"But," said Erikur's sister. "I liked 'Ollani and Tynus'."
"Oh, everybody cites Ollani and Tynus as her definitive work." said Commander Luridius Amavo of the Penitus Oculatus. "But the majority of her books? Simple filth for unimaginative lechers."
"I'll say." said General Tullius. "My favourite was 'Even More Adventures of Lulincka the Nord'."
Thane Bryling prodded at her carrots. "Is that the one where the priests catch her violating the Altar of Tahl?"
"No, that was 'More Adventures...'. 'Even More Adventures' is where she dominates the Orc Lords of Mortag."
"Of course, the Empire wasn't built on banning books." said Amavo. "But Doryli Vlars books should be kept away from impressionable people. It gives them ideas."
"I think impressionable people should have more ideas, not less." said Melaran.
"Oh, yes!" Vittoria Vici said happily. "I get all my ideas for my life from books, and plays."
"And there's no shame in that. Many of Doryli Vlars' readers are women who do the same, Lady Vittoria. It uncomplicates the thought process. But some gentlewomen, taken unawares, could easily take the lessons of these books to extremes.
The novels glamourise criminality, and treat casual sex, outlandish nude religious rituals and marital infidelity as accceptable everyday occurrences. There's no moral message or ethical guidance in what she writes. That's what you should really be looking for in a work of fiction. Is everything all right... I'm sorry, could you just remind me of your first name, again?"
It was true, and Thane Erikur's sister appeared moderately bewildered.
"Commander Amavo." said Eldaline. "Your eyebrows."
"Are they automatically folding again? They told me that should stop in the first few weeks."
"Oh, now they've fallen off, damn that wig-maker."
"Oh, don't let your search for your eyebrows interrupt your speech about the responsibilities of authors to morally guide their readers." said Eldaline. "I believe you were about to blame this unfortunate Doryli Vlars woman for that affair you had with your colleague's wife last year."
"Good thing your late husband didn't allow such books into the palace, by the sound of them." said Lady Flyte, with her mouth full of horker loaf. "I've never read them, of course. But they do sound very juicy. Did Torygg not like juicy things, Cousin Elisif?"
Falk Firebeard swallowed his wine quickly in his efforts to rescue the Jarl from embarrassment. "King Torygg was not specifically an enemy of juicy literature, Lady Flyte. This Doryli Vlars can be notoriously excessive, I hear. Although I have never read any."
"And neither have I." said the Jarl.
Commander Amavo alarmed the far end of the dining table by leaping from his chair, fortunately not upsetting any plates. "That's it! Apologise immediately for alluding to events in my personal life, in polite company!"
"I wasn't alluding to anything, Commander, I was openly talking about it." said Eldaline, which evidently was not an apology, and so the situation continued.
"And I was only proposing a theory that the novels of Doryli Vlars cause women in particular to exhibit unnecessarily spicy behaviours. And don't cite Ollani and Tynus as an exception. I know Ollani and Tynus is a damn exception. There was no need for personal comments. I told her husband, I'm not made of stone. I'm not made of stone, damn it all to Oblivion!"
"Only a moment ago you were about to say it was all the fault of a reclusive Dunmeri author, so I don't see why you see the need to justify your personal life to me, Commander. I'm sure your esteemed colleague came to accept your explanation. He seemed a lot calmer about the matter with his wife when I last saw him. Mistakes were made. Lessons were learned. A good time was had by all."
"You burned my eyebrows off, you sunken-faced trollop."
"You nearly wrested my arm off for throwing one fireball, and I was forced to defend myself. Under the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, I was perfectly entitled to throw that fireball, which, contrary to your erroneous report to my ambassador, was medium-sized, not large. But I do not expect you to know, least of all admit, the difference."
"Draw your weapon!" Shouted Amavo. "And your ceremonial festival armour is ridiculous!"
"I am a weapon, and your ceremonial festival armour is ridiculous too!"
"That doesn't look like a regulation medium-sized fireball, Second Archivist. Put it away and face me like a civilised person."
"That's your eyebrows distorting your perception again."
"You're going to make me come over there, aren't you?" Falk bellowed.
Eldaline turned to face the top table. "Good, then you can tell me how big you think this fireball is."
"Hey-ho, you two!" Called Malvilda, Lady Flyte. "You're spoiling my cousin's party. Now, make up, like Ollani and Tynus, for it is Heart's Day!"
"No. But I'll pursue my complaint at a later date." Luridius Amavo sat back down again.
Eldaline, though, did not sit down. "What do you mean, like Ollani and Tynus? He killed her. That is not what you mean at all."
"It is..." The Duchess fumbled with her tiara. "The most romantic of the works of Doryli Vlars. Tynus saw through the lies of the Daedric Prince. They... ran away together and defied the Alessian commander."
"Eldaline, one of these strange knights has started looming." said Melaran. "I think it's something to do with you. Not that I can tell who he's staring at, but I think it's you."
"They changed the ending?" Eldaline cried, to nobody. "They gave my book a happy ending? Divines' poisoned fangs!"
"Your book?" said Falk Firebeard.
"But," whined the Jarl. "Tynus is a great hero of modern romance. The Daedric Prince Mephala arrives, in the guise of a beautiful Alessian warrior woman, and tells him that Ollani plots to enslave him again. But his love makes him see the truth. He says: 'Away, cruel and jealous whispering lady, for another has revealed your true form to me, and her name is love.' It made me cry. Although I have not read it, of course."
"There was no hero. There was only Tynus, a weak-minded coward, cowed more by the mockery of his troops than the doom of his lover. That is why he killed her. Do you not understand? Tynus killed Ollani on the orders of his commander. There was no whispering lady in his head. Mephala was not even in the story. How in Oblivion did Mephala get into the story? There was no otherworldly force at work to tell him lies, for he told them to himself. Why are you all gawping at me like that?"
Now, perhaps worried by the approach of the duchess' knight, Eldaline did sit down. "Yes, I am Doryli Vlars. The line goes: 'I deny my cruel and jealous lover, for another has revealed her true name to me. Her name is lust'."
"Let's go through this again." Said Skavild. "When I read 'Ollani and Tynus' by Doryli Vlars, the story had a happy ending, albeit damned silly and inexplicable."
"It always has a happy ending." said Aranwen.
Skavild continued apparently going through it again. "No, it doesn't. The Sload Ambassador Q'Jola told me the same story again, but this time he lifted the tale straight out of the author's mind, 'cause he said the author was somehow nearby, not in Morrowind..."
"... It is too terrible to think of twice." said Very Junior Archivist Linvel. "Poor Ollani! That cruel, cruel man."
"It is only a story, Junior Archivist Linvel." said Junior Archivist Halthir.
"Yes!" Skavild went on, without consideration for Very Junior Archivist Linvel's feelings. "In the version I saw in the Sload's vision, Tynus bloody well stabbed her to death on the orders of his commander."
"And there was a Daedric Prince in my version." Aranwen said. "Mephala, Prince of Lies. She was the one who whispered in the night that Ollani was conspiring against him, and made him conspire against her right back. But it was all lies, of course. That's what you'd expect, from the Daedric Prince of lies."
"I saw no sign of Mephala in the mind of the author." said Ambassador Q'Jola. "The idea was entirely his own. A perfectly judicious plan. The Ayleid City had fallen. Princess Ollani had freed her slaves long ago. Tynus had nothing more to gain from her alive, but many possibilities for advancement through the ranks by killing her in front of his commander."
"I'm gettin' to understand the way the Sload think, but honestly, that's not the point of a romantic novel." said Skavild. "It's not about career advancement or judicious decisions. More often the total opposite."
Aranwen gave up her search for a clean brandy glass and knocked on the bar. "So. Sload can manifest illusions they lift out of people's minds."
"Yes." said Skavild. "Sload aren't creative. How many more times do you need to go through that part?"
"As many as it takes me to work it all out before you do, Mr. Shiny Ball.
Before the winter, we spent ages running around in an illusion spell, looking for a Daedra. But it wasn't a Daedra. It was a Sload. And this time, it's not an illusion spell, it's just a mad duchess pretending to be a character from a Doryli Vlars novel, pretending to know characters from Doryli Vlars novels like they're real people."
"Yes." Skavild said again. "And this time, we've gone and accused a Sload. But it's not the Sload. In fact, this time, it really could be..." But the door crashed open. And it shut again, in a more civilised way.
"A Daedra threatens the Second Archivist!" cried Aralina. "And also the Jarl of Solitude, the commander of the Imperial Legion, and all the nobles. Arm yourselves at once and follow me to the Blue Palace!"
"We were just about to work it out." said Skavild. "Why'd you have to barge in just then? And where've you been? I've left you twelve memorandums about still needing to smack you on the arse. Your hair looks nice, by the way."
"And I'm not going anywhere until the entire thing is explained to me again, several times." said Ondolemar.
Aralina failed to answer any of these questions. "Is that the Second Archivist's Sload from Northwatch Keep?"
"Tell you what." said Skavild. "Let's all agree to explain on the way."
continues!