TOTD 14: Beyond All Mortal Beauty

by robinwitch1

Tales of the Dragonborn, 14. Epilogue to the "Tales" stories. The Khajiit orphan Zahana, now a grown woman, continues the twin family traditions of an active love life and saving the world as she tries to stop a plague of nightmares and finds out that success will only be possible if she is willing to pay a very high price. (Set almost twenty years after "Skin in the Game.")

Beyond All Mortal Beauty

"You know, dear, if I had wanted to live forever, I would have asked Serana to make me a vampire."

Shah'issol wagged her finger in admonition across the table, as much to catch Elissa's attention as to reprove her. Elissa, who had a blacksmith's apron on and was absorbed in putting the final touches to a new pair of glass gauntlets, paused and lifted her head. She grinned at Shah'issol, and started to wave her head in time with Shah'issol's finger. Then both of them began to laugh.

Elissa put the gauntlets down on the table and went to stand by Shah'issol's chair. She knelt down to kiss her.

"Well, it's not my fault that I haven't found the right person to marry yet. I've had a few other things on my plate, you know that."

"Young people today. What's the problem, anyway? Are you picky or has the pool of potential partners just gotten that much worse in quality?"

Elissa thought for a few moments before replying.

"Probably more the first than the second. The ones I go out with are nearly always wonderful. But after a week, or two weeks, or a month, I come to feel that however good they may be, they aren't the one I want to spend a lifetime with. You've got to admit, growing up in this family has given me a unique outlook on things. Too many perfect relationships, first our grandmothers, and now Dad and Mom. And before that, Dad and my deceased elven namesake. You know what it did to you, living in that shadow; damned if I'm going to have the same fate, especially since you've warned me over and over again.

"Besides, that wasn't a real promise, you know, Nana" she continued, and kissed Shah'issol on the cheek. "You don't actually have to wait for my wedding before you pass away. It's just that it wouldn't be the same if you weren't there in the flesh. You're the link to my grandmothers, after all."

Shah'issol stretched a thin arm out and hugged Elissa to her side.

"Thanks for permission to live, dear. It's never boring watching you go about your business, breaking every heart in Tamriel in your spare time. You must have picked up some Dark Elf from somewhere. Certainly neither I nor your grandmothers were as... socially active... as you are. Try to make a choice before you run through all the eligible suitors."

Elissa laughed and stood up.

"Nana, I can't even decide on a gender yet, let alone an individual."

She reached over to the table and pulled on one of the gauntlets she had been adjusting, twisting her paw this way and that to test how flexible it was.

"If that's what you're wearing to bed, no wonder none of your relationships goes anywhere, dear," Shah'issol said in a teasing voice. "Try taking your armour off first."

"Nana!" Elissa cried out, in a mock-shocked voice. "The very idea..."

She bent over, and kissed Shah'issol on the top of the head one more time, giving her a feline nuzzle to top the kiss off. Then she tossed the gauntlets back on the table and danced off out of the room, turning at the door to look back, the tip of her tail twitching.

"I'm going out in a while, might not be back before midnight, if I'm lucky not until after breakfast. Tell Dad that I tried out his idea for the gauntlets and it worked like a charm. As his ideas always do." She pouted and gave a theatrical sigh. "Surrounded by perfection. What's a girl to do?"

"You're keeping up pretty well," Shah'issol replied. "Go look in the mirror, silly. But try not to crack it with the sheer force of your beauty."

Elissa just laughed. She stuck out a pretty pink tongue at Shah'issol, and then she was off.

-o-o-o-

It was between four and five in the morning, an early spring morning that promised an excellent day, when Elissa opened her eyes. For a moment, she could not place herself, and then she remembered. She was in an upstairs room at the Broken Spear, lying on her back, as naked as a furred Khajiit could get, with an equally undressed but somehow much nuder young man, an Imperial, by her side. Arenara Banius, his name was. She turned to give him a brief kiss on the shoulder, but he remained sound asleep. Not a light sleeper, thank goodness. He doesn't snore either, she thought to herself. A couple more points in his favour. But it probably wouldn't going to be enough to turn her latest casual relationship into something more permanent.

Still, he'd definitely been worth her time. A good lover, too, always thinks of pleasing me before himself, didn't kneel on my tail or bend my ears back or rub my fur the wrong way, covers his mouth when he coughs, well-hung, and likes to cook. And he'll inherit his father's dry goods store one day, not that Elissa cared much about money. She had more than enough of her own, from the ambushed caravan she had been found in, and was growing it slowly but surely through cautious investments. Oh, he seems to have good business sense as well. She shook her head violently, like a horse pestered by a cloud of insects. Stupid. You can't will yourself into falling in love. You should know that by now.

She deftly extricated herself from the tangle of blankets, folded one over Arenara to shield him from the early morning chill, and wrapped the other loosely around herself as a temporary cloak until she found all of her clothing again. Judging by her panties, which she spotted dangling from the chandelier, that might take a while. And he's really fun to be with when he... oh shut up, she muttered to herself. She reached up on tiptoes, snagged her briefs, and put them back on. Well begun is half done.

There was a copy of yesterday's Black Horse Courier on the table near the window that Elissa had picked up but hadn't had time to read last night. The headline read Nightmare Epidemic Spreads Over Cyrodiil, Also Reported in High Rock, Summerset Isles. She'd heard of it; who hadn't? A plague of horrible dreams that robbed people of their sleep and left behind a jumble of sickening images connected in nonsensical patterns. She'd hoped it was going to go away by itself, but from this story, it seemed no such luck.

In Cyrodiil, the epidemic was travelling from south to north. It hadn't reached the Imperial City yet, but it was only a matter of time. It was already as far north as Bravil, spreading by itself, without need of going from host to host, since even the strictest measures to keep affected areas under quarantine seemed futile. The Synod were working on it, of course, but Mom had told her a couple of days ago that even their best mages and scholars were still completely puzzled.

The dreams were very similar to those that haunted victims of the Lady of Nightmare, the Daedric Princess Vaermina, the Dreamweaver. Too damned similar to be chance, Elissa thought. But why should Vaermina manifest herself at this time and in this strangely impersonal way? Her Daedric artifact, the Skull of Corruption, had been destroyed by Erandur with her grandmom's help, nearly a century ago, and it seemed early for it to return to Mundus. Her handful of followers in Cyrodiil, who customarily gathered at a small shrine south-west of Cheydinhal to worship, denied any knowledge of the origins of the plague and asserted that their Lady was being blamed unfairly for a disaster she had not caused. As far as anyone could tell, from both ordinary and magical means of interrogation, used with the permission and cooperation of Vaermina's flock, they were telling the truth. Or at least the truth as far as they themselves knew it.

"Vaermina's a bitch," Elissa muttered to herself. "It would be just like her to lie to her own followers as well as to everyone else."

What was special about her? Nothing very important, to tell the truth; a Daedric Princess with a limitless hunger for the dreams of mortals. What she did with the stolen dreams, no one seemed to know. Why she left behind such horrible nightmares, no one knew either, though it might be from sheer spite. You could never rule that out when you had a Daedric Lord to deal with. But it seemed bigger than that, as if she were nursing a titanic grudge against someone or something. Even if the scenes reported from her Daedric realm of Quagmire were illusions – huge crowds of people screaming as they burned alive, howling mortals, their skin ripped off, devoured while still conscious – they didn't say much for her mental state. Neither did her rumoured association with torture here on Mundus.

And on top of that, poor social skills. Even Molag Bal – even Malacath, damn it – could be persuasive, if he saw the need, but not her. Shah'issol had told Elissa how crudely Vaermina had tried to lie to her mom, to get her to take the Skull of Corruption for her own and kill Erandur before he could use Lady Mara's power to banish it for a time. She wasn't even credible, Elissa thought, with a touch of contempt stemming from her merchant heritage. Trying to beg a flavor, bribe with an artifact, frighten with a threat, and give an order all at the same time. Any street peddler could have done better.

Did Vaermina have another side? Elissa knew that her frightfulness wasn't all that unusual, considering who she was. Any one of the Daedric Lords could be terrifying if provoked. But she also bore the titles of Vaermina the Gifter and Weaver of the Panoply, and she was the one who had created for Molag Bal the potion that turns vampires back into human beings. Was that the Gift that the Gifter held? Elissa shook her head. No way to tell, not yet anyway, but it must have been more than that, she felt.

And Weaver of the Panoply? She had created, then, but created what? Weaver... that was a title that the Daedric Princess Mephala bore as well. And Mephala and Vaermina were both allies, or friends, of the Daedric Lord of Debauchery, Sanguine. And... Elissa began to smile as the associations came back one by one from memories of dusty books read on rainy evenings... Mephala was the mother – speaking broadly – of Hermaeus Mora. And Hermaeus Mora was an enemy of Vaermina's... Feud? More likely a bar brawl, if Sanguine was at the centre of it...

Whatever had been going on, Vaermina seemed to have gotten the worst of it. She had no lesser servant daedra, very few worshippers, no recognized role in any sort of mortal religious symbolism such as the Four Corners of the House of Troubles... She did have quite a few mortals visit her realm, at least in dream, but all she ever did was give them a good scare. What could have made Hermaeus Mora her enemy? Was there some secret that she stubbornly refused to share with the Lord of Destiny and Knowledge? Or was it something else?

Despite the blanket and her fur, Elissa shivered. A complex friends-and-family feud among the Daedric Princes was a risky thing for a mortal to stick her nose into.

What to do now? Elissa stretched and smiled. Go back to bed, of course. And take it from there, in the proud tradition of her grandmothers. She came from a family that had always tried to keep its priorities straight.

Just as she had hoped, Arenara woke up, rolled over, and embraced her when she slipped under the blankets again. He started to nuzzle and kiss her neck, and not for the first time, Elissa regretted that despite their feline affinities, Khajiit lacked the ability to purr. She settled for gently nibbling and licking his ear instead, whenever it got into range.

"You got dressed again," he mumbled, as his hands slipped down her back to her bottom. "Time to go already?"

"No," Elissa replied. "Hours yet. I put my panties back on out of scientific curiosity."

"Mmmmm...?"

"I found them hanging from the chandelier, and I don't remember how they got there..."

She laughed and rolled over onto her back, pulling him over her. After the first tug or two, he took the hint.

"Can't leave out a detail like that in my report to Nana when I get back. So, once more, with feeling. This time, I'll be taking notes."

-o-o-o-

Shah'issol gave a little sniff and a dubious wave of her head.

"The Broken Spear? Seems like an odd place to meet a lover. Not exactly an auspicious name from the male point of view."

"I pointed that out," Elissa replied. "But he offered to prove it wrong, and I must say, he delivered. We went there for a meal, not to spend the night with each other – we've only been out together once before, and that was with a group of others – but things started cooking during dinner, and by the time we got to dessert, we both had a pretty good idea of what... who... we wanted for a midnight snack. He didn't disappoint, and from all indications, neither did I. A really nice guy, Nana, in and out of bed. Good for the next month or so, anyway..."

"I see you've decided to try long-term relationships again, then..." Shah'issol said, in a slightly sarcastic tone of voice.

"Oh, Nana..."

"A month is four times longer than a week, which is how long your previous three or four lasted. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

-o-o-o-

"Hi Mom, hi Dad. What's up? You two look as if you were ordering the flowers for your own funerals."

"You're a little too close to be comfortable," her dad said. "Mom just picked up the latest report on the nightmare plague, and it's grim reading. It's getting worse and worse, and we still have no idea at all what's going on. Or how to stop it."

"You'd think the Imperial City would be filling with refugees if it was getting worse. Are you sure of those reports?" That was one of the things that wasn't making sense to Elissa. Why hadn't people been leaving the areas hit by the plague? If a bear went after you, you'd run, even if it was hopeless. Why were most people just sitting there, waiting to be hit?

Her mother put down the papers she had been reading with a sigh.

"That's the most unsettling thing about this plague," she said. "It seems almost to hypnotize people. They know they should leave if they're in an infected area and still healthy, but they don't. You can't even drag them. They just wait for it to get them, too. I suppose everyone thinks they can deal with it. Dreams, after all – how much danger can they be? People are still talking like that here. They're wrong."

She fished a piece of paper out of one of the stacks. "Our information isn't complete, but some of the areas first infected are up to a suicide rate of twelve to fifteen per cent, and counting. The dreams are so horrible that they're driving people mad. A six-year-old girl burned herself to death just outside Leyawiin a week and a half ago. The day before, she'd told her mother that she dreamed of people on fire every night and she couldn't stand it any longer. Her mother and father hanged themselves the next day." She tossed the piece of paper onto the table, and sighed. "If this gets to the Imperial City, there's going to be a massacre. It's been spreading a bit more slowly in the last couple of weeks, but I can't see anything that can stop it, right now."

"No drugs work? No prayers are effective? Even a little?" In spite of her horror, Elyssa was intrigued. All Khajiit are hunters at heart, and what better prey than something that was victimizing the innocent? But what was it?

Her father replied, "Nothing is very consistent. Some victims have reported that their dreams became more bearable if they pray to Arkay. But that doesn't always work. Sometimes it makes it worse. Those who have devoted themselves to the service of Kynareth or Akatosh seem to be immune so far. But that only seems to apply to men and women who have served the temples all their lives. People are saying that if the disease does break out in the Imperial City, Akatosh will come to save the Emperor and Empress. But that's just analogy from the Oblivion Crisis. There's no Mehrunes Dagon here to overcome. We have no idea who or what is behind it at all."

"Stinks of Vaermina to me," Elissa said. "She's the Lady of Nightmares."

"But why?"

"There isn't any why with a Daedric Prince, you know that, Dad. They have their own reasons for doing things."

Her father shook his head.

"Usually there's some motivation. Something they want. We don't know, for instance, what put the idea into Mehrunes Dagon's head that he is the rightful ruler of Tamriel. But we do know that that's why he tried to invade two centuries ago. If the Daedric Lords were a completely insoluble problem, we would probably have been dead centuries ago."

"Vaermina." Elissa usually went with her hunches, and this wasn't so much a hunch as a huge red arrow with gilded edges and a dozen temple candles lit in front of it. "No one else fits the profile for this."

"Vaermina, and then? She's one of the more mysterious Lords. We have no idea what she might want, and she has no history of this type of indiscriminate, lethal mass attack. Her worshippers are just as puzzled as we are. They've been cooperating, but there have been no results so far. It seems she's difficult to contact, even by her faithful."

"We've had this problem before, don't you remember?" It was Shah'issol, calling from the next room. She sounded a bit annoyed, as if the solution was too obvious to be worth getting out of a comfortable chair to deliver. "If you don't know, ask."

"But ask who?" Her father shook his head. "Dagon wouldn't even be interested in this sort of thing. He's into revolution, war, violence, not disease. And Vaermina herself isn't talking. Plus, as I'm sure you're aware, her realm, Quagmire, isn't exactly visitor-friendly. It looks as if she devotes herself to terrorizing outsiders, whether they're wandering wizards or people brought there in a nightmare. It still doesn't connect properly with what's going on here. We haven't done anything to offend her."

"The victims of her nightmares never have done anything," Elissa remarked. "They're a random lot, even for a Daedric Lord. But we can't ask her directly. How do we find out if it really is her? More important, what can we do about it if it is?"

Shah'issol came in, looking a bit irritated. She had a small container in her hand, and banged it down on the table. Elissa, her mother, and her father all looked at it.

"Glow dust," Shah'issol said. "You really should have been able to figure this one out yourself. If you can't ask the most knowledgeable, you ask the friendliest. Vampires, ghosts, dragons, Daedric Lords – the rule's always the same. Now, are you going to take this up to Azura's shrine in the Jerall Mountains, or do I have to do it myself?"

Elissa picked up the bottle and put it into her pocket. "Don't be so mean, Nana," she said, giggling a bit at her weary-savant act. "We can't all be as quick as you are."

Shah'issol snorted in derision. "I'm never going to be able to die, never. What would you lot do without me? Up to your ears in trouble before you were half-way through my funeral, I'm sure. I don't want to have to cause a fuss by getting up out of my coffin to fish you out of another mess. I suppose you could study necromancy, but I want some peace after I'm dead, not being summoned every five minutes to answer questions you should be able to handle yourself."

She turned to question Elissa. "You know where the shrine is? Don't get lost."

"I can find it, Nana. I've been there. It used to be dangerous for a Khajiit to travel there alone, but I think it's all right now."

Sha'issol gave Elissa a quick hug. "Don't waste any time, dear. You know when to make the offering, I suppose."

She stepped back a bit, looked Elissa over, and nodded. Her voice was serious now.

"This is a bad one, dear. Really bad. I wish I could come with you, but I'm just too old for that sort of thing now. Leave right away. The sooner you get there, the fewer people will die. You'll know what to do when you arrive, your grandmothers will be with you, and all of us. Just trust your own judgement, and do the best you can."

"I'll leave tonight," Elissa said.

Shah'issol shook her head. "No. Right now."

"It's that bad?"

"It's that bad, dear. But I think you can do something about it. Now go."

-o-o-o-

First trip to Oblivion. Elissa hadn't expected that. She'd hoped to get some wise advice, perhaps a relic or two, a daedric artifact if she was really lucky. It turned out to be a lot more.

As soon as she had made the offering, a portal had opened, and a voice had said to her, "I would speak to you in person. Step into the gate, and come to my realm of Moonshadow. Your eyes will be dazzled, but there is no true danger. Come at once." Azura's faithful, gathered round her statue, had gasped in shock. Guess I just made myself famous, Elissa thought to herself wryly. They had been a bit disdainful of her when she had arrived. Their attitude would be different when she returned, Elissa guessed. If she returned.

She had obeyed at once. Of course. She guessed that what she had heard was the voice of the Lady of Roses, Queen of Dusk and Dawn. It was calm and friendly, but at the same time, it was not the sort of voice that a sane person disobeyed or disregarded.

Elissa stumbled as she left the portal, blinded by passing from Azura's Cyrodiil shrine in the twilight into a brilliant pool of light. Something moved in front of her, preventing her from falling. Elissa looked up, and tried to suppress a gasp of surprise. It was one of Azura's messenger daedra, a Winged Twilight, a creature that she had never expected to see outside of a book of fantasy. It had the eyes and skin of a Dark Elf, the wings and hind claws of a dragon, and it hovered there, waiting for her to get her footing again.

Thank goodness it's smiling at me, Elissa thought. If it frowned, I think I'd faint on the spot.

"My lady awaits you with great interest," it said, in a musical voice with a distinct resemblance to that of its mistress. "The path is smooth, but the light may be brighter than you are accustomed to. If you cannot see, put your hand on my shoulder, and I will lead you."

"Thank you." Elissa decided to take advantage of the offer. She could hardly see her shoes, let alone anything else. "Let us go to your mistress now."

Crystal and silver, and everywhere bright, glowing light. Elissa had read of the brilliance of Azura's palace in Moonshadow, but none of the descriptions had done it anywhere near justice, she thought. Her eyes were slow to adjust, and she was still blinking and shaking her head when the Winged Twilight led her into the throne room and before the seat of Azura, Lady of Roses, Queen of Dusk and Dawn.

Elissa knelt at the foot of the throne, and bowed deeply.

"Rise, mortal. I know why you come here, and I wish you luck in your quest. I can help you, but it may not be enough for you to prevail. You have taken on a difficult task, without doubt or questioning, to save others by risking yourself. It is a noble resolution. But you may not yet realize how grave the risk is, and how difficult the task."

Elissa rose to her feet, but kept her gaze down.

"Thank you, Queen of Dusk and Dawn. My friends and family are in peril, and I seek the means to save them. I am ignorant of the true nature of what I face, and this is why I come here. If you can instruct me, I will be forever in your debt, and perhaps I will be able to succeed. But in any case, I must try."

"You are wise beyond your years, mortal, and your first estimation of who is responsible for the plague of nightmares in Tamriel is correct. It is, indeed, Lady Vaermina, the Dreamweaver, Gifter and Weaver of the Panoply. But identifying where the plague comes from is one thing. Bringing it to an end is another. What you seek to do may be beyond your mortal strength. Perhaps beyond the strength of any."

"That does not matter," Elissa replied, in a humble tone. "Whatever my strength, whatever the difficulties, I must try. My people are dying. Children are dying. My family is at risk. That is all that matters. Can you give me aid? I wish to travel to the realm of Lady Vaermina and ask her why this plague has come. Her shrines in Tamriel are silent, and her believers know nothing, and so I must ask her this by travelling to her own realm, if I can."

"Quagmire is her realm, and it is a barren land full of terrible images," Lady Azura responded. "If you go there, how do you propose to defeat Vaermina's attempts to rob you of your sanity?"

"I do not know, Queen of Dusk and Dawn. And I do not know how to go there. On these matters, I pray for your assistance."

"I can give you the sight that will allow you to see the true face of Vaermina and her realm, and protect you from any illusion or deception she may try to use on you," Azura said, with ever so slight a hint of reluctance in her soft voice. "It will also show you the true appearance of Moonshadow, my home, without dazzling or pain or loss of clarity. Or any other of the Realms or their inhabitants, should you find yourself in yet another part of Oblivion some day."

"I thank you, Lady of Roses," Elissa said, her eyes still fixed on the ground.

"But there is a price. And once the change is made, it can never be reversed. My power is great, but it has its limits, and this is one of them. After you return to Mundus, it will be with you much the same as if you had opened one of the Elder Scrolls and attempted to read it. I regret this, but it is something I cannot change."

For a moment, Elissa's mind refused to operate. She stared at her boots and tried to think. An Elder Scroll? Why would she try to read one of those? She'd never even seen one. Besides...they drove you blind, didn't they? For a moment she wondered where she was, why she had come. Then it came back to her, the plague, the madness, the hopeless attempts to cure. The children crying. The exhausted faces, frantic for rest. The suicides, the little girl who had burned herself alive rather than face another night of terrible dreams. All of this closer every day to the people she loved. And this was what she had to do to have even a chance of stopping it. She forced herself to respond.

"You mean that when I return...I will be blind. Forever."

"Yes. The power comes at that price. Perhaps it is much the same as it is with reading the Elder Scrolls, an action which can never be erased from Time's fabric. I can give you the ability to see with the eyes of Oblivion, but a mortal gifted with such far-sight no longer notices the things of her own world. She has gone beyond, and there is no road back. You must decide whether it is worth what it will cost you."

"And there is no guarantee that I will succeed."

"None. The true mind of the Weaver of the Panoply is closed to all others. Even to her fellow Daedric Lords. She dwells alone in a waste land, and fills it with nightmare visions, that is all anyone can say. I can protect you from her illusions, but I cannot read her mind or predict what she might do."

Elissa stood silent for a moment, trying to think. This had all become much bigger than she had ever imagined it would be. She looked at her arms and legs and tail, one by one, carefully, with a vague sense of wonder. What would it be like to never see them again? For the whole world to be one great darkness...To go from Moonshadow, a land beyond all mortal beauty, to eternal night. Then she suddenly remembered a question that had been nagging at her ever since her quest had begun.

"Lady of Roses, why does Vaermina have the title of Weaver of the Panoply? What does it signify?"

"It goes back to the earliest times. She was once a great grower of things, of all vines and roots and grasses and moss, all spreading plant life, and the plants in the sea. The grasses and flowers that cover these fields were her work, as were the grapes and intertwined vines of Sanguine's realms and the prairie grass of the broad plain over which Hircine hunts. Even in the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon, she planted bloodgrass, the only living thing in all that realm that can help mortals, but cannot harm them. But that was at the beginning, before she darkened into what she is today. The work of her hands yet remains, in Mundus and in Oblivion alike, except in her own realm. With my gift, you will see that realm as it truly is, stripped of the horrible illusions she uses to terrify other visitors, a vast, empty desert where no plant grows, no bird flies, no animal or insect lives, and no water runs. It was not always like that, but that is the face it wears today."

Azura paused for a moment, and then continued, in a gentle voice.

"If you take my gift, and go there, what do you plan to do?"

"I will appeal to Lady Vaermina," Elissa replied, hesitantly. "Ask her to stop. Try to make her realize what she is doing. There's nothing else I can do. She is a Daedric Princess, just as you are. A mortal cannot force a Daedric Princess to listen or change. But perhaps the fact that I am there, that I have come... perhaps she will be surprised enough to listen. And if she kills me..." Elissa took a deep breath before going on, "if she kills me, she will have to do it right there, in her palace, in person. With her own hands. I have been told that she has no servants, and lives alone. If for once she sees real blood... has to deal with a real corpse, that too might awaken her. She's getting away with it too easily, dreams, phantoms, until the person she has attacked goes insane or kills herself. She is always well away when the Dread Lord comes. She runs from Him, kills at second hand. I think she's afraid of Him. But I am not."

Azura rose from her throne and walked down the steps to where Elissa was standing, her head down. As she approached, Elissa fell to her knees.

"Stand, Zahana. You are very, very brave. Just as your mother and father were."

Startled by the use of her Khajiit name, Elissa stumbled to her feet and stood there unsteadily, her eyes still fixed on the ground. Her head was spinning.

"My birth parents, Lady?"

"Yes. You cannot remember them, I am sure. You were too young when they died, and afterwards, you were with good people who did all that parents should do for you. Your birth parents were both caravan guards, and they died together, side by side, making sure others had a chance to escape, doing their duty without question. Loyal even in the face of death, as they had sworn to be. You have much from your adoptive family, but I can see your mother and father in you too, clearly. Not just in your Khajiit form, but in your brave heart as well. They are very proud of you today."

As Azura spoke the last words, Elissa began to cry, uncontrollably. She stood there for a few moments, sobbing, with her tears running down her fur and falling to splash and glitter on the glowing silver floor. Then she rubbed her eyes once, twice, impatiently, and lifted her head to look the Queen of Dusk and Dawn in the face.

"It's time for me to do my duty, then," Elissa began. "I will accept your gift of far-sight, Lady of Roses, and all that it brings, the gain and the loss. There are enough kind people in the world to keep me from falling into ditches when I am back in Mundus. I can live without my eyes, but I cannot live knowing that my friends and family were being hurt but I failed to do something that might have protected them. I'm not brave at all. I'm frightened. I wish I were anywhere but here. But there is no other way now. I just have to do my best, and if it isn't good enough, so be it."

Azura nodded. "Your grandmother, Vivian, the Dragonborn, would have had just the same feelings, and said just the same thing. But bravery is the conquest of fear, not its absence. Brave daughter of brave parents, fate led you to just the family that you deserved, and you have lived up to all of its traditions. Close your eyes a moment."

Elissa whispered her assent, and closed her eyes. Azura reached out and touched each of the closed eyes once, with the fingers of her right hand. She nodded in satisfaction.

"Open your eyes again, daughter. I give you Moonshadow, in its true beauty."

-o-o-o-

In later years, Elissa's children, and then her grandchildren, would ask her again and again to describe Moonshadow as she saw it through the eyes of Oblivion. Each time they asked, she would try, and fail once again. "There are no words to use," she would say in the end. "The Daedric Lords do not live in the world that we see around us, not completely. I was given the power to see as they do, to enter their world, but not the power to describe what I saw. It was far brighter than it had been before, but I could look into the heart of it without flinching. It was light, and music, and scents, and movement, all of them and more brought together. I could smell the light, it smelt like apples, and hear the perfumes drifting though the air – some rustled like dry leaves, others tinkled like a cascade of tiny bells. Everything was connected though distinct and separate, and all expressed some aspect of their mistress and creator, the Queen of Dusk and Dawn. They were to her as the petal is to the flower, a bloom unfolding endlessly.

"Later, when I met the Daedric Prince Sanguine, Lord of Sensual Indulgence, I was able to appreciate how particular and personal this expression is. Lord Sanguine pulsed slowly with a dark energy, not the soft, steady radiance of the Lady of Roses. She glowed with the light of dawn; he glittered in a warm night that whispered promises of exquisite delights in your ears – but there was something of a hard edge to him as well, a concentration on pleasure that did not necessarily make allowance for the pain of others. It was more thoughtlessness than active malice, 'I don't always think things through,' as he once said to my grandmom, but still, it was very different from the morning hope and evening peace that the Queen of Dusk and Dawn spreads about herself."

-o-o-o-

Azura, Lady of Roses, Queen of Dusk and Dawn, waited with a patient smile as Elissa wandered away over the meadow, gazing at all that had been concealed to her before, lost in wonder at her new vision. At last, Elissa turned back to her.

"It is lovely, Lady Azura. It reflects its mistress in every one of its parts."

Azura smiled.

"Remember it well, my daughter. Quagmire, the realm where you go, is a very different place. Memory of the light here will give you strength in its darkness."

She led Elissa over to a small grove. They walked over a field of luminous flowers to the trees, and Elissa saw that the space between the two largest was shimmering and wavering. She looked at it quizzically, and asked the Lady of Roses, "Is this a portal? It doesn't look much like one."

The Queen of Dusk and Dawn laughed and shook her head.

"Did you expect an Oblivion Gate? There is no need, not here. I am a more careful worker than that clumsy fool Mehrunes Dagon, who always uses force when craft would serve him better. Let him have his scarred landscapes, his belching flames and glowing stone; my gate stands in the green forest and does no harm to any living thing. Besides, this goes between two Daedric realms, not between a Daedric realm and the mortal world. It needs only a fraction of the power to create and keep open.

"Now, listen well. If things go badly for you in Quagmire, come back to the gate and re-enter Moonshadow. I know your courage, I know that you will do your best, but if all your efforts prove in vain, take refuge again here. Moonshadow's glow will shine through the gate, so it will be easy to find your way home, no matter how thick the darkness.

"The portal will appear in Quagmire a short distance in front of Vaermina's palace, a dismal affair of broken grey stone. Go up the stairs and through the front door, and you will certainly encounter her. I doubt if she will be willing to talk with you as soon as you arrive. Instead, she will call upon the full range of her arts to confuse you and drive you insane with ghastly visions, each more horrible than the last, unaware that you cannot see them even if you wished to. When she finally realizes that all of her efforts are futile, then is the time to speak."

Elissa bowed to the Lady of Roses, a deep, formal bow.

"I thank you for your aid to an insignificant and unknown mortal, immortal Queen of Dusk and Dawn. You have advised me and armed me and shown me a living beauty beyond anything I ever could have dreamed. If I live and succeed, I will tell all that it is more your victory than mine, and it is you who deserves the praise. And if I fail and die, I will remain thankful for all eternity that you allowed me this attempt, and I will praise your wisdom and kindness before the throne of the Dread Lord for all to hear."

"This is the first time since the Hero of Kvatch faced Lord Jyggalag in the Shivering Isles that a mortal has matched wits or weapons with a Daedric Prince," Lady Azura replied. "May it go with you as it went with her."

She reached up and took the wreath of roses from her own head and put it on Elissa's.

"There is no magic in it," the Lady of Roses said. "But magic would do you little good. This is a contest that will be won by wit, not by force. There is in my roses only a reminder of beauty. You will need that there, more than anything else."

She turned to face the portal, and raised both hands, and the space between the trees dissolved into a pitch-black sky above, bare and dusty ground below, and a ruinous structure of grey stone directly in front.

"Return safely and swiftly, my daughter. May your courage be rewarded by success."

Elissa said nothing in reply. She knelt and kissed Lady Azura's hands, and then turned and stepped through the portal.

-o-o-o-

The dust was horrible. It was death-grey and choking, slippery – almost slimy, Elissa noticed with a shudder – and clinging. And it stank, an indescribable stench. Elissa had caught a whiff of decomposing corpses before, once or twice, and she had never forgotten their sickening odour. No one ever does. But this was worse, fearsome as well as disgusting. It was as if the thing it had rotted from were still alive, somewhere out there, and hunting you.

Fortunately, Lady Azura had opened the portal very close to the stairway of Vaermina's palace. It was being generous to a fault to call this rock-pile a palace, Elissa thought. She shook her head in disbelief. The stones were cracked, tumbled from their places, discoloured, and they had not been well-cut to begin with. Little more than lumps, really. Elissa had read the descriptions of the Deadlands by warriors who had been brave enough to enter an Oblivion Gate during Mehrunes Dagon's failed invasion of Tamriel. The scenery in Dagon's realm had been bleak and horrifying, but at least it had had a sort of wild grandeur in black and red, towers and bridges, spikes and flames and lava. It spoke of cruelty, carelessness, obsession, waste, but also of vast power and burning ambition. No one who saw it ever thought that its master was anything less than a formidable enemy. In comparison, this lumpy pile of waste stone, quarry rejects, vomited into the centre of a vast empty plain of grey and stinking ash, was a pathetic spectacle.

Up the stairs, to the front door. And it really wasn't any more impressive than a front door in a good house in the city, Elissa noted. She looked over her shoulder one more time, through the portal, all the way to the soft glow of Moonshadow, then turned and pushed the door open.

It was very dark inside, and silent. A corridor ran to right and left, disappearing into the gloom. A third corridor opened directly in front of her, and here, there was a flickering light from a candle or a fire at the other end of its unlit length. Elissa walked toward the light, making no special effort to keep quiet. She was not here to evade the sole resident, but to confront her.

The corridor opened to the right onto a small courtyard that was open to the sky, lit by four torches, one in the centre of each wall, set high up. The courtyard seemed to be empty, its only feature three low collars of stone set into the floor on the far side, like well casings. But when Elissa approached, she saw that these wells did not contain water. There was a flat, transparent surface to what lay within, to be sure, but below it was not the featureless darkness of a well's depths but a swirling maelstrom of shapes and colours. They hummed faintly, and when Elissa knelt beside one and listened to it closely, she could perceive that the hum was made up of a mixture of sounds, music, talk, shouting, and random noises. She finally realized that the shifting forms she was observing were the dreams that Vaermina had stolen from their rightful owners. It appeared that all she had been doing with them was to hoard them, keep them confined and under her control. She had had no real use for them, but she still kept on gathering them, a mad, unending harvest to fill a useless treasure chest.

Elissa rose to her feet and began wandering from one well to the next, thinking. She felt sad and alone, rather than angry. It was all so pointless and stupid. The suffering Vaermina was inflicting was not strengthening her – not even making her happier or more content, Elissa suspected. It was revenge for the sake of revenge, vengeance run mad for some long-forgotten slight, like Arch-Curate Vyrthur's crazy attempt to punish Auriel for allowing him to become a vampire. When she had heard that story in her youth, she had asked Nana why Vyrthur had not simply gone to Falion in Morthal to be cured of his vampirism. Nana had replied, "We're outside the problem; he was inside it. Sometimes being inside a problem blinds you to the solution. That's why you need friends and family, to see what you can't see, and tell you what you don't know. Vyrthur was all alone, and he wouldn't have listened to others even if there had been anyone with him. He was a rat in a trap, but the trap was of his own making, and he had the key in his hand. He just didn't recognize it, and so he couldn't use it."

Now what? This seemed to be the only lit chamber in the entire dismal pile. There were other corridors, but all of them were pitch black, and as far as Elissa could see, there were no lanterns on the walls. Moreover, Azura's gift seemed to have deprived her of her Khajiit ability to see in the dark. She examined the four torches in this room: they were firmly fixed, so she couldn't take one with her, and the prospect of stumbling around in the dark was unappealing. Even if there weren't any traps, parts of this wreck might be structurally unsound, and she had no desire to break a leg. It would be distinctly anticlimactic to return to Moonshadow to borrow a lantern, but that might be unavoidable.

But first, the trapped dreams. Could she release them? She still had a dagger and short sword, untouched in Moonshadow, of course, but they might be useful here. She drew the sword and stabbed down once, twice, three times, into the wells. There was no resistance. Each popped like a balloon when the blade's point touched its surface, and with a whisper and a swirl of fading colours, the contents of each rushed out into the air and dispersed. That should get her attention, she thought, and sheathed the sword again. Stabbing a Daedric Princess might be tempting, given the way Vaermina had been behaving, but it was almost certainly a temptation best avoided.

Something seemed to move in one of the dark corners. Elissa cursed her lack of a torch one moment, and her forgetfulness the next. She didn't need a torch. A bit of Alteration magic wouldn't make the situation any worse, especially something modest and unthreatening like the Candlelight spell. She'd almost forgotten she knew it, but a few seconds later, a glowing ball was hovering over her head, lighting up the space all around her.

There was something standing at the door. Elissa walked forward slowly, until the area was fully lit and she could examine it.

It had the form of a woman, old, thin, and twisted. Glittering black eyes that watched her malignantly; long and glossy black hair, the only part of her with any beauty; lips constantly muttering; skeletal hands moving quickly between positions that Elissa knew were characteristic of spellcasting. The mistress of the house.

Elissa stood before her, quietly, while her hands moved faster and faster, her lips muttered at an ever more frantic pace. Her eyes began to dart about, peering into the corners, as if she was beginning to suspect that there must be a whole platoon of wizards in the shadows backing Elissa up. Finally, her hands paused, and she looked directly at Elissa.

"Are you blind? Why are you just standing there? Don't you know what is going on?" she hissed.

"I am standing in your palace, Lady Vaermina," Elissa replied, her tone respectful. "I am not a high-level mage, but I expect you were casting some spells just then. I don't think they worked very well."

"That's impossible. I was in your mind, in your memories. It doesn't even matter if you were blind. You would still see it. Everyone you love, I burned alive."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Lady Vaermina. My friends and family do not live in my head, but on Tamriel. If you tried to terrify me with illusions of them burning, that wasn't a very nice thing to do, and it failed."

"Maybe burning doesn't frighten you. Maybe you've got some Dark Elf in you. I'll tear off their skin instead, then."

"That wouldn't be very nice either," Elissa said quietly. "And it would be just as useless. You can do nothing to me. I'll stand here and let you cast your spells until you realize that." A plan was beginning to put itself together in her mind.

Another flurry of muttering and finger-waving. Elissa yawned and scratched her bottom. Vaermina screamed with rage.

"You didn't see that? Don't tell me you didn't see that, you liar! I ripped your boyfriend's cock off and sewed it up in his mouth. Then I impaled him on a red-hot stake! And you just don't seem to care. You must have the coldest heart in all Tamriel."

"I should worry about filthy fantasies that I can't even see?" Elissa replied. Her voice remained mild, but she was beginning to get annoyed. It looked like it was going to be a long evening.

Then something occurred to her. Vaermina's Illusion spells failed time after time, but when they did, she just cast another Illusion spell, and suffered another failure. She's a one-trick pony, Elissa said to herself. She's bet the house on these useless Illusion spells. She's obsessed with them. Damn, they must be powerful – when they work. But she's a Daedric Princess after all. I'd better get moving before she gets tired of failing with her illusions and starts to toss fireballs at me instead.

"Maybe you care more about that old hag lizard you call Nana," Vaermina snarled. "Let's work her over next. I'm going to take a thorny branch and stick it right up her..."

Vaermina got no further. Elissa stepped forward suddenly and slapped her across the face, hard. Vaermina stood there with her mouth open. Then she slowly raised her hand to her reddening cheek.

"You hit me," she said in a quiet voice. She sounded bewildered.

"Damned right I hit you, bitch. I'll hit you again if you don't stop this perverted little game you're playing."

Elissa didn't have to fake her anger. She'd had enough, Daedric Princess or no Daedric Princess. Time for my plan, she thought. I just hope she's not as horrible as she seems, or it might not work at all.

"You can't kill me," Vaermina said, but her voice was weak and trembling. "I'm a Daedric Lord. You can never kill me, no matter what you do, no matter how powerful you are. Even if you were another Daedric Lord. I'll just come back and kill you. Come back over and over again if I have to."

"No, I can't kill you," Elissa snapped. "But I can damned well hurt you, as many times as I want. You're afraid of that, aren't you? Guess what, bitch. I've read Spirit of the Daedra and I know all the ways I can hurt you. And I think that's what I'm going to do right now. Let's see how much you like it when it's you on the receiving end."

Vaermina gave a loud sob as she tried to turn and run. Elissa kicked her feet out from under her. She hit the floor in a clumsy sprawl. Elissa walked up to her, and then, very deliberately, smashed a boot-heel down on Vaermina's right hand. Hard. She felt bones breaking. Vaermina screamed.

"How do you like it now, bitch? Pain's only fun if you're on the giving end. Sucks to be the receiver, doesn't it?"

This is nasty, Elissa thought. But now she won't be casting any spells any time soon. One less thing to worry about.

Vaermina cradled her injured hand and began to cry. She rocked back and forth on the floor, tears running down her face, as Elissa glared at her.

"Tell me why I should stop hurting you."

There was no answer. Vaermina just continued to cry and rock, nursing her hand.

"Tell me why I should stop hurting you."

Still no answer.

"Right. You like to show people pictures of things that they hate to see, things that make them sick, things that kill them. Well, kill is off the table, Miss Daedric Princess, lucky for you, but I've got a few pictures that you're going to hate to see. I can play your game right back at you, and I think that's what I'm going to do next."

Elissa grabbed Vaermina and began dragging her towards the front entrance. Vaermina tried to struggle, but she was no stronger than a child, only skin and bone. When Elissa gave her a rough shake and snarled at her "Want the other hand broken too, bitch?", Vaermina gave up and went limp.

It's an addiction, Elissa realized. Her illusions are consuming her. Maybe that's the only reason she's attacked Tamriel, the addict's need for more and more and more. More and more hate, more and more violence, more and more pain. More and more strain on her. She can't think straight any longer. She's like some derelict in a back alley, sucking on a skooma bottle. A Daedric Princess might not be able to die, but she can become obsessed, addicted. It would be better to be dead forever than to spend eternity in the claws of something like that. By all the gods, I hope my little trick works.

Elissa dragged Vaermina through the entrance, carrying her face down so that she could not see the portal to Moonshadow. Nearly there, she thought. Just one more dose of the nasty, and I'll be done. I hope I never have to do this again. It's making me sick.

They reached the portal. Elissa dumped Vaermina down right in front of it, as roughly as she could manage, and knelt down beside her. Vaermina was crying hard now, her body shaking with sobs. She was trying to cover her eyes with her hands, but Elissa jerked the good one down, away from her face. Her tears made long dark streaks down her face before falling into the stinking dust, but her eyes remained tightly shut.

Elissa snarled at her, one last time, almost shouting. "Open your eyes, bitch. Look at what you've done. Look! You did this, you're responsible, for all of it. You can't run away from it. Open your damned eyes or I'm going to start work on your other five fingers."

She grabbed Vaermina's good hand and began, very slowly, to bend her index finger back to the breaking point. Come on, you stupid bitch, Elissa thought. Don't make me do this. Don't, damn you! Open your eyes!

Vaermina's whole body jerked as she convulsively forced her eyelids open. She stared in front of her, into Moonshadow.

And she saw the meadow of glowing flowers.

The flowers that she had created with her own hands, so many years ago now.

Elissa released Vaermina's finger, and lowered her hand gently to her side. She leaned forward, and spoke to Vaermina again, but this time very softly.

"Look at what you did. Look at the flowers. They're beautiful. Welcome home, Weaver of the Panoply."

-o-o-o-

Before she left to return to Tamriel, Elissa had one last audience with the Queen of Dusk and Dawn.

"You took a terrible risk, daughter. Lady Vaermina is a master of Destruction magic as well as the Illusion school. If you hadn't taken her so much by surprise, and injured her so that she couldn't cast spells, she could have killed you in an instant."

"There was no other way. At least, no other way that I could see. Onikaan koraav gein miraad. 'It is wise to recognize when you only have one choice.' One of my grandmom's favourite sayings, from the dragon language. There was only one choice. I took it. And you know the price I paid for the entrance ticket. Damned if I was going to leave before the show was over."

Elissa paused for a moment, and shook her head. Then she continued.

"The worst part wasn't the danger. It was having to hurt her, deliberately, hurt her badly, to snap her out of her obsession. I hated that. Remembering how the bones in her hand broke when I stamped on it makes me want to throw up. She was helpless, and I tortured her. I didn't have the right, could never have the right, not with a Daedric Princess, not with a beggar woman. I felt...when I was planning it, doing it, I felt my grandmom, the Dragonborn, standing beside me and warning me, 'Don't go too far. You're in danger. Don't go too far.' Her whole life, she faced the same dilemma, how much evil can you use to bring about good. I don't have her strength. I don't want to have that decision to make ever again."

"I understand," the Lady of Roses replied. "But you should know, my daughter, there are few anywhere who are better qualified to make such a decision. If you have to face that situation again, your courage and wisdom will see you through to the end."

"Thanks to your grace and support, Queen of Dusk and Dawn, my work here is over. I should return to Tamriel now. Time is passing, and my parents and friends will be concerned for me."

"You know what it means to return, daughter," the Lady of Roses said. "You can stay here longer, if you choose."

Elissa shook her head.

"Thank you for your great grace, Queen of Dusk and Dawn. But I am a mortal and my proper place is in the mortal world. I will live and die on Tamriel, praising your name to all who will listen."

"Let us go to the portal, then. Lady Vaermina is waiting there. She wishes to thank you one last time before you depart."

Elissa walked down the silver palace steps and across the field of glowing flowers, following Lady Azura at what she hoped was a respectful distance. She knew that this was not only the last time she would see Moonshadow. It was the last time she would see. She hadn't bothered to ask if there was some cure, now that she had succeeded in her task. That changed nothing, she knew. When she returned to Tamriel, she would be blind.

-o-o-o-

Six weeks of mortal time had passed since Elissa had stepped into the glowing portal that had formed at Azura's shrine, high in the mountains of northern Cyrodiil. She arrived back at the shrine to find that her fame had preceded her. Lady Azura had granted a series of visions to her faithful, announcing her return and praising her deeds. She travelled back to the Imperial City in comfort, listening to people tell her how they had suffered from the dream-plague, and how much they owed her for risking her life to end it. But she saw nothing, and in spite of having prepared herself as well as she could, she slowly became more and more depressed.

As soon as she arrived back in the Imperial City, Elissa sent a message to Arenara, suggesting they meet for dinner at the Broken Spear the following night.

"He's one of the nicest young men you've ever taken up with, so I certainly don't disapprove of the relationship. But I'm sure he wouldn't be insulted if you took a few more days to get used to things," her mother remarked. "He was around here several times while you were away, asking if there was any news of you."

"Bright fellow," her father added. "He's published a few things as well. Looks like a hard worker. We ended up talking for hours the second time he visited. You've never gone out with idiots, Akatosh be praised, but he's still one of the smarter ones, I think."

"Yeah," Elissa replied. She was sitting in an armchair, nursing a sore hind paw, one that she'd slammed into a chair leg three times in a day and a half. "He's a wonderful guy. And I'm blind as a bat, falling over my paws, shutting my tail in doors, knocking things off shelves. I need a safety railing built around me, damn it. Blindness stinks."

"But you..." her father began. Elissa interrupted him impatiently.

"I know, I know. I'm a great hero. Dad, seriously, I haven't forgotten. I was there myself, remember? Saw it all with my very own eyes, back when they still worked, that is. But it doesn't stop me being a public menace now. Maybe they should just stuff me and put me up on a gilded pedestal in the Imperial Palace, and dust me once a day."

"Which reminds me," her father said. "They want to see you up there, of course. I'm just guessing here, but I think it has something to do with your saving the Empire from a plague, something along those general lines. Anyway, you set the time. They know you're having some adjustment problems."

"I'll drop them a line once I'm sure I won't accidentally knee the Emperor in the groin or something."

Elissa stood up and looked around, from force of habit, and then snorted at her own stupidity.

"Where's Nana? I haven't heard her voice for a while."

"She went to bed," her mother replied. "She sleeps more and more now. She may have elven blood, but even that has its limits. She's unbelievably old. I think she's exhausted, as well. She scarcely slept at all when you were away."

"Oh, wonderful. Elissa, the walking fountain of calamities," Elissa said. She turned in the direction she guessed her father was.

"I'm not saying I wouldn't do it again. It had to be done. That's precisely what stank about it. Lady Azura gave me a chance to refuse, she tried to be fair, but the situation left me no choice at all. I'm not angry at any living being, mortal or daedra. I'm just pissed off at fate. Mom?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Help me get to my bedroom without leaving a trail of destruction in my wake," Elissa said. "I need my beauty sleep. Big date tomorrow night."

"Of course, dear."

The two moved slowly out of the room, leaving her father sitting in his chair, lost in thought.

-o-o-o-

By the time they got to their table in the Broken Spear, Elissa had tripped over two chairs, knocked a platter out of a waiter's hands, and walked into a wall. No one became angry at her: everyone knew why she was blind, and how new it was to her, and it put them into a very forgiving mood. But she still felt miserable. Even more miserable at how attentive Arenara was being to her. He guided her into her chair and kissed her on the neck, kneeling beside her. She just put her arm around him, leaned her head against his, and began to cry. What a thing to do in a restaurant, she thought, trying to pull herself together. I just have to get used to being useless. Hah, a paradox. Used to being useless. I am so clever.

By the middle of the main course, Elissa's misery had flattened down into a featureless depression. Arenara hovered over her, helping her eat, planting little kisses on her face and paws, talking about how everyone had missed her – how he had missed her, and how frightened he had been when he found out that she had disappeared into Oblivion. And that everything would be the same as before; she would soon learn to cope with her blindness, and it didn't make any difference to him anyway. And so on and so forth. Deep in depression, Elissa couldn't believe a word of it, but she also realized that she was very happy that he cared enough to make the effort.

She had kept her head down for nearly the whole meal. It didn't make much sense to look around, after all. But she jerked up instinctively at an unusually loud clatter of pans from the kitchen, and froze. Arenara looked at her in alarm. "What's wrong, love? You're just staring off into space."

"Look over your shoulder. Is there a big fellow sitting alone at a table behind and to your left, sort of keeping an eye on us? Black hair, stocky, looks like he enjoys life?"

Arenara was stunned. "You can see him? Yes, there is. How did you know? Is your sight coming back?"

"No, it isn't," she said, carefully. "But I can see him. That's...interesting."

"I don't understand..."

"You will. Very soon. Don't worry, it's almost certainly not something bad." She thought for a moment. "Go over there and ask him if he would like to join us for dessert. Don't ask questions. Just go. And let me do the talking when he gets here, OK?"

Elissa rose to her feet as the figure approached their table, and gave a slight bow.

"I am honoured, Lord Sanguine, Daedric Prince of Sensual Indulgences and Dark Pleasures. What business brings you here tonight?"

She had trouble stopping herself from giggling as she imagined the expression that must be on Arenara's face at that moment. My friends, she thought, amused. You might as well start getting used to them.

"Oh, just the usual errand-running," Sanguine said, in a more than usually avuncular tone, as he drew up a chair and sat down. "I'm too nice a guy, I get used. But seriously now, we all owe you a lot for straightening out that situation with old Vaermina. Vaer-meany, I used to call her. You put her right back on track. She's giving out as many good dreams as bad ones now, and she's stopped stealing from the stock like an underpaid Argonian dock worker. She got knocked out of balance by a quarrel with Mephala... over my affections, actually... I should have been firmer with both of them, but you know, you let these things slip by. And next thing I know, Hermaeus Mora, him with the mommy issues, has sent his Seekers over to Vaermina's place and trashed it, and she's so pissed off that she turns hostile to everybody, and I mean everybody. Mortals got the worst of it, because they couldn't fight back. I don't think any of us could have put a stop to it. It was because you were a mortal yourself, and weren't supposed to be there, and were supposed to drop dead or go nuts at her little picture show, but you didn't. I have to give it to you, it was a brilliant move to shove her face into her own good works in the past. She'll never be Mrs. Benevolence-And-Righteousness, but she's a much more tolerable neighbour than before. We might even get some new plant life out of it. Hope so, anyway; I'm tired of the vines we have now. After four or five thousand years, the old patterns get a bit stale."

"You really flatter me too much, Lord Sanguine. Of course you know I could have done nothing without the assistance of Lady Azura. It was more her victory than mine."

"Pah. Azura's lived next to that mess for four thousand years and never made a move. Not that I'm criticizing – you could say the same about me, of course. Sometimes an outsider's the only one you can turn to. Though I understand you're an insider now in at least a few ways, one of which is a damned nuisance unless we can find you a restaurant where the waiters – and furniture – are all daedra."

"Yes. It left me blind to everything except those such as you, from the planes of Oblivion. But that was the price, and the Lady of Roses never tried to pretend otherwise. She told me right at the start that there was nothing that could be done about it, and I have accepted that."

"Weeeell... She's right, in a way. But if you're a bit sneaky and a Daedric Lord, there are a few workarounds. Of course Azura remembered them at the last minute, after you'd left, and they were a bit tricky to arrange. So I end up having to chase you down here. Good beer in this place, though. That makes up for some of it."

"You spoke of workarounds..."

"Yes. And the one that finally worked the best was my idea. Now where did I put..."

Lord Sanguine rummaged about in his coat pockets for a while, and took hold of something small and alive and daedric – Elissa could see it as well as she could see him. It was a bird of some kind. He brought it out, smoothed it off, and perched it on his hand.

"There. One of Nocturnal's nightingales. A daedra, so it's very durable. Your own personal roving eyeball, so to speak."

He twitched his hand, and the nightingale fluttered over to Elissa's shoulder.

"I see, you hear, boss," it said into her ear. "I can sit on your shoulder or circle above you, or get out in front. And then plop myself back on your shoulder and tell you all about it. I can read books out loud for you, too. Any known language. No job too big or too small. And I love my work! Anything's better than being forged into a fucking warhammer and having to nurse a headache for the rest of eternity."

"And since it never has to sleep, it makes a first-class alarm system as well," Sanguine added.

"Please express my deepest gratitude to Nocturnal and everyone else concerned, Lord Sanguine. This will go a long way towards compensating for the abilities I have lost."

"Ah, it isn't much. Nocturnal wasn't going to miss a nightingale or two. It's just that she and Azura don't exactly get along, so I had to de-emphasize some of your experiences to get my hands on that bird. And old uncle Sanguine always has a string or two to pull, even with someone as irritable as Nocturnal. Let's just say she got hers as well. And may very well be a bit less irritable for a while. Can't be more specific. She'd probably try to kill you, and everyone within a two-block radius of you, if she even suspected that you knew."

Elissa smiled. "Well, ignorance is bliss, then. Thank you again."

The bird chipped in, "I can sing, too. Goes with the whole nightingale shtick. Usual bird-songs, goes without saying, but I also do the Fifty Biggest Hits of the Septim Dynasty, except for the one that uses all those damned drums. I could do that, too, in theory, but you really don't want to know how."

She reached up to her shoulder and stroked the "bird" gently.

It continued, "And since I'm really a daedra and not a bird, I'll never shit on your shoulder."

"Better and better," Elissa replied.

Sanguine raised a stubby finger and smiled again.

"That's not all. I suppose you gathered from the general ambiance of Quagmire that Vaer-meany wasn't enjoying life much either. But she'd got herself into a trap. And, like Lord Jyggalag, she's grateful to the person who got her out of it, even though you had to slap her around a bit. So she sent a present as well. She should have given it to you in person, she said, but it took her a while to sort out all her stuff. It's not quite as snazzy as the daedric throne that the Hero of Kvatch got, but still pretty good."

He reached inside his waistcoat and produced something that Elissa couldn't see; it obviously wasn't daedric in itself. The bird sidled up to her ear and said, "Wooden box. Looks expensive."

"Arenara, could you open that, dear? And tell me what's inside?" He mumbled assent, and she heard the lid of the box sliding off.

There was the clink of glass, and a low whistle from Arenara. "If this is what I think it is..."

The bird added, "Glass vials full of very tiny red seeds. A boxful of them."

"Bingo." Sanguine said, and chuckled. "Nothing more nor less than a hell of a lot of bloodgrass seeds, all guaranteed fertile. Vaermina's feeling a little guilty for neglecting her planting over the past few millennia. I happened to mention that the bloodgrass brought here during the Oblivion Crisis has almost died out, owing to the fact that the seeds of that strain were never very fertile and it's been two hundred years since it was introduced. So she sent these along to 'keep you going until Dagon has another kick at the cat' – she still has an odd sense of humour – hope you don't mind."

Arenara reached over and gripped Elissa's paw.

"The price of bloodgrass has gone through the roof over the last twenty years," he said, in a voice that he tried to keep calm and dispassionate. "The people picking it have been too greedy, and it's just about gone extinct in the wild. It never spread far from the sites of the old Oblivion Gates, anyway. Only a few greenhouses have ever been able to grow it successfully – it's as big a nightmare to raise as nirnroot, because the seeds are nearly all infertile. This amount of fertile seed would grow into hundreds of thousands of septims' worth of adult plant, and if it's a strain that produces fertile seeds itself, that would only be the beginning. This box is more valuable than it would be if it were full of diamonds. A lot more valuable."

Elissa gave Arenara a squeeze back, and turned to Sanguine again.

"Please thank Lady Vaermina, Vaermina the Gifter, for us. It was an honour to be able to assist her, and I am very glad that she feels better now. With beings as powerful as Daedric Lords, the happier and more content they are, the better it is for mortals as well."

Lord Sanguine rose from the table.

"Well, I guess you could say that. We're a pretty bitchy lot, though. Always looking for the dark cloud around the silver lining. Say, Arenara – that is your name, isn't it? – do you by any chance know of a decent whorehouse in this town? I'd ask the bartender, but they always tell you about the ones that pay them off, not the ones that give the best service."

"If money's no object, the best one in town is just across from the Tiber Septim hotel and a bit to the right, the building with the two green lights at the door. Used to be a private residence. Still pretty classy inside. If they don't have it, you probably shouldn't be asking for it," Arenara replied. Elissa kicked him under the table, and he winced, but Sanguine didn't seem to notice.

"Thanks, both of you." Sanguine shook Arenara's hand, and then Elissa's.

"The pleasure was ours. Thank you very, very much. And it was nice talking to someone I can see, for once."

"Who knows, I could be back next week if Azura finds you a new set of eyeballs. Don't get your hopes up, though. G'bye now." With a last wave, Sanguine turned and disappeared through the outside door into the street.

Elissa and Arenara sat down again. Elissa leaned over the table and hissed, "Someone else is going to need a new set of balls if he isn't careful. How do you know so much about whorehouses?"

"From helping to edit The Bachelor's Guide to the Imperial City, of course," Arenara replied, in a mild tone of voice. "Don't worry. Not from personal experience. The one I sent him to costs too damn much for ordinary mortals, anyway. But it takes first place in all the tourist 'Best in the City' lists."

"Oh, I suppose. Makes sense. Sorry I'm so jumpy," Elissa replied, in a flat, emotionless voice. Despite all the good news – or maybe even because of it – she was feeling deflated again, slowly sliding back into a depression. She had an unbreakable daedric "bird" to read books out loud for her and trill its way through Ragnar the Red on demand. She had a not-small-at-all fortune in bloodgrass seed. But she was still blind. Still blind, still defective. And forever was still forever. She couldn't get it out of her head.

They stood up, and Arenara took her arm.

"Time for bed. We even have the same chamber as before."

Elissa sighed. "I wish everything were the same as before."

They walked slowly across the lobby and up the stairs. Arenara had a worried look on his face now, but Elissa was as blind to that as she was to everything else, and so it made her depression no worse.

-o-o-o-

Elissa and Arenara lay side by side in the dark, holding each other quietly. She had asked him just to hold her for the time being, that she needed to think. "But in bed, with your arms around me," she had added.

Finally, after about half an hour, Elissa laughed. She felt much better. Her depression had lifted. Blind was still blind, eternity was still eternity, but that wasn't the whole picture, not at all. There were those arms around her as well...

"Bored yet?" And she began to nuzzle at Arenara.

"No. You're warm, and soft, and I can feel your heart beating. You're alive, and here, and for the time being, safe. That's what matters."

He paused, and went on in a whisper.

"I was frightened when you were away. That you might never come back. Your parents tried to reassure me, but I couldn't stop worrying. Couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. I could listen to your heart beat forever. Just so as I know you're safe."

Elissa laughed again, and began to lick Arenara's chest, as if she were grooming him. He brought his head down and kissed her ears and the top of her head. Then she snuggled up under his chin again, and laughed a third time.

"Share the joke, Elissa. No fair trying to make me guess."

Her father had told Arenara about his daughter's fondness for riddles. He suddenly realized that he'd spent a lot more time with her parents than with her, what with all the visits when she had been away. And that they had treated him as family, as if they could see further than he could into a future that at the time had been unclear.

"We've talked a few hours, eaten dinner together three times. Spent the night together once, though we certainly did everything more than once during that night. Worried about each other, thought about each other... a lot," Elissa began. "In content, spread it out on a table and count it, as of this moment our relationship is still just a few words and plates of food north of a one-night stand. But when the Lady of Roses told me the story of my birth parents, one of the things that I cried for was that I could never bring you home to meet them. Too late, I thought. But then again, the Lady of Roses said that they are very proud of me today, not that they would have been very proud. Dead doesn't mean gone. They watch over me... watch over us still.

"I can sense the spirits of those who have gone before us, I've always been able to, and I've never been frightened of them, because Mom and Dad and Nana... any of them could look Sithis in the eye tomorrow without fear. Where they are, they are loved; where they will go one day, they will be honoured. We've paid our debts and kept faith with our foremothers, the Dragonborn and Shahvee, and with beautiful sad Elissa, my namesake, who died long before I was born. My family, though some are related by blood and some by bond, is all one, forever.

"You come from a very different background. No less honourable, but another world. Imperials, solid traders and soldiers and administrators. People who build things... who build empires, roads, bridges, harbours, palaces, piece by piece, in the light of the world. Who deal with the solid and measurable, and have little time or patience for phantoms. Who sleep soundly and wake up refreshed, and do not often dream when they sleep. For them, "dreaming" is a metaphor for a time of free thinking when plans for the future are born, broad and vague. It's how the ambitious begin something new, nothing more complex or numinous. If they have a dream, they set to work to define it, and then to make it come true. They don't live in the dream; they realize it.

"Can you, coming from such solid and reliable stock, put up with the daughter of a family that has trouble distinguishing its living members from its dead? That venerates Sithis not only as the Dread Lord but as the Creator of all? That has drawn up covenants with dragons and negotiated treaties with vampires? That has teased Mehrunes Dagon, Lord of Destruction, at his own shrine, and chatted with the Lord of Debauchery over dessert? I don't think tonight will be the last time, love. Lord Sanguine will be back, especially since you gave him that hot tip on the best whorehouse in town. He appreciates things like that. Better read up on the local breweries or something.

"All of them, the Powers, light and dark – they are as close as family, and I honour them as such. Azura, Lady of Roses, Queen of Dusk and Dawn, calls me daughter. I have wandered the meadows of her realm of Moonshadow, lit by a light never seen on land or sea, a world so lovely that I cannot even begin to describe it. Can you follow me there, in mind if not perhaps in body? Come with me to gather bloodgrass in the Deadlands, or skim the shelves of the endless library of Apocrypha? Probably you can imagine yourself sword in hand against daedric foes, fighting to a victory like that which the mortal races celebrated at the end of the Oblivion Crisis. But I walk among them as a friend, not an enemy. Can you put aside hasty judgement, and be their friend as well?"

Arenara hardly hesitated in his answer, as if he had had known the question before it could be asked. For a moment, he did nothing but hold Elissa very tightly, as if to reassure himself that she was there as a real being, not a phantom. Then he relaxed, and answered her.

"What I can put aside, love, is any idea that I know anything at all about these things. I am a complete stranger in a very strange land. I can learn, but the first thing in learning is to accept you don't already know. I'm not being stupidly abject, calling myself or my people blind or empty. If you want to build a bridge or dredge a harbour, we're still the ones to call. We mill grain and refine metal far quicker and with far better results than any priest or medium. But no one person or group is expert in everything. In the areas you just mentioned, I will have to learn a great deal before I can even begin forming opinions of my own. Until that time, and I suspect for a long time after it as well, I will defer to you."

Elissa rubbed herself against him, luxuriantly. Damn, did she ever need to purr. Covering Arenara's face with quick kisses and licks was hardly an adequate substitute, but it was the best she could think of on the spur of the moment. And there were still a few things she wanted to say before they got into the sort of interactions that make conscious thought superfluous.

"I'm happy. Blind and happy. Never thought I'd say that, but... It's still awful not being able to see, when I'm walking around in a restaurant or crossing a street, but like this – in the dark, warm, your arms around me – I can't torture myself about it, or anything. I'm just happy. Blind, but happy. If the happy lasts forever, I guess I can put up with the blind." She began kissing Arenara a bit more deeply, and running her paws through his hair, but after a moment or two, he gently drew away. He had something more to say as well.

"Just one more thing..."

She replied, giggling, "What a coincidence. I have just one more thing to say as well. Great minds, and all that. Your thing before my thing, my dear. It's probably bigger."

"It's huge, but not hard at all. But I don't think that will disappoint you. Will you marry me? I know it's crazy to ask so quickly, especially since there's no pressure from our families. But I'm sure, and I'm sure you're sure too."

"And since I'm sure that you're sure that I'm sure, all that there is that's left to say is sure. Yes. Yes. I've never been surer about anything."

"So what did you want to say?" Arenara was beginning to laugh himself now.

"Um...well...Oh damn, I'll just say it. Get me pregnant. Now."

She raised a paw and made a scissoring motion with her first two fingers.

"If you ever pull out before you finish again, I'm cutting it off. Seriously."

Arenara had just begun to lick her ears. He didn't miss a beat. After he had finished both ears, he touched noses with Elissa and replied.

"Both I and my bridge-building stone-cutting sewer-digging ancestors consider that a superb idea. Elegant and practical. Forward-looking and positive. And if I may add to their opinions, enjoyable as well. You can put the scissors into permanent retirement. But you do know that the further apart the races, the longer it usually takes to catch, even though nearly everybody gets there in the end?"

"Two, three years? Couldn't be better. It will take at least that long to master all the tricks I'll need to get around this fucking blindness."

Arenara was licking and nuzzling Elissa's throat now, working his way down towards her breasts. He paused for a moment and said,

"While fucking blindness is never a good thing, you can't say the same of blind..."

"Oh, shush, you. Stop being so analytic. It's the springtime of our lives, and we both have seeds to plant. Get to it."

-the end-