At least spending some time in the Ashlands might make Daria appreciate the relatively bucolic landscape of Balmora now...

As Acadian noted, you really captured the empty, barren nature of the Ashlands. Yet your observation about it being outside of empires and politics due to that nature does make my inner Anarchist sing. It reminds me of how Buzz Aldrin described the Moon: "Magnificent Desolation".

Now why am I imagining the Macho Man doing commercials for Scrib Jerky? "Snap into a Slim Scrib! Oooh Yeah!"

I liked Daria's conversation with Mr. DeMartino about his motivations, and Redoran honor vs. Hlaalu greed. Of course what she is missing is herself. What is she going to live for, or die for? I get the feeling the Ashlands will force her to do just that.

Those aren't birds... I see I was right! No walk in Morrowind in complete with Cliffracers!

That was certainly a gripping battle of teen vs monster. Her burgeoning magic skills were on clear display, as was their limitations. It looks like Mr. DeMartino was there in the nick of time. Clearly, he's got some levels in Fighter.

Well as you know I'm usually quite chatty when it comes to comments, sometimes to the point of embarrassment! But I don't know what to say for this episode. Getting too bummed out! Mostly everything 'Rosa said above me are better anyway.



More like pseudo pterodactls! - And normally there'd be a LOT more of these to contend with, along with all the other usual monsters one encounters along the way: alits, nix hounds, even mudcrabbies!

I'd imagine Daria's "level" is still pretty low, which is the only good thing. See, 'cause at least they aren't seeing golden saints and atronachs and so on.

Sigh. Told ya I haven't got anything much relevant to say!

Chapter 5

The little campfire that Dimartani had built inside the outpost wasn't exactly cozy, but Daria was in no state to be picky.

Her body ached. No major damage, but she couldn't move without hurting. She was filthy, too, ash dusting her hair and smeared onto her skin. At least she was safe. At least the outpost still had some coal left by the previous occupants. The wind howled outside, and she was glad for the protection provided by the hollowed-out shell. Dimartani had saved her and even managed to find her glasses. It looked like she owed him yet again.

She lay in her bedroll next to the flames, the warmth soothing her cold and aching limbs. Dimartani sat opposite her.

"If you decide to STAY in Ald'ruhn for a while," he said, "I could teach you a bit more about self-defense. But you'll have to switch to SPEARS! I don't know what your father was THINKING teaching you how to use blades."

"He was thinking his daughters wouldn't do much fighting."

"Imperial SOFTNESS! The world is not as safe as you think, as proven by even a CURSORY study of Tamriel's history."

"Anyway," Daria continued, "I'm not planning to stay in Ald'ruhn. My parents only gave me a week's vacation."

He laughed. "Daria, I've been a TEACHER for many years. I can tell when a student is lying to me. I KNOW you aren't here on vacation."

Daria sighed. No reason to keep up the facade, she supposed. Not after what they'd been through. "What gave it away? Other than the fact that no one in their right mind would vacation in the Ashlands."

"When we met, you had the DEMEANOR of someone who wanted to get out of town," he said. "Was it more trouble with Synda?"

She watched the flames twist and snap in the ashen darkness. "No, not Synda. This has to do with Jane."

"She's CLEVERER than most," he said, his voice a bit softer. "I know you two are close."

"She's my best friend. Hell, she's my only friend. Or at least she was. Maybe you noticed that she hasn't been in school for a while."

"I did. Sera DEFOE told me that Jane now devotes herself to work."

"Yup. Too busy trying to get commissions to spend time studying. And then she got a full-time job…"

*********

Trent dozed in front of the hearth, and J'dash had already retired for the night. Daria sat at the same uneven wooden table where she'd had her first real Morrowind meal, almost two years ago. On the other side, Jane took the sujamma flask and filled her cup with the amber liquid before passing the flask over to Daria.

"That's gonna be it for me," Jane said. "As much as I'd love to drink the night away, we probably don't want to ride a silt strider while hungover."

Daria shrugged, not acknowledging the flask. She hated how happy everyone seemed to be. "Riding one of those bugs is bound to be unpleasant, so why not go all the way?"

Jane sipped her cup and then put it down. "What's bothering you, Daria? You've been pretty quiet tonight."

"As opposed to my normally ebullient persona?"

"There's charmingly dour, and then there's whatever's been going on with you. So what's going on?"

Daria stared down at her empty cup as tension boiled inside her. Why the hell did she have to keep pretending that everything was so great? Her best friend was leaving, and for nothing more than a better job.

"Jane, have you ever noticed that the defining aspect of Imperial—and by extension, Hlaalu—culture seems to be about getting ahead by any means? Regardless of what that means for others?"

"You know, I never thought I'd say this, but maybe you do need to lay off the books. It's my going-away party, Daria, not some discussion seminar on the Empire's social problems."

"As part of the Empire, we can't escape those problems." She looked up from her cup and leveled with Jane. "Especially since you're the one who's decided to devote your whole life to painting some noble you've never met."

"Wait, that's what this is about?"

"Don't you remember Natalinos? What a disaster he turned out to be?"

"Sure."

"Would have fooled me. You have no idea what this person is like, but you're uprooting yourself to serve her."

Jane shook her head and held up her hands, palms forward. "Wait, hold on! First of all, I only got this job because of you."

"If I'd known what it would've required, I wouldn't have told you about it."

"Daria, this is my big break! Yes, Natalinos was a jerk, but I can't shut myself away. You have parents who put food on the table. I don't."

"But you do have friends who'll support you. In Balmora, at least."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'd like to support myself. You've done a lot for me, Daria, but I can't keep doing what I'm doing now. It's been really hard these past few months. J'dash is getting old. I can't count on my next landlord being as nice."

"Or maybe, like everyone else at Drenlyn, working for Serjo Olerlo is something you're doing to impress others."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jane demanded.

Might as well get this over with, Daria thought. "Isn't it obvious? The whole point of Drenlyn Academy is to abase yourself before the nobility. To be another good servant in hopes of getting some table scraps thrown your way. It looks like you were a pretty good student, after all."

Jane stared at her. "That's what you think? Daria, have you paid any attention to my life over the past year? How hard I've worked? I don't have it easy the way you do! If flattering some aristocratic moron puts food on the table, I'll do it! Because that's the kind of world we live in."

"I guess you're pretty comfortable with that."

"You know what?" Jane said. "I am. Maybe the only reason you're mad that I'm on my way up is that you hate the idea of your poor little friend standing on her own for once. Because being a good servant to get some table scraps? That sounds a lot like what I've been doing for you!"

Daria pushed the chair back from the table and stood up, her heart pounding. She opened her mouth to say something—to cut Jane apart.

Instead, she stalked away, face red and burning and her hands gripped into quivering fists as she cut through the junk shop and out into the cold nighttime streets.

*********

"… I didn't want to go home and explain what had happened, so I spent the night at the Lucky Lockup. I ran into you the next morning, and you know what happened from there."

Retelling the tale to Dimartani hadn't hurt too much, at least. Saying it out loud, though, hearing Jane's words through her mouth... Daria understood why Jane had given up on her. Maybe the reason everyone ended up hating her had less to do with her insight and more to do with her being an imminently hateful person.

"Every friendship has its QUARRELS, Daria," he said.

"Every friendship sooner or later comes to an end."

Dimartani watched the flames dance in the shallow pit for a few moments before speaking.

"Jane is not someone I know very well. But if you are TRULY contrite, I suspect she will forgive you."

"Maybe," Daria said. "It's more than that, though. On some level, she was right. I am part of the system. Frankly, I benefit from it more than most."

"You need to think of it from Jane's perspective. I don't think she CARES about that as much as you do."

"Maybe she should care," Daria said. "I hate that she has to do this to get ahead."

She missed the Jane who so deftly navigated Balmora's complexities, always able to take Daria along for the ride. Still hard to imagine her devoting years of her life to painting the same spoiled noble over and over again.

Spoiled. That adjective applied perfectly well to Daria, so far as Jane was concerned.

"FRIENDSHIP is a stronger thing in Great House Redoran. We do not grasp for LUCRE the way the Hlaalu do. Our bonds are forged only by our deeds. And only broken by the same," he added, sighing.

"Do you think your clan will take you back?"

"I hope so," he said. "I do not think that a Hlaalu would be willing to give me a second chance. At least not if MONEY was involved."

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you get into gambling?"

He growled, and she could just see his teeth clenching together. "My GAMBLING years were a stressful time in my life, Daria. I TOO had quarreled with a close friend. He was… more than a friend, if you take my meaning."

Daria propped herself up on one elbow. "I think I do."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I was not SURE how the Imperials felt about such things. Here, there is no stigma to such relations so long as they are FLEETING and between younger Dunmer. But all Dunmer are expected to start families. Mer lack the FECUNDITY of Men and Beastfolk, so we must all contribute to the new generation."

"Attitudes in Cyrodiil tend to be more flexible," Daria said. "Did you ever think about moving?"

"Ha! There's that IMPERIAL attitude again. No, we were both sworn to Great House Redoran. We loved each other, but we also loved our service. You can see the difficulty."

"Seems like another case of the system forcing you to make a choice."

"It is my DUTY to make the right one," he said, his voice quavering. "It is not wrong for the system to expect MUCH of us. Survival in Morrowind has never been guaranteed, as I think today's events have AMPLY demonstrated."

Daria let her head settle back down on her pillow. "Do you know where your old boyfriend is?"

Dimartani shook his head. "No. All that matters is that I restore my reputation so that I can again serve as a WARRIOR and as a teacher. But I have proven that I am still willing to fight and, if necessary, DIE for my clan and house." He grinned. "You have proven yourself as well, Daria! I salute you for that."

Then he rested his back against the dusty shell, his face lost in darkness as the flames slowly died down.

Musical Closer - Red Mountain, White Ash, by PunkinChucker

Some people would consider 'me not saying much' as a blessing!

Daria is Level 1, I think. Speech is one of her Majors (we've discussed this) along with probably some other skills which aren't reflected in the game itself. Literacy for sure. Scholar for sure. Literacy and Scholar are skills found in the first tabletop game we played way back in high school. Those who were scholars would often just "know" things if a dice-roll was made, things pertaining to lore, lost histories, and so on.

Short Sword could be a Minor (I assume her dad has trained her a bit), along with Alteration. She casted a shield spell. Not sure what school of magic the spell which causes her to knock things over is though!

But now... how the heck are these two travelers from Balmora doing? That's the question. Okay, so she did find her glasses. That is good. 👓 Yeah, I don't THINK Daria's going to be STAYING in the Ald'ruhn area any longer than she HAS to, Dimartani. I mean... c'mon.

Uh oh, Jane & Dar had a fight. Eesh. Maybe they're not friends anymore. Feel bad for Daria, but in a way not really. She's sort of blind to the plight of others. Guess she expects Jane to remain poor and struggling. Sucks though. The dynamic of their previous relationship was enjoyable to read. Well maybe they'll both come around.

Quite a revelation from the D-man, phew.

So Daria did survive and make it to the safety of the outpost. Time to pause for a breather to lick their wounds, before plunging ahead with their mission... quest... thing.

Ah-HA! Mr DeMartino can smell what the Daria is cooking. Now are we GOING to finally get to the UNCOMFORTABLE reason that Daria decided to GO to Ald'Ruhn with MISTER DeMartino after all?

Trent is in his natural environment, sleeping! You would think he was a Khajiit, rather than a Dunmer by how much he snoozes.

Well, that was indeed uncomfortable. But not quite as bad as I had been building up in my mind. Still, Daria's sanctimoniousness and selfishness were on full display in equal measure. She's really got a lot of growing up to do.

Wow, through it all Mr DeMartino is showing quite a bit of empathy. I guess Daria is bringing out the wise old elder educator in him. Where people like Kevin and Britney just bring out the "Get Off My Lawn!" crazy old man in him.

Oh, and Mr DeMartino had a young beau when he was a young beau. Hot! Though sad his gambling addiction robbed him of that, along with the rest of his life. One can certainly see that his empathy for Daria's situation comes from his own lived experience.

Gowron has something he would like to say to Mr. DeMartino

We finally get the scoop on the fight that Daria and Jane had on their parting. Daria was definitely the ashhole in this argument. It was gratifying to hear, after Daria retold the tale, that she kind of realizes that she is the problem here, not Jane. Hopefully, Daria will take that to heart.

You’ve done a fabulous job of portraying our protagonist as quite imperfect – even behaving as a jerk with some regularity – yet, we still like her despite sometimes wanting to wring her neck.

I’ve had kind of a good feeling about Dimartani for some time and he doesn’t disappoint here with his insights and empathy. Particularly wise is his advice that he wagers Jane would forgive Daria if offered a heartfelt contrite apology. Then to top it off, it was nice of him to, despite Daria’s shortcomings, point out that she did indeed act with bravery during the cliffracer battle.

Chapter 6

Hard as it was to believe, Ald'ruhn's bleak sprawl of gray huts looked welcoming after the Ashlands.

They'd made better time on the return journey, arriving within sight of the city at sundown. It was night when they finally reached the gates, and Dimartani said it'd be best to sleep at the Rat in the Pot and wait until morning to palaver with his uncle.

Waking early, they ate a quick meal and set out. More than anything, Daria wanted to scrub herself pink, get rid of the accumulated grime clinging to every inch of her body. But baths in Ald'ruhn cost a lot, and she needed enough for the ride back. Her best bet was to take a quick trip to a Balmora bathhouse before she returned home.

A procession of Dunmer marched out from the big crab shell in the Inner City. The leader wore polished ebony armor, and his scarified countenance was set in a permanent scowl. Those around him were garbed in fine armor or thick robes colored in patterned reds and purples of dark hues. Jewelry and signs of office rested on their heads and hands, while armored guards marched alongside them. Commoners stood at attention, like legion troopers saluting a general.

"What's the occasion?" Daria asked.

Dimartani's head was bowed, and she followed suit upon seeing him.

"The FAMILY of Serjo Venim, the Archmaster of Great House Redoran!"

"I see. Did they all earn their place through deed?"

"We still have nobles, Daria. But Serjo Venim's children will NOT have a free ride."

"But I'm guessing they will have a lot of advantages, judging by how everyone salutes them."

And by the splendor they displayed. These were not people who took orders. She'd never seen the Dunmer of Hlaalu kowtow to their aristocrats in quite that fashion.

"Such is the way of things. Serjo Venim has led us WELL through these trying times. May ALMSIVI preserve his path!"

They watched until the procession reached the temple, a domed building all but identical to its counterpart in Balmora, before resuming their walk. Velo Dimartani already stood outside his hut, seated on a stool and smoking a bone pipe. A few younger Dunmer sat in the dust around him, deep in conversation. His eyes widened as Dimartani knelt before him.

"HONORED UNCLE!" Dimartani bellowed. "I have returned from your task. The outpost still stands. We were attacked by three cliff racers. Daria ACQUITTED herself admirably."

She blushed and hoped that Clan Hadrubal didn't see. No, she hadn't actually acquitted herself.

"Hm," Velo said, taking the pipe out of his mouth and exhaling a cloud of tanna smoke. "Faster than I expected."

"We did not delay. The outpost only had some coal. We used it to RECOVER from the rigors—"

"You what?" Velo's eyes suddenly bulged.

Dimartani paused. "We found some COAL. Daria had been injured, and I thought a fire would be best."

"I did not say you could use the coal."

"Did you even know there was coal there?" Daria demanded.

Velo shook his head. "That's not the point! Again, Andril, you showed carelessness with the clan's property."

"Forgive me, uncle. But I HAD to help my companion. That's a warrior's DUTY!"

"Not to mention common decency," Daria muttered under her breath. She wanted to yell it at the hateful old man, but voicing her opinion might jeopardize Dimartani's reinstatement.

"We had hoped your exile would teach you virtue, Andril. But you still behave selfishly."

"Selfishly? I was HELPING another!"

"You used our resources to aid one who is not known to us!" Velo sighed. "Gravely disappointing."

"I—" Dimartani looked up, his eyes going between his uncle and Daria. Then he bowed his head again. "I IMPLORE your forgiveness! Please give me another chance."

The old Dunmer stroked his chin. "Go you to Clan Dlera. The hetman is a friend of mine, and I know he has need of a warrior. Dlera, too, serves Serjo Llendu. Perform well, and perhaps he will hear your case."

A trembling Dimartani nodded. "I will. Thank you, uncle."

"Do not call me uncle any longer. Clan Hadrubal has moved beyond you, Andril. You can still earn your name, but it will not be here. Do you understand why you were exiled?"

"My gambling—"

"It is because we trusted you with our secrets. And you have now shown you cannot be trusted. Great House Redoran needs warriors, yes, but it needs loyalty far more. You may become a warrior again, and perhaps you will find redemption in death. You will never be a teacher."

Dimartani knelt for a while longer, his body shaking. He finally got to his feet, bowed, and turned away from his former uncle. Tears streamed from his eyes.

*********

A frigid wind blew as Daria gathered her things. It was noon, and the strider to Balmora had just reached the port. A forlorn Dimartani stood next to her.

"Sera Dimartani—"

"Please. Do not call me that anymore, Daria. I have LOST the right to the name. My original surname is Golthyn."

"Okay. Sera Golthyn, may I speak frankly?"

His lips turned up in a mirthless smile.

"I've NEVER known you to do otherwise."

"You risked your life to help Clan Hadrubal, and they got angry that you used some old coal for its intended purpose. They never planned to take you back."

She'd said it as plainly as she could. Above, the caravanner announced that his strider was ready for boarding.

"Perhaps you are right," Golthyn admitted.

"Great. If you ask me, you should find your old boyfriend. If he's anything like you, I'm sure he's also sick of this nonsense."

Golthyn chuckled sadly. "He IS like me, so I know he is not. I failed my clan, Daria. They are under no obligation to take me back."

"Even after you completed their task?"

He sighed, looking like her dad did when he had to explain something painful and difficult. "This isn't like some HLAALU contract. We Redoran are not transactional. No, I failed to ANTICIPATE my uncle's expectations."

"So, if we were to do it again, you wouldn't have burned the coal? You'd have let me stay cold when I was injured and exhausted?"

"No. I would have done the EXACT same thing. And I would accept my punishment again."

Daria blinked. "That doesn't make sense. You know you did the right thing—"

"I risked my HONOR to help you. As such, I must ACCEPT the consequences. Whatever they may be. Any Redoran warrior would do the same."

Another gust hit Daria, and she drew her cloak tighter around her. Whatever Dimartani's eccentricities, he stood by what he said. He would light the fire again and accept the punishment again, never bearing any rancor to her or his jackass uncle.

"This isn't the sort of thing I say lightly, but you might be too good for this world, Sera Golthyn."

"I have failed. But I would rather DIE failing Redoran than live serving Hlaalu."

Passengers already stepped onto the silt strider. She'd have to move quickly to get her space.

"Drenlyn Academy will be a lot less interesting without you around. If nothing else, I liked how you annoyed a lot of my peers and teachers."

"HA! Keep them on their TOES for me, Daria. Another thing."

"Yes?"

"I think Jane will forgive you. GIVE her a chance."

"Why should she? I'm part of the problem."

"EVERYONE is part of the problem, Daria. But we can strive to do better."

He'd keep on doing it, too. Even when it ended with him dead, trying to do some basic job for a community that cared nothing for him.

"I guess so," Daria said. "I hope things work out for you, Sera Golthyn. Of all the teachers in Drenlyn, you annoyed me the least."

He grinned. "You are SLIGHTLY less aggravating than your spoiled peers!"

She looked at him for a while longer, trying to fix his features in her memory. Then she turned away and walked up the ramp, not exactly ready to go home but no longer able to stay.

Musical Closer - The Soldiering Life, by The Decemberists

The End

Hey thanks, and I love getting comments from you. From everyone, really. It's why we're all here. We could write all these stories and merely save them to our hard drives (we already know what happens) but it's better to share.

So true about the bleakest of villages, or Ald'ruhn in this case, seeming welcoming after hours or days of ashlands. I have picked up Morrowind again, as I plan to continue Joan's tale. I still remember that one time she had to go to that far-out camp (Erabishium or however it's spelled) and she walked the entire way, without signposts and only vague directions in her journal. When she finally found the place it was SUCH a relief. Even though its inhabitants were semi-hostile and there was no immediate place to lay her head. That was so much better than miles and miles of ... just nothing.

You imagine there are bathhouses, that's a nice detail. Oh wow. Everyone stops what they're doing to salute these Redorans. That's really going beyond what we see in the game. A lot of Morrowind fans in the forums used to say how many more consequences and conflicts Morrowind had in comparison to Oblivion, and this story's going beyond even that.

Sheesh, he's getting uptight about some coal, what the hell?

I mean, seriously. Does Dimartani actually NEED to bow and grovel before these A-holes? Seems he's got a good life for himself going on in Balmora. See, Daria's right. I don't think Dimartani ever was going to be indoctrinated back into their stupid society.

Wait... Dimartani's not going back with her? He's staying there? Why? Does he not have the option of returning to Balmora and teaching there?

Off-topic, now. Maybe I'll spoiler-tag this to save space!



Anyway, if I ever do have somebody get interested in Redoran that's surely going to be an intense experience.

Wow, that Velo fellow is a real ashhole. I think Daria's right; those folks made up their mind to somehow 'fail' Dimartani even before he set out on their task. I’m glad Dimartani’s not back as part of them.

Daria has some brilliant insight here:
’Whatever Dimartani’s eccentricities, he stood by what he said. He would light the fire again and accept the punishment again, never bearing any rancor to her or his jackass uncle.’

I don’t understand him either, Daria, but there is indeed a certain honor and sense of duty about him.

So he’s going to stay in Ald’ruhn and she’s heading back to Balmora. With Jane gone and now her two times savior and almost friend Dimartani gone as well, Balmora’s gonna be a lonely place.

"Ashhole!" ....

So Sergio Venom is a big shot I see. Even in the meritocracy, there is an aristocracy. Good to see that some things never change.

Wow, what a bunch of dicks. Clearly those Hadrubalites were never going to let Mr. DiMartino back in. They were looking for the flimsiest excuse to drum him out. Definitely not Homies...

Whatever Dimartani’s eccentricities, he stood by what he said. He would light the fire again and accept the punishment again
Now that is a real Homie.

“EVERYONE is part of the problem, Daria. But we can strive to do better.”
Mr DiMartino continues to shine in this Episode. Hopefully some of this will sink into Daria's thick skull.

Episode 27: A Kiss to Build A Scream On

Chapter 1

Quinn Morgendorffer, first of her name (so far as she knew), finally had the world in her grasp. Well, maybe not the entire world, but she almost had Drenlyn Academy in her grasp, and that'd get the whole thing started, right? The boring old school was having an honest-to-goodness fashion show! Lli called it the "Pageant of Sartorial Splendor", but that basically meant the same thing.

Now, she could show everyone what she'd been doing. The hours observing people in the marketplaces—and not just in Balmora, because she'd totally spent some time in Caldera—and learning how different colors and textiles worked together. Quinn had ideas. Tons of them.

"Emergency Fashion Club meeting, guys!" she declared. Not that she needed to; Satheri, Tiphannia, Treads-on-Ferns, and Jeval already stood around her in the Drenlyn courtyard. Lli had just told everyone about the show, and that meant they had to start planning.

"This is so exciting!" Satheri squealed, practically jumping up and down.

"This is like… our time… to show… what we—" Tiphannia started.

"Gotta admit, I'm kind of ticked off that only girls can go on stage for this," Jeval said. "I've got some ideas, too."

"I know it's frustrating, Jeval," Quinn said, "but this could be like our first big step to becoming the Fashion Guild! And you'll be part of that!"

"Ohmigosh!" Satheri exclaimed. "I knew you'd get us there."

"Well, I haven't yet... but I totally will! It won't be easy. Synda and her little Haute Society will be competing in this too. But we can beat them!"

"They're so… gauche…" Tiphannia droned.

"They have a bit of a disadvantage, too," Treads-on-Ferns said. "They don't have anyone for the outlander bracket. We at least have a shot at winning both brackets."

"Exactly. Satheri Roweni?" Quinn said, drawing herself up.

Satheri looked at her with rapt eyes. "Yes?"

"As steward of the Fashon Club, I nominate you to run in our name for the Dunmer bracket of the Pageant of Sartorial Splendor!"

She gasped, and her hands flew up to her cheeks. Don't cry, Quinn thought; it'll mess up your kohl. Then Satheri threw her arms around Quinn and hugged her tight.

"Thank you so much for choosing me, Muthsera Morgendorffer!"

"I mean, you are the only Dunmer we have," Treads-on-Ferns said.

Quinn waved at Treads to get her to be quiet while she wiggled out of Satheri's grip.

"Between me, Tiphannia, and Treads-on-Ferns, the outlander bracket will be a cinch for the Fashion Club," Quinn said. "One of us is sure to win."

"Wait!" Satheri said. "If you guys are all in that bracket… I'll be up against all the Dunmer girls on my own!"

She made this weird whiny noise and started breathing in and out really fast.

"Satheri, it'll be okay!" Quinn said, trying to sound soothing. "You already look better than Synda and her loser friends."

"But… but I can't go against Synda. She… she…"

Satheri's eyes rolled up, and she dropped to the ground. Jeval lunged to catch her but missed, and they both fell in a heap.

The Empire wasn't built in a day, Quinn thought as she surveyed the scene. "Okay, so the first thing we're going to cover is how not to faint when you're on stage," she said.

*********

Daria crossed her arms as she watched the student body (Quinn chief among them) throw themselves into paroxysms of vanity.

"Drenlyn Academy, where you learn the important things, like how to conform to artificial standards of beauty set by fashion experts in Narsis and the Imperial City," she said, to no one in particular.

In the old days, Jane would have shot back with something witty. Something like, "At least Lli's letting us exercise some creativity. Fashion's not my thing, but it's a kind of art."

Daria blinked. How in the world had she imagined Jane saying that?

"A kind of art for people who are already beautiful and well-connected, or who don't care who they trample over to get to that state," she said. Her heart pounded.

Imaginary Jane shrugged. "I can't blame people for doing what they need to do to survive."

Daria shook her head. Getting this worked up over an imaginary conversation was a new low for her. Except that's probably what Jane would have said. Worse, she'd have been right to say it.

"Talking to yourself?" Tomal asked. She blushed at the sound of his voice and looked to see him striding toward her, hands in his coat pockets and a smile on his face that, for a moment, let her think everything would be okay.

"I don't blame you," he continued. "Sometimes that's the only way to get good conversation."

"Especially in this place. Nothing like a celebration of the superficial to make me want to become a hermit."

"Way I see it is, we get to watch our peers do ridiculous things in their desperate bids for attention. It's a comedy if you look at it the right way," Tomal said.

"I'd probably categorize it as a farce, but point taken." She relaxed a little. This felt right. "Anyway, it's lunchtime, so I'll probably hide in the library and pretend I'm in a place that values literacy."

And maybe, just maybe, he'd go with her. Whole days now went by without real conversation. The solitude she once loved now felt like torture, her thoughts bouncing around endlessly in her own head with nowhere to go.

"Good call, though I'm not sure the Drenlyn Library's selection is conducive to that illusion."

"It is by Balmora standards." Daria actually still rather liked the library's selection.

"Low expectations save the day again. I'd join you, but I have to head out. My dad wants me to help negotiate a contract this afternoon."

"Keeping the little guy down to get a good deal?"

"More like keeping a similarly big guy in his place, but the ultimate goal's the same. See you later!"

"Yeah, see you," she said.

He waved and headed out the gate. Daria watched him go, wishing he'd stick around a while longer and hating herself for doing so. Commoner-aristocrat romances were best confined to the cheesy novels that inspired them. Sure, they sometimes happened in real life, but always with complications. Besides, life never turned out as well as it did in stories.

It'd probably fade if she waited. She'd gotten over Trent soon enough.

She glanced around the courtyard, where the students were already broken up into their little cliques to talk about the fashion show. Other than Tomal, who in Drenlyn could she count as a friend? Briltasi, maybe, but Daria had nothing in common with her. Her only real option, currently standing by Director Lli's office, was Jolda, who'd been civil but distant ever since Daria's fight with her father. Daria didn't know how much, if any, fallout from the conflict had landed on Jolda's shoulders, though from what she knew it sounded like Jolda's parents put everything on her shoulders.

Bracing herself, she walked across the courtyard to Jolda, who glanced up as Daria approached.

"Uh, hi, Jolda," Daria said, not able to look her in the eyes.

"Hi. How are things?" She asked, her voice perfectly neutral.

What the hell was she supposed to say? "So, in hindsight, I'm realizing that I probably didn't act very wisely regarding your father's job offer."

"That's putting it mildly."

Still looking at the ground, Daria continued. "Anyway, I wanted to apologize. I was, uh, not in a very good mental state, and I hope you didn't get in any trouble for it."

Jolda shook her head. "I didn't. He's mad at you, not at me."

"Right." Daria nodded. "Good."

Standing before Jolda, Daria wondered how anyone ever made friends.

"Actually, Daria," Jolda said, "Lli's having me do a ton of the prep work for the pageant, and I could use some help."

Daria looked up. Normally, she'd shoot down the idea. But these were not normal times.

"Help me out, and I'll see if I can talk my dad down. I think he already filled your slot in the expedition, but he might have another opening. No promises, though."

"Uh, that's very generous. Since you don't owe me anything."

"You're right, I don't. But I do kind of like you, Daria. Even if that's sometimes against my better judgment."

Mom still didn't know that Daria had refused the offer and, in so doing, had probably ended any possibility of employment with the IAS. At the time, Daria had almost looked forward to the blistering lecture that mom would deliver once she found out (and she inevitably would). Now, she dreaded it more each day. Mom losing it in a big way would confirm Daria's fear: That in the end, everyone hated her.

"Okay. I'll do what I can to help out," she said, not quite believing the words she said.

Jolda smiled. "Great! So we'll be working every day after the Drenlyn noon classes up until Loredas. Can you be here for that?"

"Sure. It's not like I have anywhere better to be," she said.

Which was true.

Musical Closer - Harness Your Hopes, by Pavement

What a fun upcoming event for Quinn. It should let her bask right in her element. Satheri is a hoot and reminds me of a hyper puppy.

Daria, on the other hand is quite basking in her loneliness. At least she is taking some ameliorative steps. An imaginary Jane is better than no Jane. Tomal admires her blunt honesty and independent thought, so trying to cultivate his friendship is good. And she seems quite aware of the pitfalls that could accompany her crush on him. Trying to make amends with Jolda is a wise move that could benefit Daria in more ways than one. And Jolda does not seem at all a bad sort.

Quinn's plans for world domination are about to bear fruit! Muwhahaha! Tremble before me ye mighty, and despair!

Oh wait, it's a fashion show. Ok.

Uh oh, fashion club emergency meeting. This stuff is hot folks.

I love the meeting. I see Jeval is now in the club too! Good for him. Hopefully he will be able to compete in the future. We all deserve some man-candy to go with the hottie honies.

Okay, so the first thing we’re going to cover is how not to faint when you’re on stage,
Wise choice.

Oh boy, Daria is having imaginary conversations. This is... not good.

Well, at least that nice young lad Tom is there to make things better.

it sounded like Jolda’s parents put everything on her shoulders.
It certainly does. That woman is Tamriel's version of Atlas.

Wow, Jolda comes through. I knew I liked her for a reason. Hopefully Daria will not sabotage this as well.

True. And it's also more inspiring when others read and dig your material. Motivating.

My new illusionist is my first character who uses Mark & Recall. Wow, what a wonder! To be here, plan ahead to make sure you can come back to this same spot. I still enjoy walking 90% of the time, but it's going to be a novelty to be with someone who uses teleport spells. And BTW, she already met some Telvanni. Didn't exactly get a warm welcome from them.

Dimartani's loss, I guess. Hey, some ppl love banging their heads against walls, I guess. Bye bye, teacher. No more ALL CAPS, unless he's featured in a FUTURE cameo.



OH yeah, like totally she spent time in Caldera, too. Like, rully, she did. Cool, another "Emergency" fashion meeting. Last time, we didn't get to find out what constitutes an emergency. ⛑

I agree with Satheri. I'm totally stoked!

Oh absolutely not, Jeval. Dudes can go into fashion too. Right Quinn? Hmm, Quinn does not concur. But that's a falacy, that men cannot rock the catwalk. Perhaps things are different in uptight Vvardenfell, though.... Maybe he'd get jailed or something.

Tipphania is the gal who's sort of spacey, right?

And it's exciting that an Argonian is also a part of the guild. Because we might think: what can a walking, scaly lizard bring? But I'd imagine there's plenty of decorative options she can bring, especially for accessories, especially for that tail. Options which would not work for other humanoids.

This scene's humorous, Clav! You're really good with humor, as well as tragedy.

Uh oh, it's Tomal.



Damn, that's deep. Yeesh. Poor gal. I am glad she's taking up this oppurtunity with Jolda. Honestly I think it'd be a bad idea to go off to that Dwemer expedition... it's too far away.

Wow, I really like today's song. Never heard of this band, Pavement. Gosh the 90s were fun.

Chapter 2

With every second that Serjo Sloan dithered, Synda's future slipped a little further out of her hands. Not, she thought with some pride, that anyone would guess it by looking at her. She walked through Balmora's streets and markets with perfect posture and her head held high. Her soul trembled in terror, but she'd never add to her failures by showing fear to the rabble.

A good thing, too. The rabble was out in force that day, spilling out from Labor Town to protest taxes at the doorsteps of their betters. She did not so much as grant them the honor of an angry glare as she passed by.

She stopped briefly at the home of Nedrasa Leldro, the daughter of a slightly less respectable family and the majordomo of her Haute Society. As befitting Nedrasa's lower station, she gave Synda use of her mirror so that Synda could touch herself up for Serjo Sloan. Not that Nedrasa knew about Serjo Sloan. She only knew that there was a man and that Synda needed to be her best for him.

For her part, Synda knew that Nedrasa's father skimmed money from the city treasury. Nedrasa knew Synda knew, and this meant Synda could trust her with nearly anything. Leverage was the bond that brought them together, closer than sisters.

"He is honored to have you, Muthsera Grilvayn," Nedrasa had said, her head bowed. Synda said nothing. She held back the tears, resisted the urge to hug Nedrasa tight and thank her for saying she deserved him.

Instead, she continued applying foundation. She loved Nedrasa, but could not let Nedrasa forget her place. The world must think it owed Synda.

Once finished, Synda took her leave and waited for Serjo Sloan at the foot of the great stairway leading to High Town. Each passing moment squeezed her heart a little tighter until she feared it'd burst. Everything hinged on him telling his parents about their relationship and them accepting. They probably would. The Grilvayns weren't noble, but they were respectable. The Sloans were noble, but not always respectable. Clearly, the match made sense.

Serjo Sloan finally showed up, a hint of his inner louche manifesting itself in his messy hair and the relaxed ease of his walk. Gods, that annoyed her. It was the sort of thing his parents ought to have corrected. His years in the Imperial City had left their mark, and not for the better. She studied his face for signs of something different. Some hint that he'd finally made the move and secured her future.

Serjo Sloan didn't know the truth. That Synda's parents hated her, and with good reason. Her failure with the blackmail situation had rendered her unreliable, and Mother and Father talked (in secret, though she heard everything) about sending her away to a life of contemplation within the Tribunal Temple. In other words, a life spent groveling like a worm in the dirt. She'd worked too hard to let that happen.

"Serjo Sloan," she said, bowing her head. She smiled in that subtle way he seemed to like, as if she were letting him in on a secret.

"Sera Grilvayn," he replied. He arched his eyebrows, meaning he'd seen the smile. He still approved.

They fell in alongside each other as they climbed the stairs to High Town.

"Has serjo discussed my proposal with his father?" she asked.

Her stomach twisted like it did every time she asked that question. Because what if his father said no? With one casual refusal, he'd consign her to a lifetime of darkness and poverty without realizing it. He had no idea and never could know.

Serjo Sloan sighed. "Um, not yet."

With that came a curdled sense of relief. That at least she still had hope.

"Our marriage would benefit both of our families, Serjo Sloan. Though the Grilvayns are not wealthy, our name is in high regard, something that might be useful, considering how much time you spend with outlanders."

"Do we need to talk about this right now?" he asked. "It's a beautiful day; we're outside, and we have the entire city at our disposal!"

Damn you a hundred times over, she thought, fury blazing in her chest. He had everything, and she only had him! "The city's hardly at our disposal when we have to, like, hide our love."

"Right, we still have to be careful," he conceded. "But this isn't the place to talk about it."

He was right. A public street in High Town was certainly not the appropriate place. But at least that'd pressure him. Gods, if only she had blackmail. Surely, the Sloan family held all kinds of scandals. Anything to grab onto, to pull herself out of this ordeal and finally breathe easy for a little while.

"Why not? You do plan to marry me. Right?" She raised her volume a bit. Let the world hear.

"I never said that. Look, it hasn't even been a year since we met."

"Almost a year. Eleven months, to be precise," she corrected.

"Okay, fine. Eleven months. But marriage lasts for centuries. I'm just saying it'd be prudent if we waited a bit longer before committing."

She sniffed. "Then we should get betrothed. Betrothal is like, a testing period."

It'd also get both families involved. Momentum might then take its course and make marriage all but inevitable.

She stepped closer to him, let her hand brush against his. "We're Dunmer. We'll make it work."

"Synda, this is moving too fast for me. How long did your parents know each other before they were married?"

"Their marriage was arranged," she said.

"Yeah, same with my folks," he admitted.

"Then what's the problem? As Dunmer, it's our duty to marry and produce children," she said. "I am surprised that you'd be so cavalier, given your lofty position."

"I'm eighteen years old; this is the one time in my life I can afford to be cavalier!" he protested. "Besides, my parents were past their first century when they had me."

Did such carelessness run in their family? Doubtless, it stemmed from too much exposure to outlander ways.

"What if something happens to you? Someone must carry on the Sloan name. You owe that to Great House Hlaalu."

"You sound like one of my dad's advisors. Why can't you act like a girlfriend?" he demanded.

"This is what a good Dunmer girlfriend acts like! Maybe that's not what you're used to after the girls of the Imperial City," she said. She made her voice break at the end, as if about to cry, only for the tears to actually flow.

She was losing him. Losing her future.

"I don't like all this talk about my family. Right now, we're two young people with time and money. Let's enjoy that while we can," he said.

Synda was silent for a moment, holding back further tears. "Whatever you wish, Serjo Sloan. I'm actually needed at the Hlaalu Council Manor today."

Not true. But she didn't want to go home. With any luck, they'd have something for her to do over there.

"Right," he said. "I guess I'll get going then. Have a good day."

Panic bubbled up within her, breath hissing between her teeth as her lungs frantically pumped. No, no, no, she was Synda Grilvayn, daughter and first child of Tamric and Lynda Grilvayn, a virtuous Dunmer maiden who'd strived all her life to be better, to be adorned in gold and finery, and be obeyed for her strength and virtue and it could not end now.

She turned around to face him. "By the way, I will be participating in Drenlyn's pageant with the rest of the Haute Society."

Should she prompt him to go? No, he needed to make that decision on his own. She held her breath and watched, her head pounding.

He had to say yes!

"Oh. Uh, I'll definitely come over to see it. To see you, I mean."

Synda exhaled. That was apparently the best she'd get for now. Winning the pageant—which she would do—was sure to make her more worthy. "I would be honored by your presence, serjo," she said.

Enough weakness. She'd shown too much that day. Standing straight and perfect, for her station demanded no less, she walked with careful steps to the Hlaalu Council Manor as panic devoured her from within.

Musical Closer - Love Will Tear Us Apart, by Joy Division

Very fun to read as I enjoyed watching Synda squirm and plot only to be blown off. Synda’s internal thoughts are every bit as shrewish as one could imagine and I would not wish her on anyone. I think Tomal is wise enough to avoid such a fate. Hmm, I suspect Daria once again becoming the target of Synda’s scheming ire as I imagine she will perceive Daria as competition.

I think Synda is going to have to get used to disappointment where Tom is concerned. He might go through the motions for the sake of propriety, but in the end that is just never going to happen.

Wow, her life is so incredibly toxic. The very foundations of her relationships are built upon corruption, power, and privilege. If only she could blackmail herself into marriage. Sheesh!

Chapter 3

Helping with pageant preparations turned out to be less annoying than Daria had expected. Most of the time, anyway. Going over expense accounts, arranging the schedule, and so forth, was fine. She couldn't dispel her unease, though. Not long ago, she'd have vented out all her fears to Jane and, in doing that, come up with a solution, or at least kept her fears at bay. Now, simply thinking about that reminded her that she'd probably never talk to Jane again.

Maybe she could talk to Tomal. An absurd idea on the face of it. Not like he'd ever suffered real trouble. In truth, she only wanted to see that smile of his, so sure and unflappable. A comforting reminder that nothing mattered all that much, so why worry?

Jonus and Julien walked up to the small pavilion that Daria used as an office. Jolda was off at the Mages Guild trying to secure the use of smokeless lights for the show, leaving Daria to hold down the fort.

"Yes?" she asked, already suspecting why they were there.

"Uh, me and Julien fixed the poster the way you wanted us to."

"Hopefully you followed basic directions this time," she said. "Hand it over."

Jonus did, and Daria laid it out on her desk.

Come One, Come All to the Pageant of Sartorial Splendor at Drenlyn Academy!

Good, she thought. No spelling errors so far.

The Gorgeous Girls of Drenlyn Academy will be Showing their Style this Loredas Evening! See What They Wear! It's the Future of Fashion—Today!

She shook her head and slashed out the more questionable words. "This is a fashion show, not a peep show," she said.

Jonus shrugged. "I mean, the only reason any of us guys are going is to check out the chicks."

"Yes, but we also want girls to attend. So it might not be wise to alienate half the potential audience by leering at them," she said. "And maybe lay off on the exclamation points."

Entry Fee is Five Septims Per Person. All Funds Raised Go Toward School Maintenance.

Okay, they hadn't screwed that part up. That was about it, except for some small writing in the lower right-hand corner. She peered in for a closer look, adjusting her lenses to make sense of the cramped letters.

Quinn you're the most beautiful girl in Drenlyn! Will you please go out with me!

- Jonus

She sighed and massaged her forehead. "Jonus, do you know what a conflict of interest is?"

He was silent for a moment. "Yes."

"Then you understand why it's a problem for you to endorse my sister on a poster that needs to be impartial to the contestants?"

His eyes looked from side to side, like an animal that sensed it was walking into a trap but lacked the intelligence to comprehend the situation. "Uh, yeah. Totally."

Julien blinked. "Wait, you endorsed Quinn? That's what I was going to do! But I was going to write it in after Daria approved, dummy!"

Jonus looked down at his feet. "Oh, yeah."

"Also," Daria added, "you shouldn't end questions with exclamation marks. My sister's a real stickler for punctuation."

Jonus flinched. "Okay, okay, let me fix it—"

Daria pulled the parchment back. "I don't think so. This is the second time you bozos have screwed up a very simple assignment, so I'll handle it from here."

Julien threw his hands in the air. "You messed it up, Jonus!"

"Hey, at least I was trying!"

Daria tuned the two idiots out and began working on an alternative poster. The pageant was only a few days away, and the poster ought to have been out at the beginning of the week. At least Jolda had hired some competent criers to spread the word.

Jonus and Julien went off to settle their quarrel somewhere else. The sun had begun its descent by the time Jolda returned.

"I fired Jonus and Julien and finished the mockup myself," Daria said.

"What happened?" Jolda asked.

"They seemed to be under the impression that the purpose of the poster was to impress Quinn. I disabused them of this notion."

Jolda chuckled. "Sorry you had to deal with that. I'm amazed your sister has the patience for them."

"She has patience for anything that gets her attention, hence her enthusiastic participation in the pageant," Daria said. "How did the negotiations go?"

Jolda moved her head from side to side. "Not as well as they could have, but we're still within budget."

"I'm heartened to know that Lli is able to meet minimum safety standards while being as cheap as possible."

"Something like that," Jolda said as she walked into the tent and rifled through the records.

Daria hesitated. Did she want to ask if Jolda had talked to her dad about Daria's job prospects? Because if Armand was still mad, the night of the pageant would go from an annoyance to an ordeal. Mom was going to be there to support Quinn, and she'd almost certainly meet Armand and hear all about Daria's latest bridge-burning escapade.

"Uh, by any chance, did you talk with your dad about me?" Daria finally asked, forcing the words out of her throat.

"I haven't yet." Jolda turned to face Daria, her limpid eyes and faint smile giving her a slightly too practiced look. "I promise I will."

"Appreciated, but this does need to be before the pageant. Which is the day after tomorrow."

"My dad's at Moonmoth meeting with some government reps. He'll be back on Loredas morning, and I can talk to him then."

More likely, Daria thought, you didn't want to talk to him until I did all this damned busywork. But she kept her suspicion to herself. Besides, it didn't actually seem like something Jolda would do.

"You know, Daria, it might help me if I knew a little more about why you got into that big fight with my dad."

Daria raised her eyebrows. "He's not exactly shy about making his opinions known. He didn't rant to you about it at length?"

"Not exactly. He said something about you being self-righteous."

That stung. "Hm. I did object to some of the ways that the Empire uses the IAS."

"I remember you voicing your criticisms back in Arkngthand," Jolda said. "But if it bothers you that much, maybe the IAS isn't for you."

"Maybe. At this point, I just want you to smooth things over so that my mom doesn't get on my case. My goal is to keep her thinking that I'm still looking for ways to advance myself."

Jolda sighed and sounded almost disappointed. Daria narrowed her eyes. "What? Are my motives too self-serving for your liking?" she asked. "I thought you'd be used to that after working with Director Lli for so long."

"Don't give me that, Daria," Jolda said, crossing her arms.

"Okay, sorry." Alienating one of the last people still on her side wasn't a wise move, though part of her wanted to do it anyway. Why not, at this point?

"It's all right. But if you don't approve of the IAS, there probably isn't a way to get you and my dad on the same page. Assuming that's truly the reason you were angry."

Feeling exposed, Daria lowered her gaze. She didn't want to admit the real reason she'd gone off on Armand. Her motivation had been idiotic.

"I'll admit that I was dealing with some personal issues," Daria said. "Maybe some of the stress carried over to the interview."

"Was it something with Jane?"

Daria glared at Jolda and narrowed her eyes. "I have a life outside of Jane, you know."

That was probably a lie, she realized.

Jolda raised her hands. "Not saying you don't. Okay, so you were having a bad day. That happens. How about this? I'll tell him that you felt a little overwhelmed."

Which, Daria realized, was true. But she hated that idea. She'd never been a sentimentalist. The small-minded hicks in Charach had taught her the harsh truth of things early on, and she'd accepted their lesson with cool-eyed clarity. The world didn't care about her, so she'd return the favor tenfold. But somehow, against all logic, she now did care. And caring about the world created so many more ways for it to hurt her.

"I'm not sure your dad would be too keen on an easily overwhelmed archeologist," Daria said.

"What do you want me to say, then?"

Daria thought about it a bit but came up with nothing. "Go ahead. I guess I can stand your dad thinking I'm occasionally soft-headed, so long as it gets me out of trouble."

"I'll do what I can," Jolda said. "I promise."

Daria said nothing. She swallowed her bitterness and wished she was still the hard-hearted little girl she'd been back in Charach: Cold, smart, and safe.

Musical Closer - If I Only Had A Heart, by Ozma

It's funny that the parts Daria minds the least - the logistics like scheduling and accounting - are the parts that most people absolute loathe. You know, the boring parts. That is so Daria.

Daria talking to Tom about it. That is going to go over so well with Sydna being his soon to be ex girlfriend.

Is Jolda going to bring back some of the those light crystals that the Ayleids used in their ruins? Well, they were using them before they became ruins. Or maybe some of those Dwemer gas/electric lights (not sure what they run on).

Love the little bit added by Jonus! He is so never going to get anywhere with Quinn...

Moonmoth always makes me think of Monmouth, and the battle there. Not to mention Moonmouth, which makes me think the fort is going to eat people.

“Not exactly. He said something about you being self-righteous.”
That would be quite accurate.

But somehow, against all logic, she now did care. And caring about the world created so many more ways for it to hurt her.
January can relate. She and Daria just go about dealing with it in vastly different ways.

Jonus and Julien still trying to impress Quinn. . . .

C’mon, Daria – Jolda is trying to help, in spite of you trying to alienate her. At least you realize that you are alienating her. If Jolda’s going to advocate for you, you have to give her something to work with. Your mom, the lawyer, would tell you that as well.

There's an epilogue... All good things must come to an end, but still.



It's more than distance though. My sister went to school in England for a year, for instance. She was a stewardess for awhile too, flying all over the world. I moved to California in my 20s and later to Oregon in my 30s. But in all these cases, I never had to worry about finding work in a dark, dangerous location packed with animated automatons! On the way to these destinations, I didn't have to worry about getting attacked by giant creatures!

I'm just saying that Daria's not really the right candidate for that sort of thing. Arkngnthand was different. It is close by, with people she knew from her everyday life. Anyway...

"Hey, let me use your mirror."

"Uh, what for?"

"Yours is not to question me, peasant. Mirror, now!"

Just paraphrasing.... but Synda's motives take presedence, even to freshen up her looks. Ah. But it's really about the fact that this Nedrasa knows Synda can blackmail her father. But Synda's feeling really bad in side. She wants to tell Nedrasa (whom I just referred to as 'peasant') but can't. Because she doesn't want her to know she's actually got feelings. Wow, what a complicated scene.

Anyway, I don't think this is gonna go well with Tomal Sloan.



She's not in love with him. If she were, she'd overlook this sort of thing, perhaps. Maybe be endeared by it. But actually, this isn't above love (from her perspective).

Meanwhile (goodness) Daria can't stop thinking about the Big Mer!

Jonus put his deepest desires on a poster everyone in Balmora's gooing to see? Ah, geez.

Chapter 4

"Okay, let's go back to basic breathing," Quinn said.

Satheri gulped and nodded. Then she opened her mouth and breathed in and out, sounding like a punctured bellows.

"No, Satheri! Breathe through your nose! Come on, you know this."

Quinn didn't get it. She'd never seen Satheri so nervous! Worst of all, the pageant was in a few days. She'd been so busy trying to help Satheri that she'd barely had time to figure out her own routine.

"Right. Through my nose... Oh my gosh, Quinn, I don't think I'm ready for this!"

"Satheri, you're fine. You're way cuter and more stylish than any of the other girls competing." Quinn almost added "in your bracket" but stopped herself. No, Satheri needed to believe she was the most stylish girl in the whole freaking world for the next few days.

"Green eyeshadow… looks weird… on me…" Tiphannia droned, looking at herself in Satheri's honest-to-goodness glass mirror. The pageant was a big deal, so Quinn had called for daily meetings. This one was at Satheri's house. Treads-on-Ferns hadn't shown up yet, which was kind of worrisome since Treads hadn't been to yesterday's either.

Satheri sniffed. "It's just, well, I have to compete against girls from good families, Quinn."

"But you're from a good family, too! The Rowenis are like super-rich."

Satheri looked down at her feet.

"Eyes up, Satheri!"

"Right! Sorry!" Her head shot up, and the poor girl's eyes bulged in a way that did not look good. "I'm scared about competing against some of the other girls, like—"

The door swung open, and Treads-on-Ferns stepped in with Jeval. "Hi, sorry, we're late."

"Treads, don't you think Satheri's like the cutest Dunmer girl in Drenlyn?" Quinn prompted.

"I have to admit, I'm still a little hazy on what Men and Mer see as cute—"

Quinn glared. "Treads!"

Gods, sometimes Treads was as bad as Daria!

"Sorry! Way cuter," Treads agreed.

"The cutest," Jeval said.

Treads cleared her throat. "Uh, Quinn? Look, I hate to spring this on you at the last second, but I'm not going to compete."

Quinn's jaw dropped. "But why? Oh my gosh, guys, we cannot fall apart this close to the pageant!"

"Maybe… I should use… red… eyeshadow… instead…" Tiphannia said.

"Sorry, but I've made up my mind."

Quinn hurried over to Treads. "But you'd be so good on stage!"

"I know. Here's the thing: I'm the only Argonian in Drenlyn Academy. Nobody there looks like me. Nobody there thinks I'm pretty."

"Fashion transcends beauty, Treads. And I'm sure Argonian guys would be like falling over themselves for a chance with you."

"Thanks. But you know there aren't any Argonian guys in Drenlyn, and I don't want to draw attention to myself. Frankly, there are some folks who'll hate to see any Argonian on stage."

Quinn looked at her friend. Really looked at her. She still wasn't good at reading Treads' expressions, but she could tell Treads meant this. She also knew that a lot of people—a lot of Dunmer, especially—hated Argonians.

She couldn't do that to Treads. She or Tiphannia could still win the outlander bracket without her. But they needed Satheri for the Dunmer bracket.

"It's okay, Treads. It sucks that things are like that." She hugged Treads, feeling her soft fine scales pressing against her cheek.

"Wait, guys!" Satheri said. "It's not fair for us to compete when Treads-on-Ferns can't. Maybe none of us should do the pageant. In like…" she trailed off.

Oh, great! Quinn disengaged from Treads. She needed to fix this, and fast!

"Solidarity?" Treads asked.

"Yeah, solitaire!" Satheri pressed her teeth together in this creepy fake grin. "There, all settled!" she said, her teeth still clenched.

Treads shook her head. "Hold on; I don't want you guys to give up. This is my choice, and I made it for me. Besides, Satheri, I'd love for you to show up Synda. You totally could, too."

"We'll win for you, Treads!" Quinn promised.

Satheri made a noise stuck somewhere between a squeak and a scream.

"What about…" Tiphannia said, "violet… eyeshadow…"

*********

By Fredas, Synda was exhausted. Not that it mattered. There was no shame in exhaustion so long as it stayed hidden.

Each day passed in a haze of style experimentation. Her reflection paraded across her full-length copper mirror in each of the hundreds of combinations of gowns and accessories. She tied her hair into a thousand new styles until the strands no longer obeyed her numbed fingers. When she saw how she looked—face slathered in paint, her locks askew—she'd fall to her knees and pray to Mother Alma for mercy because she had no other hope.

"Make Serjo Sloan love me! Then Mom will forgive me!" She'd cried out, pressing her face against the floor.

It'd be decided at the pageant, she was sure. Serjo Sloan would either see her and deem her an acceptable wife, or he would not.

She went to Drenlyn early on Fredas morning. The protestors had come in force to the riverside markets, a festering mass of the intermittently washed and mostly foreign-born. Her contempt for them provided a far better mask than the cosmetics that only imperfectly hid the dark circles beneath her eyes. No matter how far she fell, she'd always be above them.

Magistrate Lli had done well in preparing campus for the next day's pageant. A wooden stage stood in the courtyard, along with rows of benches. Synda took note of all the details: Where she'd walk, how many (more or less) would see her, and so forth. She caught sight of Satheri walking into the campus, as slight and frightened as always. A joyful little surge of cruelty welled up in Synda's chest. At least she could keep Satheri in her place.

"Satheri," she said, casting the naïve young girl in her coldest glare.

"Oh! Sera Grilvayn! You honor me with your presence." She looked up at Synda, the fear in her eyes making Synda feel like a giant. "I was actually kind of hoping we could talk?"

"Then talk," Synda said, stern and patient, as was proper for a lady of her station.

"Um, I'm going to be competing against you tomorrow. But please don't take that as any kind of challenge to the Grilvayns!" She made a high-pitched giggle. "It's just a silly little school fashion contest, anyway."

"Silly though it may be, the positions of our various families cannot help but be taken into account," Synda said. "Perhaps this is why Briltasi chose not to compete. As she is highborn, we would be obligated to lose to her."

"I'm not sure this is the same—"

"Oh, Satheri, it is!" Synda said, relishing the false concern in her voice. This girl was so simple. Synda's to break, to shape, to remold. Satheri would be a fine daughter if she only had a bit of spine. "I am sure that you will remember my family's position tomorrow."

"Oh!" she gasped. "Yes. Of course. I'm only doing this because Muthsera Morgendorffer wants me to. I won't get in your way."

"Good. Don't worry. I still haven't told Quinn how you truly feel about outlanders like her." Nor was Quinn the worst of that bunch, Synda thought. "Her and that disgusting lizard she keeps around."

"Treads is… uh… but I didn't know what it meant to burn those flowers, Sera Grilvayn!" Satheri said, somehow managing to shrink even more. She looked like some helpless scrib trying to curl into itself to escape a predator. Synda smelled blood in the air and smiled.

"Perhaps not, but you proved yourself to be a true daughter of Morrowind that day. Perhaps we shall again gather heather for the bonfires."

Satheri gulped.

"Has our conversation been to your satisfaction?" Synda asked.

"Yes, Sera Grilvayn," she said.

"Good."

Muscles locked from tension and anxiety suddenly relaxed, and Synda let herself smile as Satheri scurried away. She still had power. She still had life.

Maybe it was time to set things in motion.

She found Karl the Unctuous looking through some papers behind the stage. Magistrate Lli had, for some incomprehensible reason, decided he'd be the event's announcer. It at least made him potentially useful.

"Karl," she said.

"Ah, what's this?" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "I'm at your disposal, Muthsera Grilvayn."

She resisted the urge to strike him for failing to understand Dunmer honorifics. "I want you to make an announcement when I come on stage tomorrow."

"Hmm, an intriguing request! But what do I get out of it?"

"Your father will get an ally in a very high place, which will benefit you as well."

His leer faded. "Interesting. Go on."

The greed of outlanders knew no bounds. He'd never understand how much the Grilvayns had fought and bled and worked over the centuries to ensure her position. Her ancestors had earned this foreign upstart's obedience. But she stayed calm.

"When I walk on stage—not a moment sooner—introduce me as the daughter of Tamric and Lynda Grilvayn, and as the beloved of Serjo Tomal Sloan."

Karl's eyes widened. "I see. I trust Serjo Sloan knows about this?"

"Of course," Synda lied. "I'd never be so gauche as to do this without his permission."

"Right. So you won't mind if I ask him myself?"

She huffed. "Do not insult me, outlander. When I am among the Sloans, I will be in a position to offer great opportunity to the East Empire Company in Balmora."

"Yes, well, the Sloans don't work with the company—"

"And as Serjo Sloan's future wife, I can change that," Synda said. "Your father will get credit for bringing the Sloans into the fold, and I'm sure he'll be grateful to you. But again, I do not tolerate insult or doubt. You must decide now."

Karl tented his fingers. "Hmm, I have always enjoyed a good gamble."

"It's hardly a gamble when the payoff is guaranteed," she said.

"However!" Karl interjected. "You're on your own if Serjo Sloan is upset with this. I am, after all, merely a humble announcer, powerless to do more than occasionally embellish my scripts."

She sniffed. "Of course."

"If there's a problem, I'll simply say you set me up for it. Your people don't expect much from clueless outlanders like me, but they do have expectations for proper ladies like yourself," he said, an oily smile spreading across his freckled face.

Synda considered her options. At this point, she no longer had any. "There won't be a problem," she said.

He bowed his head. "Marvelous doing business with you. I'm sure it'll be even more marvelous once you marry into the Sloans."

The bell rang, the sound thick and doleful in the cool morning air. She turned away from Karl without another word. The events had already been set in motion. It was a gamble, but the Dunmer did not fear risk. Her ancestors had traversed desert and jungle to reach Morrowind. The holy Tribunal had dared to make themselves gods. The Dunmer people had wrenched a paradise from desolation through grit and righteous cruelty. Synda's plan was simply the latest example of a long and proud tradition.

Musical Closer - Musician, Please Take Heed, by God Help the Girl

Quinn’s meeting was a hoot! Everyone was so very much in character and the way you played them off each other was superb. Quinn is struggling but really skilled at trying to hold them all together. Satheri is freaking out from anxiety and lack of self confidence. Treads makes some fair points about being an Argonian but does fall in line trying to buck up Satheri. And Tiphannia is obliviously Tiphannia.

Then we spend some time inside the nasty darkness that is Synda’s head. The only thing that improved her mood was some time berating poor Satheri. I looked up the word entitled in the dictionary and, sure enough, there was a picture of Synda. Oh my. It is with pleasure that I anticipate her proposed announcement that she is the beloved of Tomal will absolutely backfire on her. You’ve really done a good job with Synda. We love to hate her but, at the same time, understand that some of who/what she is has been forged by her family and culture. That, combined with what I believe to be her natural inclination toward shrewishness, scheming at the expense of other and downright cruelty, have combined to create quite a villain.

Back to basic breathing. Not what I was expecting. Ok, so this is Satheri, and her insecurities about being in the spotlight. Yeah, she needs training. But if anyone can prepare you for being the center of attention, it is Quinn.

Hmmm, where is Treads?

The Tribunal forbid that Treads be as bad as Daria!

And Tiphanna is in the background so completely self-absorbed that she has no awareness of the drama unfolding around her.

Sydna is - as ever - a pleasure to spend time with.

UpChuck is back! I have been wondering where has gotten to with his slimy self.

Oh boy, Sydna's is going to find that stunt with Tom is soo going to backfire on her... Now I am starting to look forward to this.

Quinn's trying to be supportive while Satheri's having fits while Tiphannia seems stoned or something! The Argonian is a no-show. Believe it or not, this is how it goes in the fashion world sometimes. My grandma owned a studio long ago in Baltimore. I never participated in any shows myself (well... I was forced to when I was really young) but I remember how intense it could be behind the scenes. Quinn's having to keep it all together; she's supposed to be the rock.

Uh oh, Treads is dropping out. This cannot be! Come on Quinn, get this lizard back in line!

I get it, though. Thing is, it'd definitely be scary being up on stage parading around, if you're the only example of a particular race, and you KNOW plenty of others hate your kind. Oh well.

Tiphannia's still worried about her stupid eyeshadow!

And Synda seems as though she's trying way too hard, once again. I swear that girl... this is all going to backfire on her.

Whoa.. I really like today's song. 'God Help the Girl'? That's the name of this musical group? Or the name of the song? Lords, this is nice. I really like when the beat kicks in. Listen to these lyrics! These harmonies! I must depart to visit my favorite MP3 site, now!

Chapter 5

The setting sun smoldered as the Morgendorffers arrived for the Pageant of Sartorial Splendor.

"I'm sure this will be an interesting evening!" Mom said, using that slightly falsetto voice she always used when praising something she didn't actually like.

"In the same way that torture is interesting," Daria said.

"Come on, kiddo!" Dad said. "You worked on this too, didn't you?"

"I did work hard, which is why I think I should be rewarded with a quiet night home."

More specifically, a quiet night away from where Mom and Armand would likely meet. Her future balanced on a knife's edge. Best-case scenario: Jolda had smoothed everything over, and Daria could go on doing… What, exactly? Sign up for the IAS and count gears for the rest of her life? Hang around Balmora doing nothing?

Worst-case scenario: Armand was still mad and would tell Mom that Daria had sunk her single best chance at gainful employment. It wasn't something Mom could easily forgive. But maybe it didn't matter. Sooner or later, everyone hated her, so she might as well get it out of the way.

Quinn and her lackeys huddled near the stage in their flashiest outfits. Quinn had spent hours getting her hair and dress—her blue one but gussied up with a bunch of insect-shell accoutrements around the collar and hem—just right.

Quinn's voice drifted through the smoggy air. "Okay, guys, we can do this!"

The words jabbed Daria like spears. Everything came so damned easily to Quinn.

Mom and Dad had started talking with some of the other parents, so Daria ambled over to one of the food vendors and bought a handful of roasted beetles wrapped in a hackle-lo leaf, barely noticing the tangy succulence as she scarfed it down.

"Hey, Daria!"

It was Tomal, dressed up as always. Maybe this night wouldn't be a total waste.

"Hey," she said, her cheeks suddenly warm. Hearing his voice lightened the load. "What brought you to this den of depravity?"

"I see it as part of my responsibility to bear witness to civilization's gradual descent into howling barbarism. That and get away from my dad talking about Heartlands investment opportunities. What about you? I figured you'd have fled this venal superficiality in favor of your hermitage."

She smiled at that.

"I am partially responsible for all this venal superficiality," she said, gesturing to the stage. "Helped go over the expense sheets and everything. I hope that doesn't shatter your image of me."

"On the contrary, Daria. That's what I like about you. You're not afraid to embrace the horror."

"Mindless busywork can be a good way of avoiding uncomfortable introspection."

"There you go!"

"Are Lord and Lady Sloan here?" Daria asked.

Tomal shook his head. "I sneaked off on my own. Thought it might be fun to see all this desperate social climbing."

Easy for you to say, Daria thought. Then she wondered if Jane had thought the same thing about some of Daria's own jokes. Looked like that uncomfortable introspection was more stubborn than she'd have liked.

The sun's last livid rays vanished into the west. Arcane light sprang to life a moment later, nestled in orbs of tempered glass that glowed with soft yellow warmth amidst the smoky darkness.

"Actually," Tomal said, "this is my last night in Balmora."

Daria's heart skipped a beat. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

"And you're spending it doing this?" she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Make it a joke, she thought. It can't hurt if it's a joke.

"There are a few other people in Drenlyn I need to say goodbye to," he said. "Uh, business reasons, basically. I've been too busy helping out at home to come here for the past few days."

"Huh. Is Balmora too humble for the refined Sloans?"

"My mom's scared of the protests. Personally, I think she's overreacting, but she talked my dad into going back to Ravil Manor out in the countryside. We're leaving tomorrow morning."

That was that. Daria swallowed the lump in her throat. One disappointment after another. No, she wasn't going to cry like some lovestruck kid. Tomal was a noble. He'd be trouble anyway. Better for her to be alone.

"In that case, I hope you have a safe journey," she said.

"Thanks."

Taking a deep breath, she left to rejoin her parents.

"Hey, Daria?" Tomal said.

She considered pretending she hadn't heard. Except she burned to know what else he wanted to say.

"Yeah?" She turned back to face him, wanting to run her fingers through his hair.

"I'm glad we ran into each other. Honestly, you're the most interesting person I met in Balmora."

"That's setting the bar pretty low, isn't it?"

"How about you're one of the most interesting people I've ever met, period? I wish we could have had more time to know each other."

Damn you for saying that, Daria thought.

"Yeah, uh, you seem pretty interesting yourself. Uh, I better go back to my parents."

The lights from the Mages Guild were reliable, but not strong. Daria was glad for that, since it meant no one could see the tears running down her cheeks. Still reeling from Tomal's news, Daria didn't see Jolda until she was almost on top of her.

"Daria, I'm sorry... I thought I'd talked my dad down!"

Stunned, Daria stared.

Jolda continued. "I brought it up when he came home this morning. He said he'd think about giving you another chance and didn't seem angry about it or anything. But on the way here, he started complaining about you again. I'm sorry—"

"Is your dad here?" Daria asked.

"At the entrance. I ran in to find you."

Daria nodded.

"Are you going to be okay? If you want, I can—"

"It's fine, Jolda," Daria said, feeling strangely numb.

She might as well let it happen at this point.

*********

Quinn brushed her hair one last time. The show was about to start. Outlanders first, and Dunmer after. Director Lli and the other judge, whom Lli said was a middle-ranking Hlaalu, would be there to ruthlessly go over each decision she and the other girls had made. It'd be tough. But if they'd made the right choices? Sure, a little school pageant show wasn't much. A victory here didn't get them that much closer to being a guild.

It'd be a start, though.

"You two ready?" Treads-on-Ferns asked.

"I am," Quinn said.

She looked over to Tiphannia, who was absolutely gorgeous in the rose-colored moth-silk gown Quinn had picked for her. What really stood out was her headdress, made up of a bunch of flowers and a pair of horns. Traditional Keptu-quey garb, according to her. It looked a little strange. And also amazing, Quinn had decided.

"Tiphannia's definitely ready," she added.

Which only left…

"Satheri?"

Satheri stepped out of the shadows. Instead of the dress they'd decided on, she wore that boxy dark blue one that Quinn had kept trying to talk her into throwing away, and barely had any makeup on! Not that Satheri needed makeup—she was cute enough to go without—but the whole point of the pageant was to look better than your best.

"Uh, hi, Muthsera Morgendorffer!" she said, and giggled. Not the happy kind of giggle, but the kind of giggle Satheri made when she tried not to freak out.

"What's going on? Was something wrong with the dress we picked?"

She shook her head. "Uh, sorry. Something happened to it. Yeah."

"What happened to it? You should have told me! My yellow dress would look great on you."

Satheri shrank back. "I'll, uh, tell you later."

Quinn's heart sank. She'd seen the other Dunmer girls, all decked out in their absolute best. Satheri didn't stand a chance.

Why had she done this?

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Karl's voice rang out from the front of the stage. "It is my humble honor to present the stylish and visionary young ladies of Drenlyn Academy in our first ever Pageant of Sartorial Splendor…"

Quinn straightened up. Nothing to be done about it now. They could still win the outlander bracket.

*********

The problem with doomsday is that it never happened soon enough.

Daria sat between her mom and dad as the outlander girls paraded across the stage. Karl opened with a florid introduction for each contestant. Then the girl would say a few words about what she wore and why she'd selected it. Then the judges asked a few easy questions.

Armand and his family sat on the bench across the aisle from the Morgendorffers. Mom had spotted them just before the show had started, which made an encounter inevitable.

So Daria sat and waited. Quinn got her moment on stage. She earned applause from Mom and loud cheers from Dad.

The family's future rested on Quinn. Daria was already spent and used up. Sure, the IAS wasn't everything, but it had been her best shot. Maybe she was too weird to fit in anywhere. Once upon a time, she'd have been proud of that fact. Now it only made her sad.

Quinn stepped off, and Karl walked on, a broad grin on his face.

"So ends the first half of the Pageant of Sartorial Splendor! We've watched these outlander ladies bring styles from all over the Empire to our humble stage. After our break, we'll have a chance to see the styles coming from the heart of Morrowind itself!"

Audience members stood up and stretched. Daria's heart lurched in her chest.

"I thought Quinn looked great, didn't you?" Dad asked.

"She did! She's in her element tonight," Mom said. "Oh, Daria, let's go talk to Armand. Maybe he'll be more open about taking you on at the IAS."

"Uh…"

"Armand!" Mom called out her voice cheery.

Armand already walked toward Mom, his expression guarded. Jolda, still seated, gave Daria an apologetic look.

It's not like Daria hadn't been scolded before. She remembered how disappointed Mom had been after the fracas at the Mages Guild. This would be worse. She couldn't flee to Jane's house the way she used to.

"Hey, I'm going to grab a bite to eat," Dad said. "Be back in a jiff!"

Mom and Armand were talking. She couldn't hear the words over the noise of the crowd, but she heard the emotions. Ambition disguised as polite conversation on her Mom's part, followed by something gruffer from Armand. Then surprise from Mom, and a stumbling apology.

This was it. Daria closed her eyes.

"Daria!" Mom said. "Armand told me that you insulted him all through the interview! What's the meaning of this?"

She didn't yell. She didn't need to. The hurt in her voice was enough.

"I'm plain no good?" Daria said.

Better to apologize. But at this point, she wanted to bring things to a head. Drop the charade once and for all.

"Your father and I have done everything for you. Do you... do you understand any of that? Do you think that all of this is free?" Mom gestured at the school. "Armand gave you a wonderful opportunity, and you threw it back at him!"

"It wouldn't have worked, Mom. There's not a place for me in the IAS." Daria made it sound casual. Like it was no big deal.

She knew that'd make her mom angrier.

"There's no place for anyone, Daria! Not unless you make one for yourself! What, do you think the School of Julianos welcomed me in? Do you think I've had it easy? No, I had to fight every step of the way!

"I'll never understand how you became so spoiled as to think the world owes you a place. Your father and I always tried to teach you the value of hard work and the importance of doing well. We didn't raise you like some damned aristocrat. Quinn understands it. Why don't you? You're a brilliant girl, Daria, but you're wasting that intelligence. I am just so tired of you!"

Daria stood up. Her head spun, each word from her mom hitting her like a blow from a hammer. She walked away, no longer able to say anything.

"Daria! Come back here at once!"

She picked up speed. She needed someone to talk to.

She needed Tomal.

Musical Closer - Only In Dreams, by Weezer

No lives on the line in a pitched battle; nor is the balance of Morrowind hanging in the grip of some big bad Daedra Lord. Yet, you had me on the edge of my seat for most of this episode. Testimony to your ability to really make your readers care about what Daria and Quinn are worried about as each of them have their own disparate concerns about the evening.

Daria’s self-doubts and introspection were poignant and contained elements of truth. Mom's initial reaction after being enlightened by Armand is understandabe anger at Daria. It is too bad Daria has been so closed off; otherwise Mom might realize how her angry words just seem to fulfill Daria’s prophecy of failure. I do have faith that Mom is an Imperial mother – not a Dunmeri or Altmeri mother who discard imperfect children.

I feel quite sorry for Daria at this point – despite much of her problem being self-inflicted. Jane has left, she has blown the IAS job opportunity and now, Tomal is leaving.

Meanwhile, Quinn is valiantly attempting to salvage another Satheri crisis. Thankfully, the Tipstress seemed to have settled on the proper eye shadow and is looking good. I’m hoping Synda’s challenges and problems when her gang’s turn comes up are bigger than Quinn’s.

This night is shaping up to be a showdown, in more ways than one. It looks like Daria's antics with the IAS are likely to come out to Mom and Dad. Likewise Sydna's best made plans are definitely about to end as well those laid by mice and men.

But at least Tomal is here. Wait, at least Tomal is here? Well now Daria, tell us how you feel about him, without telling us how you feel about him. Someone's thirsty for Tommy.

Uh oh, Tom is headed to the countryside because the peasants are revolting. Well, almost Revolting. Given Daria's current state of gloom - as she realizes that the finding out stage of her previous fucking around is likely to arrive at any moment - it must come as a double whammy. What could make things worse? Quinn pushing her on stage and expecting her to model?

And cue up Cyndy's Lauper's song Time After Time. It is a legal requirement whenever a teenage girl runs away in tears after her boyfriend leaves her.

I see Synda's intimidation worked on Satheri. No surprise. One cannot help but feel sorry for the poor girl.

Oh boy, here it comes, Mom meets Armand. I am bracing myself for what is to come.

Well, that was not quite as bad as I expected. Granted it was just the tip of the iceberg. As Acadian noted, it is hard not to feel sorry for Daria. This must be her lowest point ever. She's lost her closest friend, alienated her family, and likely destroyed her future opportunities.

Yeah, God Help the Gal's really got some depth on several levels. One of those acts who probably doesn't get as much exposure, mostly due to producers only focusing on that 1% of talent these days.

Ha ha, mom and dad are back. Too bad they haven't got more lines! Always love the back and forth between them and their children. Yicch.... roasted beetles! 🐞



I read the first half of this week's episode a couple nights ago, but I was half-asleep at the time. I remember thinking at first it was Daria who made the above statement! In a way it seems like he's mirroring her speech patterns, or something. Bitter humor, that is. Seems like these two could make quite the poignant pair.

Tomal though... one gets the sense he's got a lot more going for him than gets stated in print. He's got a lot going on, from the way he's always zipping in and out of these locals' lives.

Really shocked Tomal's leaving Balmora. Honestly didn't see that coming. It's not as much of a shock as Raven leaving Michigan, but that's only because the matriarch of SubRosa's tale has been with us for 4 years, whereas the Big Mer's been around maybe 4 months.

But from Daria's perspective it's just as much of a shift. And for Synda... uh oh. Life-changing. THAT is going to be the death of her. Because I don't think Tomal's answer to that clingy chick will be "yes".

Tiphannia's outfit sounds absolutely stunning. I hope she found the correct eyeshadow! But it sounds like Synda (that B!TCH) got to Satheri. Right?

I feel for Daria concerning this mess with Armand. I'm more on her side than I am on mom's side. Only because my perspective of Morrowind is how dangerous it is. I don't see Daria going off to some ruins in the middle of nowhere because of this; and this feeling has only compounded after the episodes (three of them, so far) in which Daria nearly lost her life during actual combat. So I feel like Daria made the right decision, burning that bridge. *shrug* And I feel like Daria's got enough smarts that she doesn't need to go so far away from home. Gotta be something for her here in town.

Really anticipating these fashion show results!

Chapter 6

Quinn took Tiphannia's hands and squeezed. "You did so good!" she said.

"So did… you…"

Victory or defeat, they'd made their bid. Nothing to do now but wait for the final score.

"Yeah, you looked great," Jeval said. "And your speech was great, too."

They stood off to the side of the stage. Jeval and Treads had gotten snacks for everyone. All they had to do now was wait for Satheri and the Dunmer bracket. They probably wouldn't win, but oh well. No one ever said that getting to the top would be easy. Even if they failed that night, they'd still made a statement. The first of many.

Quinn looked out into the audience. She saw Mom and Dad. No sign of Daria, though.

"Come on," she whispered.

Stupid to let that bother her, but she couldn't help it. Oh well, Daria was never interested in this kind of thing. She was probably off reading a book somewhere.

Some people couldn't be impressed.

*********

Daria sat next to Tomal. Not with her usual distance, but right next to him, pressing against his side. His arm rested on her shoulders, and the warmth and strength within that arm made her fears feel a little farther away.

"Anyway," she said, "I'm pretty sure my mom hates me now." She'd explained the situation.

The intermission had ended, and the Dunmer bracket had started. She and Tomal spoke in whispers as Satheri took to the stage, as shy and humble as always.

"That's tough," Tomal said. "I know what it's like to have parents with high expectations."

"It's not that. Even parents with low expectations would give up on me at this point. It occurs to me that I've actually been a pretty significant burden on my family."

"Isn't that the whole point of family?"

She smiled. "I guess. But I've taken that a lot farther than I should have. You've seen how I am with most people, Tomal: judgmental, sarcastic, and distant."

"Or witty, insightful, and iconoclastic."

"I liked to think so. Maybe I'm a terrible person."

"Daria, I don't think you're terrible. Most of my life, I've had to deal with people who tell me what I want to hear. Yeah, I'm a noble, and I know that means I have it easy, but it's draining to know that in most of my relationships, the other person only wants to use me. I don't feel that with you. You're entirely confident in who you are and not afraid to let people know about it. That's a rare quality, and one I find quite attractive."

"You should've spent more time with Jane. She's all that, plus she's actually likable."

"I like you fine," he said.

His hand brushed against her hair. An accident?

"You do now. But you'll hate me soon enough." The more she denigrated herself, the more she wanted Tomal to sing her praises. Pathetic, but she needed it that night.

"I haven't met many people that I've actually hated, Daria. I can't ever imagine hating you. You're brave, intelligent, and frankly more beautiful than any of those girls in the show tonight."

Blood rushed to her cheeks at that comment. Tedannupal had been the only other boy to ever tell her she was pretty.

"You don't mean that," she said.

"I do mean it, Daria."

Darkness concealed Tomal's features, but she heard the certainty in his voice, felt it in the comforting weight of his arm. He could make it all go away.

His face got closer to hers until only an inch of space separated their lips. This couldn't be happening, not to her. She was too weird to ever be wanted.

Their lips met.

The resistance she'd built up over a lifetime collapsed all at once in that electric moment. Immediately she pressed into him, wanting to feel him around her, to hold her close like a knight errant protecting his lady-in-waiting, like every ridiculous scene in every ridiculous novel she pretended to hate. Tomal her hero, her protector, the one who accepted her for who she was.

They parted. Daria stared dumbly. She pulled him close for another, her lips pressing against his, feeling his heartbeat against her own chest.

*********

Synda observed Satheri's cringing performance with no small satisfaction. The girl lacked the strength to win anything. Synda hoped, for Satheri's sake, that she'd find a powerful husband. She'd be eaten alive, otherwise.

Satheri bowed and walked off the stage. Synda came next. A tremor of excitement ran through her slender body.

"Guide my steps, Mother Alma," she whispered. "Turn Serjo Sloan's heart for me. This I beg."

"Thank you, Sera Roweni!" Karl announced. "Now, the garb of our next contestant has one foot firmly in Dunmer tradition and the other in the future of fashion!"

Synda stepped boldly forward onto the stage. Let them see her radiance. Let Tomal witness her finest hour. Let Mother and Father and all her ancestors see what she could do for them.

"I bring you Sera Synda Grilvayn, daughter of Tamric and Lynda Grilvayn and—breaking news here—the beloved of Serjo Tomal Sloan, who has graced us with his presence tonight! Might I get a bow from you, good serjo?"

The audience fell silent. Synda held herself like the queen she was.

"Serjo?" Karl called out again. "There he... oh, gods!"

*********

Daria heard the silence first.

It broke through the sensations running through her body, the realization that yes, a man did love her. The vibrant feeling of her first, and second, and third—and then she lost count—kisses. She pushed Tomal away, spots dancing in front of her eyes.

The Dunmer sitting in front of them had turned to stare, his mouth open.

"Oh no," she uttered.

"Huh?" Tomal said.

An entire sea of faces looked at them. No, no, no, thought Daria. Not this humiliation. Not now. How had they heard?

"It's okay," Tomal muttered. "You're under my protection."

On stage, Synda screamed.

It was a scream void of hope, closer to the squeal of a stricken animal than any sound that could come from the throat of a thinking being. She didn't stop. One scream followed another, her entire essence reduced to one awful sound.

Daria looked to Tomal and then back to Synda, a sick suspicion worming its way into her mind.

The crowd began murmuring.

"What's going on here?" someone demanded.

"Upstart outlander!" a Dunmer cried.

Tomal stood up, one hand still on Daria's shoulder. "It's okay," he whispered.

Synda was still screaming.

"This girl is under my protection," he announced. "She's a, uh, guest of the Sloan family. Yeah."

Now the whole crowd came alive, whisper giving birth to rumor.

"Get me out of here!" Daria demanded.

"Can do," he said.

He took her by the arm and lifted her up, shielding her with his body. Maybe they hadn't gotten a good look... oh who was she kidding? The glasses were a dead giveaway.

If Mom and Dad hadn't seen, they'd find out in minutes.

Synda was still screaming.

"Daria!" Mom called.

Tomal stopped. Daria worked her way out from under his arm, her dress damp with sweat. Mom stared at her with a look of baffled horror.

"What is going on?" Mom demanded.

Daria had no words. She'd somehow dug herself deeper. Mom had warned her about carrying on with nobles, and she'd just made out with one in public.

"Keep going," she told Tomal.

"Ma'am, your daughter is safe," Tomal said as he took her wrist. "It'll fall on us Sloans, not on her. I promise!"

Daria wondered how much a Sloan promise meant. It obviously hadn't meant much so far as Synda was concerned.

Her screams still echoed through the courtyard.

*********

"Can't we have one event here that doesn't turn into a damn riot?" Director Lli exclaimed.

Quinn watched as Lli took the stage. "I am deeply sorry for that unpleasantness. Serjo Sloan's business is his own, however, so we ought not to pry too closely!" Lli announced.

Too late for Lli to do anything, Quinn knew. Too many people had seen it. And Daria, of all people! Gods, she must have been horrified at being spotted. Had Tomal been cheating on Synda with Daria? Usually she knew who was dating who, but she hadn't heard of this. It was too much to take in.

"Quinn, are you okay?" Jeval asked.

"Yes. No. I have no idea," she whimpered.

Lli raised her voice, trying to be heard over the murmurs of the crowd. "Since we came here to compete for fashion, I'm sure you all want to know the winners! I'm proud to announce that Tiphannia Blumius has won the outlander bracket for her sense of style. As for the Dunmer bracket…"

Satheri hurried toward them. Synda had been taken off stage, and Quinn wondered what would happen to her. Somebody threw a bunch of comberries at Lli. It barely missed her and landed on the wooden surface with a loud splat.

"Oh, to hell with this," Lli muttered. "Sera Satheri Roweni wins the Dunmer bracket for knowing how to behave herself!"

Satheri froze in place, her eyes wide. Then she jumped up, her arms in the air.

"I did it! I did it, I did it! Oh, I did everything she told me to do, and I still won!"

She grabbed Quinn and shook her; her face honestly kind of scary.

"I did it!" she shouted.

"You did, Satheri!" Quinn hugged her, not quite sure what to make of the whole thing.

Quinn hadn't won. But the Fashion Club had. She'd helped make that happen. People knew about them. As for Daria? She had no idea. Hugging Satheri tighter, Quinn hoped her sister would be okay.

*********

Daria and Tomal ran through the empty streets like fugitives. The night's events whirled through her mind as she ran, with no idea what fate held in store for her.

"Wait," Daria said. "I need to know what happened."

Tomal slowed down and stopped.

"Is Synda your girlfriend?" she asked.

Tomal gulped and nodded. "She was. Emphasis on the past tense. Look, we'd been seeing each other for a while, but it wasn't working out. I was going to break up with her tonight. That's why I came."

"I don't think she expected that."

"I know. I screwed this up, Daria. She wanted to marry me."

"And you told her you would?"

Tomal shook his head. "No! I kept telling her it was too early for that kind of thing. I thought she liked me at first. But after a while, I started to realize she only wanted to marry me for the money. Which, judging by tonight's performance, she really wanted."

Daria nodded. She wasn't convinced money was all Synda had wanted. No one, not even a Hlaalu, screamed like that over cash.

Tomal went on. "We never told anyone about our relationship. I did not think she'd announce it like that."

"She did," Daria said. "And now, everyone knows you cheated on her with me. An outlander."

"It'll be okay—"

"How?" Daria broke away from him, angry now. "How will it be okay? Do you have any idea how much trouble I made for my mom?"

"Okay, okay." Tomal sounded exhausted. "I say, we go and talk to her. I'll take the blame."

Her mother's words echoed in her mind. I am just so tired of you!

Daria shook her head. "No. It's my fault, too. Maybe I didn't impress on you how badly I let her down tonight. Frankly, I don't think she wants anything more to do with me."

"What then?"

She said nothing. What was the next step? This godawful city. All of its scheming and division and treachery. Why the hell had she ever thought Balmora was a home?

"Is there any chance I could go with you to the manor?' she asked.

He didn't say anything right away. She sensed him mulling it over, weighing the pros and cons.

"I'll see what I can do," he finally said. "We'll need to talk to my dad, of course."

"What do we tell him?" Daria asked.

Tomal looked over to the lights of High Town. "I say, we tell him the truth."

"He'll be okay with that?"

"Probably not. But I don't think your presence would be that much of a scandal to him. We'll work things out with the Grilvayns. They're respectable, but not that big of a deal. My family can control the situation."

It seemed like the setup to a perfect romance. A country estate, a handsome man, and all the time in the world.

Maybe Synda had been expecting the same things.

Daria had to decide: Should she go home and face a new wave of humiliation? Or take a risk with Tomal?

"All right," Daria said. "Let's try things your way."

Tomal smiled and took her hand. With that, Daria let him lead her into the night.

Musical Closer - Breaking Up the Girl, by Garbage

The End

Wow. I knew Synda’s announcement scheme would backfire but had no idea that Daria would be caught in the crossfire! And just as she was getting a much needed boost of confidence from Tomal in the form of a love’s first kiss. What a setup, as the rumor will certainly be that this Imperial trollop was trying to steal noble Tomal from his noble betrothed. Now, all that said, Tomal really does seem drawn to Daria and, regardless of the current mess, I hope that bodes well.

Congratulations to Quinn and her fashion club! They won both categories!

So Daria is snuggled up with Tom? As George Takei would say: "Oh my"

“You should’ve spent more time with Jane. She’s all that, plus she’s actually likable.”
All of this is quite true. Plus a nice nod to the original source material where he did in fact, spend more time with Jane.

Awww, there is that nice sweet romantic moment, in the middle of Daria's self-loathing. One hopes that this was rock bottom for her, and we shall see her putting her life together in the future. Starting with making amends with her parents. Either that or she could join the Fighters Guild, and become a wandering adventurer with Kevin.

It's Synda's turn to go on stage. I bet she will see Tom kissing Daria from up there.

Oh boy, everybody saw them kissing? Once again, Oh my.

Quinn is going to be so jealous that Daria landed the big noble, and she did not!

Seriously though, wow. I expected drama, but not this much, and not with Daria being the center of it all. She is going to be all over every English tabloid in the morning. And they don't even live in England!

I was thinking that Synda's wrath would be terrible when visited upon Daria. But given how absolutely horribly she dealt with - screaming uncontrollably on stage as her entire world collapsed - I don't think so. Rather, I think this is pretty much the end of her, whether or not her parents pack her off to a convent.

Yay for the Fashion Club, with wins for Tiph and Satheri! Quinn is handling it really well, given that she was not one of the winners herself. If their roles had been reversed, Synda would have been absolutely furious. So good on Quinn to not be that self-centered, and instead bask in the success of her friends. And of course their joint endeavor.

And now Daria winds up with everything Sydna spent so long plotting for, all without trying. At least so far. Somehow I don't expect this to be a permanent relationship. Just given the original source material. But also the vast gulfs that exist between Daria and Tomal in this universe. But at least it is built upon genuine affection, rather than built on lies and a cynical desire for power and wealth.

OH I see, so GHTG was only for that one album, I get it now. I am more familiar with the name Belle & Sebastian; probably from 89.7, which is our college station in central MD. Yes... Talk To Me, probably have heard this song in the past. I usually have 89.7 on as I'm driving about town, doing errands and such, not really focused on the radio 100%. This is a great track! Love the vocals. Lots of instrumentation. Vivacious movement. This video's cute! Ha. She finally kicks a goal but then leaves the field. ⚽

But what's going on with this fashion show? Tiphannia had a speech? Dang! I wonder how someone who can barely string more than four words together in a sentence can wind up orating an impressive speech?

Uh oh. What's she doing with the Big Mer? Well... it's sort of obvious. Let me shush.

I concur. I've never thought of Daria as 'pretty', but that's perhaps only because she's usually drawn by Japanese animators who used some sort of mass tecnique for cartooning. Fully-fleshed, I bet she can be gorgeous. But also... there's the fact that Tomal definitely seems to have a thing for her.

Shoot. This isn't good. I mean yeah, it's good they kissed. But what comes next? If he's about to frickin' leave town?

Synda's hoping the Big Mer's watching this; meanwhile, she'd literally faint if she knows the truth! 🔪 Wait WHAT???? Beloved of Serjo Sloan???? But but but. Oh gohsh, this is horrible.



They're making out right where eveeryone can see them??? -- Yeah, God Save the Girl... I get it now. Daria's going to need some saving!



Indeed. Because the previous event turned into a huge fight as I recall.

Alright, well good. Tiphannia the Space Cadet won the Outlanders category. And Satheri wins for the natives. Even though she downplayed her dress for some demure duds. Good god, man. Poor Synda. Synda's life is over!



H aha ha ha! That's great! And I like that Quinn is thinking about her elder sis at this time. Deep down the Mall Princess cares, even if day to day they often get into spats.

Eesh. I can't imagine what next episode's going to be like. Seriously did not expect this outcome.

Cool, I love Garbage! Once again, a song from those glorious 1990s.

Um... so WellTemperedClavier WHAT was Tiphannia's speech about? Can you give us a summation, at least? I gotta know! ... "Colors.... colors of eyeshadow. Red, blue, green... no. Purple, mauve, chartreuse... Wait. What was I talking about?" Hee hee, sorry!

Episode 28: A Comedy of Manors

Chapter 1

Daria knew something was wrong when she woke up and realized that the blurry darkness in front of her eyes was not the same blurry darkness she usually woke up to. She reached out to grab her glasses from the left side of her desk where she always placed them. Her fingers only encountered the rough surface of an adobe wall.

That's when it all came back to her: Mom's fury, the chaos at the pageant, fleeing Balmora with the Sloans, reaching Ravil Manor, and being given the guesthouse servant's quarters ("It's normally for servants of our guests, not for our servants who might attend to the guests," as Serjo Ravil had been very insistent on making clear). Not that she served the Sloans. But no one knew where else to put her, so the guesthouse servant's quarters it was. Tomal had admitted the pageant's events and his own relationship with Synda (and now Daria) to his father. Serjo Angyar Sloan had kept his temper and simply gone along with things.

But she suspected that, no matter what Tomal said, there'd be a reckoning sooner or later.

Daria finally remembered that she'd put her glasses next to the washbasin on the small table to her right. She groped for a little while before finding and putting them on. Her vision cleared, but the world stayed dark, save for a sliver of light shining between the shutters. Throwing off the sheet, she ambled over to the shutters and opened them.

The world beyond stole her breath away. Her room looked out upon an Ascadian Isles meadow green and bursting with life. A cool breeze swayed the tall grasses and rustled the leaves of the trees that clustered tall and thick atop the surrounding hills. The loamy smell of growth emanated from rich black soil nurtured by rain and ash for thousands of years.

She let her eyes linger on the scene for a bit. Certainly, a far cry from Balmora's dust and grime, where Quinn would be waking up to a room occupied only by her. Quinn had certainly wished for that in the past.

Time to get dressed and find out what the day had in store. She walked to the trunk where she'd folded her travel-stained clothes, only to notice a bundle of pale blue fabric by her door. A note had been placed on top.

Madam Daria Morgendorffer –

As an honored guest of my guest, Serjo Sloan the Younger (and, by extension, the Elder), I would like to extend my warmest welcome. Enclosed, you will find one of my daughter's old gowns, which you are free to wear. My daughter is married to Serjo Mildryn Sethedras of Ud Hleryn, a man of great prestige, and has no need for her old wardrobe.

- Serjo Rathan Ravil

She picked up the folded dress; the high-quality moth-silk soft and slippery in her hands. Beneath that, she found a pair of slippers. These were the kinds of clothes that'd drive Quinn mad with envy if she saw Daria wearing them. Keeping the window open for light, Daria got dressed behind a folding paper screen set up for modesty's sake, imagining her sister's reaction and enjoying every moment of it.

Unfortunately, while the gown surely fit Hlaalu fashion standards, it didn't fit her. It wrapped tightly around her knees and loosely around her waist. Everywhere else, the garment sagged where it should have slimmed and clung where it ought to have given room.

She looked at herself in the mirror (made of real glass) next to the small fireplace. At least the ill-fitting dress matched her disheveled hair and blotchy complexion. Maybe it was a bad idea to test Tomal's attraction this early. On the other hand, she kind of hoped her appearance would at least moderately annoy one of his family members.

Daria shook her head. No, none of that. She was on her last social support. Carrying on like she usually did was no longer an option. She needed to do her best, however paltry that was.

As she brushed her hair and washed her face (inadvertently soaking her sleeves), she tried not to think about the fact that, in a few minutes, she'd be having breakfast with one of Morrowind's wealthiest families.

*********

"Ah, Madam Daria! Good of you to join us," Angyar said.

The Sloans had all gathered at the grand banquet table in Serjo Ravil's manor house. Morning light beamed through the three narrow windows behind the head of the table, where Ravil sat. Tapestries decorated by lush forest scenes in the High Rock style covered the walls, and the table itself was made of some dark tropical wood. Aside from the adobe construction, only the cylindrical paper lanterns over the table (currently unlit) felt like something from Morrowind.

Ravil offered a faint smile, but his eyes studied her as if appraising an asset and finding it wanting. Daria suddenly suspected that he'd known full well that his daughter's dress wouldn't fit her.

She took a seat next to Tomal.

"Good morning, Daria," Tomal said. "I hope you slept well."

Conscious of Ravil's gaze burning holes into her, she nodded. "I did. Uh, thanks to the host for, uh, appointing his servant's quarters—excuse me, guesthouse servant's quarters—so lavishly."

"The servants of the Ravils live like princes," Ravil said. "Yet even my generosity pales compared to that of the honorable Serjo Sloan!"

Angyar Sloan smiled. "Magnanimity is the virtue of the strong, good serjo."

No surprise that Angyar looked a lot like an older version of Tomal, one with all the raffish charm polished out to a high-class sheen. His wife, Galas, was every inch a proper and wealthy Dunmer lady. Her short hair and bright moth-silk shirt and trousers told the world that she quite liked the Empire.

Breakfast turned out to be a blend of Dunmer and Nibenese Imperial cuisine: white rice and fried river fish with bushels of fresh comberries. All of it served on silver plates, with bitter Elswyer coffee poured into tiny silver cups.

"I'm sure our Imperial guest appreciates the rice," Ravil said. "Does it remind you of home?"

Daria wondered how much she could get away with. The idea of guest right was foreign to Dunmer society. The Sloans' power and wealth meant they'd always have a host, but Daria wouldn't get any leeway.

"I do enjoy it," she finally said. "But I was born on an island off the Gold Coast, so I mostly grew up with bread and fish."

Ravil's eyes widened ever so slightly. "Oh! I did not know that Cyrodiilic cuisine had such variety."

"Same variety found in every province," Daria said.

He gave a bitter laugh and glared at her through a veil of steam rising from his coffee. "You must excuse my provincialism, madam."

Daria, who'd been lifting a forkful of rice to her mouth, paused. Was this a trap?

"Your cook did an excellent job, Serjo Ravil," Galas said. "Tomal and I would know; we spent some years in the Imperial City."

Ravil raised his goblet. "I am pleased that my cook's done well. Only the best for those under my roof, wherever they may be from."

The Ravils and the elder Sloans chatted all through breakfast, Tomal occasionally commenting as required. Midway through, he reached under the table and grasped Daria's hand.

Suddenly, the breakfast no longer seemed so oppressive.

Upon finishing the meal, she and Tomal walked out into the big courtyard. Like a lot of country homes in the Ascadian Isles, Ravil Manor still paid lip service to its original agricultural use. Leafy corkbulbs sprouted in neat rows from the rich soil within the enclosure, and a few other fields dotted the surrounding lands.

"Sorry about that," Tomal said.

"I suppose it's how menials are usually treated in these situations. I guess I'll have to give credit to Serjo Ravil for at least being an abolitionist," she said, observing the workers (mostly Dunmer) search the undersides of the corkbulb leaves for parasites.

"Not exactly an abolitionist. He freed his slaves, but I don't think he particularly cares whether or not other people own slaves."

"Did he do anything to help them afterward?"

Tomal was silent for a bit. "Probably not. Would you really have struck out on your own if I told you Serjo Ravil used forced labor?"

"Absolutely," Daria said. She'd made the ultimatum a few minutes after she'd asked to go to Ravil Manor. If Ravil had been a slave owner, she'd have fled to Caldera or Ald'ruhn to try to leverage her friendship with Amelia or Dimartani. In fact, trying with Amelia would have been a lot safer and smarter than going with Tomal.

"Good. That's what I like about you, Daria," Tomal said.

Did he? Or was he just saying that?

"So, as a menial, am I required to quietly hide myself in a storage room until I'm needed?" Daria asked.

"Dad knows you're my girlfriend—"

"And I can tell he's not thrilled with it."

"It was an awkward situation. But you're fine for now. You'll do what we do."

"In other words, get trotted out for garden parties, hunting trips, and boating adventures. The only upside is knowing that Quinn won't get them despite spending her entire life praying for things that I still see as annoyances."

Tomal laughed. "Oh, there are other things to do around here. Serjo Ravil's got a great library."

"Will he let my uncouth hands touch the pages?"

Tomal put his arm around her waist. She smiled without intending to, not the usual guarded half-smile but a full-fledged one that made her feel as bright as the morning sun.

How embarrassing.

"I'll make sure you aren't bothered. Come on, let's go. I think he has a copy of Confessions of a Skooma-Eater."

Daria looked at Tomal, still smiling and feeling mostly okay with herself for doing so. "How scandalous. Let's check it out."

Maybe Ravil Manor wouldn't be too bad. But she knew it was too early to let down her guard. She was stuck here and had no idea what would come next. Life had felt a lot more secure with Mom and Dad (and Quinn) around.

Musical Closer - Drive, by Incubus

What a spectacular morning view Daria is treated to! Well, after she finds her glasses. And fancy clothes, even if they don’t fit well.

A slightly awkward breakfast but no surprise there. I was glad to see Daria decided to curb her uniquely Dariesque snark and try to make nice. Respect for her hosts is in order, both as a guest and a young one at that. She just needs to think before speaking. Very nice to see Tomal backing her up, acknowledging she is his girlfriend and assuring Daria that he would stick with her as she adjusts.

I’m anxious to see where this goes.

I guess the age old question is answered then: go with the blurry darkness that you know...

Especially when that darkness is the guest servant's house. Ech...

I know the glasses are part of Daria's shtick. But given that this is a magical world, wouldn't there be some magical cure for her poor eyesight? It's a common affliction, so it seems it would be something healers and alchemists would both want to tackle. After all, its a steady source of income.

So from Balmora to Balmoral it is then.

Well the Sloans et al. certainly seem a cosmopolitan lot, given their preferences in attire and dining. Which of course fits right in with their background of living in the IC. They present quite a contrast to Sydna's traditionalist Dunmer family.

Oh, so its in the Acadian Isles then. That always struck me as the most bucolic region of Vvardenfell.

The Ravil's may have discovered, as the industrialists from the North, that you can still exploit and oppress the underclass without enslaving them. It even removes the overhead you incur from having to feed, house, and clothe them. If they continue to live on your estate, you can then charge them for those things. Best of all you can just fire them when the economy is bad, and hire new ones that look just the same when it picks up again.

There I go, being all cynical about abolition. I am sure Daria would approve.

To say that this is an awkward situation is an understatement. Now the question is where does this go from here? I would have expected Daria and Tom to have some sort of 'normal' courtship. But that appears to be right out the window now. Are they going to continue to live on the lam as they are now? Is Daria ever going to go home again? What about Kavon and Daria's adventuring career? Inquiring minds want to know.

I am thinking Belle & Sebastian is exactly the sort of music I might hear in a comic book store! Collegey / folksy alt. rock that is. Not that I've visited a whole lot of comic stores, but what sort of music would you normally hear?



I think Daria would be pretty attractive fully-fleshed, I'd find her hotter than Quinn (I'm a sucker for glasses / nerdy or downplayed looks).

Not sure if you're familiar with Gilligan's Island but that show's a perfect illustration of Quinn versus Daria. Back when I was a kid, I remember my brother and his friends drooling over Ginger to be the sexy one. Meanwhile, I thought Maryanne was cuter-- she was supposed to be the sweet girl from the countryside, while Ginger was a Hollywood star. Perhaps it was the fact I could better identify with Maryanne.

Same can be said for Farrah Fawcett versus either of her co-stars: I liked either Jaquelline Smith or Kate Jackson. But meanwhile, it was Farrah who was always on the stupid sl*tty posters and got all the attention; I bet hardly anyone remembers the names of her co-stars.

Geez, I really need to stop making these mega-posts during comments! Anyway, you get the point. What's going on in Outlanders this week.

Yikes, so the Sloans have two sets of servants. Wait, where is she? Doesn't sound like she's in Balmora anymore. Ascadian Isles. Which part? Hopefully not the part which harbors slaves!



Ha ha ha that's great! And yeah, I'd imagine Quinn might have fantasized about having her own room, but not like this.

Hey, it sounds like they're not mad at Tomal for bringing her here. That's a plus. I like how you're really going into detail about how they're dressed and how the rooms are decorated, and so on. Sounds like they aren't eating bugs. 🪲

As much of an adventure as this is for Daria, it's also quite awkward. It's like they went from a kiss to "meet the parents". No dating. There's some feelings there, but darn. The fact it's gotten so serious so quick... phee!

(Wow, totally ninja'd by SubRosa's comments on this issue.)

Hey, she's smiling!!! Heyya, Daria's SMILING!!!!! Did not expect that. This story's full of surprises, thankfully some of them are welcome.

Here you go for how the Daria cast would look today

Chapter 2

It was mid-morning on Daria's second day at Ravil Manor, and she was bored.

The library beckoned, but judging by how Serjo Ravil had kept sending a servant to check on her and Tomal the other day, it wasn't a place she was welcome to visit on her own. That, or the servant wanted to make sure they weren't… doing anything. The thought of which gave her more than a little bit of discomfort.

She idled beneath the shade of a big mushroom, nostalgic for Drenlyn's comparatively cozy library, when Tomal rode into the courtyard atop a rose-colored guar. He ably steered the two-legged lizard around the corkbulb plot to her side and extended his hand. Daria stared at it, not sure how to respond. Finally, she said: "Four fingers and a thumb. Your hand looks normal to me."

"Any interest in joining me on an excursion to Lake Amaya?" Tomal asked. "Come on, we have to fill up at least a few of the rural vacation cliches."

"Hm, doesn't the lakeside idyll usually come after a few awkward misunderstandings that give hint to our feelings while still keeping the reader in some level of suspense as to whether or not we'll get together?"

He shrugged. "We kind of covered that in Balmora, I think. More efficient this way."

Daria looked around. It sounded nice, but she still didn't know Tomal all that well yet. "I'll go," she said, "but I don't want to go quite that far. Are there any scenic spots closer to the manor?"

"There's a little hilltop glade not far from here. We'll be within sight."

"Okay. My travel clothes are still in the wash, so I guess I'll have to stick with this second gown I got today."

She plucked at her sleeve. The new gown fit as badly as the old one, but in entirely different ways, and was colored a dark purple.

"It has a very avant-garde look," Tomal said. "Like you're wearing a giant bruise or something."

"With the way this thing pinches my shoulders and waist, I probably will be a giant bruise by evening," she said.

"And you thought aristocratic life was easy! Here, you should probably ride side-saddle."

Daria managed to perch herself atop the guar after some finagling, her legs dangling off the beast's right flank. A dozen new discomforts assailed her: the guar's knobby spine, her off-balance position, and the way she kept bumping into Tomal once he started riding. Putting her arms around his waist helped a bit, but the constant up-and-down motion still jarred her.

A few minutes beyond the manor, and Daria wanted to get off the beast.

She persevered as Tomal rode up a grassy hill unmarked by any roads but garbed in wildflowers of gold and magenta, the top crowned by a grove of ancient willows. Daria shivered in delight as the willows' soft tresses brushed against her head and shoulders as they passed under, and the shade beneath the canopy offered a twilit realm of green shadows and glassy blue flowers. From there, she saw more of the surrounding lands: the gentle hills and the gleaming surface of Lake Amaya a few miles to the north. Beyond that, dour as ever, Red Mountain with all its grim portent.

"You do have an eye for natural beauty," Daria said as she dismounted.

"With you a fine example of the same."

She blushed. Gods, no wonder Quinn loved the praise. It felt kind of foolish on some level, though. What was so impressive about being lauded for her looks when she hadn't put much effort into them? It used to be so much easier for her to keep people at a distance.

They settled down near a small mossy boulder, the position offering a willow-framed view of the lake's blue waters. A chorus of tiny insects (and perhaps some not-so-tiny ones) chirped and clicked beneath the stones and between the blades of grass. Tomal took out one of the saddlebags and produced a meal of wickwheat bread, scrib jelly, a few apples, and a small bottle of rice wine.

Daria had to admit it felt almost perfect. Some part of her had always been terrified that romance was exactly the way Quinn made it look: a subtle and never-ending test of social ability, with the value of one's partner reduced to how far up the social ladder they could take you. That maybe all of those silly books about real romance really were silly and best confined to the library.

This day felt like vindication.

But she had to set some things straight. Daria propped herself up on her elbows. She ought to have talked about this at the manor, or better yet, back in Balmora. She'd just hated the idea of his dad or Ravil overhearing.

"Uh, Tomal?"

"Yeah?"

She took a deep breath. "How, uh, far did you, uh, take things with Synda?"

Tomal's brow furrowed. "Beg pardon?"

Daria blushed. "You know what I mean."

"Oh? Oh! Well, let me put it this way: there is zero chance that Synda is pregnant. Or if she is, it's not from me."

That was good to hear. "Okay. As for me, I'm pretty new at relationships. As in, brand new."

"That's fine."

"I'm not sure if this whole physical contact thing is something I'm comfortable with. What I'm trying to say is, I'm not …"

She knew her face glowed as bright as Masser on the night of the Summer Solstice.

"I'd prefer to stick with kisses for the foreseeable future," she finally spat out. "I need you to promise me that you're okay with that. If you aren't, then I'd probably best get packing."

"That's fine, Daria. You'll set the speed for this."

"You're not bothered?" she asked.

"I'd definitely like to get more intimate at some point. But only when you're comfortable with it. If that takes a few years, so be it. Besides, I'm Mer, I've got plenty of years left."

"Rub it in, why don't you."

But her heart soared. She was safe with him.

Except her big brain refused to stop thinking, especially regarding his last comment. Since, yes, Mer did live a lot longer and age a lot slower. If they stayed together and both reached age eighty, she'd look like an eighty-year-old woman while Tomal stayed in the bloom of youth. If he got tired of her, there wouldn't be much she could do to stop him from wandering, especially with how much power his family held.

Plenty of Man-Mer relationships worked out fine. Plenty more fell apart. As for noble-commoner relationships... well, they almost always worked out well for the noble.

"Daria?"

She blinked, Tomal's voice jerking her back to reality. "Sorry. I'm not very good at enjoying the moment. But thanks for, uh, making it a lot easier."

"I'm glad."

Daria blushed again. Suddenly dizzy, she lowered her eyes, conscious of her heartbeats sounding as loud as drumbeats. "Right. I, uh, like sharing things with you."

Gods, that sounded stupid.

"How about sharing a few more of those kisses?" Tomal said.

A moment later, they did just that.

Musical Closer - Just Like Heaven, by The Cure

What a lovely episode. Chock full of Daria’s second thoughts, questions and observations as she tries to figure out this whole courtship thing. The dialogue between her and Tomal was great fun – ranging from hilarious to poignant.

It does indeed seem that Tomal is quite serious about Daria. I find myself hoping this works out.

The mer-human relationship age thing is indeed a consideration. Buffy the Bosmer fell in love with an Imperial and wrestled with the knowledge that the best she could hope for was perhaps a mere half century together. Her concerns turned out to be irrelevant though as he was killed long before age could take any toll. Such musings always bring to mind Queen’s song ‘Who Wants to Live Forever?’

“Hm, doesn’t the lakeside idyll usually come after a few awkward misunderstandings that give hint to our feelings while still keeping the reader in some level of suspense as to whether or not we’ll get together?”
That is exactly what is expected at this stage of the story Daria.

And so far this post delivers. Daria gets some Sydna-related unpleasantness out of the way. Then moves on to some inter-species unpleasantness regarding incompatible - or at least out of balance - lifespans. And Romantic limitations. But at least some happiness is to be found in the midst of all that.

Something just occurred to me. If you really want to subvert how the TV show went, have Tom meet Jane, fall for and start dating her, only for them to break up as well.

I'd imagine comic book stores are going to play anything which has set a trend for younger folks, but which isn't too popular. No Britney Spears, for instance. Music which intelligent, thoughtful people are going to dig, since thoughtful, intelligent people tend to frequent modern comic bookstores.

Then again, I could be totally wrong! Anyway, that's an interesting insight about her glasses, for sure. 👓 I wonder if any of that's true?

Ah I see, so it's even more awkward for Daria in a way, since the people she's staying with aren't even related to Tomal. Okay, I will indeed check out the link SR posted above. Perhaps I'll PM you about my impressions.

She's sitting on the poor guar's spine? Doesn't the thing have a saddle? It's funny how this set of episodes is going, WTC. It's like one long, very unusual, date. So many things are going in a contrary way, compared to how Daria's days would normally go.

Right... what's up with Synda? There's an awkward question for the Big Mer!

Wow... Daria is serious about this. They're talking about love-making! To me this is pretty shocking. But if it's considered that the Elder Scrolls series is supposed to be inspired by Medieval European (with a twist), this is actually how relationships sometimes developed back then. Very quickly, in other words. Without our usual methods of courtship. Ppl met sometimes, and then *bam*, they're getting together. Because it wasn't always about love and romance, sometimes stuff was more about convenience.

Hey, I don't know what I'm talkin' about here, just ignore me!

Daria's thinking too much. Been there myself. I've never considered growing old with someone before, or at least that old.

Uch... They're kissing.

Chapter 3

The next week proved so idyllic that Daria immediately became suspicious. Each day, she awoke in a comfortable bed, donned fine clothes (which, admittedly, never quite fit), and spent the day eating fine food, perusing the library, or exploring the countryside, either on her own or with Tomal.

Nothing was this nice.

Suspicious of the Ravils, she eavesdropped on the conversations of the serving staff to find out what they truly thought of their employer. But it seemed Ravil was neither a cruel ogre nor a benevolent patriarch. He was simply a boss. The workers complained but didn't bear him any real anger. They resented Daria more than anyone else there. To them, she was "the outlander", a boorish and unwelcome intrusion on their lives. She supposed that's what the Empire was from Morrowind's perspective.

Daria still sensed some dislike from Ravil and his wife. Angyar and Galas, on the other hand, were pleasant, though distant. Wouldn't they begrudge her, at least a little bit, for scandalizing them? For causing trouble with the Grilvayns?

"I well remember the passions of youth," Galas said at tea one afternoon. "What you and Tomal did was certainly not appropriate, but no lasting harm was done to our name. Besides, Tomal seems quite taken with you."

Which raised more questions. Tomal had never told his parents about Synda until after the pageant, but why not? If they were okay with Daria, wouldn't they have been more okay with a respectable Dunmer girl? She didn't know how to voice these questions to them without seeming rude, so she asked Tomal.

"Dating is tricky when you're in a family like mine, Daria," he said.

"Tough to choose from all the eligible young Dunmer maidens throwing themselves at your feet?"

A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. "There's a lot at stake. Once the family knows about a relationship, they're going to start making business arrangements because, on some level, that's what any marriage would be."

"Gee, I hope I'm a valuable asset," Daria said, crossing her arms.

"That doesn't mean a marriage is without love. The only reason I didn't tell my parents about Synda until after it was over was that I didn't want the added pressure of both them and her trying to push us together."

"But you don't seem worried about that pressure with me."

Tomal shrugged. "With respect, marrying a Morgendorffer would be less complicated than marrying a Grilvayn. You guys are outside the Great House Hlaalu power structure. Some would resent me for it, but probably not enough to do anything about it. Anyway, we had no choice but to be upfront with my mom and dad, and they're basically cool with it."

Memories of Synda's screams awoke Daria on some nights. Over and over again, they echoed in her memory, and she'd lie there in the darkness, wondering what exactly had happened to the girl.

The elder Sloans hadn't heard Synda's screams. Daria doubted they'd have cared.

If they were okay with Tomal cheating on Synda, Daria thought, they won't put up any fuss if he cheats on you.

"Dammit, brain," she muttered.

But her brain had a point.

Tomal was not exactly idle during this time. Though he spent part of each day with Daria, he spent more working. The Sloan empire stretched far and wide, with more investments in Cyrodiil than in Morrowind (though the Hlaalu Council Company always got its cut). Tomal kept track of each investment and helped ascertain the best prices and fees for the rice paddies, tanna plantations, mango orchards, and egg mines.

Angyar's courier returned from Balmora at the end of the week. Packs stuffed with forms and records hung from her saddlebags, which she took off and brought to Angyar's office in the guesthouse. These turned out to be the elder Sloan's correspondence and business dealings with the notables in the city. Daria barely saw Tomal the next few days, as he and his father worked to go through and respond to each one. While Imperial nobles had reputations as useless layabouts, the Dunmer aristocrats of any great house still led relatively demanding lives, so far as she could tell.

"Oh, Daria," Angyar said one morning. Both he and Tomal had dark circles beneath their eyes from the long hours spent working by candlelight the previous evening. "I'll be sending the courier back to Balmora tomorrow. If you'd like to write a message to your family, I could have her deliver it."

Part of her wanted to pour everything out on paper and send it to Mom, just to connect with her and let her know that yes, she still lived and was okay. Another wanted to cut everything off and move on.

"I would. I'll write one today. Thank you, serjo," she said.

More to the point, most Dunmer took family more seriously than anything else. If she was to impress Angyar (and stay with Tomal), she needed to play the part of a respectful and obedient daughter. Or at least do the best job she could, given the circumstances.

Daria sighed inwardly. Here she was, willingly altering her behavior to impress someone else. Where Mom, the Empire, Drenlyn Academy, the Mages Guild, the IAS, and even a Telvanni wizard had failed, the Sloans had succeeded. Was that all it took? A handsome face and the promise of money and easy living? The realization depressed her. Maybe she was only a lazier version of her mother, her diffidence a smokescreen for the same hungry ambition that had driven Mom up through the legal world.

Daria returned to her room and dragged the squat table next to the window for light. Placing a sheet of paper on the wooden surface, she stared at it for a few minutes as she gathered her thoughts. What did she want to tell her family?

She told everything. With a storm's fury, she unleashed the truth: every pent up hurt from the long years in Charach's sterile sunlight, the cruelties of Synda and the things Daria had done to protect herself, how much she missed Jane, her exhaustion with the world around her, and most of all herself for hating it but still sinking to its level.

Finished, she let the quill fall from her aching hand and sat back in her chair, heaving and soaked in sweat. She wanted to cry but no longer had the energy. Almost a dozen-and-a-half pages of cramped and jagged script surrounded her, all laid out around the table to dry.

If they knew the truth, she'd at least know what they really thought about her. But what was the point? She'd already sunk her relationship with her own family. What did some rambling confessional accomplish?

Daria collected the pages and put them in a stack, not caring if the ink smeared. With bone-deep weariness, she took a new sheet and started writing.

Dear Mom, Dad, and Quinn -

First, relax (especially you, Dad). I'm staying as a guest of the Sloans at Ravil Manor, where they are also guests. It's pretty cushy here. If you want to know what it's like, ask Quinn to tell you her ideal life, and then trim 50% of the fantasy elements. I do get to wear fine moth-silk gowns imported from Cyrodiil on a daily basis. Feel free to remind her of this whenever you please.

How are you, Quinn? I'm sure you're glad I'm no longer there to dim your popularity with my stubborn intellectualism. Are you still steward of the Fashion Club? If so, I'll give you some sisterly advice: of your friends, Treads-on-Ferns is by far the smartest and most reliable, so listen to her.

Mom and Dad, I know you're worried about Tomal and me being together. Well, don't. Tomal's been nothing but a gentleman, and I'm still too boring to ever engage in any kind of passionate romance. In other words, it'll be many years before I become a mother. Tomal's parents know that we're in a relationship, and they seem to approve (or at least not mind). Marriage is a possibility, but I think you'd agree that it's much too early for us to make specific plans for that yet.

I know that the circumstances of our parting were less than ideal, and I apologize for that. However, given the mess I made of things with Armand, I think we can both agree that I'm not a good fit for the family. It's not your fault. I've always been a very strange person. I'm comfortable with that.

- Daria Morgendorffer

This would do. It said nothing meaningful, which made it safe. As she waited for the ink to dry, she gathered up the papers from her previous letter, crumpled them up, and burned them in the fireplace. Then, she took the surviving letter to Angyar.

"Uh, I wrote a letter to my parents, Serjo Sloan," she said. "I'd be grateful if your courier could bring it to them."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Only one sheet of paper?"

"The initial draft was far more detailed but has been redacted for security purposes," she said.

Angyar blinked in confusion and then shrugged. "I suppose you Imperials are rather brusque, even to family." He sounded vaguely disappointed. "She'll deliver it to your parents."

She rejoined them at dinner, wanting very badly to puncture the tension hanging over the table with a barbed comment or two. A single glance at the dour Ravils and the self-satisfied Sloans told her that this would be a terrible idea, and she wondered how long she could hold back. At least Tomal understood her. Or pretended to. Maybe that was the best anyone could get.

The two of them walked around the grounds after the meal.

"Daria, my dad told me something this morning, and I think you should know," Tomal blurted out.

Here it comes, Daria thought. She drew in her breath, readying herself for the worst possible news.

"The Grilvayns are coming to Ravil Manor in a few days."

Somehow, that was worse than anything she imagined. "With Synda?"

Tomal shook his head. "No, just her parents. I guess they want to talk about what happened."

"With knives drawn?"

"Please, Daria. The Grilvayns aren't important enough to hire the Morag Tong to bump me off. No, this is to soothe hurt feelings and move on. Most likely, my dad will offer them a favorable deal as a token. But I wanted to let you know since I suspect you don't want to see them."

She didn't care for his tone. But why would Tomal be worried? Everything always worked out for him. "You're so sure it'll be that easy?" she asked.

Since Synda was someone who'd responded to insult by hiring thugs to attack Daria. That viciousness couldn't have come from nowhere. She still hadn't told Tomal about that.

"Why wouldn't it be? Ultimately, everything in Hlaalu life is a business deal of one sort or another," he said.

Daria nodded but frowned. She wasn't convinced the Grilvayns shared that viewpoint.

Musical Closer - Islands in the Sun, by Weezer

Poor Daria keeps second guessing her situation and waiting for things to go wrong. That her boyfriend’s parents seem to accept her is a good thing. Yet she continues to worry that she will screw it up. She also seems to be carrying almost a reverse elitism, as in, ‘eww, she might get some noble on her’. In fairness though, I'm sure that learning the hired help resents Daria as a boorish intruder has to smart.

The Sloans do seem pretty hard working at managing their holdings.

I figure Daria made a good call burning her manifesto and writing a simpler letter.

So the Grilvayn’s are coming to visit? I suspect Tomal is right; they are mostly looking to smooth feathers and not ruffle anyone’s station. Perhaps even elevate their own a bit by capitalizing on the awkwardness Tomal caused. I don’t expect they care about Synda’s interests or feelings. They gave up their daughter as a failure it seems because Synda didn’t measure up to the little monster they tried to create. Oooh, I’m sounding as pessimistic as Daria!

I can just imagine Daria wearing these fine clothes. The game calls them Expensive Skirt or Expensive Amulet. 💎 Seems she's living the good life now. It's killing me to know what's going on back home in Balmora, but I bet that part's coming.

Right, I can totally see that perspective. So if Tomal even mentioned Synda to his family that might have spurred some sort of machine to get them arranged into wedlock. So that's why Synda was being so pushy. And why Tomal was being so evasive.

-- I notice how Tomal casually is talking about marriage to 'a Morgendorffer', almost like in a theoretical sense. Though it's not mentioned, I bet Dar's blood pressure went up when she heard those words.

Hmm... write a letter back home. Gosh this is killing me, Clav! Most of all I'm wondering about mom. Is she happy her daughter ran away, but in the sense that now she doesn't have to worry about her daughter being a slacker for possibly the rest of her life?? Mom doesn't seem that callous. I bet she's worried. As a mother myself, I actually hope she's worried. But maybe she doesn't care. Hope we'll find out eventually.

Hmm. Daria, respectful and obedient?

Oh cool. We get to read her actual letter, sweet. Wow, even her writing is pure "Daria".



True. Very true. Man... I bet Synda's really in dire straights.

Daria is so happy that she cannot trust that she is happy. Yep, that sounds so like her. One can relate. Still, happy as she is with Tom, one thing that is becoming very clear is that she does not belong in her present circumstances. She is a fifth wheel at Ravil Manor. Everyone else has a role and place there. She has to subdue her natural tendencies just to be less of a nuisance in a decidedly awkward situation.

Ah, so Tom kept Syd on the down-low. One can see why, given that relationships here are not the same as they are in the present day Real World. As Tom said, they are business deals. Tell the family, and the next thing you know, there is an accountant in bed with you and your girlfriend.

Ah, so finally Daria is going to tell her parents... something. This will be interesting.

Oh boy, Dad is really going to need to relax. I bet his eye burst out. No, that was Mr. DiMartino who did that. Dad probably had a stroke.

So there is the truth in pile one, and then the short story in pile two.

Here come the Grilvayns. Where is George Takei again with his "Oh My!" Well, it had to come sooner or later. May as well get it over with and see where things stand.

Chapter 4

Seated in the lap of luxury and surrounded by miles of gorgeous countryside, Daria naturally spent the next day brooding about Synda and her parents. The Grilvayns might be awful, but they wouldn't be so impulsive as to try and physically harm her, certainly not while she lived under the Sloans' protection. But that didn't mean they were okay with what happened.

What about Mom, Dad, and Quinn? She remembered what Quinn told her about Turimar over a year ago: how he'd threatened to make the Morgendorffers pariahs in Balmora. The Grilvayns didn't have as much power as Turimar did, but they had some. More than Mom and Dad did, at any rate. Her damned stupid kiss might have ruined her family's chances.

Tomal took her out for yet another lakeside picnic later in the morning. They stretched out in the shade of an emperor parasol mushroom and gazed across Lake Amaya's shining waters to the verdant foothills beyond, where Daria had accompanied Jane on the last leg of her pilgrimage.

"What's the matter, Daria?" Tomal asked.

Daria waited a while before answering, still looking across the lake. "I think all this fresh air and healthy living is getting to me. I might need to shut myself away in a dusty library for a few months to recover."

"Well the Ravil family's ancestral tomb isn't too far away. Maybe we could ask him? I'm sure the ancestral ghosts won't mind."

"Sharing a tomb with a bunch of undead sounds way too social for my liking."

Tomal frowned. "Ancestral ghosts aren't undead, Daria. I know it's a fine distinction, but it's an important one."

Daria sighed. "Right, sorry," she said, not wanting to get into an argument about the semantics of "undead." She leaned over to rest her head on Tomal's shoulder, an act that turned out to be less comfortable than the romantic tapestries made it look, what with his shoulder blade pressing against her cheekbone. She moved her head away.

"Seriously, though, is something the matter?" Tomal asked.

This time, she faced him. No guile in his face. Just sincerity and chiseled good looks.

"To tell you the truth, I'm still worried about the Grilvayns coming here," she admitted.

He nodded. "I figured. It's awkward. But you won't have to talk to them."

"Do you think we could go on another picnic when they arrive? Maybe somewhere in Akavir?"

Tomal chuckled. "Wish I could, but I'll have to be present for them. You won't, though. Hide away in the library, and no one will be the wiser. I'll talk Serjo Ravil into granting you access."

"Do they know I'm here?"

"Probably. Dunmer tend to be chatty, so I'm sure the rumor circuit is already making the rounds with us."

"Great, so they've probably made me out into some wicked outlander seductress bent on corrupting Hlaalu's upstanding young men."

"Hey, Great House Hlaalu likes its young people corrupt and close to the Empire."

Daria looked back out at the lake. Maybe it was time.

"I never told you this, Tomal, but Synda and I have a history."

"Oh? Do tell."

She breathed in the lakeside air, the scent a bit soiled by algae, and hoped he'd believe her.

"The first time I saw Synda was when she was trying to lure Quinn into the Council Club…"

*********

When she finished, Daria saw a multitude of emotions warring across Tomal's face: surprise, worry, dismay, and fear. But not disbelief.

"Why didn't you tell me all this earlier?" Tomal asked.

"I wasn't sure you'd believe me," Daria admitted. "Which, in retrospect, I can now see as being kind of an insulting thing for me to think."

"I will say this makes me even gladder I'm not with Synda anymore. I had no idea she was doing this kind of thing! Though thinking back on it, there were some hints."

"Given her feelings about outlanders, I'm surprised they were just hints," Daria said.

Tomal exhaled, not able to meet her in the eye. "She did make some… untoward comments. That's pretty common among my people, though."

"Since, if everyone's doing it, it must be okay," Daria said.

"Look, I challenged her when she said things like that."

Had he? Daria wasn't sure. But at the same time, it was the Empire that had forcibly annexed Morrowind to rip its ancient secrets and mineral wealth out of the volcanic rock. Who wouldn't be resentful in that situation?

This whole damned world, she thought. No matter where she went, the corruption dug its claws into her and wouldn't let go.

"Thanks," Daria said, not making any real attempt to sound like she believed. "Anyway, this is why I'm worried. Synda's hurt me in the past, and she tried to hurt my sister. She's not very good at executing her plans, but that doesn't mean she isn't dangerous."

Tomal nodded. "Realistically, there's not much she can do. The Grilvayns will probably be more upset at Synda than at you."

"Why?"

"Because she made a scene in public. And in the presence of, well, me." Tomal looked a bit embarrassed.

"How is that fair?" Daria demanded. "She's not the one who cheated on someone."

"Who said it was fair? Synda did talk a lot about how her parents were grooming her little brother as a successor, and it didn't sound like they cared much about her. Taking your story into account, I'd guess they found out about the whole blackmail thing and didn't react well. Come to think of it, that might be why Synda was so keen on marrying me: she wanted to get away from her family."

"It sounds like I inadvertently destroyed her life," Daria said. "Good thing I'm heartless, or I might feel bad."

And why should she feel bad? Synda was a haughty child of privilege, one who'd used it to brutalize anyone who'd crossed her. This was her just dessert: spurned by her family and publicly abandoned by her lover.

But Daria couldn't get those damned screams out of her head. The memory of those cries intertwined with another memory: how she and Dimartani had saved Synda's life after she'd stood up to Todis and been stabbed for her trouble. She recalled what Synda had said to her in the Hlaalu Council Manor.

"You think you know Morrowind. You don't. But even if you and Sera Dimartani saved me so as to humiliate me, it matters not. I have survived and found a way to restore my reputation."

She must have been referring to Tomal. Meaning Synda no longer had anyone on her side.

"Daria?"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"Okay. We do have a bit of a problem."

"I'd say that's an understatement."

"An additional problem. I have to tell my dad about the history between you and Synda. He needs to know the full scope of what Synda did if he's going to negotiate with the Grilvayns. He won't tell them your story or anything. But he does have to know."

Dammit. She closed her eyes, suddenly faint. She did not think Angyar liked her very much, and he'd like her less for hiding this information. If he kicked her out, she'd be as alone as Synda.

"Does he have to know? You said your family has more power—"

The words caught in her throat. Now Daria was defending her reputation the same way Synda had: using social inequity as leverage.

"It'll be okay," Tomal said. "I'll tell him you told me back in Balmora and that I didn't think it was worth bringing to his attention until now. That puts the blame on me, not on you."

Like so many other things, it seemed too good to be true. "Won't he be angry at you?"

"Oh, definitely. But it won't be that big a problem in the long run. He's not going to disown me over this. The Grilvayns aren't big enough of a deal for that."

So much for leading a principled life. But maybe she'd been kidding herself all along.

"Thanks," she said.

Daria knew she should be thankful. But it was hard to feel gratitude through her complicity.

*********

Sleep eluded Daria that night. Memories of the past two years flowed together and mingled in her mind: narrow alleys and the sour smell of kwama; Jane's sardonic laugh; Quinn babbling on as her parents pretended to listen, all gathered together in the tidy adobe kitchen; the clanks and hisses of Arkngthand; clutching Tedannupal as they flew above Balmora; sharing drinks with Jane on a cold Saturalia night; Synda's despairing screams.

How had so much happened in such a short time?

"Did you sleep well?" Angyar asked the next morning as he poured coffee into his gleaming cup. Breakfast was late that day.

Daria glanced at Tomal, who looked as exhausted as she felt. He offered a wan smile, though a glare from his father quieted it. He'd taken the punishment meant for her, and she had no idea what to do with that fact.

"Are the Grilvayns coming today?" She asked, still standing.

The Sloans and Ravils all stared at her. Angyar finally spoke. "Most likely today or tomorrow. You needn't concern yourself with them. On the whole, I think they'd prefer not to see you."

"With respect, serjo, I'd like to know a bit more about the situation with the Grilvayns. I am partially responsible for it."

Angyar held his coffee cup up to his nose and let it linger for a bit. Dunmer always did that with their coffee.

"The Grilvayns wish to discuss matters with us Sloans," he said.

She couldn't stand this. "Serjo Sloan, I didn't tell Tomal about Synda's behavior until yesterday. He didn't hold anything back from you. He was taking the hit for me."

Tomal jumped up from his seat. "Wait, Daria—"

She cut him off. "I'm sorry. Maybe it's me being as attention-hungry as my sister, but I don't like the idea of someone else taking my punishment."

Angyar only chuckled. "Imperial though you are, it's time you realized that you are in Morrowind, not Cyrodiil. We tend to our own affairs, and the opinions of outlanders matter little. The situation with the Grilvayns is a minor one, and you frankly don't have any say in it. I have tolerated your presence out of deference to my son, but do not forget your place."

"Serjo Sloan speaks truly," Serjo Ravil confided, his lips turning up in a slow and luxurious smile as if thrilled to see someone dress her down.

Tomal stared down at the table, his jaw set.

One of the servants stepped into the dining hall. "Serjos Sloan and Ravil," he said. "It is my honor to announce the arrival of Muthsera Grilvayn, and his wife, of Balmora."

"Ah," Serjo Sloan said. "They must have left Pelagiad early to arrive here so soon. Serjo Ravil, may I use your sitting room for this?"

"Such would be my honor, Serjo Sloan."

"Very well. Galas, Tomal? Let us adjourn and greet our guests. Daria, I suggest you return to the guesthouse."

Tomal gave her a plaintive look. Not seeing any other option, she took the backdoor out of the manor, carrying a plate of scrib pie with her. She passed a Dunmer couple standing in the courtyard, both dressed in dark finery with jagged patterns embroidered onto the silken fabric. The woman looked almost exactly like Synda. Though shorter than her husband, she seemed to overshadow him, her imperious stance demanding attention and deference.

Their eyes met. Daria saw no fury in the woman's face, no desire to avenge a humiliated daughter. Only the passing disgust usually reserved for inedible invertebrates.

Daria apparently wasn't worth hating.

Musical Closer - O Valencia!, by The Decemberists

A pensive episode, filled with the what ifs and concerns of Daria, revealing (in my opinion) several bits of character development – all relating to Daria’s history with Synda. Firstly, Tomal impressed me with his chivalrous steps to take the blame for daddy not knowing about the history. Secondly, I was equally impressed by Daria’s sense of duty by standing up at breakfast to take the hit herself. Thirdly, daddy came across as an ashhole with his ungracious, pompous and dismissive manner.

So, I used to play a little game when I was younger. I'd read the very last sentence of a story (in a real book) and then try to guess some of what happens in the story itself. Never tried this in one of these Fan Fiction stories.

Daria apparently wasn’t worth hating.

Hmm, what the heck? What happened? Did Tomal and Daria break up?

Yeah, the tiers of clothing go: Common > Expensive > Extravagant > Exquisite > Unique. Too bad Vvardenfell hasn't got any beggars/ truly ragged clothing. Anyway, I figured Daria isn't wearing the very best. But certainly she's at the Expensive level.

Some of those common clothes are cute, though. My new wood elf character (blonde On the right) for instance mostly wears Expensive or Extravagant (and I've made these clothes more expensive than in the base game, so if she's buying these clothes she's spending dozens, sometimes a hundred more). But sometimes she'll buy something Common if I get the sense she's really wowed.

I like that Tomal still has to work, that he's not just loafing off his family's money. And... RIGHT.... the Grilvayns are on their way. Synda isn't supposed to be with them , which probably means she's going to be with them.



I think so. Tomal's a pretty straight-up guy.



That's so silly. What was she supposed to do, divulge every recent factoid which happened in her recent life? Why would she even tell a complete stranger any of that?

I like the part when he puts the coffee to his chin and leaves it there a moment. ☕

Oh gosh. Daria, man... she's burning another bridge!!!

Okay, phew. So anyway, I was wrong about Tomal breaking up with her. But she's not even worthy enough to gain contempt for what happened to Synda.

-- For Daria to survive in this environment it's ironic that she doesn't have to do really anything at all, except keep quiet. No more retorts, no more sarcastic remarks. She can literally just hide wherever she's told to go and the rest of life is basically set. Not that this will ever HAPPEN, of course. We all know Daria can't carry on such behavior forever!