DAEDRIC FUN TIP:
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Chapter 15
Sometime later, she opened them. She finally understood what the Hist were trying to explain. It was a mushroom. She didn’t know it’s name - plants were definitely not something she had ever paid much attention to, let alone mushrooms - but now it was the most important thing she could think of. She would need wheat too, but flour would do and there would be plenty of that in the kitchen. She ran from the room without saying anything to the sisters, who were still underwater anyway.
She ran out of the palace without a thought to the guards who watched her run past in her frankly scandalous bodysuit, or the stares of the strangers as she left the palace grounds. She almost didn’t recognize Dar when he shouted at her as she left the palace grounds. There would be no mushrooms there.
“Raj!!!” he screamed.
“Dar! I… Please, I need your help. I need to find something. It’s a mushroom. A very specific mushroom... “
Dar’Amon shifted gears quickly, fortunately. Ra’Jirra had to endure only a few seconds of impassioned kissing before he recovered his wits.
“Describe it,” he said once he’d verified she was alright.
She did so, as best she could.
“Sounds like blisterwort. Not really my field, but I did have a little training in alchemy. It usually can be found at the southern dark side of old rotted wooden buildings around here.”
Within a few minutes, they found some, and Ra’Jirra was happy to realize it was just what she had pictured. However, Dar’Amon wasn’t allowed back into the palace. In fact, she was lucky to have been recognized herself without her Raba, but the guard confessed he had seen her rush out, and the sight of her in her current state was not something easily forgotten.
She looked down at herself for a moment - clad only in the skintight bodysuit and still wet from the Royal Bath, she must have looked a sight. But she still had no time. The Histess may be dying and she could help. She ran back into the palace and to the large kitchen, where she muscled some cooks and helpers aside and found a mortar and pestle. She ground the blisterwort into a pulp and grabbed some flour as well and mixed it in, along with a good bit of water to make a thin syrup. The syrup was turning red as she watched, but she had no time.
She rushed back to the Mane’s bath, hearing voices from the front of the palace, but she didn’t stop to look. Instead, she found the three argonians still submerged. One of the sisters rose as she entered the bath and she hastily explained what she held. In a moment, they had pulled the Histess out of the water and opened her mouth unceremoniously before pouring the red syrup down her throat.
“What’ on earth is going on in here?” she heard from behind her, as she turned to see the Mane, Deviline and two guards enter.
“Ra’Jirra?!” the Mane said, finally recognizing her.
She strode from the bath, apologizing as rapidly as she could, when finally her bodysuit gave out. The snap from between her legs was unmistakable and the bodysuit’s tight grip across her body was suddenly loosened. Her fur stood on-end in embarrassment as she realized she was standing half naked in front of the two most powerful Khajiits on Nirn. Ceremonial nudity in a Raba was one thing, but this was quite another in the Khajiit system of propriety. In mid-sentence, trying to cover herself with the mortar and failing miserably, her composure shattered and she sank to the floor in tears, hiding her face in shame.
Devline grabbed a throw from a nearby couch and draped it over her her, lifting her easily and carrying her to the couch where he sat with her, assuring her. The Mane sat on the other side.
“Don’t be silly, Ra’Jirra,” he was saying. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
“He’s right, Raj,” Devline assured her, and she looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears still. “We’re just happy to see you’re alive! As for seeing the rest of you too… well, it’s no big deal.”
“Well,” the Mane responded with a grin, “maybe not for you…”
A sound came from the bath as three reptilian heads rose from the water. The two sisters helped their stricken sibling to her feet. Suddenly all thoughts of embarrassment were banished as Ra’Jirra left the couch and back into the pool to hug the Histess.
“Ra’Jirra, give her some room to breath!” one of the sisters said, but with an accompanying laugh.
“Oh, no. You stay right here with me, Ra’Jirra. The Khajiitmother lives, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to turn away that embrace!” said Quill-Weave.
“Glad to see you getting better,” the Mane said, rising from the couch. “But if Isdra catches me in here with all this female flesh, she’s going to get jealous. Excuse me please, I’ve got to go take a cold shower.”
He left with the guards, but Ra’Jirra had to chuckle at the obvious evidence that he wasn’t overstating his reaction, as she helped Quill-Weave out of the bath.
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Ra’Jirra sent word to Dar’Amon not to wait for her that night, but that she would meet him for the wedding the next day at high noon in the chapel. She stayed instead in a bedroom with the Histess and her sisters all afternoon and evening as the Argonian recovered. Shortly after the sun had set, the Mane and Isdra entered.
“You’re looking better,” the Mane said, taking a seat beside the bed with the Prime Concubine beside him.
Ra’Jirra sat on the bed beside her Argonian friend while her sisters lay beside the Histess.
“I’m still a little woozy,” Quill-Weave admitted, “but nothing that Ra’Jirra’s potion won’t cure in time. I suppose we will leave in the morning, if we can impose a bit longer.”
“Stay as long as you like,” Isdra said, and Ra’Jirra thought it was quite sincere. “You are always welcome in the Palace, Histess. But we’ve come to talk to both you and Ra’Jirra.”
“Oh? About what?”
The Mane took over the conversation, rising and beginning to pace the floor.
“We’ve been thinking about you, Ra’Jirra. You and your unique ability with the Hist that is. Though it’s unprecedented, you clearly cannot remain as a royal concubine. I’m afraid I must remove that royal title from you, through no fault of your own. But I think in the end you will understand that it simply isn’t an appropriate place for you.”
Ra’Jirra was not heartbroken as the Mane seemed to think she should be, but it would be rude to show just how not-heartbroken she was, so she kept quiet and just nodded.
“However, it’s more than that. Devline pointed out that the Dominion will soon find out you are still alive, if they haven’t already. They will know that this alliance of theirs is doomed so long as you are alive - and with you the promise of a future with the Argonians and the Hist - truly a future Elsewhere.”
“That’s probably so,” Quill-Weave agreed, placing a hand on Ra’Jirra’s shoulder.
Isdra picked up from the Mane, “To be blunt, Ra’Jirra, you’re going to be at the top of the Dominion’s hit list for some time to come. Even here at the heart of Elsweyr, we’re not sure we can protect you - especially not as long as you’re as high-profile as you have been.”
“So, what do you propose?” Ra’Jirra asked, turning back to the Mane.
“The logical solution, it seems to us,” Isdra started before the Mane finished for her.
“Ambassador to Argonia, Raj. Even if it won’t be for thousands of years, it sounds like we and the Argonians are going to be taking a long trip together someday. I think it’s time we begin to bond with our reptilian neighbors a little better.”
“Ambassador? What do you have in mind?”
“Honestly, I’d like to see more tourism between our two countries,” the Mane replied. “I’d like us to get to know the Argonians better, and the same for them. We’re always going to be very different, but I think we should begin allying ourselves with them. Together the tailed races of Tamriel can be a pretty powerful force.”
“Yes!,” Quill-Weave agreed cheerfully from her bed. “You are a wise Khajiit, Mane. While I am only a speaker for the Hist, I will talk to those on our high councils to see if perhaps we might do the same. It may be that the little embassy you built here in Torval might become occupied on a more permanent basis.”
“And who would be my contact back here?” Ra’Jirra asked, warming to the idea.
The Mane opened the door and Em stepped into the room.
“Welcome back, Ra’Jirra,” he said, and she jumped off the bed and hugged her ex-boss.
“Em! Am I to go back to the HMSS?!”
He pulled her away gently. “Not exactly, Raj. You are the Khajiitmother, after all, from what I hear. You will report to me. However, I won’t be your superior - you will be the Ambassador to Argonia. Though the rank is new, it is a higher rank than my own, I’ll just be your contact back here in Elsweyr. The Mane will be your direct superior.”
“Well, all this is awfully big news, but I certainly accept! Dar’s gonna be shocked, but I think he’ll be happy. Em, can he be assigned to Argonia with me?”
“Of course. I’ve already made the arrangements. After your honeymoon of course.”
“Oh! I’d forgotten about that.”
“I spoke with Dar about it already, Raj. You’ll be travelling incognito. You shouldn’t have any problem from the Dominion. And when you return, you’ll be off to Argonia.”
Sometime later, she opened them. She finally understood what the Hist were trying to explain. It was a mushroom. She didn’t know it’s name - plants were definitely not something she had ever paid much attention to, let alone mushrooms - but now it was the most important thing she could think of. She would need wheat too, but flour would do and there would be plenty of that in the kitchen. She ran from the room without saying anything to the sisters, who were still underwater anyway.
She ran out of the palace without a thought to the guards who watched her run past in her frankly scandalous bodysuit, or the stares of the strangers as she left the palace grounds. She almost didn’t recognize Dar when he shouted at her as she left the palace grounds. There would be no mushrooms there.
“Raj!!!” he screamed.
“Dar! I… Please, I need your help. I need to find something. It’s a mushroom. A very specific mushroom... “
Dar’Amon shifted gears quickly, fortunately. Ra’Jirra had to endure only a few seconds of impassioned kissing before he recovered his wits.
“Describe it,” he said once he’d verified she was alright.
She did so, as best she could.
“Sounds like blisterwort. Not really my field, but I did have a little training in alchemy. It usually can be found at the southern dark side of old rotted wooden buildings around here.”
Within a few minutes, they found some, and Ra’Jirra was happy to realize it was just what she had pictured. However, Dar’Amon wasn’t allowed back into the palace. In fact, she was lucky to have been recognized herself without her Raba, but the guard confessed he had seen her rush out, and the sight of her in her current state was not something easily forgotten.
She looked down at herself for a moment - clad only in the skintight bodysuit and still wet from the Royal Bath, she must have looked a sight. But she still had no time. The Histess may be dying and she could help. She ran back into the palace and to the large kitchen, where she muscled some cooks and helpers aside and found a mortar and pestle. She ground the blisterwort into a pulp and grabbed some flour as well and mixed it in, along with a good bit of water to make a thin syrup. The syrup was turning red as she watched, but she had no time.
She rushed back to the Mane’s bath, hearing voices from the front of the palace, but she didn’t stop to look. Instead, she found the three argonians still submerged. One of the sisters rose as she entered the bath and she hastily explained what she held. In a moment, they had pulled the Histess out of the water and opened her mouth unceremoniously before pouring the red syrup down her throat.
“What’ on earth is going on in here?” she heard from behind her, as she turned to see the Mane, Deviline and two guards enter.
“Ra’Jirra?!” the Mane said, finally recognizing her.
She strode from the bath, apologizing as rapidly as she could, when finally her bodysuit gave out. The snap from between her legs was unmistakable and the bodysuit’s tight grip across her body was suddenly loosened. Her fur stood on-end in embarrassment as she realized she was standing half naked in front of the two most powerful Khajiits on Nirn. Ceremonial nudity in a Raba was one thing, but this was quite another in the Khajiit system of propriety. In mid-sentence, trying to cover herself with the mortar and failing miserably, her composure shattered and she sank to the floor in tears, hiding her face in shame.
Devline grabbed a throw from a nearby couch and draped it over her her, lifting her easily and carrying her to the couch where he sat with her, assuring her. The Mane sat on the other side.
“Don’t be silly, Ra’Jirra,” he was saying. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
“He’s right, Raj,” Devline assured her, and she looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears still. “We’re just happy to see you’re alive! As for seeing the rest of you too… well, it’s no big deal.”
“Well,” the Mane responded with a grin, “maybe not for you…”
A sound came from the bath as three reptilian heads rose from the water. The two sisters helped their stricken sibling to her feet. Suddenly all thoughts of embarrassment were banished as Ra’Jirra left the couch and back into the pool to hug the Histess.
“Ra’Jirra, give her some room to breath!” one of the sisters said, but with an accompanying laugh.
“Oh, no. You stay right here with me, Ra’Jirra. The Khajiitmother lives, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to turn away that embrace!” said Quill-Weave.
“Glad to see you getting better,” the Mane said, rising from the couch. “But if Isdra catches me in here with all this female flesh, she’s going to get jealous. Excuse me please, I’ve got to go take a cold shower.”
He left with the guards, but Ra’Jirra had to chuckle at the obvious evidence that he wasn’t overstating his reaction, as she helped Quill-Weave out of the bath.
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Ra’Jirra sent word to Dar’Amon not to wait for her that night, but that she would meet him for the wedding the next day at high noon in the chapel. She stayed instead in a bedroom with the Histess and her sisters all afternoon and evening as the Argonian recovered. Shortly after the sun had set, the Mane and Isdra entered.
“You’re looking better,” the Mane said, taking a seat beside the bed with the Prime Concubine beside him.
Ra’Jirra sat on the bed beside her Argonian friend while her sisters lay beside the Histess.
“I’m still a little woozy,” Quill-Weave admitted, “but nothing that Ra’Jirra’s potion won’t cure in time. I suppose we will leave in the morning, if we can impose a bit longer.”
“Stay as long as you like,” Isdra said, and Ra’Jirra thought it was quite sincere. “You are always welcome in the Palace, Histess. But we’ve come to talk to both you and Ra’Jirra.”
“Oh? About what?”
The Mane took over the conversation, rising and beginning to pace the floor.
“We’ve been thinking about you, Ra’Jirra. You and your unique ability with the Hist that is. Though it’s unprecedented, you clearly cannot remain as a royal concubine. I’m afraid I must remove that royal title from you, through no fault of your own. But I think in the end you will understand that it simply isn’t an appropriate place for you.”
Ra’Jirra was not heartbroken as the Mane seemed to think she should be, but it would be rude to show just how not-heartbroken she was, so she kept quiet and just nodded.
“However, it’s more than that. Devline pointed out that the Dominion will soon find out you are still alive, if they haven’t already. They will know that this alliance of theirs is doomed so long as you are alive - and with you the promise of a future with the Argonians and the Hist - truly a future Elsewhere.”
“That’s probably so,” Quill-Weave agreed, placing a hand on Ra’Jirra’s shoulder.
Isdra picked up from the Mane, “To be blunt, Ra’Jirra, you’re going to be at the top of the Dominion’s hit list for some time to come. Even here at the heart of Elsweyr, we’re not sure we can protect you - especially not as long as you’re as high-profile as you have been.”
“So, what do you propose?” Ra’Jirra asked, turning back to the Mane.
“The logical solution, it seems to us,” Isdra started before the Mane finished for her.
“Ambassador to Argonia, Raj. Even if it won’t be for thousands of years, it sounds like we and the Argonians are going to be taking a long trip together someday. I think it’s time we begin to bond with our reptilian neighbors a little better.”
“Ambassador? What do you have in mind?”
“Honestly, I’d like to see more tourism between our two countries,” the Mane replied. “I’d like us to get to know the Argonians better, and the same for them. We’re always going to be very different, but I think we should begin allying ourselves with them. Together the tailed races of Tamriel can be a pretty powerful force.”
“Yes!,” Quill-Weave agreed cheerfully from her bed. “You are a wise Khajiit, Mane. While I am only a speaker for the Hist, I will talk to those on our high councils to see if perhaps we might do the same. It may be that the little embassy you built here in Torval might become occupied on a more permanent basis.”
“And who would be my contact back here?” Ra’Jirra asked, warming to the idea.
The Mane opened the door and Em stepped into the room.
“Welcome back, Ra’Jirra,” he said, and she jumped off the bed and hugged her ex-boss.
“Em! Am I to go back to the HMSS?!”
He pulled her away gently. “Not exactly, Raj. You are the Khajiitmother, after all, from what I hear. You will report to me. However, I won’t be your superior - you will be the Ambassador to Argonia. Though the rank is new, it is a higher rank than my own, I’ll just be your contact back here in Elsweyr. The Mane will be your direct superior.”
“Well, all this is awfully big news, but I certainly accept! Dar’s gonna be shocked, but I think he’ll be happy. Em, can he be assigned to Argonia with me?”
“Of course. I’ve already made the arrangements. After your honeymoon of course.”
“Oh! I’d forgotten about that.”
“I spoke with Dar about it already, Raj. You’ll be travelling incognito. You shouldn’t have any problem from the Dominion. And when you return, you’ll be off to Argonia.”
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