I have. That is, I’ve abandoned this site. After the Tumblr implosion, this seemed like the best alternative. I was wrong – because nobody visits here. I’m keeping the site up as an archive of posts. Still have my Tumblr, though don’t post to it often. For fiction, I’m now posting to Archiveofourown. For images, usually Furaffinity. But don’t expect this to be updated again. It won’t.

When Em and Ra’Jirra left the palace, night was coming on. She had changed out of the Raba back into her normal clothes by then, but carried the priceless garment in a bag over her shoulder.

She saw Dar’Amon on the wall surrounding the palace grounds and she bid Em goodnight.

“What are you going to tell Dar?” Em asked her, watching the Alfiq who was looking the other way.

“I don’t know yet. Everything. Gently.”

“Well, good luck Raj,” he said and kissed her forehead before leaving her.

“Dar!” she said, putting on a happy face.

“MEOW!” Dar’Amon said, turning around with as much happiness on his face as an Alfiq could muster.

She picked him up and put him on her shoulder.  “Come on, let’s get back to the apartment. I have lots to tell you.”

The Alfiq rubbed his cheek against hers and she suddenly felt bad again.

The door to the apartment had barely closed when Dar’Amon let out his pent-up questions.

“What happened? Did you wear the underwear? Was the Mane okay with it? Tell me! Tell me!”

“Yes, I wore the underwear. It caused quite a stir of course, but the Mane didn’t complain, so that pretty much shut everyone down.”

“Great! So, what was he like?”

“Oh, pretty much what you’ve seen. Cathay-Raht in every respect. But Dar, he’s not the real Mane!”

She continued to bring him up to date on the meeting, but not quite everything yet.

“So, sounds like the meeting is a go then?” said the cat.

“Sounds like it,” she said, not disguising her objection of it.

“What’s that you brought with you?” he said, nosing the bag that held the Raba.

“Oh, that’s my Raba, custom fit for me!”

“They let you keep it?!”

“Um… yeah.. About that…”

“Let me see it on you!”

“Oh Dar, that’ll just get you worked up.  Maybe we should wait for the moons to align?”

“Aww. No. I’ll be fine. I just want to see what you looked like in there!”

“Well… okay,” Ra’Jirra said, relenting. She took the Raba into the other room and changed into it, leaving off the underwear. She knew he’d like that. Then she stepped out, her hand high on the doorframe and leaning seductively.

“Hi Kitty,” she said, practically purring herself.

“Oh… my!” the cat said, gathering the vision in.

She smiled at that, thinking how odd it was that, even though Dar’Amon had seen her so often now in the nude, add a sheer princess’ outfit that obscures just a bit, and it was as if he’d just seen her for the first time.

She crossed to the bed and put out the candle. The moonlight that filtered through the nearby window still provided plenty of illumination inside. She opened the window to let the cooling breeze in and saw him watching her every move. She did not relish the conversation that would soon come, but she knew now was the time for it.

“Dar,” she said when she lay back down.

The Alfiq climbed atop her stomach and lay down there, purring happily and watching her face.

“Dar, they want me to be at the meeting. They know I hate the Dominion, and want my advice.”

“The Mane is a smart man. He’s wise to take your counsel.”

“He is. But there’s a problem. Traditionally there can only be three present at meetings of this solemnity, and only the closest advisers are allowed to be the other two.”

“I don’t see the problem. You can be one of his closest advisers.”

“But it has to be official advisers. Dar… He’s asked me to become one of his concubines.”

Dar cocked his head to one side, not comprehending.

“It’s a lifetime commitment, Dar.”

Suddenly she saw the spark die in his eyes. He understood.

“What did you say?” he asked, his voice quivering a little.

“Dar, it’s a request from the Mane. You already know what I said.”

The cat rose and stepped off her.

“Well, I guess I can take the ring back…” he said, not looking at her.

“Dar…”

The cat leaped from the bed to the window sill.

“Dar, come back,” she pleaded.

He turned back to look at her and their eyes locked for a few seconds. Even in the Alfiq body, she could read those eyes. He wasn’t coming back.

“I’ll see you later, Raj. I need some time to think.”

She nodded and he was gone. She stepped to the window and leaned out, not caring who else might see her in the Raba. She saw his tail round the corner at the end of the hallway and he disappeared into the night.

She left the window open all night long, but he did not return that night, and she fell asleep to fitful dreams of Dar’Amon, the Mane, and prince Devline.

————–

In the days that followed, she didn’t see Dar’Amon again, but she had been busy with meetings at the palace, both with the Mane and with other officials. The meeting with Number One of the Dominion was scheduled for the following month at the palace, and an emissary was dispatched to deliver the requirements to the Dominion. She turned down the offer to be that emissary – she wanted as little to do with them as possible.

Instead, she learned a lot about the harem of the Mane. She wished she could tell Dar’Amon that it wasn’t as bad as they’d both thought at first. The real Mane was actually monogamous with Isdra and did not actually mate with his concubines. As for Devline, who in theory might have had a right as the heir, it turned out that actually his interests lay in the other gender – a fact kept very close to the inner circle of the Mane and one that had caused some consternation about his future prospects to take over the title. The real Mane had overruled those arguments however.

So the concubines were actually free to take any lovers they saw fit, so long as it was kept discreet. While a marriage between Ra’Jirra and Dar’Amon would need to be kept quiet, neither the Mane nor anyone else would protest.

But Dar’Amon didn’t return and Ra’Jirra asked Em about it a few days later. In fact, Dar’Amon had been sent on an assignment – at his request – and was not expected to return for weeks. Em noted that the Alfiq’s partner was another female khajiit that Ra’Jirra knew, when she asked him. Ra’Jirra knew her as a decent agent, and she seemed to be a good woman, but Ra’Jirra wasn’t in self-denial that she wasn’t bothered by it.  

And, of course, Dar’Amon would be returning to his Cathay form while he was away. That little detail didn’t escape her notice either. She lay awake at night often after learning that, wishing she could talk to him desperately. Finally she asked Em if she might be able to send Dar a note by way of the HMSS, which Em duly accepted, though he couldn’t say how long it would take to reach him.

She had to content herself with that, but every day when she returned to the apartment, it hit her like a sledgehammer that she was alone there. Eventually, she decided to move into her own room in the palace, like most of the other concubines. At least it kept her from being alone most of the time.

She did find it amusing, though, that most of the concubines now had taken to wearing underwear of their own under their Rabas. At least she’d had that small effect on the Royal culture, and she was more than a little proud of it.

Then, one night after she’d retired to her room, a knock came at the door. She rose to answer it and saw the large form of Devline standing outside. While he wasn’t officially the Mane, as his heir she was technically his concubine as well.

“Can I come in?” he asked

“Devline? I… is this an ‘official’ call?” she asked, suddenly horrified that she might have to actually perform the traditional duty of concubines – with this huge Cathay-Raht no less!

“Oh! No! No no no… I just need to talk to somebody. I think we share a problem, you and I, and I can’t really talk about it to anybody else. I think you will understand better.”

“Well, I couldn’t well refuse you even if it were official! But sure, come on in. I hope you don’t take offense if I admit I was scared!”

She shut the door behind him as he sat on the bed of her private room.

“I understand you were in love before… this,” he said, spreading his arms wide and indicating the palace and all it entailed.

Her mood swung from a bit of fear to sadness as she remembered Dar again. She had managed to put him out of her mind occasionally, but he was like a ghost, ready to leap back in at a word or a memory.

“I was,” she said, choking up a bit and sitting beside Devline. “I still am.”

He put his arm around her, and she felt like a child’s toy, though he was gentle as could be.

“Me too,” he admitted. “I guess you know… about me by now.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“It’s just as hard for me, Ra’Jirra. I get to see him maybe once a week at best. How do you manage it?”

She looked up at the face she’d long thought of as the Mane. It was familiar, though instead of looking like the proud face of a country, he looked smaller now. More fragile. More real.

“I don’t have any choice. He’s gone. I suspect he’s found another lover since I accepted this position.”

“Oh? Oh, I’m sorry Raj. Em didn’t tell me much. Though I think I may be losing my lover too. He’s getting tired of all the sneaking around and no future, you see?”

Ra’Jirra nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

“It’s a hard life here. Harder than I ever thought it would be. For you too I guess.”

“Better than being alone,” she pointed out, and Devline nodded.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” he said quietly, looking wistfully towards the window.

“Devline… if you want… you can stay here with me.”

“Ra’Jirra… I’m not…”

“No. Just for companionship. Honest. I’m afraid my own interest is quite a bit smaller than you. But I would appreciate it.”

The big head turned back to her.

“Just one condition – you’ve got to wear some underwear! That thing scares me to death!” she laughed.

Her laughter was infectious, and he chuckled, standing up.

“Ra’Jirra, I think I’d like that. Hang on, I’ll go find something and be right back.”

And she did feel better having someone beside her that night. For the first time in a long time, she slept soundly to the deep breathing of the Mane’s figurehead beside her.

She never saw the cat’s face at the window when it peered in at her hours later.

It took hours before Ra’Jirra and Em were called to the private audience with the Mane.  During that time, Em had introduced her to so many dignitaries and Royal personages that her mind had gone numb with the names and titles. Of course the main topic of conversation that she had to endure was her underwear, but she’d expected that. Some did not approve of course, but since the Mane had obviously approved they were in the minority – at least publicly in this setting.

“So, what do you think, Em?” she asked her former boss when they managed to get some time to themselves.

“Well, I suppose since I am no longer your superior, I’d have to ask if you knew the potential consequences of that. You took an awful risk, Ra’Jirra, just to make a point. I know you didn’t do it for modesty’s sake. You’ve never had a problem with that before!”

“I knew the risk, Em. I just… well, to be honest I was scared. Intimidated at least. And when I get scared, I hit back, you know?”

“That’s what I thought. Classic Ra’Jirra,” he said, taking a sip from his drink. “We’re going to miss you, Raj.”

“Miss me? Hell, I was never at HQ for more than a few days.”

And then a Cathay in a formal outfit approached them and informed them that the Mane was ready to receive them.

“No protocol to worry about anymore, right?” Ra’Jirra asked Em, and he took her hand in his as they followed the man to the Mane’s private suite.

“No. From here on we’re all equals. Maintain respect, of course, but no protocols to worry about.”

The room they were escorted into was not large, and was draped in soft red velvet. The floor was carpeted, and fixtures in a dark wood were abundant. It was a room designed for comfort – or at least the male vision of what comfort was. A faint smell of tobacco seemed embedded into the room’s wood. She liked it. Somehow she felt like she was being allowed into an all-boy’s club.

Within, the Mane sat with the older Khajiit to his right and a concubine on his left. Once their escort had left, these were the only people in the room.

“Ah, Em! Glad to see you again!” the older khajiit said, rising from his seat, as did the Mane and the concubine, who added, “And Agent Ra’Jirra! What a bold one you are!”

Ra’Jirra looked down at herself then back to the concubine, who was dressed similarly but without the scandalous underwear. “Thank you…”

“Oh, my name is Isdra. I’m the Mane’s top concubine and confidant. He likes to have me in for important meetings.”

“Well thank you, Isdra.”

Suddenly the deep baritone voice of the Mane joined in, “Ra’Jirra, I presume?”

She turned to look up at him. To say he towered over her wouldn’t be correct, their size difference wasn’t that great now that the intimidation factor of the Throne Room and all of it’s inherent impressiveness was gone. But he was even taller than Em and was still somewhat intimidating – not least of which because his genitalia was closer to her than his head. It took a force of will to keep from glancing at it.

“I am, your Grace. But… what am I to call you? I can’t just call you ‘Mr. Mane’ can I?”

“No, no no.  Here, just call me Devline. And it’s time we let you in on a little secret, Ra’Jirra…”

“Oh?”

The big head leaned down, his breath tickling her ear, and whispered in a voice that would carry across the Great Hall.

“I’m not really the Mane.”

Here eyes grew wide and she looked up at him as he straightened up.

“You’re not?”

“Nope. That’s the Mane over there,” he said, shaking his head and indicating the graying khajiit engaged in talking with Em.

“Really?” Ra’Jirra said, looking for confirmation from Isdra, who nodded back.

“Yup, that’s the Mane. I’m more of a figurehead really. But they think someday I may become the real Mane, after he retires. So I attend all the important meetings like this, so I can learn his ways. And sometimes we don’t tell them.”

Ra’Jirra’s world was shaken. She looked back at the khajiit that was talking to Em. He wasn’t even a Cathay! He was a Suthay-Raht. The leader of the khajiit nation of Elsweyr was a Suthay-Raht?!

But Isdra was continuing, “Yes, Ra’Jirra. It’s a subterfuge that’s been going on for centuries though. The Mane must always be represented as a strong, virile Cathay-Raht male, but behind the scenes, the real Mane can be any khajiit. I’ll show you a gallery of past Manes later if you’d like. They’re not even all male!”

“I…” she began, trying to understand the revelation she was hearing and unable to form the words to respond.

A hand touched her back lightly, and she turned to look at the Mane. The real Mane.

“Hello, Ra’Jirra,” came the gruff voice. “It is nice to meet you in person finally. I’ve been following your exploits for years, you know.”

“I…,” she stammered, “I… your Grace?”

“Oh,” he said with a chuckle. “That right. You wouldn’t know yet. We don’t reveal that little secret unless warranted. But just call me Mr. McTavish. It’s a little joke, but it’s been going on so long I rather like the name now.”

“McTavish?” she repeated, looking up to Em, who nodded back.

“Well, we’ve not got all day and there’s much to discuss, Ra’Jirra. Come, sit beside me here. About this Dominion meeting. Tell me all about it.”

“Surely you’re not thinking of actually meeting with him?” she said, recalling why she was here.

“Oh, we’re definitely considering it,” said Isdra, and Ra’Jirra was immediately aware that this woman was far more than a dalliance for the Mane. She was his closest adviser.

“But, they’re the Dominion!” she spat back, despite herself.

“Yes, and they hold the ear of nearly all the Mer in Tamriel,” the Mane pointed out. “I’ve read the official report from you, Ra’Jirra. But I want you to tell me in your own words. Start with the Argonia incident, please. It’s important to me that I hear it from you directly.”

And so Ra’Jirra brought the Mane up to date on her dealings with the Dominion. Though he interrupted to ask some questions, as did Isdra and Em for that matter, for the most part the meeting was her telling them what had happened.

“…and that’s it. They let me go and I returned to the ship,” she concluded.

The Mane stood and began to pace, deep in thought.

“They will have an angle,” Isdra said to him. “Somehow this will have to improve the lot of the Altmer and the Dominion.”

“Undoubtedly,” he said. “But that doesn’t make them wrong.”

He stopped in front of Ra’Jirra and looked at her directly. “Does it?”

She look him in the eye. “No, it doesn’t.”

He nodded and resumed his pacing. “What about this ‘Histess’? What do we know about that?”

“There have long been rumors of a leader of the Argonians, but their insistence that they have no ruler but the Hist trees themselves would argue against it.”

“Yet the Dominion not only tells us she exists, but also that she will attend this meeting as well. Could it be a ruse? What would the Dominion have to gain?”

“I can’t see it,” Em replied.

“Nor can I,” the Mane agreed.  “No, I think she is real. She may not be the leader of the Argonians in our sense of the term, but it sounds like she may be able to sway the Argonians anyway.”

“Perhaps she speaks with the Hist directly?” Devline’s deep voice interjected, and Ra’Jirra was glad to understand that his presence wasn’t simply as a figurehead. He was more than just a pretty body.

“That would make sense,” Em agreed. “Perhaps she doesn’t make decisions, but she may be an emissary to the Hist.”

Ra’Jirra was getting angry as it became clear that this meeting was going to take place. Finally she could stand it no longer.

“Dammit, all of you! This is the DOMINION! They want this meeting to happen! Why are you even considering it?!”

“Ra’Jirra,” the Mane said, putting a hand on her shoulder and lowering her back into her chair. “The Dominion are ruthless and always seeking a path that improves their lot. But this future they showed you… It’s not a trick. It’s real.”

“Real?”

“We are not totally without magic users ourselves, you know, Ra’Jirra. We have seen this future decades ago. Our race is doomed, Ra’Jirra. In fact, we do not believe the Dominion’s plans would change this destiny either. But a gathering of the Mer, Khajiit and Argonians together – that is a thing we had not considered.”

Ra’Jirra’s spirit fell as his words sunk in. Doomed. The khajiit race is doomed. 

But the Mane continued…

“Still, the Dominion is not to be trusted. We’ll need someone who knows them at the meeting. You, Ra’Jirra. You will attend.”

“But, Sir,” Devline interrupted, “How can she attend? Surely attendees on a meeting like this would be limited to only the closest of confidants and advisers! We would demand it of them.”

“Three, in fact,” the Mane said, continuing to pace. “Each contingent will have three members only for the real meeting. It is traditional. But yes, it is a problem.”

With the last words, he’d stopped before Ra’Jirra again and she looked up at him.

Beside her, Isdra spoke up, “She must become your concubine.”

“That would be the traditional way to get a female khajiit into such a meeting,” Devline agreed.

“What do you think, Ra’Jirra? Want to join my harem? I’m afraid it’s a lifetime assignment though.” the old khajiit smiled.

Suddenly Ra’Jirra’s mind leaped to Dar’Amon. He was really not going to like this.

“As my Mane wishes,” she said, bowing her head and reciting an old, schooltime phrase of patriotism, “so do I submit.”