows you dealt with Igmund, everyone knows Madanach's fond of you and you're loyal to him, and everyone knows you're hard to beat in a fair fight. Madanach's last daughter, married to Madanach's Laughing Dagger, Cicero Jarl-Killer himself.”

All things Cicero had genuinely been called by various members of the Forsworn before now – back in Druadach they'd dubbed him Garra-Lann, the Knife who Laughs, and Liriel had yet to meet any of them who didn't respect his skills. He'd been able to walk into a Forsworn camp and been greeted as an old friend, fitting right in. He'd be invaluable as a consort for a newly-arrived and unsure of herself Reach-Princess. Most importantly of all, Eola already liked him. It was just a matter of persuading Cicero to do something about it.

“Me?” Cicero whispered. “Married... to Eola? Oh but Listener, I can't, I can't! Mother needs me, I can't just stop being Keeper!”

“Then we'll take her with us!” Liriel sighed. “I'm marrying Madanach if I can, don't forget. Easier for us all if I can have the Night Mother in Markarth somewhere. That way you can tend her once a week and keep an eye on her when Eola doesn't need you, hmm? I was thinking of setting up a Sanctuary in the Reach anyway with Eola leading it. Why not have the Night Mother there too?”

Cicero stared at her dumbstruck.

“Listener would do all that... for me?” he whispered. Liriel nodded, patting his shoulder.

“Yes, but not just for you. For Eola too – she's our beloved sister, isn't she? And for Madanach too. And... and because it has to work out or Madanach won't marry me and then I'll be sad. You don't want me to be sad, do you, Cicero?”

Cicero shook his head. “Oh no, sister, Cicero would never want his sweet Listener to be sad or unhappy! Listener must marry Listener-husband, Cicero will court sweet Eola, we move Mother to Markarth and everyone is happy!” Cicero clapped his hands, delighted with the way this had turned out. “Thank you, Listener! You have made Cicero happy, so very happy!” He skipped up to her, hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “So Cicero could bring Eola meat and flowers after all?”

“Maybe it's a little too soon for the flowers,” Liriel said. She didn't fully understand humans but even she knew that right after Kaie had died was a bit too soon for Cicero to start courting Eola. “But she'll never turn down meat.”

Cicero danced with delight, scampering after Liriel, cooing and singing to himself about cooking and grilling and frying Fair Nelly to fill his sweet Eola's belly. Then an unfortunate Nord highwayman decided it would be a good idea to attack the Altmer warrior-mage armed to the teeth and her singing jester companion.

“Oh look, Cicero,” Liriel purred, drawing Dawnbreaker. “The meat just turned up.”

“Dinner time!” Cicero squealed, drawing his own weapons and charging in. Maybe Liriel was bringing Eola less than welcome news about her family... but she could at least sweeten the blow for her.

Dawnstar Sanctuary was quiet, most of its inhabitants either asleep or out on jobs – Liriel had had a steady flow of work coming in since killing the Emperor, it wasn't unusual to have half the Sanctuary away from home at any one time. Fortunately Eola wasn't one of them – while she'd not wanted to join the battle, she'd still wanted to stick around to find out how it had gone and had limited herself to smaller jobs not too far from the Sanctuary.

She was still up, dressed in her Shrouded Armour, sitting alone in the kitchen, reading to herself. Appropriately enough, it was Madmen of the Reach.

“Eola,” Liriel called out softly, voice echoing out around the Sanctuary's stone walls. “Eola, we're back.” Behind her, Cicero padded behind, dropping his pack off near the alchemy lab and retrieving the wrapped package containing several fine cuts of Nord, in need of defrosting but ready to go once that had been done. He didn't say anything, hanging back nervously, staring wide-eyed at Eola.

Eola closed the book, turning to look at Liriel, hopeful smile on her face.

“Hey, cariad, you're back, how'd it go? Liriel?” She saw the sorrow on Liriel's face, smile vanishing. “Liriel, what's wrong, what happened? We didn't...”

“Ulfric's dead, don't worry,” said Liriel quietly. “We won.”

Eola shook her head, hand to her mouth. “You're not celebrating. What happened? Who died? Oh gods. Oh gods no, he's not...”

“Madanach's fine,” said Liriel, really not sure how to approach this but Eola was no fool, she clearly knew something was up. Best just to tell her. “Eola, I'm so sorry but... Kaie's dead. She was killed in the battle. We had her funeral last night.”

Soft laugh from Eola, who was shaking her head slowly.

“No,” Eola whispered. “No, she's not. She can't be. She...” Eola's eyes flicked from Liriel to Cicero, who was sniffling quietly behind Liriel, and Eola's face fell, hands going to her face as she bent low in her seat.

“Stupid she-daedra,” Eola gasped. “Stupid troll-faced she-daedra, what did she go and do that for?? She's not meant to... she's meant to be the responsible one, she's meant to be Queen one day, the Reach needs her! Da needs her! I need -” She stopped, letting out a sob. “Kaie, you stupid bitch, you can't be dead, you just can't.” Then Eola was crying, the predatory cannibalistic murdering Daedra-worshipper losing it completely and if it had broken Liriel's heart to see Madanach unhappy, it was downright weird to see Eola in tears.

“Eola...” Liriel whispered, all suspicions confirmed, but it was Cicero who pushed past her, racing to Eola's side, flinging the frozen cuts of Nord onto the table and kneeling at Eola's feet.

“Sweetling, sweetling, don't cry, don't cry, Cicero is here, oh sweetling, come here.” He was cradling her in his arms, holding her and rubbing her back, soothing her gently as she clung onto him, bawling her eyes out into his jester shirt. Liriel wondered if she should perhaps leave them to it, but Eola's tears finally subsided and she slowly looked up, defeated.

“You know, don't you,” she said quietly. Liriel nodded, hoping she looked sufficiently sympathetic.

“Madanach finally let your name slip and I realised,” Liriel said quietly, coming to kneel next to Eola, who was digesting this, working out what it all meant.

“Does he know I'm here?” Eola asked, looking away, looking as if her world had come crashing down. Liriel shook her head.

“Didn't want to get his hopes up. But he knows I'm out looking for you. He misses you, Eola.”

“Does he,” Eola whispered. “Is that why it's taken all this time for you to even find out from him I existed?”

“Don't say that, it's not like that!” Liriel protested, hand on Eola's back. “He adores you! He has no idea if you're even alive, he thinks that even if you are, you're done with the Reach, done with him. He thinks you don't care, that you've forgotten about him, that he'll never see you again. He doesn't know you were in the crowd at Markarth screaming 'All Hail the Reach-King', he doesn't know you helped me kill Matriarchs because you knew he wanted it, he's got no idea it was you who went for Arnbjorn after he got mauled. He doesn't know you're still his little girl at heart.”

“He thinks I'm a deserter,” Eola whispered into Cicero's shoulder, still clinging on to him. “Knew it.”

“No!” Liriel cried, appalled. Dear gods, Eola really thought that? She really hadn't been lying, it seemed. “Eola, he doesn't think that at all! He told me what had happened, you ran away because your mother tried to force you into marriage after you had entirely understandable reservations about joining an unwinnable war after what happened to your sisters. He thinks it's his fault, that he's to blame because he was in prison your entire childhood and couldn't do anything to stop it! Eola, the father who you said was the only one who never judged you, who loved you no matter what – he still does. He never stopped. You've still got him. If you want him.”

Eola closed her eyes and then she was crying again, heedless of anything as Cicero mewled and fussed over her, tears in his own eyes and Liriel finally took matters into her own hands and put her arms around the pair of them, holding them both to her as Eola sobbed her heart out. It seemed like a long time indeed before Eola's tears finally subsided.

“Can I go to bed?” Eola whispered. “I can't – I can't deal with all this right now, I just can't.”

Of course not, it must be midnight by now at least. They could all do with sleep by this point.

“Come on,” Liriel said, helping Eola up. “Let's go to my room. Bed's big enough for all three of us. Don't think you should be alone tonight.”

Eola nodded and let Liriel lead her off. Cicero lingered long enough to store the meat somewhere safe before following in their wake.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Liriel tucked Eola up in bed before spooning in behind her, Cicero snuggling in on her other side. Eola had stripped out of her Shrouds, exchanging them for a night shift, and both Liriel and Cicero kept themselves relatively covered. Eola needed comfort, nothing else, and she curled up into a ball, crying herself to sleep as they held her.

It was many hours later by the time any of them woke up, exhaustion and grief wearing them out. Liriel opened her eyes as Eola climbed out of bed, reaching for her clothes.

“Eola?” Liriel asked, wondering if she was really all right. Almost certainly not, but much like her father, she was more than capable of faking it if she had to.

“What?” Eola called back. “Need something, Liriel?”

“No, just wondered if you were all right,” Liriel said, acutely aware of how stupid that sounded but what else did she ask under these circumstances?

“No,” Eola said quietly. “Not really. But there's not much I can do, right? Kaie's dance might be over, but I still have mine.”

That sounded so much like something Madanach might say, Liriel could have cried. As it was, she held her composure, just about.

“Cicero brought you some meat,” Liriel told her. “A Nord highwayman. It's in the pantry if you're hungry.” At the mention of his name, Cicero stirred, poking his head above the pillow and blinking adorably up at them both. Eola actually smiled to hear that.

“Bless you both, you're the sweetest little murderers I've had the pleasure of knowing,” Eola purred. Cicero went a little bit pink but grinned to hear it, and stayed cheerful as he watched Eola leave.

“She likes me!” Cicero cooed to Liriel, eyes shining. Liriel ruffled his hair.

“I think so too, but you're still mourning Kaie, remember?”

“I know,” Cicero said quietly, lowering his eyes. “Cicero misses Kaie, and Eola is not her sister, Cicero knows. But Eola spoke truly. Our dance did not end because Kaie's did. Cicero could be happy with Eola.”

“I think so too,” Liriel whispered, pleased to see Cicero looking hopeful again. “Just give her a bit of space and time, hmm? Besides, Madanach's not going to be pleased if you crawl straight from one daughter's bed into the next, is he?”

Was it Liriel's imagination or did Cicero look ever so slightly eager at the prospect of an angry Madanach?

“Oh no, Listener, never Listener,” Cicero giggled. “Madanach would be furious with naughty Cicero, very very angry indeed. That would be...” He caught Liriel's eye and swiftly wiped the smile off his face. “Awful,” he said quickly. “Absolutely awful. Cicero shall do nothing, make no advances, not until a decent interval has passed anyway.”

“Good, you keep it that way,” Liriel warned him, reaching for her Shrouds. She knew humans reacted strangely to grief, but even so, there were limits. Fortunately, Cicero didn't argue, just pulling his motley on and skipping off to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eola was tucking in to the meat Cicero had brought her, apparently quite cheerful – on the outside anyway. She was laughing and joking with the rest of the Sanctuary, and it was almost as if she'd never been hurt. Liriel debated whether to say anything then decided not to. It was Eola's business after all.

It was only after dinner was finished that Eola tracked down Liriel, taking her aside for a private conversation.

“So you're not here just to break the sad news of my sister's passing to me, are you?” Eola said quietly. Liriel shook her head. Eola was no fool and had grasped what Liriel initially had not.

“Madanach needs an heir, doesn't he,” Eola said, more than a touch of bitterness to her voice. “And you want me to go to Markarth and be it, don't you.”

“I'm afraid so,” Liriel sighed. “I know it's probably the last thing you wanted, but I don't have a choice. I can't give him an heir – any child I have wouldn't be an adult for years after he dies and the Reach does not need a century or more of Altmer rule. Doesn't need the bloodbath that would result from his blood brothers all claiming the throne in the absence of an heir either.”

“Blood brothers,” Eola laughed, her voice hollow. “He has blood brothers. I imagine I'll end up marrying one, won't I? That's usually what happens when there's a child of one sex and blood brothers or sisters of the other. Da's joined the Empire to stop external enemies taking over, but there's always internal Reach politics, isn't there?”

“You might have to, yes,” Liriel admitted, patting her arm. “But not for a while and he'd never force you, you know that. Besides, if you want a respected blood brother of your father at your back, there's one who likes you already.”

That did get Eola's attention. “Yeah? I didn't know I knew any of them, who...?” She followed Liriel's gaze, eyes falling on Cicero and her eyes widened. “No! Really? Since when?”

“Since the funeral, Madanach did it as a way of thanking him for avenging Kaie and bringing her remains home, but they love him in the Reach. Garra-Lann they call him, the Knife That Laughs. And Jarl-Killer, but no one's officially meant to know he killed Igmund so they keep quiet about that one. The Forsworn think he's a hero, Eola. No one with a brain would put him in charge of anything, but you walk into Markarth with him at your side, that popularity will rub off. Eola, if you want Cicero, he's yours. Just wait a decent interval, that's all.”

“He's... a blood-brother of my father,” Eola gasped, shaking her head. “Cicero Garra-Lann! Holy Namira, that's adorable.” Her smile faded a little as she dropped her eyes. “I don't suppose I can just order him into my bed, can I?”

Liriel shook her head. “I think there'll need to be courtship first. And you're both still mourning your sister, don't forget.”

“I know,” said Eola quietly. “Speaking of which, must be nearly sunset by now, right? I take it they'll inter her ashes in the old way, buried at her birthplace and some scattered in the river, right?”

Liriel confirmed that had been Madanach's plan.

“They'll have done it by now in that case, it doesn't take that long to get back from Windhelm and the funeral was two nights ago now,” said Eola thoughtfully. “Liriel, can you and Cicero meet me on the beach outside an hour after sundown? There's something I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Liriel emerged from the Sanctuary, Cicero at her back, Eola was waiting, dressed in her Shrouds, kneeling by the waterline, staring at the stars. In her hand, she was clutching a handful of nightshade.

“What are we doing?” Liriel asked, curious. Another Forsworn funeral custom? Or a Reachwoman's way of saying goodbye?

“I never got to go to the funeral,” said Eola softly. “Never got to share my story. Never got to say goodbye. But you two are here to bear witness, and you both knew her. You'll do.” She straightened up, brushing her hair back behind her ears and began.

“I knew Kaie ap Madanach,” Eola intoned. “She was my sister. And my rival. And sometimes... sometimes my friend. Eithne was the one I idolised, Ama was the one who looked out for us both, but Kaie was the one I played with. Sometimes we fought. Sometimes we argued. Kaie could never understand why I just couldn't buckle down and put up with Ma like she did. She'd not seen them kill Ama, she didn't get it, I don't think. At least, I didn't think that at the time. Now, I'm not sure. Now I think perhaps she got it more than I did. She was the one who stayed. The loyal one. The good girl. The perfect princess. A hard act to follow and I... what am I next to that?? I saw her at Markarth leading troops, I saw her on that balcony looking like she was born to be there! When we were little, I thought she was weak for just going along with everyone's plans for her, but the woman she became wasn't weak at all, she was a true Queen in waiting. And now she's gone and it's my turn and... and I'm scared! I don't know what I'm doing, I didn't pay any attention to any of it as a kid and then I ran away and spent my entire adult life doing whatever I felt like and none of it's prepared me for a damn thing! Kaie, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you as a teenager, I know Ma didn't care but you were trying to help in your own way. I was the one too stupid to listen and now you're gone and... and I'll never be able to say sorry. I'll never be able to ask you for help. It's just me now, me and Da, I guess and I don't even know... He's a stranger now, Kaie. A handsome, charismatic, powerful stranger who's King of the Reach, but he's not the man who'd sweep into camp, pick me up and tell me stories or swing me round in the air so I could pretend I was a dragon. That man loved me. I think the King of the Reach is going to be horribly disappointed. But I don't have a choice. I wish you were here, Kaie. I miss you so much. You were right. I was wrong. Now I've got to try and be a Forsworn princess without you. It's not gonna be easy. This is your road I'm walking, not mine. But life and death chose other paths for us. I hope the old gods knew what they were doing.”

Eola wiped the tears from her eyes and got up, casting the nightshade flowers onto the ocean waves, watching as they drifted away.

“From the Void we came, to the Void we return,” Eola whispered. “Dance in starlight, Kaie.”

“Dance in starlight,” Liriel said softly, coming to stand next to Eola, putting an arm around her. She'd guessed right. Eola wanted to say goodbye.

On Eola's other side, Cicero had sidled up, snuggling next to her and the three of them stood that way for some time in silence, just watching the stars. Finally Eola broke away, heading to where her pack was waiting. She'd packed everything she owned.

“You're going somewhere?” Liriel asked, starting to panic. Eola couldn't run away! She was needed in Markarth! She needed to be Madanach's heir so he didn't have to marry a Reachwoman.

“Yeah,” Eola sighed. She saw the stricken look on Liriel's face and smiled. “I'm not running away, don't worry. Da's still getting his heir. You don't need to worry about my line turning up to disinherit your baby one day.”

“That's not what I was worried about,” Liriel whispered. Eola frowned a little, then her eyebrows shot up.

“You were afraid he'd send you away and marry someone else? Oh cariad, he wouldn't do that, he loves you...” Eola's voice died away as she saw the look on Liriel's face, the tears that Liriel refused to cry but that would come spilling out if Eola pressed that point. “Wait, did he say he'd do that?”

“He didn't want to, but he said he wouldn't have a choice if I didn't give him heirs,” Liriel said brokenly. “Then when I found out about you... Eola, please. I don't... I can't...”

Eola moved forward and then she had her arms round Liriel, comforting her and holding her tight.

“Liriel,” Eola murmured. “Champion of Namira. Don't worry, cariad, don't worry. He's going to marry you, don't you worry about that.” She let Liriel go and stood back, sad little smile in place. “Giving up my freedom's a big deal for me, I hope you realise that. But for you, I'll do it. Just let me go on one last hunt, one last contract. I took the Maluril job off Nazir, it's not far and on the way. When that's done, I'll head down there, turn myself in, see what he's got to say. I hope you're right about him missing me, Liriel.”

“He does,” Liriel breathed, remembering the hope in Madanach's eyes as she'd said goodbye. “He loves you, I promise.”

Eola laughed, kissed Liriel on the cheek and turned to Cicero.

“Well, Cicero, this is it. Next time you see me, I'll be a princess.”

Cicero laughed nervously, but his heart wasn't in it, in fact he was trembling. Suddenly he pounced on her, clinging on to Eola and sniffling into her shoulder.

“Eola must take care,” he managed to say. “Eola must stay safe and be happy and if Eola is not happy...” He let her go, staring into her eyes, looking very serious for once. “Eola must write and tell Cicero. Cicero will not leave you alone with the silence, waiting for a voice that never comes. Cicero is your brother. Cicero will not leave.”

“I know,” said Eola. She kissed him quickly on the cheek and broke away, shouldering her pack and without looking back, ran towards Dawnstar. Liriel and Cicero watched until she was out of sight, and it was only then that Cicero collapsed in Liriel's arms, sniffling all over her.

“Cicero,” Liriel whispered, not sure what to say to him. “She'll be all right, her father loves her.”

“Love?” Cicero gasped, his voice ragged and harsh. “Love is not chaining your beloved up, not unless they like chains. Eola was not made to be a prisoner.”

“She's just like her father then,” Liriel said quietly, holding Cicero tight. “She'll be all right, she will! We'll give her a few weeks, listen out for news that she's been officially made heir, then we'll go see her. Don't worry, Cicero. Between the two of us, we can take care of her. We're not abandoning our sister.”

Cicero tightened his grip on her Shrouded Armour. “Never,” he growled. Liriel ruffled his hair, starting to smile. She couldn't bring Kaie back, she couldn't birth an heir for him herself... but she could send Madanach his youngest child. Maybe Eola was scared, but Liriel knew her better than she realised. The Reach was going to be just fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two weeks. Two weeks since Kaie had burned and Windhelm had fallen. Two weeks since returning to Markarth and a city poised for victory celebrations had become a city in mourning.

Two weeks of constant whispering and looks and speculation, because he was a king without heirs and the whole Reach knew it. Had Madanach gained his kingdom only to lose it?

He'd said Liriel could have a year, but he wasn't sure he could stand a year of this. Not the rumours, the gossip, not the filthy looks Argis was getting from some of the Forsworn and definitely not the unofficial approaches to Nepos from families with eligible young daughters all wondering if the Reach-King was keen to get right on with replacing Kaie.

It didn't work like that. Madanach missed her more than he could even find words for. Many was the time he'd gone to look for her without realising, or stood in the doorway of her room and just stared at it, willing its occupant to come home. They'd already cleared her personal effects out, the weapons and armour to the armoury, everything else into storage. He'd not been able to face doing it himself.

Kaie was meant to have been in charge of the Forsworn, commander of his military. Uraccen had taken the job instead with Duach as second-in-command. All well and good, but factions were starting to form and Madanach had a horrible feeling that once he died, Duach, Odvan and Uraccen might well tear the Reach apart in the resulting fight for power. About the only other option was declaring Argis heir, but Madanach had a feeling he'd be signing the boy's own death warrant if he did that. Best to let him go to Solitude, marry Elisif, be happy there. Someone might as well be. It wasn't going to be him.

It was in this frame of mind that Madanach retired to his bedroom, the grand master bedroom of Markarth's Jarls and now he had it, he wasn't even sure he wanted it. He'd rather have Druadach Redoubt as home and Kaie in the next tent over. I miss you, daughter. I'd trade all this away to bring you back to life. I should never have taken you to Windhelm, I should have listened to Nepos, left you here... oh Kaie.

He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it, resisting the temptation to sink to the floor in a little ball and howl at the unfairness of it all. As it was, he was having a hard time keeping it together. At least, he was until he glimpsed movement, a flash of black and red cloth in his chair, facing the waterfall, heard the sound of someone else breathing and by Sithis he wasn't alone.

Mage armour sparked into life around him and lightning crackled into his hands.

“Who are you,” he growled, grief forgotten. “How did you get in here?”

“Oh, don't blame your guards, no one sees me if I don't want them to,” a woman laughed, and while the accent was a Reach one, it wasn't quite like the rest of the Forsworn. Softer. Less rough edges. A bit more cultured, with hints of Cyrodiil and High Rock and even Morrowind, as if the speaker had travelled. She got to her feet, dressed in the Shrouded Robes of the Brotherhood, the hood hiding her face, but she was about three inches shorter than him and from the look of her, young but not inexperienced. A Dark Brotherhood assassin and a skilled one, but not one of those from Falkreath... or was she? Madanach recalled hearing how Liriel had had another recruit at her side when killing Drascua, not one of Astrid's but one of hers, and Madanach vaguely recalled that Nord werewolf dying in agony as a woman in Shrouded Armour had shocked him to death then shoved a sword into his chest in a move that would have done any Forsworn proud. Was this her?

“Did Liriel send you?” Madanach asked warily. The woman stood facing him, faint smile just visible under that hood. She nodded once.

“It's not a contract, is it?” Madanach asked, fairly certain it probably wasn't. Liriel would take no contract against him, but if she ever did, she'd probably see to it in person. The woman shook her head.

“No,” she whispered, voice catching in her throat. “No, I... I heard you lost your daughter. I was told you needed an heir.”

Now things had just got very weird indeed, although Liriel had always been a pragmatic sort and sending a Reachwoman Dark Sister to be surrogate mother was the type of thing she might think of. All the same, he preferred being consulted on this sort of arrangement first.

“I just lost my daughter, I'm not taking another wife just yet,” he growled. “Or a concubine, for that matter. Out with it. Why did she send you?”

Laughter that was almost a sob. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Should I?” Madanach asked, but his instincts were nagging at him, something telling him he should know this woman, and then he remembered what Liriel had said she'd confidently be able to do. Surely not, it hadn't even been a month...

It can't be. You can't be alive, here, come home, you can't...

She'd not replied, just staring at those muffled shoes of hers, shoulders hunched and arms folded as her earlier confidence died out of her. As if she feared his reaction.

“Show me your face,” he whispered. “If we know each other, show me your face. You could be anyone under there.”

Slowly, she raised her hands to her hood and as it fell back to reveal dark blonde hair just like his had once been, Madanach felt his mouth go dry. He saw her face, and blind eye with the war-paint that hid scars but only made the injury more visible aside, he saw Mireen there, Keirine as a young woman, his own features too, but more than anything, he saw Eithne. The image of his firstborn, come home.

She was breathing deeply, almost gasping for breath, as she raised her eyes to his. Madanach stepped closer, own breath catching in his throat, sure this wasn't real, it couldn't be, not Eola come back to him...

“It can't be,” he whispered. “Surely not...”

She nodded slowly, putting a hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes.

“It's me,” she breathed. “Daddy, it's me, I came home...”

There were tears on her cheeks and Madanach's own vision was starting to blur as he reached her, hand raised to touch her face. She actually did sob at that, leaning into his hand.

“She found you,” Madanach gasped, barely able to believe that Eola, his Eola, had finally come back to him. He'd still got a daughter. Still got an heir. Got his little princess back. “Liriel actually found you. Eola...”

Eola nodded, dissolving into tears, and Madanach pulled her into his arms, holding her to him, kissing the top of her head and clutching her to his chest, afraid to let her go in case she ran away again.

“I'm sorry,” Eola sobbed, clinging on to him. “I'm so sorry.”

“Daughter,” Madanach gasped, knowing his own tears were flowing and not caring. “You came back. You're not... you're not dead.”

Eola shook her head, still weeping. Madanach could barely believe it. She'd heard, she must have heard the news, all of it, he'd hoped she might, wondered constantly but decided she didn't care any more or she'd have come to see him, surely? Now she had, and she clearly cared because here she was, sobbing all over him like it was her fault. Gods, never, none of it, didn't she realise that?

“You came home,” he murmured, kissing her again. “That's all that matters. You're here and alive, that's the important thing, the only thing. Cariad, cariad, you're home now. It's all right. I've got you.”

“It's not all right!” she sobbed. “I ran away! And – and Kaie's gone and I never got to...”

Never got to say goodbye? Or that she was sorry? Madanach didn't know a lot about how Kaie and Eola had got on, they'd not really talked about it much, but while Kaie had had a lot of anger towards Eola for running, he'd seen enough to know that the anger masked a deeper hurt. Kaie had cared about her little sister even though she'd disapproved. Seemed the feeling had been mutual.

“I don't blame you for running,” Madanach said quietly. “After what your mother did to you, I'm not surprised, in fact I'm proud of you for not taking it. We suffered enough from the Nords, we shouldn't have to put up with abuse from our own. I just wish I'd been there when you needed me.”

“You were in Cidhna Mine, you couldn't help it,” Eola whispered. Madanach could only laugh bitterly at that.

“Oh m'inyeen. I should have broken out years ago. I wanted to. Wanted to go after you, try and find you... where did you go? What happened to your eye? Have you been in the Dark Brotherhood all that time, is that how you met Liriel?”

“No, no, Liriel only recruited me recently,” Eola laughed, finally smiling. “I went all over the place, travelled the world, did a bit of mercenary work, studied at Winterhold, went to Blacklight and Daggerfall and Cheydinhal, learnt all sorts. Lost the eye in a conjuration experiment gone wrong. But I missed home, so I came back. I – I was living rough in some old Nordic ruins, living like a bandit, hunting at night so the Forsworn didn't see me. I don't know why I came back, but I guess I was hoping for news of – of you. Then the dragons came back and the Draugr in the tomb I lived in all rose from the dead and I had to run. I hid myself in Markarth, stayed out of sight, and then Liriel found me there. She went back to the ruins with me and killed all the Draugr and we've been friends ever since. Then she helped you break out and started hanging out with you and asking me all sorts of questions about the Forsworn and she turned out to be the Night Mother's Matriarch. So of course I helped her.”

“It was you who helped her kill Drascua,” Madanach whispered, not sure whether to scream at her for risking her life like that or be very impressed. He settled for impressed. He didn't want her to run away again after all. Eola nodded.

“Yeah. She comes in about a month after you escaped, saying someone very high up in the Forsworn is losing patience with the Matriarchs and wants them bringing into line and needed the children of Sithis to do it for them. There's only one person in the Forsworn who'd see the Hags as rivals and not be one. Of course I said yes. Anything my da needs, my da gets.”

Including an heir to the throne, it seemed. A talented, brave, resilient, loyal heir to the throne who could lose an eye and just brush it off as an experiment gone wrong (what had she been summoning exactly??).

“That's very sweet of you, daughter,” Madanach murmured, stroking her hair as she nestled up against him. “Thinking of your old da like that, I'm touched.”

He felt her laugh, fingers squeezing his upper arm, and while he might be joking on the outside, he was barely containing himself on the inside. She'd been five when he last saw her, a tiny little thing who followed him everywhere and wanted to be just like him when she grew up and wanted to be a mighty warrior-witch too so they could kill Nords together. She always had idolised him. He'd loved the attention even while he'd recalled how brutal and bloody the reality was and felt horrible about the eventual disillusionment. He'd always imagined he'd be there to help her through it. As it was, he'd been torn away from her first.

“I didn't even think you'd remember me,” Madanach said, rather glad she couldn't see his face right now. “I thought you must have grown up, gone away and forgotten about me. I didn't think I'd ever see you again.”

Eola shook her head, finally lifting her face up to look at him, blotchy and tearful but he still thought she looked beautiful.

“How was I ever supposed to forget you?” she whispered. “You were everything to me! I loved you so much... and then you were gone. They said you'd been taken prisoner, but I never believed them. I thought you'd died, you must have done, how could anyone lock you away? Took me years to finally realise even you had your weaknesses. I didn't think I'd ever see you again either... but I never forgot.”

Madanach couldn't even talk by this point, a master speech-maker lost for words. All he could do was hold his daughter in his arms and weep for the ones he'd lost... and for the last of them returned to him, one last gift from the old gods. Kaie was gone and he'd always mourn her as he grieved for her sisters... but Eola lived and was his again. By the grace of the old gods, he swore that this time, he'd get it right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there you go, a nice happy reunion to warm your hearts and console you after the angst-fest that the last two chapters were. Next chapter - Eola and Madanach are finding that all is not running smoothly as both have to start dealing with who the other actually is, not who they remember. Fortunately, Liriel and Cicero are on hand to help, and the timing couldn't be better as the Reach's politics take an unexpected turn.

Crap, can a mod delete this post?

There is so much awww in this chapter. Eola's goodbye to Kaie was especially touching.

THIS IS AMAZING. PLEASE CONTINUE!

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