While the witch was busy cooking in the kitchen, Theiden looked for blankets. At first, he thought he might have been able to use the second padded quilt beneath the blanket he had been using as a bedroll, but a long gray stain revealed itself as soon as he lifted the cover. It would need to be washed before it could ever be set out for a picnic.

"Where are you going with that?" Lenesa asked, sounding a bit startled as Theiden descended the loft ladder and carried the bundle into the washroom.

"It's something for Kettle to have fun with later," he called back over his shoulder. He opened the door to toss the quilt into the copper tub, and then returned to the main area of the cottage, looking around.

"Are there any blankets in the chest by your bed?" he asked. Behind him, something clattered, and he turned to find Lenesa hurriedly picking up the wooden spoon she had dropped on the counter.

"Uh, no, I don't think so," she replied, turning away to sort through her ingredients.

"I could check," Theiden offered.

"It's locked," she blurted, looking up at him and then back to her work just as quickly.

"Well, give me the key," he said, confused at her sudden aversion.

"I-I don't have it right now," she said. "I think Kettle must have put it someplace. You can just take the quilts off my bed for now."

"They'll get dirty," Theiden said.

"That's okay," she hastily replied, rifling through a few pages of her cookbook. "The nights are getting warmer, anyway—I shouldn't need so many anymore."

Theiden narrowed his eyes, but Lenesa studiously avoided his gaze. Eventually, he gave up trying to figure her out and took the top two quilts off her bed. He was surprised to realize that three others still remained, and he wondered how the witch had been able to sleep at night without being suffocated.

"Could you bring out the lanterns from above the fireplace, too?" Lenesa called once Theiden had laid out the blankets and returned to the cottage. "I think those would add a nice touch."

Theiden took the four ornately-designed black lanterns from their place on the mantle as she had suggested, and set them outside along the perimeter of the quilts. Shwei followed after him as a cat, batting at the inside of each lantern as it was set down to leave a small blue flame glowing within.

On his next trip back into the cottage, Lenesa suggested he find them something to drink in the pantry. Most of the bottles were different selections of meads and beer from the various Patachal City breweries, but Theiden finally found a bottle of wine from the Panpipe Pub that would do nicely. Meanwhile, the sweet aroma of strawberries and sugar filled the kitchen, making his mouth water.

"Smells good," he commented as he passed Lenesa to get two glasses from one of the cupboards.

"Those are the tarts for dessert," she explained, a small smile cresting her lips at the praise. Whatever mood she had been in earlier seemed to have vanished. "The dinner's almost ready. You can wait outside—I'll be there in a minute."

The sky had darkened a little in the time Theiden had been searching through the pantry, and it was now dark enough for the lanterns to cast their light in scattered beads across the ground.

He poured a glass of wine while he waited and looked up at the sky. The sun was setting, tinting the clouds a cherry blossom pink, and a lump formed in Theiden's throat as he realized he was facing the same direction as his home. How was his mother? Was Em eating well? He downed the drink and poured another, not pausing to savor the taste. To keep his mind off the worries of his family, he tried humming a tune—an upbeat waltz from the dance hall he had frequented when he was younger. He hadn't had so many worries, then.

"You must have picked a good wine."

Theiden gave a start, and the liquid in his glass sloshed over onto his hand. Lenesa was standing before him, holding the tray with their dinner.

"Ah," Theiden said. "It's—uh, good. Yes."

Lenesa smiled and set the tray down, settling beside him on the other quilt. Shwei sprawled on his back, purring happily as the witch set out their plates.

"Usually I just prefer to have my tea," Lenesa said. "So I've gathered quite a collection of alcohol over the years. It's often gifted to me in celebration." She nodded at the bottle beside them. "That one, I found the innkeeper's goats and brought them back to him. And no, I didn't use magic to do it. He was most grateful."

Theiden gave a short laugh, despite his earlier somber mood. The image of Lenesa chasing after the innkeeper's goats, trying to corral them back into their pen, seemed so human. If she hadn't been a witch, he wondered, how different would things have been between them? He imagined he would have enjoyed her companionship in the city.

"That tune you were humming earlier," Lenesa recalled as they began to eat. "What was it? It was very pretty."

Theiden gave a wistful smile, looking out as the sun bled into the horizon, branches of red and orange in the sky fading into cold fingers of purple and blue. "It's the Waltz of the Tumble-Down House."

Lenesa gave a small laugh. "What an unusual name."

Theiden took another sip of his wine and leaned back onto the quilt. "It was really popular in the dance hall a few years ago, after a traveling bard came by and introduced it to our city," he said. "My wife and I danced to it often." He could still remember how her eyes had sparkled when he'd first asked her to dance. She had been such a good dancer, even twirling around the house after Em had been born with their daughter cradled lovingly in her arms.

Theiden looked down and swirled the remaining liquid in his glass. They had been such a happy family. But Malisse's love had been her downfall, in the end.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did she die?" Lenesa asked, softly. "You mentioned a Turned witch killed her, didn't you?"

Theiden took a deep breath. The anger and frustration at the situation and his helplessness to do anything still stung, even after so many years. "She went to pick berries just beyond the city walls," he began. "One of her older brothers went with her as a chaperone. They ran into a witch, and her brother stayed to fight it off and give her time to escape—only she couldn't stand the thought of leaving him on his own to die. It was only when he reminded her of Em that she finally turned and ran, but a spell struck her as she made her escape."

He found the next words stuck in his throat as he drew in a shaky breath. His gaze was fixed on the corner of a quilt, and he had to blink several times to push back the tears that blurred his vision.

"She died a few hours later," he continued in a softer voice. The pain of that day was etched in his heart, and hurt just as sharply as it had then. "At some point, I think she lost her will to live, the pain was so great. Her brother's death only added to her grief and regret."

"I'm sorry." Lenesa's voice was barely above a whisper. Theiden looked up to meet her gaze. She was sitting as still as a statue and the moon was shining on her hair, casting it in a glow that made it seem made of moonbeams itself.

"You should go back," she said.

It took a moment for her words to register. When they did, Theiden felt a leap of hope that he quickly stomped down. "I made a promise I'd help you fight the Turned—"

"And you did," Lenesa interrupted. "Just earlier today you confronted Audeste. But I realize now that it's no use. I'm only putting you in more danger, when all I ever wanted was to keep you from them. I'm letting my own selfishness get in the way, and I'm keeping you from the life you should be living."

Theiden was silent for a moment. He did want to return home, more than anything. But for some reason, there was an uneasiness akin to guilt at the thought of just leaving Lenesa to fend of the monsters that lurked in the forest.

"I need to get the tarts before they burn," Lenesa suddenly gasped. "I'll be right back."

Theiden watched her hurry back into the cottage, still stuck in his thoughts. If he stayed just a little while longer and continued to train with Lenesa, they might have a chance together against Audeste the next time they encountered her. And if he were to go home now, there was no telling if things would only get worse—

Theiden shook his head. Was he actually thinking of staying?

The something rustled in the grass to his left, and he gave a start that nearly spilled the remaining wine out of his glass. A red knitted cap poked up from the greenery a few seconds later, however, and Theiden relaxed with an exasperated sigh.

"Is gardening on the list of activities for today, Kettle?" he asked.

An indignant, squeaky scoff met his question. "Do I look like a garden gnome?" she retorted, parting the grass and stepping onto one of the quilts with her hands on her hips. "I'd never dirty myself with such chores. That's Lenesa's specialty."

"Ah," Theiden said, finishing the rest of his wine. "My apologies. What brings you outside, then?"

The little tomte raised her nose to the sky and gave a single large sniff. Theiden couldn't tell if it was an indignant gesture, or if she was just enjoying the scent of the food. "There was no breakfast left out for me tonight," she said. "No porridge or pudding to be found. I thought that surely there must have been a mistake."

Theiden looked up at the last rays of light still on the horizon. "Well, you did wake up a bit earlier than usual," he said. "Do you want to share a fruit tart instead?"

"A fruit tart?" Theiden felt the corners of his mouth twitch up at Kettle's tone. She was trying to act annoyed, but he could tell that she was intrigued by the offer.

"Well," Kettle said, "perhaps it would be nice to have something different, for a change."

Lenesa returned just then with the two tarts balanced on her serving tray. The witch gave a small gasp when she noticed the little gray figure sitting next to Theiden.

"Oh, Kettle!" she exclaimed. "I haven't gotten to the porridge yet, I'll go right back and—"

"It's okay," Kettle interrupted. "I'm sharing with Theiden."

Lenesa paused, mouth open mid-word, and slowly turned to face Theiden, who nodded.

"I'll get another fork," he said, standing up and stretching out his legs. Pins and needles danced through his limbs after having been sitting for so long.

"One of the smaller ones," Kettle added.

Theiden gave a smile. "Yes, one of those."

He stepped over the quilts and headed back inside the cottage. The kitchen was growing dark, and he lit a candle by the sill before trying a few different drawers. The first drawer he tried was still locked—presumably the one with all the knives, Theiden figured, but he couldn't fault the witch for that.

He had a bit more luck with the next drawer he tried, but it was only filled with spatulas and measuring spoons.

The third drawer had forks, but it was the object sitting on top of them that made him pause.

The teacup was small and red, with a gold rim and filigree that glimmered in the dim candlelight. It took Theiden only a moment to realize why it looked so familiar—it was one of Kivirra's teacup goblins.

Lenesa had lied to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I'm so sorry, I hate to leave it at that but I kept getting stuck here!  I figured it was better to post a little with a cliffhanger than wait forever and an eternity for a complete conclusion.  Anyway, the chapter starts out happily enough, so that's something, right?  Theiden's starting to catch on to what Lenesa's been hiding from him, and the confrontation isn't going to be pretty.  Please let me know your thoughts, and thank you for reading!!