Disclaimer
I only own the plot and my original characters.
Previously:
Estoril is 10 and she is doing well with her magical studies. Although, her teacher, Master Sinyir, thinks that she is as arrogant as her father. Estoril doesn't want to do the homework Master Sinyir assigns her and instead wants to practice elemental cloaking spells. On her way to do that after her lesson, her mother stops her. Estoril begrudgingly follows her mother into her sitting room. Mother tells Estoril that she is going to Skyrim to work as the Second Emissary at the Thalmor Embassy there. She asks Estoril if she wants to come with her - Estoril coldly declines because she is very loyal to her father. The next day, her father introduces Altrada and her son, Ondolemar. Altrada has been sent by the Thalmor Council to watch Estoril's father due to his unpopular political views. After a while, Estoril and Ondolemar go off on their own. While they are walking around outside they run into Hesselle, she invites them to go along with her to explore a cave she had just discovered. In the cave , the three come across a bear that attacks them .Estoril manages to save them from it with a flame cloak spell, however, she harms herself in the process due to her inexperience.
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Chapter 3- In which things are left unsaid.
Cloudrest- Alinor ( Summerset Isles )
Sundas, 21st Day of Sun's Dawn, 4E 188
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I am no longer a child.
I should feel older. But I do not.
I glance upon my reflection in the mirror and am not sure I like what I see. I suppose I do not look how I expected I would. I am not particularly beautiful. However, my displeasure does not stem from the fact that I do not possess the traditional Altmer standard of beauty. That fact has stopped mattering to me a long time ago. No, the discontent which I direct at my mirror image is caused by it's evident immaturity. No matter how hard I try, I lack 'it'. The effortless confidence that father and the other Thamor whom I have met- and am to meet again today- is what I yearn to possess. It always seems just out of my reach, and in social settings I find myself becoming a bumbling fool again. I cannot seem to manage anything but a pathetic mimicry of the cool confidence that I too should possess.
That I should possess today- but know I will not, cannot.
After all, these things take time, something I do not have in abundance at the moment.
I notice then that there is a crack in the corner of the mirror. If you did not look hard for it you would never notice it, but that does not negate the fact that it is still there. It taunts me. It reminds me that just like it I shall never be perfect. I may have had the innate potential to be just that-flawless. Yet, due to variables out of my control I cannot be perfect, and I carry that scar of imperfection everywhere with me for all the world to see if they know just the right place to look.
My dear, your imperfections are a mere indicator of your youth. You try so hard to act so mature. Stop trying to grow up so fast! While uniformity may be held in very high regard by our society, it cannot be expected of one so young such as yourself! You have centuries to perfect yourself!
Oh, and mother will not leave me alone.
I really really should not be having these thoughts. Today is without a doubt the most significant day in my life. I cannot afford any measure of failure. Today I do what I have always wanted to do.
Today I join the Thalmor.
But where is father? He said that he would come to get me at half past eleven, and now it is eleven thirty-five. I do not want to make a bad first impression on father's colleagues and underlings in the local Thalmor leadership.
Just as this thought runs through my mind father saunters through the door.
"Do make haste, Estoril. I do not want my daughter to make a bad first impression on my colleagues in the local Thalmor leadership."
I do not bother correcting him that such an impression would not be made due to tardiness on my behalf -but rather on his. Instead I nod my head and obediently follow father out the door. As we walk briskly through the long hallways of our home I go through a mental checklist of the mannerisms that I must employ today; stand straight and do not slouch, keep eye contact with whom I talk to, speak with a steady voice, feign disinterest, and above all else do not mention any of father's 'unpopular politics'...Right. Hopefully I will remember all that. May the Eight Divines give me the strength necessary to get through today with the reputation father has built for me intact. My eyes bore into the back of father's skull and I pray that he will not leave me to fend for myself today. While it is in my nature to seek independence, I am no fool. I know when to ask for aid when I find myself in 'uncharted waters'.
When father and I finally emerge from the labyrinth-esque mess of hallways in our home we go to wait outside by the front gate for our carriage driver to appear with our transportation. Today the sky is grey. I happily note that this greyness is also accompanied by a steady drizzle of rain. I take in a deep breath and savor the fresh scent of the forest surrounding us. A scent that is only further enhanced by the moisture in the air.
"Where in Oblivion is Treiss! Why should we have to endure waiting here for even a few minutes in this ghastly weather!" Father complains while trying unsuccessfully to shield his immaculate hair with his arms from the offending water droplets. He looks quite silly the way he waves his hands about above his head. Yet, I make no comment other than humming in agreement. It would do me no good to disagree with father, no matter how insignificant the issue may seem.
When our driver finally arrives from wherever it is he goes when he is off duty, he is immediately forced to endure a tirade from father. I am almost sorry for him. However, I am far more amused. The way that our stringy-haired, shifty-eyed driver appears as if he may burst into tears at any moment is very comical.
Ah yes, your father is ever the tyrant. And you, my daughter, ever the sadist.
Your commentary is unwanted, mother!
When we finally get into the covered carriage I allow my posture to relax slightly in my seat, and father glares at some point of interest out the window. We arrive at the local government's buildings nearly twenty minutes late. This fact only adds to my nerves, just as I am sure it does to father's. At the door we are greeted by two Soldiers, one of whom ushers us in.
" Lord Orthntur, I must leave you and your daughter here and return to my post," the Soldier reports firmly. " If you would please make your way to the main office there will be somebody there whom you are to speak with."
My father nods in recognition of the Soldier's request and then leads me to where we were told to go. To my utter confusion there is nobody occupying the seat behind the large wooden desk. The office is empty. Father too seems confused but sits down regardless. I follow suit and then take to admiring the large Thalmor banner displayed on the wall facing me. I thoroughly enjoy it's simplicity. I am looking forward to receiving my Thalmor robes which also model the same design as the banner.
To say I am surprised when Ondolemar is the one who walks through the door decked out in hooded Thalmor robes would be an understatement. I notice that father tenses, but smiles and greets him amiably. Ondolemar situates himself in the seat across from us, pushes the hood off his head and clasps his hands together in front of him. When father's attention is momentarily distracted by something, I allow myself to grin toothily at Ondolemar who smirks in return.
In the years following the fire cloak incident I, Ondolemar, and Heselle had (quite surprisingly) become a near inseparable trio. In the beginning I had begrudgingly allowed Ondolemar to accompany us on our adventures. I have always been resistant to change, and I did not see why Heselle and I needed another friend. But, due to Heselle's insistence that he follow us everywhere, I came to appreciate his presence. Unlike Heselle whose dedication to Aldmeri customs leaves much to be desired, Ondolemar is fervently traditional. We also bonded easily over our mutual love of Destruction magic.
Thankfully, Heselle quickly got over whatever infatuation she harbored for him. I must commend Ondolemar for so gracefully re-buffing her obvious, many and persistent attempts at seduction. Do be aware that when I say 'seduction' I only mean the juvenile sort that Heselle was capable of showcasing at twelve years of age. Not to say that his rejection did not cause any blows to Heselle's ego-it did. Unsurprisingly, she got over it rapidly, and by the time she hit sixteen plenty young, hot-blooded Altmer males were falling at her feet.
Once Ondolemar turned eighteen he promptly joined the Thalmor-just as I am currently doing. Much to father's chagrin, Ondolemar rejected all the help he offered and instead insisted upon doing things himself. I clearly remember calling Ondolemar a fool-he did not know what sort of opportunity he was passing up. To say my statement displeased him would be an understatement. We did not speak to one another for a few months after that ugly confrontation. Fast forward a few years and despite all his hard work he has not yet reached his goal. While he is indeed in constant contact with the Justiciars there, he has not yet been to Skyrim. He functions as a Liaison Officer operating from our capital, Alinor. Unfortunately his ambitions of reaching Markarth have not come to fruition. I barely held myself from telling Ondolemar "I told you so."
I have to wonder, when did he return from Alinor? How long will he be staying here in Cloudrest? Why is he here in this room?
"Why, Ondolemar, this is quite a pleasant surprise." Father remarks, plastering a hasty smile upon his face." May I inquire as to who put you up to this...task?"
"I did," Ondolemar retorts-while allowing his chin to rest on his clasped hands. "Usually I do not partake in the menial labor required for recruitment, but for Estoril I am willing to suffer."
I cannot help but be pleased by his apparent loyalty -that he still considers me such a close friend -despite the fact that we have not seen much of each other for quite a while.
"Well, in that case, I would like to formally extend to you an invitation to Estoril's birthday celebration tonight," father deadpans. " I am sure you have nothing else on your social calendar for the evening and it will be quite the event. I have personally invited a wide array of Council members, Nobles, and military officials."
My stomach churns.
I had nearly forgotten. Or at least I had tried ( and failed) to forget about my birthday celebration tonight. I foolishly assumed that if I were to put it out of my mind I would be able to deal with it better. Now I feel that familiar rush of social anxiety.
Absolutely brilliant.
"How quaint of you to assume that I have nothing of importance to do tonight," Ondolemar chuckles. "However, today you are right. I would be delighted to attend. That is, if Estoril would like me to. Would you like me to, Estoril?"
Ondolemar eyes me expectantly, and once I recover from surprise at the abrupt, odd question I respond.
"Of course you must attend. I expect nothing less of you! You are one of my closest friends!"
Ondolemar claps his hands and smirks. "Ah, see? The Lady demands it, and so yes, you can expect to see me tonight, Lord Orthntur."
He looks pleased with himself. Why? I know not. Perhaps he wants to give father a hard time by not answering to him directly. How petty. But then again, they never did get along.
" Perhaps we could redirect our attention to the matter at hand," father requests impatiently.
I could not agree with father more. I just want to get on with it. I can barely contain my anxiousness. I hope that the papers I had sent in requesting to join the Thalmor have been approved. It had been such an arduous process with all the interviews, meetings with father's acquaintances, and then the stacks of paperwork. I can scarcely draw breath from nervous anticipation.
"Yes, of course," Ondolemar curtly agrees. " I have all your paperwork here," he says whilst motioning to a familiar-and nearly bursting at the seams- leather dossier. Ondolemar must notice my tense posture because he then says; "do not worry, it has all been approved, it only needs one final signature-mine." I let out an audible sigh of relief which elicits a disdainful look from father. My face flushes in embarrassment.
" Well, why are you dragging this conversation out so long!?" Father remarks impatiently. "Just get on with it already Ondolemar. You and I both know you would not deny my daughter the thing which she wants most."
"I would ask that you address me as a Liaison Officer, but I know I cannot expect such a show of respect from you. But indeed you are right- I would not deny her this. Regardless, let it be known to you that I am doing this for her, not you. Frankly, she has not pieced together a proper sentence since I walked through the door. I would not be hard pressed to find an answer as to why that is. I only ask one thing of you, Lord Orthntur, allow me to have a few private words with her, and then we will not have to deal with each other until tonight at Estoril's birthday party. An event where you will be forced to play nice and show me some respect-if only to save face."
Father considers Ondolemar's proposition for a moment before nodding and promptly vacating the room. I am not sure whether or not I should feel relieved, but I attempt to relax and force an indifferent expression across my face.
What a relief! This room was getting far too small to accommodate your father's ego. I shudder to contemplate what would have happened if he had stayed much longer.
Attempting to ignore mother's snide comments, I notice Ondolemar is staring at me. Why the intense stare? Why will he not speak? What is he waiting for?
"Well," I begin calmly, "Out with it already."
Ondolemar hums in amusement, " Mind your manners, Estoril, I believe there is a certain decorum to be observed when greeting old friends after a long period of separation, is there not? Regardless, I was hoping you could start the conversation. I think I have been doing an inordinate amount of speaking this afternoon."
He is absolutely correct! I raised you to be better, my dear! Where are your manners?
Inwardly cringing at mother's patronizing tone I concede. "Alright, how are you Ondolemar? I admit, I have missed you."
" Ah, now we are getting somewhere. I have been doing very well, considering I have been stuck in the middle of a bureaucratic cesspool at the capitol for the better half of the year. Honestly, we should be handling our strained relations with the Imperials better. Yet, I still do my part despite any annoyances I regularly face."
At least he has a part, whereas I have been on the outside looking in.
"And you, Estoril, tell me how you have been."
"Just fine, I spend most of my time furthering my studies and researching what I hope will be my position once I am officially a member of the Thalmor," I respond mechanically.
"And what is that, exactly," Ondolemar inquires, tilting his head to the side. "I know I could simply look through your papers to find the answer, but I would much rather hear it from you."
"I intend to work in the branch of the Thalmor that deals with terrorist and insurgent groups. Rooting them out and neutralizing their influence, I believe, is a noble cause," I declare evenly.
"A noble cause indeed," Ondolemar remarks. " I assume you will be dealing with the likes of the illusive Psyjic Order? Or perhaps that ever present, pesky group of Artisans that call themselves The Beautiful?"
" I expect far more run ins with The Beautiful, much more so than the Psyjics, what with all of their recent activity," a look of distain crosses my face as I huff incredulously. " And they actually have the gall to consider themselves revolutionaries! You know how those creative types are. Idealistic to a fault. They justify the murders of innocents and destruction of historical landmarks as progress! They are nothing but a terrorist organization."
Ondolemar hums in agreement and then rapps his fingers on the desk nervously. "I assume you have heard the rumors then? That they have been recruiting from within our ranks?"
I scoff at this. He should know better than to believe in such unfounded rumors! Better suited for chatter amongst bored house wives , not Liaison Officers. What would any member of the Thalmor -former or current- have to gain from branding themselves as an equal to that band of glorified murderers? I tell him as much and he shrugs.
"Perhaps you are right, and I am merely paranoid," Ondolemar concedes and a pensive look crosses his face. " Who would want to indeed? Well, I have drawn this out long enough." With that, he picks up his quill and signs the paper. He looks up at me and smiles crookedly.
"Congratulations Lady Estoril, it is official now- you are a member of the Thalmor."
I get up out of my seat and reach across the desk to shake his hand. " Thank you, Liason Officer Ondolemar. I assure you that I will serve Alinor and the Aldmeri Dominion to the best of my ability."
"I am confident that you will," he affirms, grips my hand, and shakes it firmly.
I turn to leave but Ondolemar's voice stops me. " I loathe admit it, but I am unaware what time your birthday celebration begins."
I spin around on the balls of my feet and smirk. " You would loathe to admit that you are unaware of something."
He raises his hands up and shrugs, "Guilty as charged," he concedes.
"It starts at six and goes on until eleven."
"I assume Heselle will be attending?" He questions.
"Of course," I affirm.
With that I leave the room. Finally, I am a member of the Thalmor. Not that I had any doubts that I would be accepted. Father made sure that I would be.
You never needed Orthntur's help either. You are brilliant, my dear. He merely expedited the process.
I would like to agree with you, mother, but you are wrong. I am nowhere near competent enough to have obtained this position without father's connections.
Once I exit the building I see the carriage at the bottom of the entryway steps. Father is inside sleeping. When I take a seat across from him he is alerted of my presence and lets out an odd, undignified yelp. Upon realizing it is only me -and not some political opponent come to assassinate him- he regains his composure.
"What took so long? What did that boy want?" Father asks, clearly annoyed. Then without waiting for an answer yells; " Treiss! Why are we not moving? Take us home!"
As the carriage pulls us away from the governmental buildings and up the long winding road home, father tisks impatiently.
"I am waiting," He demands.
"A-ah, yes, well, he was merely interested in what branch of the Thalmor I wished to work in," I stutter, and cringe at the sound of my voice. So weak.
"Are you sure that is all?" Father probes, and I am reminded of how paranoid he has become in recent years.
"Yes father, he just wanted to speak with me freely as an old friend. You know very well how...intimidating your presence can be," I reassure him.
This answer seems to have satisfied him, because he turns his attention to a book he had brought with him and ignores me the rest of the ride home. When we enter the foyer and are about to part ways father calls out to me with one last parting comment.
"Be sure to change into Thalmor robes immediately for tonight, they should be delivered to your room momentarily," he reminds me.
The celebration was-to put it lightly-a catastrophe.
I tug on the star- shaped buckle of my belt so hard that it comes off, and with an angry shout I hurl it at my bedroom mirror. The mirror shatters and its fragments clatter to the ground. It matters not, the mirror was imperfect to begin with-and I never liked it anyway. I will just buy a new one tomorrow.
Watch your temper, darling.
Shut up you-
You dare speak to your mother in such a manner?
You are not my mother! You are a voice in my head that happens to sound like her!
Whatever keeps you sane, my dear.
She says something else but I somehow manage to block her out. I do not need her patronizing me right now. I do not have the patience to deal with that too.
I suppose the party began without incident. I loitered about the entrance hall greeting each one of the hundred or so guests. Of which there were nobles, council members,military officials, old friends like Ondolemar and Heselle, and the odd social climber. Each guest congratulated me, wished me well, and complimented me on how nicely my Thalmor robes fit. We then all settled down for dinner. The west dining hall was decorated lavishly for the occasion, and father gave a toast to my health. I sat in between Ondolemar and one of his superiors from Alinor. He was a most interesting mer who took interest in my studies of Destruction magic and its surrounding theories. Heselle had decided to sit at a table on the other side of the room next to a few pleasant looking Soldiers, she seemed to be having a wonderful time laughing herself hoarse. By the time my birthday cakes were brought out, I had reached a level of comfort in conversing with everyone and all my social anxiety was forgotten.
Then the door opened.
A latecomer had arrived, and an uninvited latecomer at that. It was Lady Arannelya. The very woman who has been working to discredit and defame father ever since the Great War , father may have said some...unsavory things about her, but she deserved it! That wretch was a coward! Father has told me time and time again about how she had won a major battle in Skaven but failed to continue advancing. Her excuse of exhausted troops was a poor one, and father had attempted to have her tried for desertion and disobeying direct orders. However, this backfired and instead the council ruled in her favor, declaring father delusional and not qualified to make such claims - or any pertaining to the war since he did not participate in direct battle. Since then father has not had the same amount of influence in the council as he used to have, and is limited to presiding over only the regional government of Cloudrest. Perhaps the only reason he even has that much power is due to his noble lineage and sizable fortune. And I am sure the fear he seems to instill in those who oppose him helps.
After the general shock and awkward silence that followed her arrival faded, Lady Arannelya asked one of our servants to find her a seat. She was ushered to a table in a dark corner occupied primarily by junior officers and apprentice wizards.
Her roaring laughter was heard across the room. " Who do you think I am?" She asked between guffaws and tears. " I am a veteran! Not some Junior Officer! So, I will be seated over there," she stated while pointing decisively at my table. " Right by dearest Lord Orthntur's pride and joy."
I swear, the tension that hung in the air was so thick it could be cut by a dagger.
There was no room left at my table, but Ondolemar's senior officer graciously offered Lady Arannelya his seat-right beside mine. After happily sitting down,she cut herself a generous portion of cake. I turned to father - who was seated at the table adjacent to mine- and silently pleaded for assistance. His expression had been grim, and he avoided my gaze.
I was alone.
It did not take long for Lady Arannelya to strike up a conversation with me.
" Ah, I still remember when I turned eighteen, and that was over a century ago," she had confessed wistfully. " Tell me, Estoril -that is your name, is it not?-How does it feel?" Lady Arannelya had questioned, to which I had replied that she needed to specify her meaning.
"Oh! I am certain you know exactly what I mean! Joining the Thalmor only because your father pulled some strings with whatever shred of influence he has left. I must know how that feels, does the guilt keep you up at night, child?"
I had wanted to answer. Truly, I had. I had wanted to tell her off in front of every one of my guests for the shameless audacity of her statements. Yet, I had found myself at a loss. There was a lump in my throat and I tried to swallow, when that had not worked I grabbed my silver goblet and drank deeply in an attempt to clear my throat. Instead I began to choke. Thankfully Ondolemar gave me a few hard pats on the back and I ceased coughing. I was mortified, and my face must have been flushed bright red.
When I gathered enough courage to meet Lady Arannelya's gaze again she was eyeing me with an expression saturated with pity.
"Oh you poor, poor girl. You are nothing but a puppet. Do you not see how your father uses you to regain his standing?"
My eyes had dropped from hers. Keeping eye contact with her was unbearable. Never before had I experienced such embarrassment. Why had father not intervened? Then I dared to look up at the other guests. They had all either been giving me sideways glances or had been blatantly staring. All of them had whispered amongst themselves.
Then music began to play.
In an attempt to dispel the awkwardness of the situation, the bards father had hired had begun to play a cheerful melody. But the damage had been done. I had stared at my half eaten slice of cake, and with a shaky hand speared it with my fork and stiffly shoved it into my mouth. I could feel Lady Arannelya's eyes staring intently at the side of my head, willing me to be brave and look back at her. She clearly wanted to say something more. And then Ondolemar came to my rescue by asking me to dance. I had accepted quickly, and we joined the various couples merrily dancing over by the bards. We quickly fell into step with the others and I had forced myself to focus on nothing else but the dance's steps.
The rest of the evening I avoided Lady Arannelya like Ataxia. Mercifully, she did not attempt to approach me. I made polite conversation with most of my guests and eventually got around to catching up with Heselle-who had spent most of the night dancing and having a merry time.
I had not seen Heselle since she turned eighteen two years ago. She refused to join the Thalmor, despite her parent's wishes. A fact that did not surprise me. Instead she is currently studying Alteration magic in Lillandril with some Master trainer. It had been wonderful to speak with her at long last, but her answers to any questions I had asked her were very vague. It seemed like she had been avoiding something. I also noticed that she kept glancing about the room suspiciously when she had thought I was not looking. However, I had not put much thought into it and instead simply enjoyed her company. After a while Ondolemar joined us and we reminisced about the good old days when we were still children. For a while, their company helped me forget the mortifying experience I had had with Lady Arannelya.
At eleven the guests had begun to filter out slowly. Ondolemar and Heselle remained until all the other guests had left. When we were finally alone I had embraced both of them, promised them I would stay in touch, and then they too had left. The servants had already begun to clean up so I decided to stay out of their way and began to leave.
Then I was yanked back abruptly by the collar of my robes and spun around. It had been father- seething with anger. He had told me how weak I had been -just like my mother-and how he was terribly ashamed to call me his daughter. My ears had begun to ring by how loudly he screamed. After he finished reprimanding me he slammed me hard against the wall by my collar-causing my nose to bleed and my right cheek to bruise. I slid down the wall and he had left me lying crumpled on the floor.
I deserved that. I had been weak.
Now I stare at the broken glass at my feet. I find it strangely beautiful. Is it possible to find perfection in something so broken? I reach down and pick up a mirror fragment and study it intently. It gives me no answers. I toss it back down and proceed to tear off my robes and discard them haphazardly until I am left in nothing but my underwear. In my haste to disrobe I lose my footing and trip. I cover my face with my arms to break the fall and land front first onto the shards. I feel them digging into my exposed skin but make no movement to get up. Instead I allow myself to relax despite the pain. I know there must be blood oozing out of numerous cuts sustained from fall.
Good.
Happy Birthday, Estoril, my dear.