This is a fanfiction. Yeah, it is a wall of text. If I had ANY artistic talent I’d try to illustrate it. But I don’t so I can’t. I wrote it after a commission last night from Kazerad. I asked for “Quill Weave and Weedum-Ja playing Twister” and added that nudity needn’t be involved. Bikinis are fine. What I got was something totally different, and inspired me to write this…

It’s a little bit risque but not bad really. If you have the eyes for reading a bit, give it a shot and let me know what you think! If you’re Kazerad, stop reading here. This is not for you. Kazerad is now officially allowed to read this.

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She’d never much liked Weedum-Ja. It might even have been a touch of jealousy though, at least she recognized that. While she had achieved some modest fame through her writing, her rival had won hers through adventures and a skill with people that Quill simply didn’t possess. But what really pissed her off was Weedum-Ja’s inexhaustible knowledge of lore. Well, maybe not that so much as her apparent inability to stop from expounding on every subject like an expert because of it. Worse yet, Weedum was invariably correct. Quill checked up on her more than once. There’s nothing worse than a know it all who actually does!

Still, while a distant cousin, she was family and in adverse times you help your own. Quill had received the letter just two days ago. The events around Kvatch were still sketchy, but Weedum had been clear enough on one aspect. Her home was gone and she needed a place to stay till she got it rebuilt. Even Quill had to cringe at the loss of Weedum-Ja’s library. It had been impressive. Now apparently all lost to the flames.

Though Quill Weave’s own abode was nice enough, it was small. It was just right for her in her solitary lifestyle and just big enough to invite her few friends over in the living room to play Dwemers and Dragons occasionally when the pub was too busy. She only had one bedroom, and even with the work she’d done restoring it, it still had scars from the trashing that damned khajiit had left behind. The window had been repaired, but she left it open nearly all the time due to the faint but lingering odor. Even now she trembled involuntarily at the thought of what must have gone on in that room. But Weedum-Ja didn’t need to know that. Fortunately the odor was an unidentifiable mix of khajiit, unicorn dung, sex and moldy peas.

Flowers? Maybe flowers would help.

Well, she’d put up with sleeping with that mangy cat for a night. Sleeping with a fellow argonian, even Weedum-Ja, would be better than that. At least her cousin wasn’t destitute. At one time she had had more money that Quill herself, which was a comforting thought. That is, if she hadn’t gambled it all away. The tales she’d heard of Weedum-Ja’s penchant for alcohol and gambling were a bit too specific to be completely false.

Quill sighed deeply and squinted her eyes as the mid-morning sun struck her full in the face. Once again she had managed sleep halfway on and halfway off the bed again with her head-fins nearly touching the floor. She turned her head and looked under the bed. Yup. Still there. The ball gag she’d found still bore deep fang-marks in the distinctive pattern of a khajiit. Why hadn’t she thrown it away? She knew the answer to that of course. There was a book in that wretched cat. The ball gag was a memento. If the poor thing lived long enough to warrant one anyway. “Although,” Quill found herself musing, “an interesting enough death might make an even better story.”

“STOP!” she said out loud. “Don’t think like that Quill! Your reading public doesn’t need to know about your morbid fantasies!”

Instead she rearranged herself, scratched her ass and tasted the vile remains of last night’s dinner – a mostly liquid dinner. She really should stop drinking so much, she thought, then got to her feet, steadied herself with her tail, and staggered off to her closet. Inside she found her Favorite Outfit #27. She had over thirty, all custom made to her exact proportions. The townsfolk thought she was odd, wearing the same clothes day in and day out. But she knew better. She just had lots of identical ones. It made things so much easier! “Which clothes to wear today? Why, the clean ones of course!” She stole a touch on the hidden black outfit in the back of the closet and smiled an evil smile, then closed the closet door.

When she turned back, she glanced down and shoveled yesterday’s clothes under the bed with her foot. Not too bad. No vomit anyway. And that thought along with an urging in her bladder took her to her bathroom where she spent another 20 minutes brushing her teeth. She’d always been proud of her teeth. Bright sharp fangs all around. That’s the way to stay young. She’d never seen an old Argonian with perfect teeth – so she was going to stay young by good dental hygiene! A quick splash of water and she was soon dressed and ready for a new day.

Of doing nothing.

“It’s good to be a writer,” she thought as she plopped back onto the bed and felt the sun on her tail.

A couple hours later she got up to begin the day in earnest when the maid came in. Quill liked the white khajiit. Very meticulous. As far as Quill was concerned, the albino cat had never left so much as a stray white hair behind. And, though she wouldn’t admit it under torture, the sight of that little tuft of fur peeking out from the collar of her maid’s outfit sent a little thrill down to her tail. Clean, tidy and healthy with a bit of meat on her bones unlike like that yellow scraggly thing. Maybe someday Quill would ask the maid her name.

“Hey, would you mind picking up some flowers and setting them in my room? My cousin Weedum-Ja is coming to visit today and I’d like to see if we can cover up that stench.”

“Yes ma’am,” the khajiit replied as sweetly as that grating voice could manage.

“Oh, and maid, would you be interested in making an extra septim or two tonight?”

The red albino eyes shot up to her instantly. “Ma’am?”

“Bingo,” Quill smiled inwardly.

“I’d like to do some entertaining. You can bring some friends along. About five I think. But clean, respectable friends mind you!”

“Yes ma’am!” said the maid, her eyes shining now. Funny how a bit of money could do that to these types.

But the maid stood looking at her as if she had a question. “Yes? Was there something else?”

“Sorry ma’am but I need to know which type of friends to bring.”

Quill pondered this. She wasn’t too sure what Weedum-Ja liked in the way of entertainment.

“Bring a variety, both male and female of different races please. Oh, bring one of those dunmers if you know one. They’re always fun!”

“Will… um… Will they get paid too?”

Quill sighed. Why must it always come down to money? Was there no such thing as loyalty anymore?

“Oh, I suppose. If my cousin likes them.” said the argonian and she was delighted to see the little khajiit smile her bright smile back at her and start her chores around the house. “Such a sweetheart,” Quill thought as she watched the maid carrying out the chamber pot delicately. “I’m lucky to have her.”

**********

A knock came on the door that evening. Quill was at her writing desk as usual, staring at a blank page. She jumped a bit but soon had her clothes back on and opened the door.

“Welcome cousin! Come on in. Have a seat!” Quill greeted her green relative warmly, even if she didn’t feel terribly sincere about it.

“Hi Quill! How’s the writing business?” said, Weedum-Ja heartily while her keen eyes scanned the room as if looking for something to complain about.

“Oh, not bad. I had a new book published last month. Have you heard about it?”

Weedum-Ja headed straight for the kitchen and Quill rolled her eyes. “Not wasting any time mooching off me,” she thought.

“New book? It’s not one of those fiction things is it? You know I don’t read those.”

“Well, yes. It is.”

“Waste of time if you ask me. Bunch of made-up stories. Not that I begrudge you the income mind you! The plebs of the world revel in that stuff. Bread and circuses. Keep the masses entertained while the world goes to hell, right?”

“I suppose so,” Quill answered. Inwardly she wondered, “How is it possible for her to get on my nerves 5 minutes after she gets here?”

Later, Quill was sitting at one of her dining chairs while her guest sprawled over her good padded chair like an overstuffed pillow.

“…still,” Weedum-Ja was saying while she snacked on a carrot, “a cozy little place. Thanks for letting me stay with you. I know you and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on everything, but you’re always there for me when I need help and I appreciate that.”

What Quill appreciated was the growing pile of crumbs around, and in, her favorite chair.

“That’s what family is for, no? So, any idea how long you’ll be staying?”

“Well, the contractor says he’ll have the roof back up a week from now. Of course, he’s one of those orsimer types. Great for heavy lifting but their estimates leave much to be desired. If only we had some good argonian builders in Kvatch! They’d have the whole thing done by next week and they’d get it done right. But no, this orsimer’s all we’ve got that isn’t working on the chapel or the palace already. Cost a pretty septim too. They sure know how to gouge a girl when the times are tough. Fortunately I’m not in any hurry. Within a month or two it should be good as new.”

“A month or two,” Quill quoted, her tail gone limp.

“Oh cheer up cousin! We’ll have a great time. So, how about we go to that bar I was at last time? It’s been a long dry trip.”

“Actually, my maid is coming by later with some friends to keep us entertained.”

Weedum-Ja seemed to consider this, “Well, okay. If you’ve already made plans. Is she cute?”

“Weedum,” Quill explained, “she’s a khajiit.”

“Ew! You let one of them into your house?”

“Yes, and she does a good job too! You should be more open minded like me.”

“Well, maybe. What’s her name?”

“Um… ‘Maid’?”

Weedum-Ja laughed at Quill which sent her mood lower.

“Hey! She’s only been working here a couple of years. What do you expect?” Quill rallied.

Weedum-Ja uncoiled herself and stood up. “I expect,” she said looking back towards the kitchen, “that somewhere in this house you have something a body can drink. That’s not water or fruit juice!”

Quill rose. “Hang on, I’ll get you something. Mixed or straight?” she asked, admitting to herself that the girl had a good idea there.

“Straight. If we’re going to have a party, we’d best not waste any time!”

In fact, time wasn’t the only thing that was wasted by the time the little khajiit timidly knocked on the door later that night. Weedum-Ja had actually managed to raise Quill’s spirit a little as they sang some old song from the Marsh. Quill was actually laughing when she opened the door and saw her maid, another khajiit, a nord and two dunmer outside. She noticed one of the dunmer held some sort of musical instrument which she smiled at approvingly.

“Welcome friends! I assume she…” Quill said, nodding towards her maid, “told you already. I’m hosting my cousin Weedum-Ja tonight and was hoping you might like to entertain us a little.”

The four turned to the maid who turned back to Quill, saying, “We thought a little music and some dancing maybe? Ma’am?”

Weedum called from the living room, “That would be great! Come on in!”

Quill stood aside as the little troupe marched in, only a little irked at Weedum’s presumption. But the group looked nice and she didn’t fail to notice the smell of soap on each of them.

“Probably the first bath they’ve had in weeks,” she thought to herself. “Still, they are a healthy looking group.”

Even the other khajiit didn’t seem to be scanning the room looking for valuables. Instead the dunmer started to play and the other four paired off and started dancing.

“Nice!” Weedum-Ja said, nodding approvingly to Quill Weave. But under her breath she said, “I bet you 5 septims he plays King and Country next.”

Quill, who knew her cousin well, had no doubt that she was earnest in her suggested wager. “You’re on!” she smiled.

An hour later Quill was up 20 septims on the various wagers and she was in a very good mood. Fortunately, her guest didn’t seem to mind losing. Quill even offered some drinks to the entertainers. As it turned out, her maid was quite skilled at dancing and even managed to sing a song or two in that odd raspy voice. At last the dancers asked if they could take a break and Quill was happy to let them do so.

“So, what do you think?” she asked Weedum-Ja.

“Very nice!” her fellow Argonian answered. “That maid of yours is quite the dancer too. Great body!” Then, as if correcting herself, she added, “…for a cat I mean.”

Quill blushed a bit at that. Her cousin had never been what she would call modest, and it seemed the more drinks that went down her throat, the more libertine her attitude became.

“I… suppose so. But how about that nord eh? I bet he’s got a six-pack under that shirt I could wash my clothes on!” she responded, hoping it was the right thing to say in the circumstances. While her preferences might lie in the other direction, she knew her cousin was a devout ‘maleologist’.

“Well! Let’s find out! I’ll bet you that neither of us think he has abdominals worth mentioning.  Say, 5 septims?”

Quill looked back to where the nord was looking at them, smiling and well within earshot. She took that as a good sign and repeated the phrase she seemed to have said a lot tonight, “You’re on!”

They both looked to the man who laughed and lifted his shirt up. 5 more septims found their way into Quill’s palm.

Weedum-Ja shook her head at the man as he pulled his shirt back down. “No no! Leave it off! You cost me 5 septims. Least you can do is let me admire my loss!”

He shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head.

“Hey! I’ve got an idea!” Weedum said, downing yet another glass.  "I have this game someone back in Kvatch made for me.  Here, let me show you how it works…“

A few minutes later, Weedum-Ja was seated around the others on the floor. Even Quill had loosened up to the point she was chatting with her maid like an old friend.

"So, let me get this straight… You spin that arrow, and whichever color it lands on, you have to touch that color on the mat. But it doesn’t matter which dot you touch as long as it’s that color?”

Weedum-Ja nodded happily. “That’s it! You just have to use the foot or hand it indicates. And not fall over.”

“But… there’s nothing for tails on the arrow-thing,” the other khajiit pointed out.

Weedum-Ja put on a frown, “No. Invented by humans. No tails.”

“Well! Let’s give it a try!” one of the dunmer cried.

“Yes, lets!” the maid agreed, her own speech becoming a little slurred.

Quill looked at Weedum-Ja as the other got to her feet. “Weedum! Surely you don’t expect me to… do that!”

Weedum looked at her cousin. “Well, not if you don’t want to I guess.”

“Hey, if I’m not wearing a shirt,” the nord pointed out as the two argonians settled into their seats to referee the game, “I think the others should take theirs off too!”

Weedum-Ja squealed with joy. “Indeed! Come on girls. Off with em!”

Quill Weave looked at her cousin as if she’d gone insane and swiftly shuttered the window. “WEEDUM! I’m a respectable member of this town! What if someone were to find out?!”

Weedum slapped her cousin on the back. “Oh my god. Quill! Live a little!”

Quill looked back to where the entertainers had already doffed their shirts. She blinked at the multiple sets of breasts bobbing about in front of her, then looked at her drink. In an instant it was down the hatch and refilled as if by magic.

“What the hell?” she declared. “I’m no Stick In The Mud!”

“Okay, so take turns in this order. Whitey, you go first. Left Hand Red!” Weedum-Ja declared, starting the game.

By the end of the first game, everyone was sufficiently lubricated that they were all having a good time. Even Quill Weave was getting into it. It didn’t hurt that she was up 20 more septims by the end of it, having only bet on the wrong horse once.

“What say we up the stakes, cousin?”

“Sure!” Quill responded a little too loudly, and, she realized, a little to happily. The show in front of her was far more arousing that she cared to admit. “How much are you thinking?”

“I’m not referring to the bets, darling!” Weedum-Ja leered. “OFF WITH THE BOTTOMS!”

Quill Weave’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as she looked back at the players. And they were doing it! In a few seconds there was a room full of naked bodies writhing around in front of her.

“40 Septims on the pink human!”

“Buh… bu…”

“It’s a bet!”

Quill watched as body parts touched body parts that should not do so outside of marriage. Other body parts touched body parts that shouldn’t be touched regardless!

Weedum-Ja had taken over the duties of arrow-spinner as Quill had gone speechless. The tableau in front of her looked like a cultural diversity mural gone badly awry. Not that the participants weren’t getting along fine. Some maybe too well. Had Quill not lost her motor skills, she would have gone to get a bucket of cold water.

“Oh relax,” Weedum-Ja laughed as Quill turned slowly towards her, her eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s a plastic mat. There won’t be any stains on your carpet.”

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In the end, Weedum-Ja had been almost right. After Quill had sworn all the players to secrecy and paid them a healthy extra to help seal their mouths, she closed the door and turned back to Weedum-Ja, who was now snoring and draped over her chair like a misplaced dress. Fortunately she had won enough from Weedum-Ja to cover the entertainer’s expenses with a little left over. In the spirit of diversity, Weedum-Ja had eventually joined in the game fully before her metabolism had finally given out at the onslaught of alcohol.

“At least no one can accuse me of participating!” Quill said, looking down at her nice and still fully-dressed body.

Then she looked back at her cousin. Her distant cousin. In the sprawled position she’d ended up in, she didn’t look like much of a cousin at all. She looked like a drunken, naked female lizard.

“Should I leave her here?” Quill thought to herself. “She certainly deserves to wake up with a backache. Not to mention the headache we’ll both surely have.”

But some remote part of her complained. She’d certainly not want that for herself. Then, like a flash out of the sky, she realized something. Something important. Something meaningful.

She dragged her cousin semi-consciously to her feet and helped her carefully up the stairs.

“Come on Weedum. One step at a time,” she said as the other mumbled something unintelligible back. Other than one little slip on the landing, she managed to get her cousin to lay down properly in her bed.

As she covered up the now-snoring guest, she was proud that she had not gotten too aroused at carrying the naked argonian after all. Morning would be awkward, but in her state there’s no way she was going to manage to get Weedum-Ja’s underwear back on her now.  But she no longer cared much about that. She was thinking about someone else.

Quill climbed into the bed beside her cousin and lay awake while the ceiling spun around her. Weedum-Ja shifted then and Quill let out a quiet squeak as Weedum’s tail came to rest in an inappropriate place. She carefully moved the tail away, but it promptly flopped back across her chest. Quill gave up. She couldn’t help but be aware of the touch of her bedmate, but she was remembering a night not long ago when another person had slept beside her in this bed, and her cousin’s snoring and unconscious touch didn’t bother her anymore.  She had awoken that next morning, not sprawled upside down half on and half off the bed like usual, but properly aligned and her blanked snugly over her shoulders. She hadn’t thought about it at the time. The khajiit had done that. That mangy, sad, scrawny khajiit had taken the time to get her back into bed and tuck her in. And the effort! It’s a wonder the noodle-armed khajiit had even been able to lift her at all. But she had.

“Poor khajiit. I hope you’re doing alright,” she said out loud to the ever-circling ceiling. She knew she was suffering from the Drunk Emotional State, but she didn’t care. Drunk or sober, it was nice to think someone like that existed. But she comforted herself knowing that she’d helped the wretch out at least a little. If she ever returned, Quill Weave vowed then that she’d try and be nicer to her. If she ever returned. If not… well… she knew another khajiit didn’t she? Tomorrow she would ask her what her name was.

Quill Weave turned to her cousin and gave her a little kiss. “Goodnight Weedum-Ja,” she whispered, then turned back and closed her own eyes. The world stopped swimming. “Goodnight Katia, wherever you are,” was the last thing she thought before she fell to sleep.