I had a sense of floating, of not quite inhabiting my body. I felt hands on my body, gently rubbing me down with warm washcloths, then padding me dry again. I heard indistinct voices: concerned, angry, resolute. I couldn't follow the conversation, but I'm sure I heard more than once the word blasphemy. 

 

At length, my senses started to come back to me. I opened my eyes, then immediately squeezed them shut against the light. More cautiously, I opened them slowly and found myself lying on soft furs stretched over a warm stone slab. One of the neophytes was hovering over me, apparently keeping vigil, and she started at my rousing.

 

"Sister?" she asked, "are you awake?"

 

I groaned, my lips feeling gummy and my tongue feeling thick, "water," I managed to croak.

 

Promptly, she held a waterskin to my lips, and I drank greedily. The cool water eased my thirst, and my throbbing headache gradually subsided. As it did, my hearing grew sharper and I picked up Edippa's angry voice.

 

"...the poor, and instead she was abducted, violated, and drugged. You need to take responsibility for this. And you, sellsword! How did this happen? You were supposed to keep her safe!"

 

Jenassa's voice growled, "I can offer no excuse. Whoever did this must have already had a plan. They distracted me just long enough to separate-"

 

"I didn't ask for you excuses."

 

Steely, Jenassa shot back, "and as I said, I am not offering one. Only an explanation."

 

"Enough, both of you," Senna said, slightly raising her voice, "no one could have anticipated this... abomination. We will punish the infidels who did this. But for now, we need to care for your daughter. She is waking." 

 

 

By then I'd managed to sit up, but my head started to swim before I could get my feet under me.

 

"Careful, daughter, not so fast," Edippa said as she rushed to my side.

 

"Ugh, what happened?" I managed.

 

Senna answered coldly, "it seems the inhabitants of the Warrens were not as welcoming of Dibella's love as I had believed. You were cruelly used, and then drugged. I'm very impressed you were able to escape on your own."

 

"Not all of them..." I started before my scratchy throat got the better of me. I took another pull on the water skin before I tried again. "Not all of them, priestess. It was an Argonian - he seemed to have a grudge against the Mother."

 

Senna frowned at that. "Is that so? Well, I imagine the Jarl will be very interested to hear about that. Can you remember anything about the others who assaulted you?"

 

I tried my best to relate my memories of what had happened, though I found the details to be fuzzy. Edippa held my hand, whispering encouragement as I related what had happened. Then I paused, as a gurgle in my stomach awakened a powerful feeling of pressure in my abdomen. 

 

"Chamber pot..." I mumbled.

 

The neophyte who had been caring for me before returned, ready to accommodate my request. As I relieved myself, I felt the fog in my mind lessening. Barely audible, I heard Edippa whisper to the neophyte, "save that" as she departed.

 

"Do you feel better?" Edippa then asked me, "the drug must be working its way out of your system."

 

I nodded slowly, still feeling too uncertain on my feet to stand. When it became clear that I couldn't match her height for height, Senna squatted down in front of me and put her hand on my wrist.

 

"I'm so sorry for what happened, Kirtia. You did your duty bravely and... I don't know if you realize it but you brought back your satchel. By some miracle, none of the offerings were ruined in your abduction or in your fall into the river. You did very well, and I'm proud of you. I hope this experience hasn't soured you on our sisterhood."

 

I... I just didn't know. Of course, since you're listening to me tell you this story, you can already guess the decision I made, but at that time I was so confused. Not just about what I really wanted, but about the truth of the voice I had heard, and even who was to blame. There was an ugly part of my mind loudly telling me that I was suffering like this because of something I had done. I'd been too shameless, walking amongst the poor as I did. I'd been too blind or stupid to retreat after the Argonian warned me off. I'd been too thoughtless to realize I'd been separated from Jenassa. 

 

"I imagine you're wondering if this is your fault," Senna said, insightfully. I just dumbly nodded.

 

"That's the curse of being an intelligent, capable woman. The world tells you to be ashamed of what you are, and you hear it so many times that it worms its way into your heart. But the reality is, none of this is your fault. The only ones to blame are those cold hearted creatures who fell upon you - and for that they'll be held accountable. I'm told the guards are already sweeping through the Warrens, in search of the infidels who did this."

 

"Thank you, priestess," I said, but Senna cut me off.

 

"Address me as Sister, or as Senna. You are part of the temple now, and you are my sister."

 

"Yes... sister. I understand. But I'm not sure I know the answer to your question yet. I... you know, I felt happiness and... I don't know how to put it. I felt... light on my feet, like I was floating an inch off the ground, when I was talking to those people in the Warrens. They were rough and common, unrefined, they had almost nothing, and they did their worship in a way that I think I would have found shocking before I started travelling with Edippa. But they were so sincere, and I think they truly love our Lady. I remember... one of them made such a show of crudely enjoying my touch, but she whispered to me like a whole other person. Her meanness was just a facade, and underneath there was warmth and love."

 

"And how does that make you feel?"

 

"I'm not sure," I said honestly. "In the moment I felt good, like I was making their lives better. But when I heard the Argonian recount his grievances, I doubted that. I feel as if I need to learn more, understand more, before I can really say how I feel."

 

Senna smiled softly, "that's a wiser answer than many neophytes would give. The truth it, we live in a complicated world where even the warmest sunlight can still bathe us in shadows. I think last night, you saw both of those."

 

Following an awkward pause, Edippa interjected, "daughter, you must be famished. What do you say we go down to the inn for some breakfast?"

 

That sounded like an excellent idea. Gesturing towards the lockers I said, "yes, please. As soon as you mentioned it, my stomach started growling. Let me just get dressed and we can go."

 

Edippa tilted her head a little. "Are you sure that's neccessary, daughter?"

 

Senna frowned at that. "Sister Edippa, after her ordeal last night, surely she can take a break in her training."

 

"Trust a mother's insight, Sister Senna. I know this one well, and I think the best thing for her is to press on through adversity."

 

I wasn't sure how much I liked that idea. There was a small but very loud part of me insisting that I crawl into a hole and hide... forever. But I would have been lying if I denied that another part of me found the idea exciting. I glanced to Senna and she held both of her palms up.

 

"The choice is yours, sister. Your mother is correct though that if you have the courage to confront your fears, your progress along the Lady's path will be faster."

 

I thought on that for a time until another rumble in my tummy brought be back to the present. 

 

"I'll trust you, mother. Let's go and eat," I said, hesitantly taking one step towards the temple entrance and then making subsequent footfalls with growing confidence.

 

"Wait," Senna said, bringing me to a stop. "You did well to make this choice, but I think you've earned the right at least to walk in more comfort. Take these," she said, offering a pair of fashionable looking shoes.

 

I accepted them, examining the straps and trying to imaging exactly how I'd wear them.

 

Edippa let out a little laugh, "daughter, are you telling me you've never worn heels?"

 

I shook my head. "In Northpoint, there wasn't much need for anything other than warm boots."

 

"Well, then, let's correct that oversight. Here," she said as she knelt by my feet, "let me show you how to put them on."

 

When Edippa finished, I took a few experimental steps, feeling like I was considerably taller but also a little less stable. Thus equipped, Edippa and I, with Jenassa not far behind, headed out into the morning light. 

 

 

The rising sun cast a gentle warm glow on me, warming my whole body in an unfamiliar but not unpleasant way. I still found myself instinctively covering my breasts and pubis, but I tried to adopt a less guarded stance as we proceeded. The fact that Edippa was now dressed in a travelling priestess's vestments, with one breast hanging loosely over her tunic, shrouded only by the most diaphanous silk, did a little to chip away at my discomfort, but not very much.

 

"What are your thoughts about body paint, daughter?" Edippa asked abruptly.

 

"I..." the non-sequitor caught me off guard, and I found it a little challenging to muster an answer while also balancing in the high heels and also trying to maintain a relaxed posture in the face of my still unfamiliar exposure. I felt as if I was breaking out of one comfort spot after another, and it was a little disorienting.

 

Eventually I was able to form the words to answer. "I... I've never really thought much on it. It looks good on you, though I'm not sure how I feel about the color."

 

"Oh?" she asked as we turned a bend. If we'd kept going on our current path, we'd be back in Riverside, but Edippa led me through a left turn and under an arch. When we emerged on the other side, I could see Dryside stretching out beneath us. "Would you prefer something that matches your hair? Or maybe a bold color like blue or red?"

 

"Yorcyn, back in Whiterun, had glowing golden paint on her body. Do you think something like that's possible here?"

 

"If it is," Edippa said, "I think we'd need the help of an alchemist. I know where one's shop is here in Markarth. What do you say we visit her after breakfast?"

 

"I'd like that, mother," I said, imagining how I might look with glowing runes decorating my body. 

 

Edippa laughed, "I think I know what you're imagining. We can probably do that. But let's eat first. Can't have you squirming with hunger pangs while you get painted. By the way," she began.

 

"What?"

 

"Once you get some hot food in you, you should think about whether you want to ask the other patrons for donations to the temple."

 

"I... don't... know if I'm ready for that."

 

"Then forget I said it. The choice is yours, daughter. But when you're prepared you should resume your training. You have so much potential... so much power waiting to be tapped."

 

As we descended the last set of stairs before the market square, I saw a naked woman bound in irons at ankle and throat, sitting on the cobblestones. Looking down to her, I asked, "what are you doing there? Are you all right?"

 

She looked back up at me, anger momentarily flashing in her one good eye before she calmed her expression and said, with false cheer, "Please mistress, may I shine your shoes? Only one Septim?"

 

 

"A Forsworn prisoner," Edippa whispered, "now a slave to the Silver-Bloods."

 

"Yes, of course," I answered the wretched woman, "here, take two Septims."

 

Edippa nodded, seemingly approving of my charity, as the woman set to work. Kneeling down on her hands and knees - I realized her ankle chain gave her only the smallest play with her feet, to my surprise rather than producing a rag or other cleaning tool, she began to lick around the soles of my shoes with her tongue.

 

"Please mistress," she said, slipping into a monotone that revealed she was reciting a long memorized script, "raise your foot so I may clean the rest." Surprised, I did as she said without fully appreciating what she meant, and she immediately began cleaning the filth and grit from the bottom of my shoes with long strokes of her tongue. 

 

"Oh, thank you mistress," she said with almost convincing false gratitude. "for ten septims more, I will also clean your toes. It will give me so much pleasure."

 

I was beginning to feel very ill at ease with this interaction. I tossed a silver septim her way, twice what she'd asked, but held up a hand to stop her. "No need, you have done such a good job already."

 

The slave prostrated herself, pressing her forehead against the cobblestones. "Mistress is too kind. Thank you, thank you very much. Please use me however you want, whenever you want."

 

I waited until we were on the other side of the market square before I turned to Edippa. "Mother, this place troubles me. What I saw in Riverside yesterday, then what the Argonian said about the Jarl's cruelty, and now this woman, degraded like this? It doesn't seem right."

 

Edippa gave me a little hug. At first I thought she meant to comfort me, but as we drew close she whispered to me, "not here, where the guards may eavesdrop. Remind me later, and I'll tell you more about this place and its troubles."

 

"Very well, mother, but I'll hold you to that," I said. 

 

"Hold up," a male voice said, "I need to check your licenses."

 

Edippa turned even before I did, staring hard at the man seated by the tool station. "Can't you see we're on temple business? Why are you bothering this neophyte?"

 

The man, a Breton, narrowed his eyes in obvious displeasure. "Surely you aren't trying to get me to stop from performing my official duties. Hand me your licenses now." 

 

I silently counted my blessings for keeping the licenses in my offering satchel, and handed them over. As I did, I noticed the note that man had handed me the night before, which I'd forgotten about in all the confusion. I resolved to read it over breakfast.

 

The toll collector took his time reading my licenses, a fact that struck me as ridiculous since I was literally naked. Nothing I needed a license for could have been in my possession, and there was no way he couldn't miss that my magical potential was collared.

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is this?" he asked. I think my heart actually skipped a beat as his tone of intense displeasure. Before I could react, he reached down and roughly pulled at my pubic hair. He held up his leather-gloved hand opening his fingers to reveal a scattering of curly blonde hairs. 

 

"This is what I'm talking about." he said.

 

Edippa's outrage seemed to have reached a new level. "Last I checked, she doesn't need a license for her body."

 

"No, you're right, no license required. But there's a new toll for girls who can't groom themselves the way I- that is, the way the law requires."

 

"This is the most transparent horse manure I've even had the displeasure of setting my eyes on," Edippa said. 

 

"Maybe, maybe not. But I'll tell you this: she's not leaving this town without paying the toll... or tidying up her nasty pussy to my satis-- that is, to official regulations."

 

"Come on," Edippa said to me, loud enough that there was no question the toll man could hear her, "we'll make sure the Jarl hears of this."

 

"Oh," he called after us, "you don't have to do anything I say. Just be ready to pay the extra toll before anyone opens the gate for you."

 

We made haste then to enter the inn. Like so many of the buildings here in Markarth, it was built inside the shell of a dwarven ruin, still warmed after all the long years by hidden pipes and vents. A large hearth cast golden light over the inner room as an unhappy looking man beckoned us within.

 

"Welcome to the Silver-Blood Inn," he said, "I'll let you figure out for yourself who owns it."

 

Less gruff was the pretty young woman who approached me, barmaid in tow, as Edippa and I found seats by the fire. 

 

 

"Can I help you?" she asked.

 

After my experience in the market square, it was such a relief to hear a friendly voice. "Gods, yes," I said, "it's been a rough... well, a rough week. And I'm starving."

 

"Well," the wench said with a thin but friendly smile, "let's sate that appetite of yours, shall we? What's your taste? Fish? Fowl? Or maybe some red meat to warm your cheeks?"

 

I thought on that for a moment, but I realized I knew nothing of the local specialties. "Any recommendations?" I asked.

 

That seemed to please the young woman. "The cook just finished preparing some very nice venison. How about a nice thin steak, well seasoned, with some vegetables, bacon, and a custard apple for your sweet tooth? Maybe with some nice white wine to wash it down - or, no, you said it had been a rough week. Coffee maybe?"

 

"I haven't had bacon in ages," I confessed, "that sounds very good. But let's go with the wine instead of the coffee. I think I need more to take the edge off than to sharpen my senses at the moment."

 

She nodded respectfully, "very good, and just as well. Here," she reached over to the serving girl's platter and handed me a goblet. "You get started on the wine now, and I'll be back with your breakfast in a few minutes. The same for you, reverend priestess?" she added, looking to Edippa. 

 

"I'll skip the apple, but otherwise yes please." 

 

Receiving her own goblet of wine, Edippa took a long sip as she stretched out in front of the fire. Enjoying the mild, fruity drink myself, I tried to pick out the flavor - there was something more to it than just grape. Apple, maybe? Though more like a cider than an apple mead. Either way, it was good. The warmth spread from my stomach and I found myself joining Edippa in basking in the firelight. Belatedly, I realized that I adopted a rather open pose that had drawn the eye of the man drinking beside me. 

 

 

I almost instinctively covered myself, but at some effort I stayed relaxed, turning my head to face him. 

 

"I hope I'm not being too distracting," I said, "I bring the gift of beauty from the Temple of Dibella. Would you like to make a contribution?"

 

"Aye," he said, "it's been too long since I made a proper offering. Now come here, and let me see the Lady's beauty up close."

 

The man rose, leading me behind the bar. I could hear him unstrapping his armor, and then rough hands gripped my breasts from behind. 

 

"Yes, let's see that beauty indeed, and give my shield-brother a taste of what he's missing by skipping his prayers."

 

I realized that the man seated on the other side of the bar was similarly garbed in armor and seemed to be studiously ignoring the display unfolding in front of him. 

 

"Enough, Vorstag," the man grumbled, moving to stand from his stool, "I already told you I've no interest in whoring."

 

 

"Ah, fine, never mind that milk drinker," Vorstag muttered. "Now let me warm myself properly." As he said this, I felt his erect cock slide back and forth between my cheeks. Continuing to massage my breasts with strong hands, I felt his penis probe at me from behind. Finding me slick and ready, he slid into me once, then twice, each time giving my breasts and extra squeeze as he reached the end of his stroke. Then, withdrawing, I felt his now well-lubricated head press against my puckered anus. I considered trying to guide him back to my vagina, but I thought about my fantasy the previous morning and relaxed my passage enough for him to enter. With a groan of pleasure, his cock pressed deep into me before picking up a regular rhythm of slow but forceful thrusts, each ending with a little extra push that sent his hips slapping against my cheeks.

 

"Is this how you prefer it, Agnar? Come back and watch, her rear is slick and twitching, just like those stable boys you like," he called out to his compatriot. The man waved a dismissive hand from further down the bar before returning to his meal.

 

Agnar might have had no intertest in seeing a woman being pleasured, but from the clapping I heard behind me he might have been lonely in that opinion. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the rest of the patrons at the bar watching with great interest as the bartender and his wife applauded at the spectacle.

 

 

More than a few calls of "Dibella bless us!" and "Hail Queen Dibella" same forth from the onlookers as Vorstag drove deeper and deeper into me. I actually felt a little cramped as he pushed in again and again, pressing me against the bar, then pulling me back up in a repeating cycle. An onlooker might have taken it for an uncomfortable position, but Vorstag was clearly a man who had a way with his hands and... other extremities. He had a gentle strength that made every squeeze and every thrust like a relaxing massage. 

 

It was odd, though, while his hands felt so good on my body, like his lovemaking was unwinding tensed muscles I hadn't been aware of before, I didn't feel my ardor growing. I kept coming back to that same thought: this was like a wonderful massage, but not the font of pleasure that I'd expected. The same didn't seem to be true for Vorstag; I could feel his hot breath come faster and faster as he gradually increased the tempo of his thrusts. 

 

Leaning forward, he whispered, "should I go deeper?" He squeezed my breasts then, as if to emphasize his question. 

 

I nodded, gasping, "yes," and I felt his right hand release me. Reaching down, he lifted up my leg, leaving me to balance more on the bar than on my remaining foot, and plunged even deeper than before. I gasped, feeling almost like my belly was stretching a little from his invasion. Each stroke came faster and harder now, until I could feel his sack swinging forward to slap against my inner lips. Once, twice, thrice more and then I felt him tense as hot seed gushed into my back passage.

 

 

Even after his spurts slowed and stopped, he continued his thrusts, though now they grew slower and more gentle, until at last he pulled out entirely. To my embarassment, I felt something slip before I could clench myself closed - the fact that he was still holding my leg high in the air didn't make it any easier.

 

Behind me, I heard the barkeeper shout, "Fat Ass! Get over here and clean up!"

 

Vorstag gently let me down, giving no chance for me to slip or bang into the bar, as a Dunmer woman, naked except for a steel collar, first cleaned the escaped night soil off the floor and then proceeded to clean Vorstag's gradually shrinking member.

 

"Oh," I said, "that wasn't what I was expecting." 

 

Vorstag smiled, "I always give my very best to the Lady's messengers." Then he leaned close, whispering, "but I didn't feel you reach your own climax. Did it hurt, or did I do something wrong?"

 

I blushed at that, turning to face him. "No," I said, explaining, "last night was... difficult. I think maybe I'm just not... urg," I felt something shift in my belly in a very uncomfortable way. 

 

Looking down at the slave who was still cleaning the excrement from his penis, Vorstag laughed, "and it seems you were a little filled up. Poor thing, I hope I didn't make you cramp up. But I know someone who'll help you and I imagine generously donate afterwards."

 

Waving to a man in city guard uniform he beckoned, "Lundvar, I think this fine lady needs your help. Would you make a little donation to the temple if she let you ease her out of a fulsome situation?"

 

It seemed to take the guard a moment to understand, then he visibly perked up. "Why of course, Vorstag. Bring her over this way."

 

Still not fully understanding what was going on, the two men led me to a side room off the main chamber. 

 

"You see," Vorstag said, "Lundvar has... very particular tastes. I'm told he normally sees to them in the dungeons, but since he's here for breakfast, well, you can help him with his... hungers."

 

"Aye, girl, come over here and just relax," the guard added.

 

Removing his helmet and gloves, Lundvar massaged my belly in a way that mad me profoundly uncomfortable and forced me to clench tight to keep from having any more unwanted releases.

 

"Yes," he breathed, "that's right, hold it in all at the end, don't let go until I'm... yes, now, give it all to me," has last word became muffled as I felt his lips push against my rear and his tongue probe at my tight bud.

 

"Wait," I said to Vorstag with concern and confusion, "I can't..."

 

The bearded man laughed, "don't worry, sister, he loves it. Make a mess all over his face and then let him lick you clean. Do it, and he'll give to the temple like you've never seen before."

 

"Yes," I heard mumbled between my cheeks, "I want it all."

 

In spite of his begging, I found it hard to give him what he wanted. Some deep seated instinct told me that I absolutely could not relieve myself on a man's face, and certainly not on a guard. I actually strained a little trying to fulfil his fantasy and I just couldn't do it. Not until Vorstag helped me a little bit, reaching under my arms and beginning to tickle me with increasing speed and focus. Laughing against my will, I tried to squirm away as my whole body shuddered, and then I felt my belly slip again and the proverbial floodgates were open. A foul smell filled the room as Lundvar the guard groaned in abject pleasure. 

 

His words distorted by the mess I could only imagine was all over his face, I heard Lundvar gasp almost orgasmically, "hail Queen Dibella, all bless her name!" This continued with different degrees of variation as the man wallowed in my leavings and then proceeded to studiously lick my body clean. By the end of the exercise, I felt very strange. I wondered if this is what a hog feels like, rolling in its own shit? Whatever it was, I'd never experienced it before, and I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to experience it again.

 

I emerged from the side room to see my breakfast laid out by a blushing barmaid. The girl, who it turned out what the innkeeper's daughter, kept looking at me and then glancing away, her blush deepening every time she met my eyes. "Reverend Sister," she began with odd formality, "your breakfast is ready. But if you aren't hungry anymore, I can have it packed..."

 

I shook my head, "No, thank you, I appreciate the thought, but I'm going to die if I go another minute without something to eat." 

 

"Good job, daugher," Edippa said, "you've exceeded even my boldest expectation. And I think... we've finally cured you of your bashfulness."

 

"What do you mean?" I asked, using the provided fork to extract a slice of custard-stuffed apple before even sitting down. 

 

Edippa looked, "Blessed Lady, you don't even realize it. Look, you're not covering your body anymore."

 

 

I finished chewing the apple slice, then I looked down to realize that I was, indeed, no longer trying to hide myself. Not just that, but I realized I was free of a tension in my shoulders that had been there all morning. I felt wholly free of the misgivings I'd held before, but also I didn't feel compelled by lust. I felt like I was the master of my body, rather than a party to a struggle between my desires and my learned expectations of modesty and reserve.

 

"Mother, I do believe you're right. But that horker bacon is also demanding it get into my mouth immediately, so before we discuss further, I insist we get on with breakfast."

 

Edippa had no objections to voice about this plan, and we set about devouring our large morning meal. Sated, I thought about asking for more donations, but I decided that first I owed myself something.

 

"Divines, that was delicious. Now, mother," I said, stacking my plates and trenchers for the serving wench, "I think we have a date with an alchemist."

 

After a walk around the perimeter of Dryside, Edippa led me through a door recessed in the rock. From below, a voice called to me: "It's downstairs, dear, come on down."

 

We descended a long staircase into what might have once been a dwarven vault. Now, it was full of wooden shelves and workbenches. Edippa waved to an older woman, greeting her warmly.

 

"Bothela! You haven't aged a day!"

 

 

The old woman squinted at Edippa, then cackled. "If it isn't Edippa Fire-Eye. I thought priestesses weren't supposed to lie. And who's this?"

 

Edippa gestured to me, saying, "Bothela, this is my daughter Kirstia."

 

The crone examined me, smirking, "following in the family business, I see." 

 

Edippa shrugged, "well, one of them had to."

 

"True, true enough. So how can I help you two today?"

 

"I'm interested in luminous body paint, actually," I said, pushing my wait into the conversation. 

 

"Is that so?" asked Bothela. "Well, maybe I can help you then. Let's see."

 

Turning to a shelf of vials she spoke, I think half to me and half to herself, "you know, in my day I was quite a painter myself. Maybe it's time I tried my hand at it again."

 

After a moment of further searching she asked, "do you have a particular pattern in mind?"

 

I thought about that, and found an answer quickly. "Something that uses a lot of my body, but not solid, so my natural skin color still shows through. Gold, I think, or a match for my hair color. And with flowers, to show my tie to the temple."

 

"Oh," the old woman mouthed with sarcasm, "that's all? Well, it's luck you came to see me, because I think I know exactly what you need. Make yourself comfortable, kid, I need to do some brewing and then I need to find out where my damn assistant's wandered off to."

 

I found a comfortable looking chair and let myself down, watching her as she bustled back and forth. "Muiri!" she called out, "stop sulking and come help me!"

 

At length, a much younger woman appeared. "How can I help, ma'am?" 

 

Bothela waggled a finger in my direction, "she's getting painted up. I need you to give her a trim."

 

"Wait, what?" I asked.

 

"Kid, I know it makes you feel all grown up," Bothela said, almost but not quite sneering, "but that bush of your has got to go if I'm going to paint your whole body. You can grow it back out after, if you want, once the paint has a chance to soak in it'll stay there till you have it removed. My special little twist on the glow enchantment."

 

I rolled my eyes, "I don't suppose you're friends with the toll collector - the Breton one?"

 

"What? No, sorry, never spoke a word to him. Now get comfortable so Muiri can start trimming you up." 

 

Disinterested but obedient, Muiri motioned for me to scoot forward a bit in the chair and then open my legs. Working expertly with frothy cream and a flat, sharp knife, Muiri carefully trimmed my hair right down to the skin until my lower half was completely smooth. I won't say I disliked the way it looked when she was done, but at the same time I'd gotten used to my natural look and now I felt a little chilly - though I think that was mostly my imagination, considering how warm the shop was.

 

"Alright, now put your hands up over your head."

 

"Huh?" I questioned.

 

Muiri rolled her eyes, "armpits too, come on."

 

I assented, trying not to giggle as the blade ran along my sensitive spots. Before I knew it, I was completely hairless below my neck. 

 

"OK, almost done, new lift up your leg," the assistant ordered. I did as she said, and she squatted down to examine between my legs.

 

"Well, at least you're not one of those Nords who grows hair between your ass cheeks. I hate shaving that stuff. Alright, you're done."

 

"And I'm ready to start," Bothela announced, entering the room with a small pot of paint in one hand and a fine-tipped brush in the other. "I think you're going to like this."

 

She set to work, dipping the brush and drawing fine lines on my body. The paint did indeed glow gold, but the fumes coming off it also made my eyes water. I did my best from that point forward to keep my head pointed away from wherever Bothela was working. I sat there, and then stood as the old crone started on my legs and back, for what seemed like an hour until finally Bothela put a cork in her vial of paint. "Tell me what you think," she said, offering me a mirror.

 

I looked at my reflection carefully. My eyes were still running a little from the acrid scent of the paint, but not so much so that I couldn't appreciate Bothela's work. Just as I'd asked, the pattern was ran along much of my trunk, but without any solid blocks that might hide my skin. Floral and fern patterns traced all around, and I knew from earlier that it continued onto my back.

 

 

"You like it?" she asked, "want me to do your hands and feet, and your face too?"

 

"My hands and feet, certainly," I welcomed, "but let's leave my face alone. I was already in tears from the smell of the paint when it was at a distance."

 

"Fair enough, fair enough. How about those cute teats of yours? Want some extra decorations."

 

I threw my hands up in supplication, "sure, why not. I'll trust your good taste."

 

Bothela cackled again, "you won't be disappointed kid. You're going to be the most popular girl in the temple when I'm done."

 

 

When Bothela was finally finished, Edippa was positively giddy as I checked myself in the mirror.

 

"Daughter," she gasped, "this is... amazing. You're just stunning. I'm so glad you went through with this."

 

I scrutinized myself a little more before handing the mirror back to Bothela. "Thank you, truly. This is amazing. How long will it last?"

 

The old woman smiled broadly, "well, if you wash it in the next few hours, it'll be gone. But after that it'll dye your skin and then it's there to stay until you come back here for me to take it off."

 

"And what if I'm away from Markarth and I need to change it?"

 

"Well," she conceded, "I imagine another alchemist could help you. But I won't promise they'll do as good a job if you decide to change it. Best you come back here for something like that."

 

Jenassa, I noticed, didn't seem quite so excited. I crooked an eyebrow at her and she explained, "the roads are dangerous enough for girls on their own. You need to be especially careful, now that you've decided to literally glow in the dark."

 

I shrugged, "that's a fair point. I'll be counting on you to keep me safe."

 

Jenassa just rolled her eyes at that.

 

 

Troubleshooting and Conflict Resolution

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