Lilah and Gillian uncover a clue to Lilah's magical ability. Although Vilkas is drawn to Lilah like a moth to a flame, he doesn't understand why. And after the night he's about to have, he may be even more wary.

"Can you still see Maddy?" Lilah called to Gillian from the alchemy lab in the back room of Breezehome, a mortar full of dried mushrooms and butterfly wings clenched in her hands. Aela was right – she needed to keep busy, and creating potions was one of the few things she could do to help. And to keep sane, since she was still reeling after Paarthurnax's bombshell: they might never find another portal home from Skyrim.

Gillian had tried teaching Lilah spells, just in case Paarthurnax was wrong about her ability to manipulate magicka that way, but it was no use. Lilah thought it felt like trying to get light from a lamp with a broken switch. The power was there, flowing through her blood like electricity through a wire. She'd become aware of it, after days of practicing. The old dragon had been right.

But potions – Lilah was a natural. It might be, she guessed, because of all those chemistry classes in college. Maybe working with solutions and distillates and residues and precipitates was like riding a bicycle. After twenty years.

Like the lamp analogy, it made little sense to Gillian, but it did inspire hope. It was one thing to use the equipment properly. Even Farkas could heat ingredients in a calcinator or light a fire under an alembic. But, if there wasn't the requisite magicka and innate talent, the potion would be a dud. Somehow, Lilah made it happen, by herself. But how?

"Yes, she's right outside. She and Braith and Lucia – those are Amren and Saffir's daughters, you met them yesterday – they're making flower chains. Funny, Braith picks on just about everyone here, but she's sweet to Maddy. Maybe because she's so young?"

"Maybe," Lilah gave the mortar a last quick jab and dumped the contents into an alembic along with some ale. Wheat was the other ingredient listed in the spotted and tattered recipe nailed to the wall, but Gillian produced a better health potion using ale as a solvent, and leaving the wheat out. She thought it could be the juniper in the ale. An ingredient for health regeneration might make the potion work faster. In any case, it was a quick substitution. Lilah lit the fire and walked over to watch the kids.

"Maddy's always gotten along with older kids," she mused, running her hands over a golden bow mounted on the wall. "Not sure why. Maybe you're right, and they want to mommy her, and she likes it."

"So," Gillian asked, watching Lilah pull at her shoulders, "how are the archery lessons coming?"

"Ok. I'm terrible, and weak. I've barely been able to draw even the beginner's bow, but Aela said it wasn't too bad for someone who's never picked up any weapon at all. Well, other than a jackknife. There's just not much use for archery where I'm from, you know? So I don't use those muscles," she said, bending from side to side. "Between that, swordplay, and the potion table, my back is killing me."

"You'll get it. All of it. And I heard you're braving the abrasive Njada for sword and shield practice?"

"Yeah, just the basics. It's not like I'm training to join the squad. She agreed to teach Madison, too. She's surprisingly patient."

"Njada's only really a bitch to people who aren't pulling their weight or aren't working as hard as possible. You and Maddy…as I said the first day we met, I'd be a mewling mess in your shoes," she said, turning back to the window. "You're making this look easy. Njada respects that, even if she's a little gruff about it."

"Well, she's a pretty good teacher. Again, there's lots of pain. I wasn't exactly in shape back in…back home. Honestly, we don't have to be," she said, walking back to check on her potion. It was still distilling. "So, tell me about this summer festival. Farkas mentioned it's some time next week?"

"First day of summer, yeah. Lots of food. Lots of ale and mead. Flowers and wreaths everywhere. Oh, big bonfire. It's fun. There're swordfighting and archery tournaments, and everyone just plays the whole day. And singing, lots of singing – you'll like that." Gillian winked, remembering her after-hours serenade last week.

Lilah blushed. "Anything I can help with? Maddy too, she loves to help out."

"Arcadia and Fralia, that's Eorlund's wife, they make little sachets to sell with the flowers you've been picking and drying. Legend is, if you put one under your pillow that night, you'll dream of the person you'll spend the rest of your life with. On a related note," she said, "you need a summer dress to wear. Even the jarl comes down from his perch for the day; you can't go in a borrowed tunic. Maddy too."

"Beggars can't be choosers. It's not like I can access my bank account here."

"I'm assuming that's some form of money. Well, no, but you've been working your ass off for the past week. And if you spend the next couple of days making potions for me and Arcadia and helping sew sachets, you'll more than pay for a few outfits."

"Are there dresses anywhere in Skyrim? I haven't seen women wearing anything but tunics and leggings. And…lots and lots of armor."

"There are. You just have to know where to go," Gillian said, and lit up like a candle. "Hey! We should go to Solitude! They have a great shop. I don't use my Dovahkiin status often, but I will to get after-hours appointments with a dressmaker. While we're on the topic, come upstairs. There's something you might like to see."

After setting the potions aside to cool, Lilah went up the temporary ladder to Gillian and Argis's bedroom. The green-quilted bed took up most of the room, and it was, Lilah noticed, the only room in the house not decorated with assorted weaponry. Instead, tapestries and colorful quilts covered the walls. Gillian bent over a large chest in the corner.

"Here, my favorite dress," she said, pulling a fluffy mass of red and gold silk out and handing it to Lilah. "I'm sure it's not fashion like you're used to, but it sure is pretty."

Lilah held the dress at arms-length, and whistled. Shimmering panels of gold, dark red, and copper silk drifted under a bodice constructed of…"wow, what is this on the top?"

"Dragon scales, if you can believe it. Eorlund does amazing things with most materials, but with dragon scale? He's an artist. Here, try it on."

Lilah hesitated, then giggled and lay the dress carefully on the bed, wrestling out of her tunic and leggings.

Gillian helped her into the dress and pulled the gold chains to fasten at the neck, waist, and across the back. "It doesn't quite meet in the back. About a half an inch…"

"I am a bit softer than you are."

"Probably not. I've not done much, physically, since Yuletide. I told the twins I was done with missions after Markarth, and then I met Argis, and it was sweetrolls and sex every day. No time for training. So, I might not fit that dress anymore either. And you know what? It's totally worth it."

Lilah laughed. "I've exercised more since coming here than ever before. Y'all lead active lives. This dress…you're right. It's gorgeous. Thank you for letting me try it on."

"You'll be trying on all the things, because we're going to Solitude. Tomorrow. You and me and Maddy. Probably Ria. Argis'll come too, since Vilkas will insist that either he or Farkas go with us."

Lilah's stomach flip-flopped at Vilkas's name. She paused with the dress halfway down her hips. "He...wouldn't come, would he?"

Gillian smiled. "No, he'll to be too busy arranging things for the festival, and dealing with Torvar, and getting back into training and supervision, since he thinks everything is on his shoulders now. Silly man. We're adults, all of us. Our bad choices aren't on him."

"He just wants to prevent unnecessary death. As a fellow living person, I salute that endeavor."

"Yes, I do too. I just wish," Gillian mused, folding the silk dress back into its trunk, "he didn't take things so personally. Work is good. Duty's good. But guilt? That'll eat you up until there's nothing left. I'd hate for that to happen to such a good man."

"It's late. Everyone's in bed. You shouldn't be out here alone," Vilkas said, his soft boots quiet on the cobblestones.

Lilah whirled around in the overlook behind the training yard, her heart pounding. "No, because there's some creeper running around scaring women, right? God, Vilkas. Wear a bell or something."

"A creeper?" He looked around for a moment and groaned. She was talking about him. "Fair point. But still, you shouldn't be out here. We still don't know what those mages wanted from you, or if they can still find you, somehow."

"But I thought Paarthurnax studied that dagger and said –"

"Yeah, they can't track your blood without it," he said, walking into the overlook to stand beside her. "But he also said he had to talk to Akatosh about why the mages were using it on you, that he had no idea. Now, if an ancient dragon has to talk to a god about current events, you can bet the answer is going to be scary. So…why are you out here alone?"

"I still can't believe gods in your world are real. Blessings and magical healing…real. Crazy."

Vilkas sighed and leaned against the stone wall. He'd seen her through the window on his way to bed, and found himself walking outside instead of downstairs. It was late; he should lead her back inside… "You don't have gods where you come from?"

"No one really knows. Lots of people believe in some god or other. Some swear they have proof; some have faith. I never believed. But, we didn't have shrines that would heal our cuts and bruises if we touched them either, so…it's just a lot to take in."

Vilkas rolled his eyes. Philosophy. "So that's why you're out here? Alone, where anyone could come by and grab you? You can't think inside?"

"You, sir, are tenacious. I'm thinking about things I'd be better off just…leaving alone. And watching torchbugs flying around," she said, motioning to soft, yellow lights dancing in the field. "Can't watch those inside. We have torchbugs back home, you know? We call them lightning bugs, though. Or fireflies."

"I'm sorry," Vilkas said after a moment. "About finding you a way home. We'll still try; we'll-"

Lilah wiped a tear away. "I'm fine. I'm…fine. I've had lots of sketchy moments over the past few days, but I'm fine. And even if we never get to go home, life will go on and I'll eventually be…fine."

"Not that I know a lot about it," he said, watching her out of the corner of his eye, "but in my experience, people who say they'll be fine that many times don't think they will be. And that's fine-"

"You were just saying?" Lilah smiled. She stretched her arms over the wall and sighed as some of the tension rippled out of her sore muscles.

"Bad choice of words, I admit. But, no one expects you to act like nothing happened. Being pulled out of your world into one that's…completely different? That's kind of a big deal. You're allowed to be upset."

"Gillian said the same thing. And thank you, I'll never be able to thank you enough for the help y'all have been. Truly, it's -" Lilah swallowed and wiped her eyes again. "It's just…my mom and dad. Maddy's grandparents. Maddy's father. They have to think we're dead. Or lost, or kidnapped. Being hurt or something worse. I don't know what's worse, but…worse. I know if I lost Maddy, and had to think of all the things that could…I'd rather die, and that's the truth. This is just going to kill them, and…there." She smacked her hand on the wall. "I've let myself think about it too long already. If I keep this up, I'll never get out of bed again."

"Well, you can't do that. Someone else will need your room, eventually."

Lilah pushed off her elbows and looked up, her eyes shining. "Vilkas. Did you just make a joke?"

"I know it does no good to dwell on things." Vilkas laughed at Lilah's pointed look. "I may need to take my own advice once in a while."

"There's a saying in our world," Lilah said, watching a hawk fly overhead, its silhouette sharp in the moonlight. "I can't remember who said it or even what the right words are. But…it's something like 'if you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back.'"

"That," he said with a shudder, "sounds truly disturbing. What does it mean?"

Lilah shrugged. "People take different things from it. I think," she said, narrowing her eyes and looking up at the stars, "if you concentrate too much on your troubles, your troubles get bigger and stronger and scarier. If you keep thinking about your fears, you let your fears control you. Something like that."

"Well, some worries and fears are bigger than others. It's hard to look away."

"Yes, well, as you say, I, too, should learn to take my own advice." Lilah watched his jaw clench as he stared out into the darkness. She shivered in the cold night air, and wondered what his abyss looked like.

In the early morning darkness, just before dawn, Vilkas sank into a dream.

He and Lilah stood, fully clothed, in the bathing pool downstairs. She watched him with heavy-lidded eyes and a crooked smile on her rosy lips. Were they always that red? The pool whirled and bubbled, sending warm steam throughout the cavern.

He walked toward her, looking down and wondering why he was bathing in his armor. Lilah unlaced her tunic and slowly let it fall from her shoulders, revealing milky white skin. It fell into the pool and drifted with the current. He ran his fingers down her arm. Soft to the touch.

She stepped into his arms and raised a hand to caress his cheek. Her other hand slid round the back of his neck and slowly pulled his head down, his lips almost touching hers.

"Vilkas," she whispered. Her lips slid along his jaw, up to his ear. He could hear the smile in her voice. "What is life's greatest illusion?"

He staggered back, pushing her away. Bloody tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed into the pool. A too-wide smile slithered across her face as she walked toward him, her body covered in blood. Turning to run, he tripped over a rocky outcropping and fell into the red water. On his hands, he scuttled backwards as she lunged, her eyes black. Her fangs sharp and white in her bloody mouth.

He awoke, his chest heaving, sweat running down his back. He shook his head against his pillow, shutting his eyes against words boiling up from somewhere deep inside him, desperate to be spoken. It was just a dream. He sat up and covered his head with his hands and breathed deeply, his head on his knees. It was just a dream. The words were just a…projection. Faulty memory, just like Farengar said.

Only…he knew better. Felt it in his bones. Just as he knew how to answer the riddle that... garish caricature of Lilah'd asked him in his nightmare. He swallowed, and nearly gagged.

"Innocence, my brother," he whispered into the abyss.

*Gillian wore her dragonscale dress in Sun on Stone, chapter 9. If you'd like to read more about it, and how it was made, that chapter describes it in more detail.

Thanks to everyone who's reading! All feedback (especially constructive criticsm) more than welcome!