There were so many places to choose from.
Valenwood, Black Marsh, Elsweyr…
Each big enough to vanish into without a trace, the canopies of their forests closing over her head, the lushness of their undergrowth concealing her tracks.
She pawed through a stack of guidebooks and tried to decide. She'd open one up, read a page and then set it aside, unable to concentrate. They were all attractive in their way, but none of them were home.
She was tired and heartsick and deep in her gut, she had no desire to start fresh yet again. The thought occurred to her constantly in her nightmares: if she fled the province, would they find her again? Would they follow her wherever she went, dogging her trail until she could run no more, until some tiny mistake sentenced her to death at last?
She spent most of her days pacing about the Embassy grounds, trying to forget; both what she had lost and the weight of the decision that lay before her. The fresh air eased her anxiety somewhat and the crunch of fresh snow under her feet let her believe, if only for a moment, that she wasn't just as much a prisoner here as the people in the dungeon below.
She was treated well enough by the Altmer under Third Emissary Elenwen. She was fed, clothed, given pleasant small talk in the halls that eased the loneliness somewhat. But she never could escape the feeling that they were all looking down their noses at her and politely waiting for her to leave so they could discuss the really juicy gossip.
But most of all, she wished badly that she had a job of some sort. Something to make the hours pass by quicker and the dark thoughts that crept upon her in the shadows cease by nature of pure exhaustion.
Since she had first approached Emissary Elenwen on the Embassy's doorstep, she had not had one undisturbed night of sleep.
Her dreams were restless and filled with the glint of talons and fire. She awoke smelling smoke in the air no matter how much perfume she sprayed about the room.