A Furless One's Tale

Ri'sari wants to read the rest. :)

The walls stretched forever as Mereneth sat in an awkward posture that the old mother's hands had guided her body to take. There would be no escape by running from whatever fate the children held for her. While Psyginia had, with help from a bosmer servant, cleaned the girl and pulled a satiny dress over her potentially strong form, it was told to Mereneth that the house's children were outside the city on a day of sport hunting. "You will need to make a good impression. No matter how much they might grow accustomed to your existence, you will always be seen as below them if you do not immediately match them. I am sorry, but that is the sad truth of wealth." Mereneth had simply nodded at Psyginia's words. Her mind, at the time, was set on the servant's apprehension, and the stories she heard as a child of small elves who would come in the night and eat you up, stories which had made her squeal with delightful terror, which seemed all too possible in this dreamlike situation. Now, sitting in the foyer of the great house, her mind had only two runners on it's track: adolescent judgement and posture.

By a stroke of luck, the youngest child came through door first. Younger children, no matter how aristocratic, would have some awe of those older than them, even human girls that they would outlive by hundreds of years. A rabbit was in the boy's hand as he walked in, and his delicate face showed content (while hinting at contained pride) at his catch. His eyes widened when his eyes landed on the other child in the room. "Mother! Come and see! There's someone here!" Psyginia had left Mereneth alone so she wouldn't have support. "The children could find you seeming crippled if you require their mother as a crutch," she had said. With another glance at Mereneth, the boy walked as gracefully as his excitement allowed towards the sitting room. She became slightly more at ease at the response. But she also remembered that there were plural children, and probably none younger if they were returning from a hunting trip.

Mereneth could only guess at the age of the next form to walk in. She seemed to have reached the plateau of elven aging; she could be 20 or 50. Her stride was interrupted when her vision caught Mereneth. At first the altmer turned to the girl, seeming polite and civil, a formal greeting about to flow from her wide, thin lips, perhaps. Unfortunately, in almost the same instant, she took in Mereneth's size, face, and above all else, ears. Diplomacy was replaced by command. "What is the meaning of your presence?" there was a bit of caution - maybe Mereneth was a child to an ambassador, from the looks of her now-noble clothes, or a token of trade - but still a superiority. By the Eight, she was the female version of Kalamar! Mereneth chased words, and in her highest-class voice managed to say, "I'm a guest." At this, a venomous smile glared at the human. "Is that so? Who allowed you into our house?" The poisonous sap might trap an insect, but not an Imperial, no matter what their age. "The lady of the house. I think she's in the..." What were all these rooms called again? "The drawing room." The figure raised her light brow, knowing that the answer was acceptable, but from true guests, not from a man.

By then, a young mer had also entered his house. "Hey, Liliana. I think I won our bet! That boar was-" He noticed Mereneth then, and became a gentleman. "Greetings, madam. Who might you be?" Her mind recorded him as an angel. Not his mother's reflection, but respectful. A good figure to continue the stories of the halls. "Mereneth Raniel. Am I interrupting something?" Liliana looked at her seemingly-younger brother with a scolding in her eyes. "I believe you are," she said, not looking away from the other high elf. "Now tell me, where are you actually supposed t-"

The youngest child came in, holding his mother in the hand where the rabbit had been. "See? Who is she? She looks nice..." Liliana's eyes turned to him and he quieted down. "This is our house guest. No, not our servant, Lily, do not even think to ask such a question. Expect to see her on more than one occasion." Mereneth was able to pull of a small smile, taking extra care to not make it a boast at the remarks. Two of the hired servants had gathered nearby, lightly dusting but watching the interesting affair. "Well, I for one welcome you to our home," the older boy said with a polite curtsy. "Will she be staying for dinner, Mother?" Mereneth liked the child more by the minute. Psyginia, relieved at the two-to-one acceptance, replied "If you would like, I see no reason why not." Her look at Liliana conveyed the message to silence her own reasons. "I am excited about your catches of today. What fine hunters you all are!" Motherly love, that would calm the conversation. "You may all go to your rooms. You must be tired." The other children left, one strutting away, one casually departing, and the young boy complained about wanting to see more of the pretty human girl as he walked up the stairs to his quarters. "I believe that went rather well," said Psyginia. The help broke away from the hall to clear the dining room for the guest.

I made this one longer because you guys like that sort of thing. This is also continuing.

Dinner in this house was possibly the most threatening time of Mereneth's life up to this point. There were at least two seated at the table who would not mind if she were to contract premature cardiac arrest and quickly die, as any good human should. The servants also seemed curious of the new guest, from the two Bosmer who moved with the grace of their employers, to the Khajit chef who announced the meal which seemed to calm Kalamar's dangerous discontent. Their glances to her, and in between each other, did not help to settle the child's nerves.

The youngest boy - Mereneth had learned his was Sauril - spoke up, asking "Where did you come from, miss?" "Well, I hail from Cyrodiil. I've been moving down into the Isles for some time now." Liliana was ever so kind. "Father, is not that the land which we have conquered?" Kalamar showed a flickering smile. "Indeed it is, and soon I believe it might be fully under our control." His wife gave him a warning look, which Sauril's genuine interest did not notice. "Have you ever been inside the City?" Now, here was something that she had an advantage over in knowledge. "A few times, when I was younger," Mereneth replied. "It seemed huge at the time. Of course, I couldn't go in when the details would be clearer to me, because of the attacks and the emperor disappearing and all. It must have been even better before everything happened leading to the War."

Kalamar seemed to gain some interest in the following conversation. A few times, he even joined in with questions of the environment. Sauril and the elder son, Gannar, were the mains ones asking about the scenery, what is was like when the soldiers came, anything about the exotic land. At some points, Mereneth was able to receive information about the family. "Father's interested in speculating land out there, when the war ends. Do you think anyone would attempt to purchase land after all it has been through?" Gannar's question made the child think quite a bit. Who would take what was left of Cyrodiil? When might they portion her home out to invaders? "If the cities are kept intact, someone will be willing to find their way in." Yes, please don't roll over every achievement of my race. Liliana chimed in at this point. "I do not see why anyone would want to leave the Summerset Isles. I say, leave that land to farms and make this place a land of mercantile success." Psyginia was still glad, no matter how altruistic the intents of the conversation were, that the child was seen to have a bit of use.

After dinner, the old mer and the child walked to the guest room which would be adapted for Mereneth's use. With thoughts not of fear in her mind, Mereneth asked Psyginia, "Why did you bring me here? Couldn't you have left me on the street? I was able to get through on my own for a lon-." A hand was brought up to the girl's face. "Children, you are all the same. You think you can make it without a guide, with all of your potential scattered through the breeze. You need a form to be effective. I guess I chose you because I was feeling generous, and, how often is one allowed to witness the strength of a determined Imperial?" This brought a smile to the child, the first she could remember for quite some time. "I shall make it so no "high" elf can look down on you. That is a legacy I cannot give to my own offspring."

The words of Mereneth's grandmother came to her mind: "Keep on fighting to the morrow." She realized that, up to now, she was slashing a sword wildly, hoping to hit a target she only hoped she could manage. Respect would always be good to have, and she was fully satisfied with her received answer. "Thank you," Mereneth said, and she felt the halls open up to her.

The amount of skooma will go up with every post, stay tuned. Thanks for all the support!

((I usually try not to comment on story threads to not break the flow, but, wheee! So glad to see this continued on :D ))

(( *grabs chair and popcorn, settles in to read more* :) ))

((You guys can comment away! If it turns into one big chunk it's almost too intimidating to read. Plus, you all are so very nice with these comments.))

Lessons in aesthetics were taught first, from the proper way to move through the halls to speaking easily but not casually. Then, Mereneth found out, the lessons of the arts, cultures, and history would come. "It is unfortunate that quite a few of the wiser members of Tamriel are bound to the rags which adorn their bodies," noted Psyginia. "This will not be the case for you. I shall bind your knowledge in a leather skin, and let a thread of silk lead others to your riches. I can not risk having you be notes floating aimlessly in the breeze." The child found that she was right to put her curriculum in this order; as Mereneth took constant notice of the way she was presenting herself, she also could learn from the information in front of her. For example, the poetic metaphor which the old mer had seemingly woven out of the air took consideration beforehand, showing how she cared for the meaning as much as she did for the words.

These observations translated through her other interactions within the house. Mereneth learned that Liliana's distaste for humanity was more taught than instinctual, unlike her father. It made sense, as Psyginia seemed to have passed down her open mind, and as soon as Kalamar got a hand on one of his offspring, he quickly places his thoughts and sealed them. After a few weeks, the older girl stopped going out of her way to trip Mereneth as she walked, or place rats in her bed, or pull off whatever malicious act her upbringing would allow her to get away with. Gannar did not talk except briefly in the halls, though by the way he averted eye contact created an appearance of respect for Mereneth's position as a student. Sauril took his own approach to showing respect, in that case, by asking all about her race. They even became partners in study when Psyginia saw it fit.

She had been within the house's company for three months before she finally took her own time to go downstairs, where only servants were supposed to work. This was where the kitchen was located, as well as the chef. Peeking her head around the door, she found herself having the same feeling of fear which had taken her mind when she first walked into the house as a street rat. The chef was bent over a table, and a hint of sweetness was in the air. This scent condensed into a visible fume near the various equipment on the table, which Mereneth assumed was for cooking fine cuisine; the items were not staple cooking tools. It was a rather enticing smell, and the child wondered what desserts the Khajit might be making. She dared to move closer to the scene.

The gold-flecked tail of the chef stopped moving. He turned, in too careful of a manner for Mereneth's comfort. As his eyes fell upon the the girl, a growl instantly grew in his throat. The chef was suddenly walking towards her. "What business do you have here, furless one?" His low voice made Mereneth tremble. "You should know never to walk out of your territory." By this point, his muscles became visibly agitated through his fur, ready to pounce, it seemed. "I am sorry, I j-just... I..." Why was she having trouble thinking? The chef broke into a run. "Leave this place!" The roar shook the girl's body, and she ran from the kitchen to the top of the stairs, not looking behind her until she heard the kitchen door calmly close. Mereneth's breath was more irregular than usual, even as she sneaked back into the upper halls to the society in which she had found a place.

I don't realize how much time is in between my updates! I'll attempt to shorten the gaps, especially since the story is starting to pick up its pace.

Nothing would be boring staying with elves in the Summerset Isles, though a routine did seem to be forming. Learn about the history of Tamriel, study and play with Sauril, avoid the exaggeratedly loud conversations Liliana had about the inferior worth of humans, ask Gannar on advice about day-to-day life, stop the visitors to the manor from believing Mereneth was a servant. But she could not shake from her mind the memory of the Khajit chef, and his mysterious brew which she believed - no, she could swear - was one of the smells coming out of Kalamar's and Liliana's dishes at the dinner table. Whatever she had walked into was obviously a secret, and she was not so naive to believe it was a family recipe. Yet she knocked down her suspicions, and attempted to continue on with the only normality she had seen since she had left her family's orchard.

Mereneth's interest in the particular servant was reciprocated. Long after the fears of the Bosmer wishing to eat her subsided, they still worked in the rooms in which she learned, watching her for other reasons. After a formal dinner one day, when the female was helping Mereneth undress, she spoke directly to the child for the first time. "The chef would like to speak with you, miss," she said in a lowered voice. By this time Mereneth had learned that if anyone were to request an audience with her, it was only proper to go through the longest-working servant in the house. Why this mer would risk speaking so bluntly to Mereneth, who was included as a member of the house for the intents of servants?

The stairs clutched her slippers as she traveled down, the light shining as far as it could from her lantern and wishing she would return to the marble walls where it could reflect throughout a room instead of being absorbed into the wood of the servants' quarters. Despite these protests, Mereneth continued on, until she came to the light which emitted from the kitchen. The door smoothly opened, and the chef leaning on a table beckoned her inside, saying "Close the door." Prayers flew through the child's mind, not the simple ones of unfaithful urchins who wished for a path away from trouble, but the thoughts which a believer would be glad to have as their last. Mereneth held her breath as the first words were spoken.

"This one is sorry to have disturbed you before. You may call this one S'amir." Manners, those were familiar. The eyes of the Khajit did not seem to pierce her soul so much after these words relaxed her. "S'amir has called you here to discuss your... education." This put Mereneth off. Did Psyginia request he help her? But then why would the Bosmer be so secretive? Questions toyed with her mind. "What do you mean by my education, sir?" The Khajit stroked his chin. "So far, it seems to this one that you have only been learning the ways of the Altmer, yes?" She thought about it, and found that while her studies covered a wide range of topics, they were taught by Psyginia in the only way she knew, a strict yet poetic telling of history and current events as one. "Y-yes, sir." "Well, this one thinks we should change that. Tell S'amir, have you learned the art of alchemy yet?"

Will finishActually I'll just leave here and start the next post.

This one thinks Mereneth is a very good writer! Looking forward to more! :D

It had been several months since that meeting, where Mereneth first got to test her skills of alchemy. She was very fond of mixing all the herbs and flowers presented to her, her potions becoming more and more potent. S'amir was the first Khajit to be impressed with her in any way, and though the child believed it was from the teachings of the Altmer that she gained the man's respect, it was her ability to learn these things, be an impressive toy for the elves, and still have her own mind that made him fond of her. He could see Mereneth's relief when her words were well-received, and her fright when those outside the family conducted an inquisition on the facets of her life and education. But, she could mix very well, and he had no fears for the human's well-being.

The Bosmer servant, Sidra, beckoned for the child to follow her after dinner. Mereneth eagerly followed her steps; S'amir's side lessons were a favorite time for her, with both alchemy and lessons of Khajit culture. The stairs creaked even under her light steps as she descended into the servants' quarters, turning to the kitchen. The cat had finished cleaning after the meal and prepared her workspace, but instead of having various plants lain out for Mereneth, the table had a different device than her usual alchemical tools, and the place of the herbs was instead occupied by a pile of moon-sugar.

"This one said he would teach you of Khajit ways, did he not? There is an aspect which I have kept from you until now. A delicacy much loved in out culture. S'amir feels it could help when you finally leave this place." Mereneth simply nodded and stepped forward. The Khajit showed her how the instrument worked, how much sugar to place, how the liquid sugar was purified and aerated. As she worked, the sweet scent began to strike Mereneth's memory. Her hand began to waver as she measured out the moon-sugar and let the air ventilate, to the point that they were trembling as she opened various valves. S'amir looked on with growing concern. "Kit, are you okay?" A garbled "s'okay" came from the child's mouth. "Jus gotta... keep workin'..." The Khajit moved to her and pulled her away from the station. "This one admires your perseverance, but how about we not get the shakes." The only response was a "Mhm" as S'amir extinguished the instrument's flame.

Her room was very bright when she woke the next morning. Mereneth wondered what she had done wrong to make the sugar have such an effect on her, without even touching the brew. When Sidra walked in to help her get ready, the child thought she saw some sympathy and annoyance in her face, yet neither of them said anything. Gannar greeted her warmly when she walked downstairs. "You seem to have slept in a bit. Do not worry, Sauril saved some of his breakfast for you." Mereneth gave him a polite smile, which lacked the familiarity she had with the young elf. She found Psyginia in the garden, and they picked up from her own lesson, with the Imperial girl acting as if nothing had happened.