The Journal of Miss Estre Ohtarona

The following entries are undated

These cowards, whispering behind my back and speaking ill of my person. If they feel the need to insult me, gather the courage and say so to my face. I find many to be eager to murmur in secrecy to one another about my character but when I happen to be around, only side-eyed glances are passed along with an uncomfortable smile. The words don't bother me, not as much as they once did, it is the fact that many are too scared to face me and tell me how they truly feel.

Alena has become an inexplicable thorn in my side with the knowledge she gained through spying on me. She tells me that she has my back, but I don't trust her or her motives. She has the power to tighten the noose around the neck and shove me from the gallows. She very well knows it, too.

Sundas, the Third of Sun's Dusk

I rode Thistle to a clearing just outside of Skywatch to a bluff tall enough to watch the ocean. My sweet boy cannot travel the long distances he once did, even riding him to Shattered Grove seems trying on him. I do not know the lifespan of elk, my father purchased him from a Nord as a sort-of steed for my travels once I'd completed my training. In a way, it is the only lingering piece I have of him. A house is fine but it is just that, a house, just a building. I wouldn't call it a home, not yet. A home has a family, not a lone figure keeping such a large estate to themselves. Truly, at times I feel like nothing more than a specter in my own household.

I assume Feraan is still on his journey to Daggerfall, I've yet to receive word of his arrival. I should've gone with him, he followed me back to Skywatch and I just let him go on his own excursion. In a way, I felt it was something he needed to come to terms with on his own. I would've just been a hinderance to him. Not that I don't have my own responsibilities in Shattered Grove, yet the lingering thought remains. It's selfish, but sometimes a splinter of my person hopes he doesn't find anything just so he'd hurry back. I want him to find closure, of course, so I try to silence this thought just as quickly as it appears. Just for once I'd like life to come to a pause so that I may catch my breath.

Lordas, The Ninth of Sun's Dusk

Patient Notes

- Check in with Madame Mayor (barf) about the success or lack there of, of fertility potions. It's a bit early to tell, of course, but I'm curious as to any side-effects. Auri-El forgive me for assisting in the procreation of what unholy spawn should spring from her loins.
- Give Andur the passes for a free clinic check-up for his band of semi-organized, knuckle-dragging mercenaries. Make certain that he has the coin before handing them over.

Miscellaneous

All these happy couples, makes me sick. I loathe seeing Alena and her oily he-beast together. I didn't think it possible for humans to produce so much sebum. He's a medical anomaly. Still, they always look genuinely happy with one another, so loving. Gross. At least have the decency to be out of my line of sight while you make eyes at one another.

Feraan made it very clear that he didn't expect me to wait for him in a sexual nature. In that I'm allowed to sleep with whoever I so please while he's away for Gods knows how long. Not that I want to, for I don't. Of course, the same goes for him. It is usually when I'm trying to go to sleep when these thoughts materialize, thoughts that he's with spending the night with someone other than me. It makes my chest ache. I'm just as good as any Breton woman, if not better. I'm certainly prettier. And it doesn't look like my features were painted on an egg.

He'll come back. Probably. [The single word has been violently scribbled out.] He'll come back for me.

Tirdas, The Twelfth of Sun's Dusk

Work, work, work, why is it that these twits can't go a full twenty-hour hours without hurting themselves in a ludicrous manner? I'm the head of the clinic, I shouldn't be stitching up wounds anymore so much as I should just be telling my underlings to do so while I occasionally look over from my book. Useless.

The little social was nice, odd as it was that it was located at a Covenant sympathizer's establishment. I've enjoyed catching up with Afer, he's always such fun. Formally met an Altmer fellow I often see hanging on the outskirts of conversations in town. I forget his name, he was considerably dull. Nice hair though. Admittedly, I was pleased to see Alena wasn't around or I'm certain I would've back-handed her all the way back to Shattered Grove. The gall of her! We weren't all born into a privileged life. I've worked hard to get where I am today and I intend to stay alive to enjoy where such hard work has led me in life. If it means that I need to sleep with a Thalmor official to keep up appearances, to remain where I am, so be it.

Still no word from Feraan.

I wish I could breathe underwater like Maormer can. It sounds nice to lay down in a kelp forest, to watch schools of fish swim past me, see how shafts of sunlight break past the water's surface. I'm not Maormer enough to breathe underwater and not Altmer enough to have a perfect memory, unblemished skin, and straight hair. These thoughts used to bother me when I was younger but I'm learning to embrace that I don't belong to solely one culture, but am made up of both.

Haven't heard anything from Feraan. I already said that.

Middas, The Thirteenth of Sun's Dusk

I'm pleased he declined. I am. I think we both had different ideas of the notion of fooling around. I didn't want to sleep with him nor would I have, should he have excepted. I suppose it would be rather awkward to explain that I just want to be held. Conversation? No, just keep quiet and let me have this fleeting sense of security while I avoid thinking of Feraan's whereabouts.

Needless to say, I haven't received a letter today.

Just like the day before that.

And the day before that.

Still, I won't lie and say I don't eagerly rush to the mailbox as soon as I get home given I do just that.

I want to trust him. I do trust him. I think. I do. However more often than not, I recall memories of the early days of this affair of the heart. Him embracing the self-given title of a conman, almost prideful in how he's mastered deceiving others. Specifically, in one of the rare moments unto ourselves, he told me not to trust him. I brushed it off, of course. Who wants to think so deeply on such words post-coital? And who says that? He should've said it before we had sex, honestly. Twit.

Yet the longer I don't hear from him, the more I question his words, my own stupidity in paying them no heed. I hate how much of my thought time he takes up, [the following words are written in a shakier script, a few of the words blurred from moisture.] He's just a human.

[The following letter has been pasted into Estre's journal, judging by the crinkled edges it's safe to say it has been handled quite a bit.}

[i]It's been a while, Doctor.

I hope you've settled in more since I was last there. It feels like yesterday to me -- every day has been non-stop here. I haven't had much time to think, let alone count the days. I won't give you all the details here, not yet at least. Just know that I'm safe for the time being, but I've found more than I expected to. I didn't waste any time once I arrived, and for a little while, it seemed like I wasn't going to find anything. I was actually planning on returning to you a few days ago, not having found any new leads. The night before I was leaving, though, I noticed something, or rather, someone. Someone was following me. I didn't know who they were or any real details about them, and trying to take a closer look might have scared them off. I can't have that. Whether or not the individual was dangerous, I need to know why they were following me if I want to have any hope of a new lead. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's someone who has a grudge with me over something I stole in the past. I wouldn't be surprised. Still... if this has something to do with my family, I don't care what kind of threat they might pose. I have to know. I won't be able to sleep until I do.

I've been thinking about you, too. At night, usually. I can't believe I'm saying writing this, but I actually miss holding you when I go to sleep, or waking up to your face buried in my chest. It doesn't feel right to sleep alone anymore. If this wasn't so important to me, I would already be on my way back. I hope you've managed being on your own, as well. Or maybe you haven't been alone. If that's the case, I hope he gave you a damned good night. Or she. I won't judge. In any case, I'm not worried about it. I know you'd rather spend that time with me. Who wouldn't, really? In any case, just know that I haven't forgotten you. I'll be home as soon as I can. Back to our home.

Take care of yourself,

Feraan Rahdrier[/i]

Loredas, The Twenty-Third of Sun's Dusk

That merchant's jest was grossly inappropriate and I wish I hadn't paid for any of his cheap trinkets! Certainly, running away wasn't the mature thing to do. Nor was it the actions a strong woman would've taken in such a situation. But here I am. I've been unusually emotional as of late, it's quite embarrassing that I let such teasing words wound me so. I've been making it terribly easy for others to irritate me to the point I need to flee. That needs to be nipped in the bud. In the very least, I've come to the conclusion that Alena is what one would refer to as a 'fair-weather friend' and is only amicable if a situation benefits her.

I've heard nothing further from Feraan, the letter being the last bit of communication between us. I'm trying not to think that the worst has happened for my own sanity, he said he'd be back soon. Well, as soon as he could. Whatever that means.

I think I'll calm down a bit if he returns.

When he returns.

I hadn't realized what a source of comfort he'd become to me. Ironic, given how we met. I was supposed to be a comfort to him. And I was. At least I can continue on being a damned good healer, the likes of which this town hasn't seen.

Sundas, The First of Evening Star

Feraan has returned home! [There are hearts, shooting stars, and rainbows doodled around the single sentence.]

The fool was just leisurely laying in bed when I walked in, he sought to surprise me. Surprise me he did, I'm thankful I wasn't holding anything in my hands or he'd have quite the bump on his head. He looked different. Not a bad different by any means, it was just odd to see such a change in him. His hair is longer, and his stubble a bit more filled in. I daresay he's a little bit more muscular than the usual lithe man I grew accustomed to. Still, nothing in the world could change that smug, smart ass smile of his.

I remember when my relationship with Adsomar fell apart, I deeply regretted it and wanted nothing more than to take back my words. Though it feels odd to write, I'm thankful we didn't end up wed to one another. I loved him very much at one point, but that time in history is long gone. Feraan just feels right, it doesn't feel like I'm taking care of him like one would a child so much as we support one another in our endeavors, through thick and thin.

Sundas, The Eighth of Evening Star

I have given myself a tisane of feverfew and butterbur root to ease my head pains. With a nip of whiskey from my flask.

Fought with Alena again. I do not wish to elaborate any more than that. I don't think there will be any further communication between us. I am fine with that. Out of frustration, she questioned whether or not anyone in Shattered Grove genuinely enjoyed my company. With Kashya gone, I highly doubt it. It makes me feel strange. Not bad. But strange.

Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I returned her romantic feelings. Would it have taken us down a different path of events, one where she hadn't died? The pricking feelings of guilt touch at my skin, knowing she stood between myself and Cantose and losing her life because of it. A daughter lost her mother, her own mother a daughter. If he had taken my life instead, there would be no daughter, no mother, or family to speak of that might mourn my death. [It looks as if the quill has pressed harder on the page, the words thicker and somewhat shaky.] I am fine with that.

I should really finish that letter to Hloriella. Tomorrow. Though I don't see what difference it would make, the words have been said and fester between us like an open wound. One that is not so easily cleaned with a simple letter of apology.

I wasn't welcome in Morrowind, the Gold Coast, or the isle of my upbringing. I think if I were to sit on a rock in the middle of the ocean, it too would pitch me into the waves. Don't think of this as self-pity, dear diary, only facts.

I'm tired of being myself, I want to be someone new.

Middas, The Fifteenth of Morning Star

I was careless and stupid and it could've cost my life. He's a monster before he's your friend. It is fact. He is entirely capable of tearing me to pieces and wipe any traces of me from existence. He is a monster, he is a monster, he is a monster. Get that through your thick head. I can't believe I let down my guard like that, Alijham knows me too well and it bothers me. I wish he'd understand how selfish he's being every time he tries to get me involved. He's intelligent enough to know otherwise. He saw me take off my silver ring when I approached him. It wasn't to keep him safe, mind you. I was fully prepared to shove that bit of silver into his mouth and let it destroy him from the inside out. A kiss would've been smarter, hiding it under my tongue or something and just leaning in. He wouldn't be able to resist. It would be simpler to make him instinctively swallow mid-kiss. Quite literally a kiss of death.

I don't think he'll succeed on his crazed endeavors, a cure is nothing but a myth. But at least I have a plan should he dare to return.

Adsomar came into the clinic with a fawn and a wounded leg. It was rather awkward, neither of us knew what to say. It is so strange to think that not so long ago we slept in the same bed, woke up together, lived our lives together. And now? Now we hardly have words for one another.

I think I got him flustered with my questions regarding the injury, he started to blush. He's so cute when he blushes. Shut the fuck up, Estre.

I took the fawn home. Adsomar killed its mother before he knew she had a baby. The fawn keeps making these distressed vocal sounds, as if calling for its mother. It's heart-wrenching. Last night I put an old quilt before the hearth and placed her in the middle of it but she immediately got up and wedged herself in a corner of my bedroom. Hopefully she'll grow less timid the longer we're around one another.

Turdas, The Sixteenth of Morning Star

Quite the hangover.

All the supposed cures for a hangover are rubbish, nothing more than old wives tales. I've heard one supposed cure to be eating raw eels first thing the next morning. The logic behind this fails me and on top of that, the only thing worse than a cooked eel is a raw eel. That's not as bad as the next, in one of father's older tomes I distinctly remember reading that to cure "morning fog" after a night of heavy drinking, a woman must wash her breasts in salt and vinegar and then partake of cabbage juice doused with a thimbleful of sugar. For a man, all you have to do is wash your testicles in salt in vinegar. It's hard enough to get most men to bathe and now when a cure calls for one it is to simply dunk one's balls in such a pungent conception? Delightful, I'd rather deal with the headache.

Spoke with Llevis last night, I always enjoy speaking with him. I miss his beard, now I have nothing to pull on when he makes a cheeky comment.

Before I forget, I should record the meaning of these words. Hopefully I'm spelling them right.

DUNMER WORDS

Hlajull: Child, baby, it's a term of endearment?

Example sentence: You are the spores to my mushroom, you complete me, hlajull.

Merdkeh: Beauty, also a term of endearment.

Example sentence: Your sister certainly is no merdkeh but you my dear, most certainly are.

Sundas, The Sixteenth of Sun's Dawn

Partook in my first Heart's Day celebration. Despite my affinity for romance novels, I've never been terribly interested in taking part of this supposed holiday. It's more of a human celebration, after all. However, Tobias was insistent on doing something.

First we went on something of a treasure hunt, he took me to this small, decrepit tomb (only Tobias could find this a romantic setting) and showed me the lovely murals within. However the real reason he brought me to the tomb was to find a box that he beforehand placed in a lit brazier. The box itself was unaffected, but there was the matter of getting it back out. So he did something by channeling his frost magicka that I don't entirely understand, but more or less asked to trust him on it. So I did, as I do, and was able to retrieve the small box. Upon opening it, I found a silver necklace with a pendant that had an elk's face engraved into it, looking to be Nordic in origin. It was a thoughtful gift, truly, he looked terribly excited to see me open the box.

Having a prior knowledge that I was to give something in return, I gave him a well-crafted compass. I'm not one for frivolous gifts and it seemed a bit much to give him jewelry, so I thought the compass could be of some use in his travels.

After that, he took me to a restaurant and we had a lovely dinner.

And after that, he took me home and we had a lovely roll in the sheets.

A perfectly lovely evening, all in all. But I think Tobias likes me more than he lets on.

Loredas, The Twenty-Ninth of Sun's Dawn

The following letter has been pasted in her journal.

Been a long time, Doctor.

I don't need to tell you who's writing. You know who I am. It does feel like an age has passed since we parted ways, though. I'd love to tell you I'm doing well, but I'm not. Honestly, I never expected to be, on a journey like this one. At least I can say I'm not dead yet. I got in touch with some old contacts, called in a few favours. I have a team now... such as it is. I don't know that everyone here would call it that, but at least I have people watching my back, if only for the sake of knowing I'll owe them later. Most of my people don't trade in coin, but in favours. They can be worth far more than any piece of metal.

In any case, I'm not alone. Or... I'm not physically alone. It can certainly feel that way, beyond that. My company doesn't offer much in the way of, well, company. Not unless we're all getting drunk, which isn't very often when we've practically waged war against some cult of gods know what. Speaking of that, more digging into the artifact and the weird folk surrounding it seems to suggest ties to the daedra. I assume they're a sect, maybe formed from the ground up around this thing. As for what it actually does, I still have no idea. All I know is that the cultists seem far more intent on getting it back now that I've returned. Maybe they planned to get it back all along. As usual, I don't know as much as I want to. My biggest question remains completely unanswered, though: what in Oblivion did my father want with this thing? What did he get himself into, to attract this kind of attention? More than anything, I need to know that much. I can't learn what really happened to bring my family to the end they were met with if I can't find the answer to that.

I wish I had more of my wit to put into this letter. Maybe I've lost my touch with all this happening. (There is a slight scribble here, a word scratched out) I can't even write that with a straight face. Of course I've still got it. I'd sooner die that lose my devilish charm.

When I'm not busy with this mystery, I find myself thinking of you. I miss you, believe it or not. Who'd have thought I'd ever be the one saying that to a woman? I miss waking up beside you... and of course going to bed with you. I miss having someone to talk to that actually engages me, not these walking towers of muscle or these cloak-and-dagger rogues. They're not interested in talk, for the most part. Honestly, I don't know why I feel like I have to tell you this. I'm sure you've found someone else by now, to make you almost-but-not-quite as happy as I did. I of course understand that they'll never be the same as me, but I hope you found a close second. Regardless, I do hope you're happy. Maybe I'll get to feel that way again some day, too. I could use a vacation somewhere warm when all this is over.

I could probably send you a book with the things I'd like to say to you by now, but I'll leave it at this. Maybe it's the fact that I've been walking the line between life and death for months now, or maybe I've just had a chance to start seeing what's really important in my life through all of this. But I've come to accept that, even if we never meet again, I want you to know that I love you too. I didn't get to tell you before, and I've regretted hiding from that since. But I think I loved you when you first said it, already. So, be this the last time you see anything from me, or just the first reminder of many in the future, I've said what I want to say to you, should anything happen.

Keep taking care of yourself, Doctor. I know you will.

Tirdas, The Seventh of Rain's Hand

I shan't get into the details, but it appears we are to be moving again.

Kashya, Adrian, Seiverin, and myself went on a bit of a scouting mission to have a look at a bit of land that a friend of Cantose knew. One further away from the reaches of the Dominion bureaucracy. Why we are trusting a friend of Cantose, I haven't a clue. However, I will note that what he did bring us to was unlike that I've ever seen, the architecture, the landscape, it's nearly opposite to that of Auridon. A bit scary, actually. More so because the last folks to live there were killed by a dragon. Dragons! Can you imagine? I hoped he was jesting, but the charred remains that greeted us upon our arrival said otherwise.

The settlement is surprisingly intact given the events that befell those that came before us. Kashya and Adrian went off together to look at a portion of the town whilst Seiverin and myself looked at another. Certainly a pain in the arse at times, I will admit that I did have a degree of fun exchanging banter with him. Bit hard to tell whether or not he truly enjoys my company though. He better, my clinic is in ruins because of him. Well, sort of because of him. We came upon a swimming hole (at least I think it was a swimming hole) and I wanted nothing more than to pry off my shoddy armor and dive right in. It was so crystalline, you could see bits of the ruins that crumbled and fell into the water. I wish I could breathe under water, I'd spend all day at the bottom of that pool. Maybe a mage knows of some spell that could assist with this fantasy.

I should finish packing.

Funny how this journal always seems to turn up when I have something worth writing about.

Turdas, The Second of Sun's Height

Fought Kashya again. Maybe one of these days I'll actually win. What a fancy-free notion. I may not have her brute strength, but I know what to say to hurt her. A sharp tongue is more useful than said strength, in my opinion. Wounds heal but certain words can fester in the mind until one grows nigh feverish going over them time and time again. That being said, while I didn't mean a good portion of what I said to her, it brings me ease to still know I can fuck with her should she cross me.

That being said, I am more concerned that I'm comfortable to admit that Seiverin might possibly out me, so to speak. I'd like to think I'm prepared for that, I've been around these people longer than he is. That being said, I didn't sleep with that Dominion official for a false sense of security. "Whose side are you on?" I recall the mer hesitantly asking as as he watched me undress. I didn't have an answer then and I certainly don't have one now, thankfully simple men such as he are easily distracted by a pair of bare breasts.

I played my part and now I have my forged papers, my false lineage. I am in control of the situation.

I am in control.

Tirdas, The Twenty-Eighth of Sun's Height

What makes a sound bad? It is all very personal. Perhaps a certain bard's song may remind one of a former relationship that went south. I once had a instructor scrape his nails on slate to get the attention of the class, needless to say he was not popular among his pupils. Certainly the high frequency buzz of Grahtwood's mosquito near the ear is enough to make anyone grimace. However for me? In my opinion? There is no worse sound than that of a mother in anguish that cannot help her child.

I will not get into specifics, there is no reason to do so. A young Khajiit was brought in with severe dehydration caused by an outbreak of cholera. I do not know why his mother waited so long to bring her daughter to a healer, she did not speak the common tongue. I could hypothesize all day, some try to pray the illness away. It is an occurrence I have come across before. Why trust a healer when your Gods are much more familiar and dear to you and your kin? But the child was too far gone when she was brought to me, I could not save her. The sounds the mourning mother made, I cannot properly express them in writing. One does not need to share a language to feel the overwhelmingly raw grief of another.

The advice I give to apprentice healers is not so much mechanical, nor a trick to make a certain tincture last longer or the recipe for the best muscle ache soothing salve. I try to install in them the acceptance that they won't be able to save everyone they come across.

And yet, it is a lesson I have yet to learn myself.