We left for Riften shortly after the sun had peeked over the horizon, the clink of coins dropping into the carriage driver's hand loud in the new morning air. Meeko instantly laid his head into my lap and started snoring again, but Inigo's and my eyes met across the carriage.

"You slept well?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded. Knowledge of the secret spell curled in my mind like a sleeping sabre cat. My sleep had been blissfully deep and untroubled, and though a large part of me was frightened of the dangerous power I now held, I couldn't deny that for perhaps the first time since arriving in Skyrim I felt truly safe.

Could you really do it, though? came a whisper from the back corner of my mind. Could you actually take a life, if you had to? Could you speak three syllables, and make yourself a murderer?

I bundled the thought away; squashed it back into the recesses of my consciousness. With any luck, I would never need to find out. But at least I was no longer helpless.

I tried very hard not to think about the fact that Inigo refused to comment on my having learned the spell at all.

After an uneventful carriage ride, during which my attempts at study were constantly interrupted by my musings about Felix, we pulled up in front of the Riften gates just after lunchtime. It was a beautiful day, the sun much warmer than up north, and we whiled away the afternoon in the marketplace. I wanted to buy Minette a gift, but was torn as to what to get her.

"If I bring back my usual gift of some kind of fancy drink for her collection it might just rub salt in the wound of Felix's arrival, what with the whole business of the inn," I said to Inigo. My fingers twisted a lock of hair in agitation as I examined a rack of spices imported from Morrowind. "But if I bring her something different she might think I agree with her father's opinion that she'd be better off in a different trade and ought to just give up."

"Kirilee, you have been fretting over this for over an hour," Inigo snapped. "You are overthinking things. Just buy her something. She is only eleven; she will merely be pleased you thought of her."

I huffed, but he was right, so after another ten minutes of browsing I bought Minette a bottle of a Morrowind liquor called Flin. The Dunmer merchant assured me that it was the real thing, rather than one of the cheaper imitations more common in Skyrim, and I was reasonably sure she wouldn't have seen any before. I hoped she would like it.

The topic of gifts set me to thinking about Saturalia, which was less than a week away. I was thrilled to hear it was celebrated in Skyrim too — I had thought it a purely Breton celebration — but to my great delight the cities were already being decorated for the holiday and I could feel the festive cheer growing in the air. Inigo and Meeko I had already chosen gifts for, and I had ideas for Corpulus and Minette … but what about Felix? I barely knew him, and thought a gift might seem too … forward, perhaps; but on the other hand it would be very rude to give gifts to his whole family and not to him. The problem occupied me for the rest of the day.

"Do you think he'd like a weapon?" I said to Inigo, while we waited for Riften's legendary smith to work some nicks out of his sword.

Then later, as I was examining an Argonian jeweller's strange and exotic creations: "What about jewellery? Do you think he seems like the kind of man who'd like some ornamentation?"

"Maybe a pet?" I said, throwing sticks for Meeko to chase while we walked along the lakeshore at sunset.

"How about … I don't know, is there some kind of manual for running an inn?"

We were sitting in the Bee and Barb, eating supper before my performance for the Jarl. Inigo stared at me flatly over his pie. He had refused to indulge my wheedling questions all afternoon, and it seemed this time would be no different.

"Maybe I could ask Talen-Jei what he would have liked, when he first started training to run an inn …" I flashed the innkeeper a smile as he passed, which he only weakly returned. Apparently Maven Black-Briar had tightened the noose even further, and the pair were only barely scraping by. They'd had to pour all the coin they'd saved for their wedding into keeping the inn afloat.

"Or maybe —"

"Maybe you could give him a big kiss?" Inigo loudly interrupted. "I am sure you and he —"

"Actually, never mind." I stood up sharply from the table, my cheeks flaming. "I've got to go, or I'll be late for Laila."

I stalked from the inn, my face as scarlet as my gown, Inigo's barely-suppressed sniggers following me even once I was out of earshot.

The next morning for once I rose before Inigo was even awake. Laila had let me go quite early — the family dinner had ended quickly and unceremoniously when her two sons had nearly come to blows over pudding. It seemed that while her older son Harrald was happy to follow her lead in backing the Stormcloaks, her younger, Saerlund, was a staunch Imperialist and wasn't prepared to tolerate what he saw as his family's disloyalty to the Empire. I had filed the information quietly away for Viarmo while assuring Laila that I took no offence at my abrupt dismissal.

As a consequence, I was in bed far earlier than I'd expected, though I had lain awake for a long time tossing and turning nonetheless. This time it had not been the memory of empty black eyes behind a cowl keeping me awake, however, but that of rich, brown ones the colour of freshly-turned earth.

So it was that dawn of the new day found me padding through Riften's eddying morning fog to the warmth and comfort of the Temple of Mara. Fervently I prayed for guidance, laying my heart bare … but my Lady said nothing. I was still there, on my knees before the shrine, when Mother Balu emerged for her own morning prayers.

"You are troubled, my daughter. Can I help?" she said, touching me on the shoulder.

At that, the dam burst, and I poured out everything to her. How a man had come into my life, and in just a handful of days had turned my entire head and life topsy-turvy. That I barely knew him, but couldn't stop thinking about him. I had never felt like this before. I felt confused and wrong-footed and didn't know what to do or how to feel … and couldn't even imagine him being interested in return.

But how could I even be interested in him like this, if I barely knew anything about him? Back home all my courtships had been careful, considered … Mother and Father setting up suitable matches with their friends; chaperoned excursions; a gradual getting to know the other; a slow feeling out of compatibility and future prospects. None of which had ever come to anything. I'd never before experienced this heady, disorienting rush of emotions; this complete disruption to my life over someone with whom I had barely exchanged a few sentences.

"… And then Inigo, always teasing! It's bad enough feeling like a silly little heartsick girl without my best friend constantly harping on about it, and making me feel confused and ashamed over and over again!"

Mother Balu listened patiently to my outburst, then smiled with so much warmth and acceptance and understanding that I nearly burst into tears.

"Just relax, daughter, and be yourself," she said. "Let things take their course. The stirrings of love" — I choked at the word — "are often turbulent and fraught. But you are a beacon of Mara's holy light, and She will guide your way. Love is Mara's gift to all. Trust that She will help you find the love that is right for you."

I bowed my head. "Yes, Mother. Um, if you say so. Is that all?"

"You should also give that friend of yours a good smack."

I choked again.

I left the temple feeling no less confused, but somewhat comforted that a priestess whose purview was love and relationships seemed completely unbothered by my situation, which to me felt so turbulent and fraught. Her comments about the 'stirrings of love' were of course complete rubbish, though.

On my way out she gave me some good news, too: Klimmek and Fastred had recently come to the Temple, and were now married. Mother Balu reported that the two seemed deliriously in love, and congratulated me on a match well made.

Fastred's other former suitor, the bard Bassianus Axius, was also in Riften, and after that morning I was particularly glad that I hadn't encouraged Fastred to pursue a relationship with him. As Meeko and I were returning through the marketplace Bassianus tripped over Meeko, not watching where he was going. Meeko let out a yelp — Bassianus had stepped on his paw.

"Stupid dog! Get out of my way," he snarled.

I saw red. How dare this stupid, talentless buffoon not only not apologise to my dog whose paw he had stepped on but blame him for the whole incident?

"You odious little man," I spat. "Fastred made the right choice, and Mara will never send you love until you learn to show a little kindness and humility."

He blinked at me, taken aback. "What?"

"Oh, and by the way, all Fastred needed to hear to choose Klimmek over you was that he was more interested in her than in fish."

"What?"

"… Also your singing is awful and out of tune."

I then turned on my heel and left him with his mouth agape. Ha. I sure showed him.

Inigo was up by the time I returned to the Bee and Barb, and we spent the morning Saturalia shopping, first in Riften, then back home in Solitude; then after lunch I began transcribing three copies of a volume of my favourite pieces from High Rock — my gift to Viarmo, Master Six-Fingers and Master Ateia. Once I'd had enough transcribing, studying and practicing I suggested we visit the Skeever for the evening.

"Not because I want to see Felix," I hastily explained to Inigo, "but because I haven't been to see Lisette play in ages, and she listens to me almost every night. It's only polite."

I didn't think he was fooled.

Minette was finally back in the inn, looking a little flat, but she brightened when I gave her the Flin and reminded her of our riding lesson the next day.

"This is not to drink," I emphasised, but she was already eagerly dashing off to add it to her collection. Corpulus shook his head, but said nothing except that it was good to see us back.

"You've been missed." He winked, glancing at Felix, whose blush I could see even under his tan. My breath caught in my chest — surely not? — but Corpulus interrupted my frantic thoughts by asking whether we wanted supper.

"That depends on who is cooking," Inigo said. I stamped on his foot.

Minette brought us our tomato soup (made by Corpulus, and delicious) and enthusiastically related to me the exact positioning of her new treasure in her special cabinet. I was surprised, though glad, to see her so cheerful; but supposed that while it would be a blow to once again be relegated to second place, it must surely be nice for her to have her other big brother back. Especially after Sorex.

"How is Felix adjusting to Solitude, Minette? Does he like it here?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded casual.

She gave me a suspicious stare. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" she said, then skipped off to serve another customer.

Lisette began to play as we ate, having just finished her own supper. She gave me a smile and a wave when she saw us sitting in the corner, and launched into a tune that seemed to be a standard at the College — I'd heard almost every student perform it at least once. She played fairly well, and I had always liked her voice. It was bigger and brassier than one would have expected from a woman of her build. She sang with fire and gusto, and so much enthusiasm that the occasional wrong notes didn't really bother me.

I couldn't help sneaking glances at Felix as I listened. I only saw him look at her once, when he had to navigate past her while trying to balance three bowls of soup.

"What are you in such a good mood about?" Inigo said.

"Oh, nothing," I said, smiling to myself.

We stayed late. Most of the patrons had long headed home, or upstairs to bed, by the time Inigo yawned that he, too, needed to turn in. As he loped upstairs I took our empty bowls and goblets into the kitchen to wash. I was humming to myself while rinsing the last bowl when I heard a footfall behind me, and Felix's soft voice.

"Kirilee?"

I was so startled I dropped the bowl onto the floor, where it smashed into a hundred shards of pottery. We both began apologising over the top of one another, each of us becoming redder and redder with embarrassment, until I finally had the presence of mind to hurriedly cast a cantrip to mend the broken bowl. At that both of us fell silent, our faces crimson, and looking anywhere but at each other. I pushed the bowl into his hands and all but ran out of the room, Recalling home as soon as I was out of sight.

My face was still burning as I tucked myself into bed half an hour later.

Saturalia gifts

- Mother: bracelet from Kerah X

- Father: folio of landscape paintings X

- Meeko: ball + new basket + dog treats

- Inigo: I'M NOT TELLING YOU INIGO, PUT THE JOURNAL DOWN

- Corpulus: set of Dwemer crockery X

- Minette: riding outfit X

- Felix: ?

- Viarmo/M. Six-Fingers/M. Ateia: folio

- Danica: snowberry bush cutting X

- Taarie + Endarie: letter of introduction to Arielle at Daggerfall Designs X

- Lisette: Morrowind teas, new lute strings

- Ataf: Men Are From Masser, Women Are From Secunda

- Illdi: flute necklace X

Morndas morning I went to the College to deliver my notes on Riften to Viarmo, but he was nowhere to be found, and the College as a whole was empty and silent as I had never seen it before. I wandered around the halls, feeling a little lost, until I ran into Bendt, the College cook.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"The College is closed til the new year, for the Saturalia-New Life Festival period. Din't you know?"

I hadn't, but was certainly glad of the unexpected holiday. I tucked my sheet of notes into a copy of A Game at Dinner which I left on Viarmo's desk, accompanied by a note saying that I hoped he enjoyed the story I had picked up as a gift for his niece, and that I had represented the College well in Riften. I then sought out Inigo to tell him the good news.

We spent the morning shopping again, and after a few frantic hours I had gifts ready for almost everyone. Inigo said he had a very special gift for me, but was as tight-lipped about it as I was about his. I still didn't know what I could give to Felix.

It began snowing around lunchtime, and we headed home with our shopping for a warm Kirilee-cooked meal. I made tomato soup too, trying to replicate Corpulus', but I still couldn't figure out how he made his taste so good.

"This is lovely. Do not fret," Inigo said lazily.

I blew a stray strand of hair out of my face. "But it's not right. It's not how Corpulus' is!"

"Perhaps you could ask for his recipe? He cares for you a great deal, I am sure he would not object."

"I already have. He said it's a family secret, and so he can't tell me … yet."

Inigo snorted into his soup.

The snow was so thick that I regretfully postponed Minette's riding lesson, and instead spent the whole afternoon working on my transcriptions for my teachers. It took so long that my hand was beginning to cramp, but by the time I needed to head to the Skeever they were finally ready.

"I suppose I'll have to hope to run into them at the festival," I said to Inigo, stacking the folios into a neat pile. "What with the College closed. I don't know where any of them live. And it would probably be a bit strange just to turn up on their doorsteps with a gift, anyway."

"I do not know, that might be rather amusing. I, for one, am very curious what manner of house Mister Viarmo lives in."

"You know, now that you mention it, so am I." I crossed off a line on my list. "That just leaves … Felix."

"You realise that you would probably have an easier time choosing a gift for him if you actually talked to him, yes?"

I met Inigo's eyes, agonised. "I … I know you're right. But I just get so nervous around him … I don't understand it! I never usually have trouble talking to people. Not like this."

Inigo shook his head, and seemed to be working hard not to laugh. He turned away and rummaged in the kitchen cupboard for a moment, re-emerging with a bottle of brandy and a small tumbler. He filled it to the brim, then pointed. "Drink."

"Are you … why?"

"Liquid confidence, my friend. It will help. Trust me. Drink."

I sighed, and drank. My eyes watered a little, but I managed not to cough.

"Divines, I must really be desperate, if I'm taking relationship advice from you," I muttered.

Inigo just gave me a sunny smile, and passed me my lute case. "Mister Felix is waiting," he said.

Perhaps fifteen minutes later I dropped into a seat next to Inigo and immediately reached for the nearest goblet of wine. I drained it in one long pull.

"I'm never taking your advice again," I moaned, burying my face in my hands. "I made such a fool of myself. He must think I'm a complete idiot."

"Do not be so melodramatic. You had your conversation, yes?"

"Inigo, it was about six sentences."

Inigo stifled a laugh. "Yes, well, it was a valiant effort nonetheless. And? What have you learned about Mister Felix? Do you know what to give him as a gift yet?"

"Um. Well, his apprenticeship was with a blacksmith."

"Mmhmm …"

"And he thinks Solitude is nice, but cold."

"Yes?"

"And … and his eyes get these little creases at the edge when he smiles." I felt myself flush bright and hot; just as I had while talking to Felix, right before I had veritably fled.

This time Inigo did burst out laughing. "Very good indeed, my friend. It is clear all your courtly training in the highest courtly courts of High Rock has not gone to waste. Perhaps if you practice your courtly ways very studiously, tomorrow you will get through seven sentences?"

I very nearly took Mother Balu's advice to slap him then and there.

By the evening of the twenty-fourth I was really beginning to panic. Saturalia was technically only a few hours away, and I still didn't have a gift for Felix. I had spent the whole day frantically trawling the city — I was even desperate enough to ask Taarie and Endarie for help — but remained at a total loss. I had no idea what I would do, come gift-giving time; although if the previous few days were any indication, probably just turn so red that I burst into flames from the heat. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with it, or him, or my stupid messy feelings any more.

We had stammered our way through a few more stilted conversations, made all the worse by Inigo's cheerful commentary afterwards. I couldn't blame Felix for being awkward with me; it must have been difficult to act naturally around a girl who couldn't make it through a single sentence without getting tongue-tied or blushing bright red. What with my red hair on top of it he probably thought of me as the tomato bard. I was amazed at his professionalism in not handing me off to Minette to deal with. Also thoroughly embarrassed. Why was it that I could twist the likes of Hemming Black-Briar around my fingers with ease, and yet couldn't behave like a normal human person for the duration of one conversation around Felix?

I couldn't make myself sing in his presence, either. I'd been hoping he wouldn't notice, but of course had no such luck. While I was ordering supper for Inigo and I, he suddenly blurted out, "So, um, I was wondering … why haven't you sung at all recently? Da said you sing like a lark, and ah — I'd very much like to hear …"

His voice trailed off and he turned crimson, clearly embarrassed at having to remind me of my professional duties.

My own blush rivalled his, and I muttered something about having a sore throat, but the truth of it was that I felt at my most … exposed when I sang; at my most naked and vulnerable. Normally it didn't bother me, after years of training and practice, but singing with Felix's intense stare on me would have felt like being unclothed in front of him.

"Oh. Um. Well, I hope it recovers soon," he said haltingly, then hurried back behind the bar and buried himself in tidying away a stack of dirty tankards. I offered a prayer to Mara to let me melt into the ground.

Feelings aside, however, I couldn't help but be excited for the morrow. Saturalia was my favourite time of year, and every year, no matter how old I was, I felt like a giddy child again. I loved the decorations, I loved the atmosphere; I loved the gifts, the food, the laughter and merriment. This year I was a little sad not to be celebrating with my family, but was also looking forward to Saturalia with my new family: Inigo and Meeko, and the Viniuses. Over the months Corpulus had taken me under his wing as though I was his own flesh and blood, and Minette was like the younger sibling I never had. As for Felix … well.

It was only a shame Sorex could not be with us, too.

"Happy Saturalia!" Inigo yelled, bursting through my door early in the morning. "Where is my gift?"

"Happy Saturalia to you too," I said. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

I pointed to an enormous wrapped present on the floor. Inigo crowed with glee and threw himself at it, claws bared. The air was soon filled with scraps of paper flurrying like snow, Meeko jumping and snapping happily at them.

Within seconds Inigo had thoroughly demolished my careful wrapping job, and simply stared at the gigantic mound of sweetrolls he had exposed.

"Kirilee! This is …"

"Happy Saturalia," I said again, laughing.

I had made sure to rise at the crack of dawn to dash over to the bakery. They weren't typically open on the holiday, but I had paid an obscene amount of gold for a special order of as many sweetrolls as they could manage to bake — my gift for Inigo. I'd also commissioned by mail from the jeweller Kerah in Markarth a beautiful silver ring, set with the finest ruby I could afford, then enchanted by Solitude's court wizard with a layer of magical protection.

"Like your gifts?" I grinned.

He was speechless — a first — then immediately stuffed two sweetrolls into his mouth at once.

"To show my very great appreciation," he managed to say, after his third attempt. He then wiped his hands, and reached over to hand me a paper-wrapped rectangular parcel he'd dropped on the bed on his way in.

I ripped off the paper, and it was my turn to be speechless. He'd given me a wonderfully thoughtful gift in return: a collection of songs and compositions from Elsweyr.

"How did you get this?" I asked, flipping through the pages with wide eyes. It was incredibly rare to find written records of Khajiiti music at all, let alone outside of Elsweyr.

"A cat never reveals his secrets," Inigo said in a mock-mysterious voice. "Happy Saturalia, my friend. May we share many more." He drew me into a hug, both of us beaming and slightly teary.

I briefly left Inigo to supervise Meeko with his own gift of new toys, while I Recalled to Whiterun to give Danica her Saturalia present. I had taken a cutting from my favourite snowberry bush some weeks ago, and had been growing it as well as I could using both my meagre gardening skills and the now-slightly-less-meagre Restoration skills she had taught me. I couldn't find her at the temple — I supposed she was with her family — but left the little plant along with a note and Recalled home, where I found Meeko gleefully beheading his new toy mammoth.

"I think he likes it," Inigo said through a mouthful of sweetroll.

After Inigo had demolished as many sweetrolls as he could stomach, we had a wonderfully enjoyable morning traipsing around the city delivering the rest of our gifts. It was complicated a little by the fact that many of the people we were trying to find were doing the same, leading to a lot of wandering back and forth through the increasingly slushy snow. The Saturalia cheer was thick in the air, however, and nobody seemed to mind the trouble it took to find their gifts' recipients. Indeed, the chance encounters in the streets and loud cries of 'Happy Saturalia!' on every corner just added to the jubilant holiday atmosphere.

Eventually we managed to deliver all our gifts, except for the Viniuses', whom we were meeting for Saturalia lunch. We headed back to the Skeever, pink-cheeked and full to the brim with a warm, bubbly happiness.

The Skeever itself looked like it had been hit by a veritable hurricane of paper decorations. I thought I recognised Minette's handiwork, and she stepped beside me as I admired what I thought was possibly meant to be a paper representation of myself perched on top of one of the ornamental fir trees.

"I've been making them for over a whole month. In secret. Only Papa knew," she said.

"They're amazing, Minette," I said. "I particularly like the string of little Inigos." She beamed from ear to ear.

There were only the five of us, but the inn didn't have the usual empty feel I associated with late nights and closing time — rather, we filled the whole building with our joy and laughter and exuberance. Corpulus had put together a real feast, and the three tables we had pushed together groaned under mountains of food and drink: there were platters of every kind of vegetable, including my favourite honey-glazed carrots; roast legs of venison and beef; bottles of mead and alto and Evette San's spiced wine; and in pride of place an enormous whole ocean trout, its rainbow scales glittering in the light of two dozen candles.

Minette and Felix had contributed too: Minette had baked an apple pie with a beautifully ornamental lattice, and Felix had made some sort of fancy little pastry triangles filled with expensive imported chocolate. Inigo cast them an apprehensive glance.

"Don't worry," Felix said with a crooked smile, which made my heart twist with its similarity to Sorex's. "Ma taught me how to make them. I've been baking them every Saturalia since I was a boy."

The festive Saturalia atmosphere seemed to accomplish what Inigo's brandy had not, and I finally felt more relaxed and … myself around Felix than I ever had before. It was easy to laugh and joke with the whole family, though any time our eyes accidentally met across the table one — or more often, both — of us would blush and look away.

Eventually Minette had had enough. I had just reddened for what I was sure must have been at least the tenth time when she burst out, "Would you two stop it?"

"Stop what?" Felix said.

She stamped her small foot on the ground so aggressively the candles wobbled. "When are you finally going to kiss already? We're all so bored of your stupid game, can you please just get it over with?"

I choked on my mouthful of wine, and Felix turned so red I wouldn't have been surprised to see steam spouting from his ears.

Once we had eaten so much that we were full to bursting we moved to the parlour to exchange gifts. Felix and I were once again studiously not looking at each other, Minette's outburst having shattered the very delicate thread of normalcy we had constructed over lunch. All embarrassment fled from my mind, however, when Minette presented me with my gift from the family, beaming from ear to ear.

It was a gown. Perhaps the most beautiful gown I had ever seen; a miracle of red and green silks and the finest Evermore lace, constructed in an elaborate, structured style I had only seen a handful of times at the King's court in Daggerfall. I couldn't even begin to imagine how much it must have cost.

"It's from all of us, and Miss Taarie and Miss Endarie," Minette proudly announced. "I helped them with the design! Isn't it pretty, Kirilee? I picked red cos it's your favourite, and green cos it's mine. D'you like it?"

I could only gape like a fish.

"That means, she likes it very much," Inigo said, as I bundled Minette into a long, tight hug.

My gifts felt extraordinarily inadequate in comparison, but nevertheless both Minette and Corpulus seemed to love the items I had selected for them.

"My own riding clothes?" Minette squealed. "They're perfect! Talara's going to be so impressed when she sees me! And Blaise! But why've the breeches got a padded bum? Oh — sorry, Papa. Backside."

"It's so you don't get quite so sore when you're riding," I said, over Corpulus' chuckles. "They feel a bit silly at first, but I promise you'll be glad of it later."

"Thanks, Kirilee — and wow, Inigo! A sword? A real sword?" Her eyes shone as she examined the polished wooden blade from hilt to tip. "Can you teach me how to use it? Please?"

"Of course," Inigo said, shooting Corpulus a wink, who was now wearing a rather long-suffering expression.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! Soon I'll be a real warrior princess, just like Lyris Titanborn! With my horse and sword … sorry Kirilee, I mean, your horse." She cocked her head. "But what about Felix? Where's his present?"

"I'll, um, give it to him in private," I muttered, blushing.

Corpulus sniggered. Inigo wolf-whistled. Felix looked stricken, and I worried that I'd made a terrible mistake.

I'd had the idea the night before, while lying in bed trying to sleep and agonising over my humiliating behaviour. It had set me to thinking about other people I had witnessed acting like fools over one another … and I had suddenly been struck by a memory, of a cantankerous old mer, lovesick and lost.

Calcelmo had expressed his feelings with art. And it had worked. Perhaps I could try the same? Felix seemed to like music — perhaps I could gift him a song. I was an atrocious composer, but I'd thought I could perhaps rework the lyrics of my favourite song for him. Not Nightingale's Eyes, but … Earthen-Dark Brown Eyes. I couldn't tell him how I felt, but perhaps I could … sing it. I had thrown myself out of bed, and worked feverishly into the small hours of the morning.

Now, however, it seemed like the stupidest idea I'd ever had in my whole life. I buried my face in my wine and we spoke of it no more.

In the late afternoon we emerged from the Skeever to join the public festivities outside. My heart lifted again, and for a few hours I thought of nothing but how much I loved Saturalia. Pulling out my lute I played a few tunes, but there were bards aplenty, so soon opted instead to join in the public dances. I lost myself in the whirl of colourful feastday skirts and velvet jackets; flushed, laughing faces and light steps on cobblestones.

After a few partners I found myself face to face with Felix.

"May I have this dance?" he said softly. Not daring to open my mouth, I simply nodded, and returned his uncertain smile.

He took my left hand in his right, then placed his own left hand on my waist; and my heart, which was already racing from the exertion of dancing, seemed to pound twice as hard. His hand was rough and calloused, but gentle and warm, and enclosed mine entirely. I looked up into his face and saw mirrored there the same excitement and terror I felt. We danced. For once, we did not look away.

After some time — it may have been three dances, or ten, or thirty — we finally stopped, too exhausted to continue. He didn't let my hand drop, however, and we walked, hand in hand, away from the festivities. I felt full to bursting with emotion: exhilaration and fear and joy all bundled into one. I couldn't speak. Neither did he.

I found myself leading him up to my rooftop garden, where I finally found my voice. "Sit. Please. So I can … give you your gift."

He obediently sat down in one of my garden chairs, and watched as I unpacked my lute. My fingers fumbled with the clasps. I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life.

I settled my lute across my chest, took a deep breath, and began to play. My fingers were a little shaky through the introduction, but soon firmed as they moved over the familiar positions. I shut my eyes, and I sang.

After the last chord had rung through the still winter air I kept my eyes closed a moment longer, anxious about Felix's reaction. I opened them to see that he was gazing at me fiercely.

"That's the best gift anyone's ever given me," he said.

I hoped the darkness concealed my flush. "Um. Well. I didn't actually write it, you know, just rearranged the words a bit, and um, I know it's not all that —"

I gasped, my feeble words interrupted by an aurora suddenly bursting to life above us. It was perhaps the brightest and most vibrant one I'd seen since coming to Skyrim. A dazzling curtain of blues and greens, it rippled across the inky sky as though painted there by the Gods themselves.

All embarrassment forgotten, I slid from my chair, gently placed down my lute, and walked to the edge of the parapet to drink in the sight. I heard a soft footstep behind me, then felt Felix's fingers interlacing with my own. I gestured up with my free hand at the sky. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" I breathed in awe.

Warm, gentle fingers lifted my chin. I gazed into eyes which danced with the aurora, transformed from their usual warm brown to a dazzling, thrilling blue. My stomach erupted with butterflies, and I felt as though I could hardly breathe.

"Yes," Felix said simply. Then his lips met mine, and nothing else existed.

A/N: I wanted to let you all know that as of yesterday, this fic is complete. While there is some editing still to do, the entire story is now written, clocking in at 45 chapters and roughly 240k words. (A hefty chonker, I know!)

I'd also like to take the opportunity to say thank you, so much, to everyone who is still reading and enjoying this fic. It honestly means more to me than I can say that there are people who like Kirilee's story enough to still be sticking with it and following along, 27 chapters deep. Please know that though the most interaction I'll ever have with most of you is seeing my hit count tick up, I appreciate and value every one of you very very highly. Thank you. 3