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Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
xxx
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.

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With every week leading up to the invasion, life became noisier and more complicated for the Silent City. Logistics moved at greater volume. New faces arrived every day from around Tamriel. But, what started as a brief taste of the cosmopolitan turned rapidly into the stringent order of a military encampment.

There was some cordial intermingling between the Legion, the Dominion, and the Clan. The Legion and the Dominion always crossed paths in a suitably tense manner, but on their own they were surprisingly professional individuals. No amount of rudeness, condescension, or fear added up to anything tangibly disruptive while the officers had oversight.

There was even some trade and social interaction between clanspeople and the soldiers. Only one or two incidents caused by bad eggs on either side turned into scuffles. On both occasions, the complicit parties were properly punished as examples to the rest. Fendros found himself mediating in these incidents, but he was relieved to find the tasks easier than many others he had overseen: Legate General Gro-Tagnud and Commander Teroiah may not have seen eye-to-eye, but they were just as much in competition as to the discipline of their forces.

Sabine wished it were so easy to bring into line the mages assigned to the clan's tasks. The constant bickering resulted in her having to butt in to correct both of them in their knowledge, and while Sabine's social confidence was much better than years before, she derived no joy from being forced out of her conflict-adverse personality. The push and pull between such matters and the anxiety-inducing demands from Hal-Neesa had left her much more tense than usual. On the upside, she had gained much more practical experience with her portal magic while travelling around so frantically.

Funnily enough for Sabine, lifting heavy stones with magic had something of a grounding effect on her body. Ready at the base of the arch, she nodded affirmatively up to Ahnasha. "Ready." Her high voice was gravely with fatigue, though the construction environment had made raising her voice more than usual a necessity. "Everyone step away from under the archway, please."

Sabine's hands roiled with powerful alteration magic that spun with strange, shifting geometric shapes. She brought her hands forward, breathed in, and with the slow and determined movement of her arms hovered the keystone of the arch out from the soil. Upward it slowly crept towards its destination.



Lunise, ever consistent to keeping up appearances in both modesty and fashion, had arrived prior with Meesei garbed in a sun hat and a fine white summer dress. The dress itself was ornate with tiny pleats and embroideries around the torso interwoven with sparking silver threads. In spite of Meesei's relative devotion to her own wardrobes, even she could appreciate how the dress flattered Lunise's form to a surprisingly effective degree.

Of course, sun bathing on the stone had soon encouraged Lunise to relax as Meesei was. Where she lay, her skirt was hiked over her lifted knee and she had undone the buttons around her sleeves to allow her arms and shoulders to freely take in the sun. The back of her head rested on the brim of her sun hat for comfort as she, too, faced towards the sky with a light smile.

Sensing Meesei's look, Lunise opened one brightly coloured eye halfway to look across at her. "So much time spent in that cavern. Hmm, my skin was going so pale it was getting soggy." Her chest rose as she took in a luxurious breath in through her nose. "But if I burn to a crisp out on this island, you shan't be without blame." Her face drifted to look back at Meesei with both eyes as she spoke. They were both familiar with their tendency to be unable break eye contact.
Sabine was going to wait until their moment was done and then say that she'll have to mention this whole thing to Meesei, but unless Ahnasha doesn't want that, you can probably move us on.
Fendros was already shaking his head and bringing a finger up to Ahnasha's lips by the time she was done. "If you get found out, if the worst happens, it will not matter how much blame I get. Rhazii, you, and I are staying alive and staying together." He rested his hands on her sides. "Now, you don't have to tell me every detail. If it's a matter of keeping us safe or preventing some kind of leverage, I understand. But I do want to know that you are safe. If you're stepping into something...potentially bigger than the both of us like this again, at least let me know enough that I can be there to help you." He took a hesitant breath. "I know I've...not been a perfect husband, but I'm still your husband. We still look out for each other."
Sabine quietly followed behind Fendros with her hand around her other fingers. Several things were said out of her earshot and her curiosity got the better of her. Seeing the number of walking corpses around the corner made her gasp, but Fendros' reaction was much calmer.

At first, Fendros simply scanned his eyes over the formation with a face that was difficult to read. As per Ahnasha's request, he did not make any motion to disturb Hal-Neesa, instead staying beside Ahnasha taking in a slow breath. "And you kept all this a secret," he stated quietly.

A moment passed where Fendros' face subtly twinged with pain, but he swallowed it before turning his head to Ahnasha. "I...said it before, Ahna," he said. "I trust your judgement. You've been working so hard. You keep surpassing yourself day by day. But if I am not worthy of your trust..." He pressed his mouth shut for a moment. He spoke more clearly. "I want to be worthy of your trust. That's all, right now."
Just looking at the thralls, then I'm good.
Fendros was more than happy to leave his tea unfinished and stand up from the table. He did not appear to spare Ahnasha any forgiveness, rather keeping a small, uncomfortable frown as she spoke.

"Thank you, Ahna," he responded.

Sabine cautiously stood up and was about to make motions to generate a portal for them.

"A moment, Sabine," Fendros interrupted, lifting a hand. "Ahna, would you mind if I saw these thralls you made as well?"
@WrongEndoftheRainbow
Fendros could not help but find all of Hal-Neesa's words awfully convenient. The Daedric prince of domination and slavery providing the means to grow more powerful than him was about as plausible as Neesa 'caring' about anyone but herself.

He almost sipped his tea again, but put it down before he could say something rash. "I'm sure that will become clearer to both of us as the situation requires," he settled for saying. "For now, I have an invasion to coordinate, a family to support, and a lycan corpse to explain away. Godhood, or whatever your talking about, can wait."
Fendros' expression did not change much. He quickly reminded himself that there was no reason to trust Hal-Neesa, though it was not difficult to stay wary with how nonspecific she was being.

After a quiet pause, Fendros tried to frame his mistrust more politely. "Most people only know Hircine as a daedra for feral people. Those who behave like animals and abhor any kind of civilisation." Fendros stared at the table. "There are some like that, I could never deny it. But, for us, the truth is more complex. You already know that by now."

He looked over to Neesa again. "Take this question from one who is aware that things can be more nuanced: How does Molag Bal fit into the philosophy of your...court?"
Fendros did have too much disappointment to hide. Even if his was a reasonable request, he knew Hal-Neesa's pride was reliably stubborn.

Looking around, he found a wooden crate up against a wall that he was strong enough to lift and place down by the table. He sat just high enough to need to lean forward uncomfortably when reach the tea cup offered to him. Sabine took the initiative to find herself a small barrel, which placed her uncomfortably low compared to a chair.

At first, Fendros was not sure how to respond, except to at least give the impression that he was listening. "Ahnasha says you're also not as bad as first impressions would indicate," he finally said, though without the confidence to look Hal-Neesa in the eyes. Sipping his tea gave enough of an excuse while he spoke, though when he placed his cup back on the table, he betrayed a little concern.

"It's been a while since I spoke with anyone in your Xanmeer," Fendros continued with a neutral frown. "What exactly comes of those who you foster? If you do not mind me asking."
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