Chapter Text
Khajiit, but not quite. Possibly a different breed- he’d heard of those. She was notably undersized (the females of the species often were), identifiable by grey fur so light it bordered white, black stripes, and eyes white ‘til the pupils.
“Striking, isn’t she?” Ondolemar mentioned as he looked in on the captive.
“Unnerving.” the door guard noted.
He’d have to agree. The uncanny valley between man and beast, maybe. Unfortunate, that. He observed the cat as she glanced about the stone cell and raised a brow, like a noble finding the lodgings distasteful. “Where was she intercepted?”
“Lurking about the embassy, sir.”
“Alone?”
“Correct.”
He rolled his eyes and closed the fresh journal in his hand. “A petty thief, obviously. Why bother me with this?”
“You realize I can hear you, right?” Her accent bothered him- Cyrodiilic overpoweringly, a hint of Skyrim on the A . She spoke like she’d never been to Elsweyr.
The two Thalmor exchanged a glance. That door was intended to be soundproof.
The guard disclosed, “ That would be why, sir.”
Without another word for the snide subordinate, Ondolemar entered the room. The Khajiit looked him over apathetically. “Interrogator. Lovely...”
He strode forward, imposing on her with a far superior height. “What brings you to the Thalmor embassy?”
She blinked, black lashes flashing over white eyes. “The guards, I’d say.”
“Quaint.” he grimaced, smoothing his robe before being seated. “I’ll only say that once.”
“I should hope so, after all I hear about superior altmer intellect.” She tucked her bound ankles over the slat between chair legs and let her knees fall together to the left side. That couldn’t be comfortable. “Sounds like overcompensating.”
Ondolemar carefully opened the soon-to-be dossier, setting out a quill and ink. If he was infuriated, the average observer would be none the wiser. He dipped, and began, “What is your name?”
“Alira.” she answered easily enough.
“Of?”
A dainty shrug; she turned her head to the side as she did, like a model for a sculptor. “Here and there. Wherever.”
“Point of origin?”
“Little property in the Pale.”
He eyed her unsurely. She didn’t sound like it. “Do you have family?”
“No.”
“A permanent residence?”
“No.”
“A place of employment?”
“I do what people tell me.”
He glanced up at her then, and let the words roll around in his head. The Khajiit- Alira- smiled kindly.
Ondolemar proceeded from basic information. “For what reason were you trespassing on Thalmor property?”
The smile held, and white eyes held his. “Curiosity killed the cat.”
“It does indeed...” he couldn’t help but mutter. Moving on quickly, he pressed, “Were you alone?”
“For once.”
“How long were you skulking about?”
“Not long enough to worry your little pointy ears. Really, I’ve done nothing against the Dominion, and I’m offended to be arrested in the first place. What cause do you have?”
Ondolemar didn’t glance up from the dossier where he shorthanded notes on a projected sense of power. “Suspicion.”
She sounded very entitled to reply, “You can’t hold me.”
Ondolemar smiled to himself before folding his hands on the table and making it very clear what she was in for. “We can do whatever we’d like.”
The cat blinked, and smiled her own. “I was being literal.”
The exposed feline fangs of her grin distracted him from her lifted hands, the strip of singed leather holding them together- until it snapped. She took a spell in either hand, and launched one at him. It burst green before his eyes, around him, and then she was taking the mace from his belt- which didn’t bother him at the time- and cleaving it into the door guard’s skull. The spell placated him, kept him untroubled and immovable.
She said goodbye, though- and he regrets to admit, he wished her a pleasant day.