AN: It's been a long tyme guys. . . . Well, I'll just give you the skinny of it: I got pregnant and now my baby is three months
old. That's why I haven't written in so long. And for the mere fact that I got kinda a writers block there for a long tyme. . . .
O well!!!! On with the chappy!!!!!
Chapter 9
It was the hardest thing that she ever remembered doing. Just trying to remember. The dreams, O Creator, the dreams
had been so real. What was real anymore? The only real thing to her now was this place and him and how happy
everything was. Aside from her emotional battles, she was happy. The scars were merely souvenirs now, a reminder of
tyme not well spent and even less appreciated. She needed a spell, one that would unlock her true memories. She knew
of only one plant that could help her unlock the truth: Goat's Beard. Dried and put a few other things with it from the
garden. Then grind it all up and put in the Eternal Flame to smolder. She had heard that one sleeps for days afterward
but she had waited almost a full year to the day, she could wait a few days longer. The only trouble with Goat's Beard is
trying to find it.
Her hair lay across her pillow in tangled matts, no wonder she always cut it before. She raised from the bed and went to
the cupboard. She took out her skinning knife put her hair into a ponytail at the base of her neck and sliced just above the
band. She had never thought about her hair before, how inconvenient it was. It was odd that she should just remembered
it. It always got in the way of drawing her sword from her back and got tangled in her bow and arrows if she didn't cut it.
She held the ponytail up in her hand and looked at the shining red mass of waves. She liked her hair long, even if it was
inconvenient. But convenience is always a plus when you are about to kill a whole mass of people while trying not to get
caught. Her hair could grow back at another tyme, just not now, not while she needed to be back in her old frame of mind.
She placed the hair in the cupboard (she didn't know why she wanted to keep it, she just did.) And then she went to the
portal and went downstairs. Zachariah had venison in the vault down by the wine racks, where it was nice and cold. She
teleported as quietly as she could into the vault, went straight to the chest and pulled out a few good chunks of the meat. If
she made a good stew then there wouldn't be a need to make breakfast the next morning. She tiptoed back to the
portal, and a stray thought crossed her mind: Why deos he sleep down here in the cold? She peeked across the way
and, as she had just thought about it, she felt guilty. Regret swept thru her and down to the very bottoms of her toes and
rushed back to the top of her head.
She let her feet whisper over to his bedside. She could at least give him a little comfort. She laid her hand on his arm
and whispered a spell of warmth over his sleeping form. A small smile thinned his pouting lips and he rolled over and
snuggled into his blanket. The spell would last all night. She felt a little less guilty then. She went upstairs to cook and to
think. She shouldn't be bringing him into her problems like this, she thought. It's unfair that she would only want him with
her so that her chance of survival was higher. She wanted him to live, it didn't matter if she died on her quest, but she
wouldn't be responsible for another death. . . . .
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He hadn't expected such an intrusion of his privacy that night. Thank the Creator she had thought he was asleep!!! His
late night activities were private ones and he didn't want her to see him like that. He didn't want her to catch him doing
what he knew was unconchinable. He couldn't help himself, he felt like melting ice when he was with her, how could he not
do what he had always done? Women weren't very high on his list of priorities, why was she? She's just another woman,
why is she so special?
He knew he only felt this way because it had been so long since he had been with a woman. That's all it was and she was
the only woman around. These feelings would go away as soon as he reached a city. He had favorites in every town and
Inn in Cyrrodil. But, try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to think of any of those other women late at night. Not
anymore anyway, oh, he did before. Before they started having conversations that lasted all day, before he had seen her
calling to the "Night Mother." She seemed to need him, yet she was so full of fire. What was he to do when she got
better? Would she leave? No, he thought, she has already made it plain that this place is her home. She would never
leave it. Perhaps they could just live here together? Sharing wasn't so hard, he usually was out exploring some cave
killing vampires anyway. That's what he'd do, he'd ask her if she would just share. Maybe he wouldn't be so apt to stay
away for so long then, if he had something to look forward to.
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The tyme never came when he could talk to her about his thoughts tho. She had gone with the early morn and had only left
him a note and a ponytail of her hair. The only thing besides her memory of what had happened in the year between her
being hurt and her stealing away in the darkness. The only token that she had been here at all. He went out onto the
steps and looked out onto the massive landscape below. Where could you have gone? He knew that she could be all the
way around the world from him now. She had described Shadowmere's amazing talents. She had said that the groups
hall was in Cheydinhal.
His horse was saddled and his supply bag was packed by true dawn. . . . .
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It took her nearly two months to find the Goat's Beard. She had to go thru three different ruins and seven different old forts
before she found it. The halls and ruins all held their own dangers. A few tymes it was bandits, a few tymes it was goblins
and trolls, even vampires!!! But it was worth it. She placed the purple flower blossoms in her journal and took some of
the five fingered leaves just in case. Now to go on with this insane plan of hers. She could always go back and ask
Zachariah if he would go with her and help her. But she knew that it was her burden to bare. She couldn't let him die for
what she knew was only revenge (and absolution.) If she died then he would be better off. If she lived. . . . . she would
dwell on thoughts like those later. She couldn't allow herself to admit that she cared for him. That isn't the way of a
warrior. She needed to sneak back into the Spire and use the Eternal Flame tho. Surely he had gone to look for her?
That thought merely hurt her more. He would not have gone in search of her because he felt nothing but pity toward her!!!
That's all his kindnesses were!!!! Pity and fear that she would kill him when she was strong enough.
But how could she even think of draining the life from those deep sea eyes? How could she? He didn't know that she
couldn't tho. They had never spoken again of what she had said in her feverish state, what she had done, to her great
relief. She shook her head violently, sending her hair flying from it's needles.
She didn't need to know how he felt about things!!! All she needed to do was get to the Eternal Flame, use it, remember
and go after those responsible for her near demise. After that she could dwell on things that she convinced herself didn't
matter. . . .
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Perhaps she had gone back to the Spire? Hopefully she would realize what a crazy notion all of this was and just go
home. It wasn't his home now, it was theirs. He couldn't think of how it would be to live there without her. She had to've
realized she was wrong and went home, that's why she hadn't come to Cheydinhal, she was waiting for him. But, just in
case, he paid a local spellcaster and some spies to keep a lookout for her and to signal him if they saw her. Surely he
would find her eventually.
His blue eyes shot open wide, his eyelashes scraping against the pillow. He had never thought about any woman this
way. He had never thought of what it would be like to live without them because, well, he had never (really) been with
them. He had always seen women as tools to be used by the needy, if you will. But Sy was different, she was, well . . .
she was Sy. . . . She was his only, and best, friend. If he had been at the Guild where he belonged he wouldn't've gotten
himself into this "woman" mess. But, then again, Sybelle would've died. . . . The Guild could function without him, he
merely stayed to get his cut anymore. There were no more thrilling experiences to be had on the waterfront, everybody
just did what he said. Thrills were to be had elsewyre tho. (AN: LOL!!! To those of you who actually know what Elsewyre
is!!!!! ) He packed his horse and paid the spellcaster. If she wasn't here within a month she wouldn't be here at all. He
needed to tell her everything that he had just found out about himself or die trying to find her so he could.
AN: Surprised? Yeah, it's all kinda like that and stuff. If you haven't figured out why you don't know anything about
Zachariah Crane yet, don't worry, you will. . . . IN THE NEXT CHAPPY!!!!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! RANDR!!!!
