I cracked open an eye. My wrists were throbbing terribly and my head was pounding most was even worse, I felt like freezing solid. I had snuggled up to Ondolemar, who was laying on his back in a vain attempt to preserve heat. He on the other hand looked perfectly at ease, even snoring slightly.

The room's only little rag-covered window was dark, so it must be night still. What had woken me up? There was no one else in the room, that I was sure of. Magic users over the years tend to develop an ability to sense presence, not unlike the Detect Life spell, but far more intrinsic to the very nature of magic than any man or mer-made spell could ever be.

Then it hit me. Of course I woke up. It wasn't the throbbing of my injured hands, or the cold night of spring in Skyrim, or a sound from outside. My magic was back.

I rolled carefully out of the bed and padded bare-foot across the cold stone floor. Gods, the place was so poor they couldn't even afford a proper rug. I stayed hunched low, fearing discovery. The door hadn't been even locked, so I slipped out off the room and closed it behind me just as quietly.

The counter was manned by a scruffy, dirty youth, not the chatty innkeeper of before. He was cleaning mugs lined in front of him with a rag that looked to have seen not better days, but better centuries. I just asked for a mug of mead, well, actually, I asked for wine, but the stuff is obviously too posh to be in a little rat-hole like this, and I sat down to think. There was no one else here, the men gone back to their homes, and us the only visitors today.

First I tested my magic, and indeed it was back, not anymore the meager trickle, but like it should be - like a river coursing through my veins. The bruises on my wrists healed perfectly.

I could run of course. Gods know how easy it would be now. Ondolemar asleep, my magic back. It didn't even matter that I had no money. In such a poor hold, there were bound to be plenty of bandits to loot.

I stared reflectively into the smoldering embers of the hearth in the middle of the common room. He surely knew I could escape and still had made no precautions. Foolish, maybe, but fools did not survive the Academy.

I was the means to an end. Me particularly. That surely must've meant something concerning mother. Assassination? Did he want to be First Emissary? Did he expect me to help him in that regard? If so, then why had we come here?

Too many unanswerable questions. I smiled to myself. There was no better place to spy from, than stay here, or wherever Ondolemar was going to go next. This was so much better than the humdrum of Markarth. So many possibilities of excitement.

I had to figure out how to keep him from blocking me again. He probably wouldn't let anything happen to me, but without magic I was about as helpless as a beached whale. And that could be extremely helpless indeed. I once saw one slowly torn apart and eaten by mudcrabs, while on holiday. A horrible sight.

Well, actually, we made bets on how fast the little buggers would do it, and then marked our chosen mudcrabs and pitted them against one another. Good fun it was too.

The door banged open in a shower of sparks, making me almost choke on my mead and the bartender to jump. Ondolemar dashed out, threw a look around the room, saw me and stopped in his tracks with a little 'oh'.

I couldn't help but start laughing, as he plodded towards me, himself with a little sheepish grin. I moved over on the bench and set my half-drained mug in safety on the table. Ondolemar sat down.

"Did you think I'd run away?" I asked with an amused grin.

"Yes. And no. You always were hard to read," he answered.

"Well, if I ran, I'd have to go back to Markarth. Nothing is worse than those beds."

He appeared to think for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think you might be right. Or then again, sleeping bound head to toes would be worse. If you vanish like this again-"

"Oh, you're no fun at all." I groaned. It had been going so well. "I just couldn't sleep, so I came to get a drink. Besides, you snore."

"Not half as much as you." He smirked back at me.

"I certainly do not!" I exclaimed indignantly.

He grabbed my hand and inspected it closely, then without another word made a swing for my forehead. The bastard.

I ducked, sliding off the bench ungracefully, then scrambled to my feet, and backed to the other side of the hearth, as Ondolemar got up too. I waved to the bartender, who looked to be ready to grab an axe, "Don't worry, just a domestic disturbance." I turned back to Ondolemar and continued, "Alright, I promise not to run away, or attack you, or turn you to the guards, or tell anyone about who we are, or contact ... mother, or whatever." I finally drew a long breath, "Just don't do that. Deal?"

Ondolemar inspected his nails casually and said, "You forgot poison."

"Oh, unfair! That was just one time, and it hadn't even been meant for you!" I truly had every reason to be affronted, since we five had made a pact never to speak of this again. "But, well? Do we have a deal?"

"Very well. Now come back to sleep." When I raised my eyebrows in no uncertain way, he continued with an irritated sigh, "And when I say sleep, I mean sleep." He was just that easy to like.

On our way back to the room he threw a coin for the boy and whispered something to him, probably stopping the rumors about the very strange couple before they could start.

Sleep came more easily this time.