Maybe a funny question, but how would life be if Vorialmo hadn't died? How about if Morry had died instead of him?
((If Vorialmo Hadn’t Died:Without Vorialmo’s death to throw him off the rails, Moraelyn would have remained in his position serving the Dark Brotherhood indefinitely, forever brooding on the actions that brought him his position, but essentially allowed to retain purpose and security. Moraelyn would never spend time in Leyawiin, would never become addicted to opium, would likely never find himself in Skyrim; the worst thing would be the ever-present sword of Damocles hanging over him, the dread of the discovery of Moraelyn’s true employment and the threat to their safety, physically and otherwise, such a thing would represent. The greatest fear in Moraelyn’s life would be the thought of Vorialmo’s look of terror and betrayal to know his sweet spouse is, and has always been, a killer. There would be little he wouldn’t do to avoid Vorialmo losing his innocence, as he sees it; under no circumstance could he allow Vorialmo to see who he really is.
The house of cards that Moraelyn’s secrecy and lies construct for Vorialmo’s sake potentially may never fall, however, which would give the most pleasant outcome for them both: the image, at least, of a long, quiet life. Vorialmo would work his way from a market stall to a modest storefront, then to his own staffed bakery, winning himself a fair few awards and accolades in the process if his foodstuffs are good enough. Moraelyn would take up tailoring, like his mother before him, ostensibly for the income but really just for personal pleasure.
They might consider moving to Anvil, for the warmth and sun. Moraelyn’s naturally ill-suited nature for monogamy would prove a perpetual source of moderate friction, though mitigated somewhat with open communication. Moraelyn would encourage Vorialmo to take a lover or two, feeling uncomfortable with an imbalance of sexual variety between the two of them, though it’s unclear how effective this would be.
If all went well, they might retire to a homestead in a century or two, content to grow silver by the sea. Maybe the wars never touch them, somehow or other. Maybe their luck holds out, and they’re given a long retirement in each other’s company and care, loved and safe until the end of their days.
Luck is a fickle thing, though, and has never been Moraelyn’s greatest feature.If Moraelyn Had Died Instead: Dredged in grief and denial, poor Vorialmo would likely do his best to defend the honor of his spouse, no matter the rumours surrounding his death. Completely unable to prepare Moraelyn’s body himself, he would travel alongside Moraelyn’s body to Cheydinhal, where the local Dunmeri community would have the understanding and resources necessary for the proper funerary services. Vorialmo would hate every moment of this, just as Moraelyn hated every moment of Vorialmo’s burial, but it is what he promised, and you can’t deny your lover their wishes in matters like these.
There would only be a certain few ways for Moraelyn to perish, and (outside of freak illness or accident) all of those ways would be incredibly incriminating. Perhaps a contract goes badly and Moraelyn is mortally wounded, found bleeding out in the target’s own house while still wearing his Brotherhood uniform. Perhaps a counter-assassination would be played out by an enraged widow or widower (an uncanny mirror to certain happenings after Vorialmo’s canonical death). However he died, Moraelyn’s career as a professional murderer would not take long to come to light, either through the circumstances of death, or during the collection and storage of his belongings upon Vorialmo’s return from Cheydinhal.
Between the pain of his loss and the shock of his discovery, Vorialmo would be shattered, but unlike Moraelyn, his grief cannot be expressed with a body count. After a little while, he would reopen the baking stall for business lest he get himself evicted, but a light would have gone out in him. He’d be slower to smile, quieter, shorter-tempered. He may develop a deep aversion to meat and blood, something that forever alters his diet and habits, even the path he takes to cross the market. Friends would no longer be allowed to visit him at home, which would grow dusty and cluttered with neglect in all rooms save the kitchen and the bedroom.
There would be anger in him, as much as the grief. A part of him would want to loathe Moraelyn for what he had been, and he may spend the rest of his life carrying guilt for not despising his monstrous mer as he should. Sometimes he would grow nauseous in the night at the thought of the killing, the blood; more often he weeps. When the daylight comes, he would spend more mornings in the chapel, but his heart wouldn’t truly be in it. He’d just need somewhere to act out his guilt. Slowly, he stops attending the shrines entirely.
Without Moraelyn’s influence and support, there wouldn’t be much between Vorialmo at his most vulnerable, and the wishes of his family. Should a new marriage be arranged for him, he may not have enough fight in him to resist. In his mind, there would be no point. His family would likely set him up with a relatively well-off Altmeri woman, despite Vorialmo’s sexual orientation, for the sake of legacy and social expediency. He would not love her, and might even actively reject being touched by her; there’s no telling how long it would take for him to heal from losing his first spouse.
From here, I don’t know. Maybe he gives in, gives his parents a grandchild and lives out his life in a dull, silent marriage to a woman he does not and cannot love. Maybe he snaps and leaves before the marriage contracts can be signed, moving somewhere new that reminds him of better times; maybe Cheydinhal, or Anvil like they’d always planned. Maybe he heads as far east as he can, away from his family and towards the culture of his deceased spouse, settling in Blacklight.
After all, Moraelyn always told him the Dunmer had ways of keeping spirits close by. Perhaps in Morrowind, someone could teach him how. He’d have so many questions for Moraelyn, so much anger and sadness and loneliness, and enough maddened drive to take those questions directly to him.
Who knows; maybe Vorialmo has a talent he’s never known he had…))
