#auri-el

A bit of lore about the context of these outfits: I am planning a fic that's honestly mostly crack treated seriously. For now, it's jokingly titled Sanguine's 11, and it involves him and ten other people breaking into Clavicus Vile's Fields of Regret to save (or steal, depending on your perspective) a snow elf that Sanguine more or less gave up to Vile, which he now has serious regrets over.

They decide the best way to go about this - as it also involves getting a bunch of people into Vile's realm that would usually not be there - would be to use a masquerade ball that Vile's hosting as a cover. Vile has intended it as sort of a networking event, of course, and since masks and opulent outfits can disguise a lot, his one rule regarding dress code is that it must be possible to recognize who's mortal and who's a Daedra. Therefore: all Daedra must wear divine-themed custumes and vice versa.

Sanguine, of course, immediately settles on Auri-el. It might be a bit on the nose, but he does want the snow elf to be able to recognize that something's up and help's on the way.

I am really fond of the idea that the chosen one, the hero, is reluctant or almost unwilling to play their part. I mean, Faenil is straight up UNQUALIFIED to be the dragonborn. Yes, they are skilled, they are powerful, they are resilient, and they get shit done, but they are definitely not a hero, and they're just one mental breakdown away from letting the whole world end. And like, they know they're unqualified, and they are so very confused by it all. Well, someone has to do it, but why them specifically? And while they might use this hero title to get away with some questionable things every now and then, they kind of hate that they can do that. After all, Faenil has always believed that you get your way through hard work and planning, so the dragonborn stuff just feels... almost like some sick joke from the gods.

I can't imagine Faenil was ever religious or cared about following any gods at all, and as a skilled conjurer they know how dangerous the daedra are so they don't dabble with that sort of worship either. But since in the Elder Scrolls universe deities are very much real, they're obviously kind of unavoidable. I'm sure Faenil had their fair share of visits to the church with their father, and I'm sure he liked Auri-El a whole lot and had this facade of a good holy man that only Faenil could see through. And I'm sure Faenil must feel quite weird when they get to Skyrim almost a hundred years later to find out that all those mind-numbingly boring sermons their father forced them to go through as a kid applied to them more than they realized.

No, Faenil doesn't like the divines, not only because they're the annoying facts and logic type science person lol, but because they genuinely believe the gods are so cruel. They know that they're just a playing piece in the divine interdimensional time travel chess board, and they absolutely hate it from the bottom of their rotten heart. And why should you even waste your breath praying to something that doesn't give a single flying fuck about you? They will maybe sarcastically gasp Auri-El's name during some humorous situation, but that's as deep as it goes. No, as far as Faenil is concerned, they're a god themself, unworthy of any worship, but welcoming of it nonetheless.

I always say that Faenil was supposed to die a long time ago, but they're just really, really good at surviving. Like, they thought that they were going to die many times, and yet, they just never do, because the gods have all these mysterious plans for them. Every time they come to peace with the fact that this was it, the end is here and they had a good run but now it's time to rest - it just... never happens. They never get to rest. And Faenil has never really been actively suicidal or anything, they're stupid destructive but very good at carrying on and surviving against all the odds. Like it's gone to the point that it's almost funny even, that they always get blown and torn apart, and they just continuously pick their parts up and stitch it all back together and keep on going. But it's a pretty gruesome existence, to have it happen to you over and over again - to have someone do that to your body, and still having the strength and pure determination to pick yourself up over and over again like it's nothing and screaming fuck you at the world and saying that your body is YOURS and that you are indestructible as long as you choose to be. And at that point, you might as well be divine.