Anathema, chapter 5

Anathema, chapter five

"What's taking him so long?" Carmine muttered, tapping his fingers impatiently against the table, "I know Orcs show up whenever they want to show up, but this is important. The open session is tomorrow and we need to sort out what we're going to say."
Olivier Régis sat opposite him, fidgeting with the frill on his cuff; "Do you... do you really think the public will want it legalised?"
"If the Imperial City contained nothing but Imperials, I'd say no. But since there's a mix of races and cultures here, we stand a good chance of success. Even so..." he pulled a small notebook from within his coat, "We'll need a persuasive argument. Gods know Aluin will have a speech prepared."
"I thought Marseius was our main opponent?"
Carmine grimaced at the mention of the man, "He's the most strongly opposed, but not the greatest threat. Sure, he can rage incoherently about homosexuality, but Aluin can translate that into something people will actually listen to," the notebook was opened, a quill and ink procured, "So, what should we say? So far I've got freedom of choice, equality for all, modern times calls for modern ideals... what else?"
"Why all these reasons?" Ra'Jani, the Khajiit councillor, cocked her head quizzically; possibly frowning, though it was hard to tell with such feline features, "This one is confused. There are arguments and Ra'Jani does not see the problem."
"Because many believe homosexuality to be unnatural – wrongly, of course," Carmine explained, though also inquired out of curiosity: "I take it the Khajiit don't mind it so much, then?"
"In Elsweyr, it is called 'Two-Moons'," Ra'Jani answered, "Male and female are like sun and moon – opposite, but necessary to create a new day. So when both are the same, and there will be no new day, that is Two-Moons."
"Why not Two-Suns?" Olivier questioned.
She blinked, confused, "We do not have two suns. But we do have two moons in our sky; it is part of nature, see? The Khajiit know this," she paused, "Besides, most Two-Moons takes place at night anyway. Ra'Jani watches the Waterfront, so she knows better than anyone."
At this, the Breton went an interesting shade of white, practically grey given how pale he usually was, "You... you spy on the Waterfront at night?"
"Correct," Ra'Jani gave a toothy grin, "This one thinks... Olivier has a thing for redheads."
"Preposterous! I don't know what you're talking about!" Olivier spluttered indignantly at once, "I've never been down to the Waterfront at night, not once-"
"Alright Olivier, we believe you," Carmine shushed him, though Ra'Jani was still grinning wickedly in the background, "So we're pretty much assured of a Khajiit vote, but it's worth bringing up at the session... what else can we say?"
"Well, we could mention that..." Olivier fidgeted hesitantly, but went ahead: "That it's not the Council's business what people get up to in their private life – not that I have anything to hide!" he added hastily when Ra'Jani's snicker could be heard, "I just – I meant – we lead the citizens of the Empire, that doesn't mean we have the right to control them."
"That's a good point," Carmine nodded, scribbling with his quill. He glanced about for the absent fourth member of their group, "I wish Goran was here. Some Orc insight could be useful."
"We have a starting point, right? Let me see..." Olivier peered at the notebook, only to frown at what he saw, "Carmine, you've just doodled all over the page."
"They are not doodles," Carmine protested heatedly, "These are my notes. Look, there's Two-Moons-" he pointed to two simplistic circles next to each other, "And there's your 'mind your own business argument-" as represented by what looked like a hand making a rude gesture. "It's just my way of remembering things."
"You mean in all those Council meetings, you were sat there drawing the entire time?"
"Note-taking."
"But how is anyone else supposed to understand what it all means?"
"Well that's the point, isn't it? No-one can decipher it but me. I've got plans for world domination in here and everything," at Olivier's stricken expression, Carmine said flatly, "That was a joke."
Whatever else the Breton might have had to say was cut off, however, by the arrival of Goran.
Goran gro-Garvan, whom everyone agreed had too many G's in his name, was a highly respected Orc chieftain. He was also a renowned warrior, so when he tried to open the door, he ended up pulling it off its hinges instead. This did not deter him, however, as he hurriedly tossed the door aside and marched into the room, announcing at once: "I think we have a problem."
Carmine had been about to demand why Goran was so late, but it was soon forgotten, "What do you mean?"
"I asked a few of the Orcs if they would be attending the open session tomorrow," Goran told him with a grimace, "And it was the first they'd heard of it. They were never notified. Nor was anyone else in the Waterfront or Market Districts."
"That can't be right, the word should have been spread..." and when it clicked, the Bosmer scowled darkly, "Aluin. I might've known he would do something like this."
"Tricky mage," Ra'Jani commented, though there was a certain admiration in her voice, "Clever mage. Clever, wily mage. Would make a good Khajiit."
"If he were a Khajiit, we wouldn't have to worry about him opposing us," Carmine muttered, tucking away the notebook and hopping off his stool. "We need to tell as many people as possible about the session; Goran, notify everyone on the Waterfront. Ra'Jani, convince as many Khajiit as you can to attend. Olivier, you and I will tackle the Market District."
"F-for tomorrow? Is it even possible to spread the word to so many-"
"I'll juggle Skooma to get their attention if I have to," Carmine declared with absolute seriousness, "And we don't have much a choice in the matter. Otherwise the only spectators at the session will be chapel fanatics and staunch conservatives – people who will support Aluin." And with that, he swiftly departed the room, the others in tow.

"I wish you'd told me sooner," Modryn muttered, "I'd have shaved properly this morning, at least."
"I did mean to bring up the subject, but it kept slipping my mind," Ocato answered, rather frantically smoothing his hair back. It looked almost unnaturally neat, not a strand out of place, "Besides, it doesn't matter if you've a bit of stubble, though the same can't be said for me. The public will be paying attention to the debate, not the security."
"I suppose," though he still glanced at himself in the mirror, and self-consciously thumbed a bristly cheek, "So what's being discussed?"
"Homosexuality."
He stopped at once, stubble forgotten, "Homosexuality?"
"That's what I said, wasn't it?"
"Yes, but why is that being discussed, of all things?"
"I've asked that plenty of times myself," the Chancellor grumbled lowly, but explained: "The Inner Council, which deals with the affairs of Cyrodil, wants the laws changed. But they're evenly divided – four want the penalties toughened, four want the fine dropped altogether – so the final vote falls to me," he sighed, left his hair alone, and instead began meticulously patting and straightening his silk robes, "But because I haven't come to a decision, they've called for an open session so the public can have their say."
"So the people choose the outcome?"
"Mm, yes and no. If they wanted the penalties toughened, I could still go ahead and legalise it anyway, but I'd lose a lot of respect and popularity in the process. So it usually means siding with whatever they say, but not always."
Oreyn nodded, though frowned as his employer pulled a little too hard on one of his sleeves, "Ocato, you'll end up tearing your robes."
"I know, I'm just – anxious. Open Council sessions are a last resort, and with good reason. They can be unpredictable, dangerous even," he finally left his sleeve alone and sighed, hands dropping into his lap, "I suppose I should get used to it, since it'll be happening more often from now on. I don't have an Emperor to confer with anymore."
"It'll be alright," Modryn said a tad gruffly, as close to kind reassurance as he could get. Had he not been so harried, a fond smile would have made its way onto Ocato's lips. "But if you don't mind me asking..."
"... Am I for or against?" the Altmer guessed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Neither. As I keep telling people, but they won't listen. Perhaps I should have a stronger opinion, but gods help me, I just don't care," he glanced at Oreyn's Dunmer features reflected in the mirror, a thought occurring to him: "What about Morrowind? What's the public stance on homosexuality there?"
"I couldn't tell you. I haven't set foot there for years," Modryn answered, careful to give away nothing more than that, "You don't really want to follow their example anyway. It took them long enough to abolish slavery."
"Touché," Ocato muttered, "What about your stance, then?"
Modryn looked puzzled, "My stance? Why do you want to know?"
And at that, Ocato looked puzzled – it was an odd thing to say, after all, "Why wouldn't I want to know? I value your opinion as much as anyone else's."
"I just thought I'd be kept out of the politics. I'm a warrior, not a diplomat."
"I've spent the past month talking to diplomats, and look where that got me. A warrior's opinion would be a refreshing change," the Chancellor told him, "Or are you as apathetic as I am?"
The bodyguard shrugged, "I don't see what difference it makes, myself. I've known Guild members who preferred other men, and it made them no less competent in a fight. I mean, if you work in administration, and also happen to swing that way, it doesn't mean you're having sex with the inkwells, does it?"
A grin twitched at the corners of Ocato's mouth; "Not with the Minister for Health and Safety prowling about, at any rate."
Modryn too wore a sly smile, "Has his nose healed up yet, by the way?"
"Enough to give me a long lecture on how he'd been right about the floorboards all along. But back on topic, there is a common sense to what you say. It's the person that matters, not the preference," he paused, and realised what he'd just uttered, "That sounds much like something Carmine would say... I must lean more towards wanting it legalised, then."
"Ah-ha, so now you know which side to take at the session."
"But you forget, it's an open session. If the public disagrees with me, I'll have to toughen up the penalties after all."
"You'd do that? Even though you know it's the wrong choice?"
"Right and wrong are interchangeable in politics. There's been plenty of things I've done and said that I didn't agree with."
"Why do or say them, then?" the warrior asked, almost demanded, "I don't see why it should be so difficult. Honesty may be blunt, and it may not always get you popularity, but it's still the better way to live."
"For one person, yes. For someone leading the Empire? No," Ocato was quick to retort, "I may be in charge, but the citizens are the ones with the true power, and I have to go with the majority vote. If I don't – there's political uprisings, provinces falling out with each other, riots in the street, assassination attempts – do you understand?" he stopped, taking a moment to calm himself before the subject got too heated. Oreyn was really the last person he wanted to argue with over this, "It's not so straight-forward. Even when I was Arch-Mage, I had to fight tooth and nail to get physical discipline abolished. Even though I was in charge, I couldn't just make it so."
"But you still managed it, right? And that wasn't a majority opinion."
Ocato sighed, "Do you know how I did it, in the end?" when Modryn shook his head, he continued, "Emperor Uriel heard about my plight, and took my side. And of course, as soon as the Emperor agreed with me, so did everyone else. The law passed without a hitch," he looked somewhat sour, "Emperors have the power to do and say as they wish. Emperors can pass a law of their choosing on a whim. Not High Chancellors."
Looking as envious as he did, Modryn could see why some accused Ocato of being a usurper, of wanting to take the crown for himself. And yet he also knew the man had no delusions of grandeur, given how he spoke of the citizens. If Ocato truly wanted to be Emperor, he would have already snatched the position by now, and used that absolute power to silence any opposition.
"I suppose... you may be right," he conceded, albeit grudgingly, "I don't know enough of politics to make a fair judgement anyway. Better off staying out of it, really," he paused, "But if you do end up outlawing homosexuality because of the majority vote... I won't hold it against you."
Ocato blinked, surprised. Those were not words he was accustomed to hearing, not when he was almost always to blame for something or another. He would be blamed over this law, no matter which side he chose, making it a relatively no-win situation for him. But if Modryn would not fault him for his decision, it made the situation seem a little less grim. "Well... thank you. I would appreciate that."
"No need to sound so formal," the Dunmer admonished lightly. Spotting that the back of Ocato's collar was askew, he carefully folded it upwards as it should have been, "We're friends, aren't we?"
For the first time in what felt  like an aeon, the Chancellor relaxed, "Yes. We are."

"Aluin," Junia whispered frantically, approaching the mer as he took his seat in the Council Chambers, the second-floor balcony above him slowly filling with spectators, "Aluin. We have a problem."
"Oh?" whether he had misread the panic in her voice or simply chosen to ignore it, he did not so much as blink at the words. Nor did he ask what the problem was, but simply left an expectant silence for Junia to fill.
"Carmine found out about the plan to influence the open session."
Again, impassiveness. He gave no more reaction than a perfectly-arched brow and a quiet murmur: "Did he now?"
"The Waterfront and Market Districts were notified. He has twenty supporters on the balcony."
"And how many do we have?"
"Twenty."
That got a reaction, at last. His eyes widened but a fraction, but it was enough, and Junia felt the dread course through her just as he did, "So we're evenly divided. That means the session won't make up Ocato's mind for him."
"Can... can you talk to him again? He listens to you, you might be able to-"
"No," Aluin interrupted at once, "The open session regulations specifically state that I can't attempt personal persuasion. All I can do is present my arguments to the public and let them pass their judgement," he glanced up at the people on the balcony, among which were an unusually high number of Khajiit, "I doubt anything could change the minds of Carmine's supporters."
She worried her lower lip, "So what do we do?"
"... Leave it to me," he sighed at last, "I can't directly influence Ocato during the session, but every rule has its loophole."
"We can still win, then?"
"We shall see," Aluin said softly, silencing as Carmine entered the room. The Bosmer made sure to glare at him fiercely as he walked over, maintaining eye contact even as he took his seat. Aluin stared back, unblinking, until both were distracted by the arrival of the High Chancellor.
"There he is- by the Nine," Junia inhaled sharply at the person who followed him in, "What is that?"
He too was surprised at what he saw, though he hid it much better than his associate; "Surely you've seen a Dunmer before, Junia?"
"Yes, but-" she descended slowly in her seat next to Aluin, "Just look at the state of him... what was Ocato thinking, hiring someone like that?"
He had to agree, though he did not voice it. From the way Ocato had spoken of the man, he had expected... well, not that. Someone who bothered to shave properly at least, since he could see the roughness of the Elf's face from here. And the hair... the Mohawk hailed from the ashland tribes of Morrowind if he recalled correctly, signifying the way of the warrior. But in more recent times, it had gained an association with unsavoury types, thuggish rebels and cut-throat bandits. It was certainly inappropriate for the bodyguard of a High Chancellor.
He wasn't the only one staring; even Carmine and his ilk looked outright astonished in the Chancellor's choice of security. Said security had also noticed he was being gaped at, and defensively crossed his arms over his chest, over scratched and scruffy iron armour. Ocato cleared his throat loudly, snatching everyone's attention away as he seated himself between the two opposing sides.
"As High Chancellor, I welcome the members of the public, and thank them for attending this open Council session," he began, voice travelling easily up to the second floor, "The issue up for debate is homosexuality. Speaking in favour of legalisation – Carmine, would you like to begin?"
"Yes, I-" the Wood Elf stopped to glance again at the bodyguard stood by the entrance doors – and in that moment, Aluin knew Carmine would not win today. Even when he coughed and continued speaking, his words were distracted, unclear: "I think it should be legal. Because people should, er, should be allowed to... to..."
"Carmine," Ocato muttered when the mer went back to staring at Oreyn, "Pay attention."
"I am," Carmine mumbled in reply, still very much fixated on the Dunmer – more specifically, the Dunmer's Mohawk, "How does he get it to stand up like that...?"
"Pay attention to the meeting, Carmine, not Modryn's hair."
"What Carmine means to say," Goran gro-Garvan declared, rising from his chair to address the public, "Is that homosexuals should be granted equal rights to the rest of us, because they're really no different-"
"You'd compare the good people of this city to them?" someone – evidently on the 'against' side – shouted from the balcony, "Limp-wristed, lilac-wearing queers who run after other men because they're too inadequate to please their wives?"
Olivier tugged self-consciously on his silken cravat, mumbling, "What's wrong with lilac...?"
At the decidedly Marseius-like heckle, Carmine finally turned his attention back to the debate: "The few homosexual folk who are married are with a wife only because people like you demand it, demand that they should be something they're not," he argued fiercely, sparking a collective jeer of protest from the opposition in the crowd, "If that social barrier didn't exist, those men would be a lot happier. It's both unfair and hypocritical to call them inadequate when you forced them into that position!"
"First you drift off mid-sentence and now you shout at our dear public," Jelani, the Argonian, spoke up from Aluin's side of the table, "Very unprofessional, Bosmer. I think you are a poor spokesperson for such a delicate matter."
"And I think your reasons for wanting homosexuality banned are awfully suspicious," Carmine shot back, eyes narrowed, "There are no laws against same-gender relationships in Black Marsh. Why have you sided with Aluin, really?"
"A male cannot have hatchlings with another male. This rule applies to everything, no? Even nature agrees."
"And yet your fellow Argonians don't."
"We are in Cyrodil, not Black Marsh," was the smooth reply, "And the people here believe that homosexuality should be banned."
"Not all of us believe that," in the crowd, a Redguard stood up, "I have nothing against homosexuals. So long as they keep their business behind closed doors, we've no reason to discriminate against them."
To which another of the audience spoke: "And what if they don't keep it quiet? This law will let them flaunt their ways. That's not something I want my children to see."
"Why not?" demanded another, "The whole purpose of legalising it is to drop the taboo. Children need to learn there's nothing wrong with it."
"Of course there's something wrong with it-"
Soon enough, the crowd were arguing amongst themselves, and barely paying attention to the Inner Council's additions to either side – Marseius and Carmine being the loudest. Aluin spared a glance towards Ocato, who was rubbing his eyes tiredly. It spoke volumes about his stress, since Ocato liked to maintain a pristine, unaffected front before the public eye.
Without attracting too much attention, Aluin reached for his quill, visiting the inkwell before he took it to the page. Nonchalantly, he looped the words large across the parchment; gibberish to most, but in fact a now-archaic form of Elven he knew Ocato would have studied in the Summerset Isles. He placed the quill aside with a resounding click that caught Ocato's attention and watched from his peripheral vision as the Chancellor's eyes flicked from pen to page. It was but two words, but it was enough to make the man visibly tense:
The Altmer.
And then Ocato glanced up – looking, Aluin knew, at the High Elf that had been very deliberately placed in the crowd to argue against Carmine's plight. He did not miss the slow, weary exhale from the Chancellor thereafter.
"-Marriage isn't just to create children," someone above was saying, "You marry for love, and happiness. They feel that just as we do."
"And what about other things? A man is supposed to find a wife. It's his duty to..."
Duty. That was what it came down to. The rest of the sentence melted away until only that word, that concept, remained. Ocato was staring impassively at the patch of table before him. Only Aluin truly knew what that meant.
"So what would you do then, to stop homosexuality?"
"Forbid it completely!" Marseius was heard to shout above the roar of the heated crowd, "No warning, straight to prison! Get the death penalty in, that would soon stop them."
"What, so our solution is to just kill everything we don't like?"
"Why not? It worked back in Tiber Septim's day!"
"Everyone... everyone!" Chancellor Ocato said at last, trying to bring order to the anarchic crowd. And failing, since it took several tries and the eventual use of a blindingly bright light spell to hush them up, "We have argued long enough. I need your verdict... how many people are in favour of legalisation?"
As Aluin had predicted, exactly twenty people raised their hands. So no-one's opinion had been changed by the debate.
"And how many are against?" the remaining twenty raised their hand, "... Evenly divided. Wonderful."
"Have you reached a decision, Chancellor?" Aluin asked softly, fingers lightly tracing over the words he had written earlier, "Or perhaps you'd like more time to consider?"
"Yes... more time, I think," the other Altmer nodded, a certain tiredness to the motion, "Very well, I hereby declare this Council session concluded. Thank you all for your input."
A few protests of: "But no decision was reached!" followed as Ocato rose from his chair, and departed the Chambers. The Dunmer bodyguard immediately moved to escort him, the words Are you alright? on his lips just before they passed through the doors. He didn't see the answer.