"You're right. You're quite right. Keep a smile, carry a knife, and wear clothes you can fight in. You can be quite sure, or as sure as you can be about anything regarding my wonderful self, that I'll be there at the event with you."
"Clothes I can fight - I'm having a dress made, and if anyone wants to stain it with their blood, I'm going to tear out their throat and have the entire thing redone in red fresh from the source."
Layers, then. She really, really doesn't want one of the first pretty things she's ever gotten for herself to be destroyed.
"And what's this I hear about you surprising Degas Clayton unexpectedly?"
“He asked me, quite out of the blue, if I’d like to take his last name as my own! I told him I certainly wouldn’t mind, especially for the sake of providing a steadier home life for you, but I asked that he at least wine and dine me first.”
"That can't have been the entire conversation - and what are you even talking about, my home life? It's just fine! I haven't even decided what I want to call him and you're trying to marry him?"
She throws up her hands in mock exasperation.
"You can't press the suit until I figure that out. I can't call you both father - he needs his own word. Distinct, to avoid mixups."
“Oh, yes, that’s absolutely essential! And of course, I know you’re doing just fine, love, but what if your quality of life could be even better? I assume that’s why Degas proposed in the first place, because he has your best interests at heart. You know, I was skeptical at first, even distrustful, but then he showed me who he really is.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I have very high standards. But it isn’t a marriage in the Daedric sense, I think, more a matter of common law. I’m already bound to someone else metaphysically, after all.”
"I suppose that is a fairly pointy point. Relationships do become a tangled matter when you're spread across several pieces in several worlds. Not to mention all the little crumbly bits that stem from those pieces breaking off to be pieces."
A tap tap tap of his cane on the floor.
"To be quite honest, love, I don't know what it would change. It's an idea that feels at least worth entertaining, but I have nothing to go off of. This is my first time being a father in the mortal sense outside of my own realm. I don't really know what I'm doing- which is exciting! But also frightening. And also frustrating."
"So you do what I've already been doing. Attend to things as they comes up. No need for a plan or to know anything in advance."
It's not as though she knows how to be a daughter in that way either. One that gets acknowledged even without following commands. It's not as though she doesn't intend to improvise through the rest of her life.
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Layers, then. She really, really doesn't want one of the first pretty things she's ever gotten for herself to be destroyed.
"And what's this I hear about you surprising Degas Clayton unexpectedly?"
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That's loud enough with the open window to be heard from the street.
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"That can't have been the entire conversation - and what are you even talking about, my home life? It's just fine! I haven't even decided what I want to call him and you're trying to marry him?"
She throws up her hands in mock exasperation.
"You can't press the suit until I figure that out. I can't call you both father - he needs his own word. Distinct, to avoid mixups."
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She very much doubts still that Degas proposed at all. But she'll have to go to Degas's house and ask later.
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Go on, then. She'll indulge this flight of fancy for a moment.
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"I suppose that is a fairly pointy point. Relationships do become a tangled matter when you're spread across several pieces in several worlds. Not to mention all the little crumbly bits that stem from those pieces breaking off to be pieces."
A tap tap tap of his cane on the floor.
"To be quite honest, love, I don't know what it would change. It's an idea that feels at least worth entertaining, but I have nothing to go off of. This is my first time being a father in the mortal sense outside of my own realm. I don't really know what I'm doing- which is exciting! But also frightening. And also frustrating."
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It's not as though she knows how to be a daughter in that way either. One that gets acknowledged even without following commands. It's not as though she doesn't intend to improvise through the rest of her life.
"We've gotten this far, after all."
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Even being drunk, she remembered the incident fondly.
"...And it's not every person who'll hear me tell them of my curses and still say they love me."
He knows. He knows, and he still embraces her. Sheogorath knows how much that means to her, how she clutches such a thing to her heart.
"I'm glad I told him."
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