The Mad-God Calls

by Slypunk1217

Summary:

This is very self indulgent and I've never done this before. English IS my first language I'm just bad at it.

 

Abby, a 30 year old woman from Florida, wakes up in the woods near a dead body. But that's not any dead body. They've been shot by a fucking arrow, and they're absolutely a Dunmer. Panicked, Over-it and 50% sure this is a dream she takes up where he left off on the familiar adventure of Elder Scrolls Oblivion.

Notes:

This is my first fanfic in 100 years. Please let me know if it looks weird or is hot garbage, I'm not gonna stop writing it I should just know if it's ugly. Please be gentle with me I really was educated in Florida.

Chapter 1: Awake

Chapter 1: Awake.

Abby was probably too old for this shit. Her head and back were pounding separate tempos inside her body making absolutely every position uncomfortable. That’s what I get for sleeping on the ground, she thought because it was too stiff to be her bed or love seat. And yet not stiff enough to be the linoleum floor she expected. Which alarmingly left the actual Earth as her bed.

Abby’s eyes shot open blinding her temporarily as her body began to communicate with itself and bring her to full consciousness. The cloudless sky above her was broken up by the tall canopy far overhead. It smelled strongly of woods and dirt and not nearly enough of her actual home. The complex she lived in was in a fairly urban area. It had trees, sure, even a dog park but no where she could have passed out for more than 10 hours without a wellness check of some kind.

So where the actual fuck was she?

Eyes sweeping her surroundings, Abby relaxed a little. This is a dream. A weird ass dream but no cause for panic. She frowned slightly.

Typically realizing it was a dream meant she was on the very edge of consciousness and would soon start awake to her alarm or a neighbor stirring behind the thin walls near her.

She closed her eyes for a moment focusing. Perhaps she could wake up this way? Her body throbbed again in discomfort despite sitting up and off the compressed dirt.

After a moment of trying she remained, seated, uncomfortable and asleep. She exhaled and pushed herself to stand. The side of her face pulsed an angry hot jab that caused her to yelp slightly.

“Fuck.” Right, her wisdom tooth had just been pulled. So, drugged sleep? She probably needed more drugs if she was dreaming about the extraction pain.

Abby frowned again trying to stay calm, if she was in that much pain why hadn’t she woken up for real? Turning her attention to her surroundings again she tried to spot any signs of dream vs reality.

She certainly didn’t recognize this forest. She wasn’t much into the outdoors anyway being from the swampy hot South. Nothing too fantastic for reality appeared. Her last in-the-woods dream involved a pay phone that was always ringing. Abby clenched her jaw and quickly released it with a wince. She glanced nervously about for the phone, hoping it actually was reality rather than reliving that nightmare.

But the problem was, that with no phone, or other silly little dreamscape she often found, it meant this was real and she was in an unknown wood. She tilted her head back to the trees again hoping to spark something familiar. The sky above her was too clear beyond the leaves. The leaves themselves were unfamiliar as well. She’d never seen the top of redwood trees in California, only the bottoms, often photographed for the large trunks. These trucks were too thin for redwoods she knew but too tall to be of any help. Even with her patchwork knowledge of plants

Utterly unlike any forest within 100 miles of her home. The sound of insects chirping and the whisper of wind through tall grass had a vividness her brain usually couldn’t fake in sleep. She took a steadying breath.

But that’s what this was, right? A dream. One of those lucid, hyper-detailed ones. Maybe she was simply getting better at dreaming. Maybe the dentist drugs were laying her ass flat out. Maybe she’d been playing Oblivion too late again.

The dirt beneath her feet felt real. Cold. Damp. She was barefoot, another indicator she might actually be in the fucking forest. Have I ever dreamt of my feet before? She thought before snorting, what a bunch of bull shit this maybe- dream was.

A loud POP caught her attention. She turned to see a gently crackling but dying campfire behind her. Her breath caught unevenly and her heart-the only thing not previously pounding like an energetic toddler on a drumset- took off as if she was running full sprint.

There was a body beside the fire.

Not asleep, she could tell even from here some 15 feet away. She had dreamt before of death and spooky bodies but this was new. This was too real to be her own mind.

He wasn’t just dead. He was.. different .A Dunmer? His skin pale in death, chalky over its normal dark pallor. He had an arrow protruding from his fist, clenched like he’d tried to pull it out of his guts himself. He probably had, and now he was staring glassy red eyes to the sky, his white hair disheveled and red in places as if he’d pushed it back from his face with bloody hands.

Abby couldn’t move. Almost couldn’t think for the shot of fear and confusion.

Okay! Okay? creepy. Just a dream. Just a really detailed, murdery dream.

But doubt filled her again when she looked down at her hands. Smaller, paler, faint blue veins under the skin, she knew something was off. She wasn't in her pajamas. Or the comfortable sweats she’d planned for the dentist. She wasn't looking down at her own body. Her chest and torso were much smaller. Bulky instead of the comfortable expected jiggle and flab. Her legs were comparable but clearly more muscular. Her sleeves and torn shorts were rough, woven wool.

Every new thing she discovered or observed warred against the last in this.. is this a dream or real argument. The problem was: would she act differently around a body, (real or not), either way?

Fuck, She cursed. The fire’s not out. There are no bugs. He’s not been dead long.

This meant that as far as everyone who knew him was aware, he was still alive. They’d never know what happened to him if she turned and left. Also whoever shot him might be about, following him to his camp to make sure he died?

“Double fuck.” She whispered conscious of the ache in her mouth. “Okay, searching for clues. Also, you better be fucking dead I swear” She muttered clenching her fists.

Her first step toward him gave her a bit of vertigo, she felt as if she’d missed a step at the top of a staircase. Her stomach lurched and her ears strained for a moment like a deer warning her most primal survival brain, at the very edges of her consciousness that danger was near. A faint laugh caught her attention.

Completely still, not even daring to breathe. Abby strained for the sound again…

Nothing.

“Triple fuck” She exhaled miserably, and continued onward.

As she reached the tent her eye caught on a small satchel just inside the mouth of the tent, a fair stretch for the dead body if he were reaching for supplies. Not ideal, she despaired, because he probably didn’t have any. Abby circled his body rather than reach over and watching him for a moment reached out, hand shaking slightly, to snatch his bag to her.

Inside was a water-skin, a few red vials, a crumpled piece of parchment, a change of clothes and a leather-bound ugly orangish journal. The cover was scorched slightly.

She flipped it open and read the first few lines:

17th of Last Seed, 3E 433

The Emperor is dead. I barely made it out of the prison alive. I went on his harebrained errand to the blades. The leader of the blades says I must find a priest named Martin in Kvatch. Brother Martin is the last living heir to the Septim line, and unaware of his parentage. I do not want to tell him but I doubt he’ll just follow a stranger to Chorrol. Unless he’s an idiot like his father. Uriel knew me by my name but thought I was a woman? I’m not sure if that makes me fetching or ugly? On top of everything else going on I now have to wonder if every human thinks I’m a woman. This does explain that handsy nord in Caldera. Fetcher.

Abby's stomach twisted.

"This… this isn't just a dream?" she whispered and thumbed to the next entry.

20th of Last Seed 3E 233

I’m only two days from Kvatch now. I’ve cut a straight line as the roads are unsafe and I’m not familiar with Cyrodiil as I’d like for an adventure. The woods aren’t all that safe either, to be honest… I think I am being followed, I can hear their footsteps and laughter trail me but haven’t seen anyone, day or night. Travel and poor sleep are starting to get to me. I dreamt last night of a sky with one moon. It felt too real to mean nothing. I pray that if this is madness, of some disease from that miserable prison or a curse from that wretched slippery king rock, that Azura takes me fast before it claims me. I haven’t been this devout since I was very young but better to go to the twilight of Moonshadow (with two fucking moons, thanks) than to the Shivering Isles.

The pages before that told of chaos. More details on the Emperor’s assassination, of the dragon fires and his charged duty with the Amulet of Kings. MUCH more cursing and fleeing through the sewers beneath the Imperial City. The writer wasn’t pretending. This was a written firsthand account. An honest collection of their thoughts. The writing uneven, the letters thin with a writing tool one day or thick like a crayon the next. Cramped and hurried or spaced evenly and neatly. Alive. Or he had been…he was supposed to be here. He were supposed to be heading to Kvatch for Martin. This was the Hero of Kvatch.

But now he was dead. Still and chilling beside her.

And Abby was… here. Alone.

This is insane. But if this is real….if I’m really here…I can’t just sit and wait to die like he did.

Someone was following him anyway, surely soon to arrive if he’d heard the laughter as well. She closed the book and hastily repacked his bag. She poked her head into the tent to see if there was anything else inside. Nothing but a worn mat. The pack had straps for it. Rolling it up wouldn’t be too much trouble… The tent might be beyond her, there were no creases in the fabric pulled taut. She might have been able to guess at how he had it rolled if there had been.

Sleeping mat secured, she turned to the body.

It was still warm. Maybe from the fire. Maybe the recent death? It felt wrong, looting a body... but he wasn’t using it anymore.

“If you don’t want to join him as a dead body you have to do it” She hissed.

Having properly bullied herself, Abby set about checking his pockets and patting him down for extra pockets she might not know about in the foreign armor. This search turned up 3 small knives: one for hunting, one for cutting maybe strings or nails? And the one in his boot most certainly for stabbing.

She also needed his boots.

Most of his clothes actually. The shirt and leather chest piece were mostly useless due to several gashes in the fabric and leather and the hole from the arrow, and maybe a fireball? Had he tried to seal up the wound? Why not take one of the red vials in the bag? Unless they were something else?

“Potion of cure constipation” She laughed a short hysterical sound and she unlaces bracers. She resolved not to take one until someone could look at them for her. In the end, she had tugged on his pants, greaves, boots, socks, bracers, pauldron and backpack. She had searched his wrists for hair ties but decided she didn’t know what historical leather ties looked like or he was a maniac and left his hair loose while he traveled.

The very last thing she did at this tiny camp was cut a hole in the tent roof and then saw it in half untying it to take it with her. None of the clothing she was wearing, nor in his backpack looked remotely waterproof. If this place was anything like Florida, it might rain once a day at 3pm for 15 - 40 mins. And nothing was worse than being hot, besides being wet and hot! Besides these pants and greaves combo was screaming, “YOU WILL HAVE CHUB RUB” soon no need to add water and make it worse.

You wanted to visit Tamriel, she thought bitterly. Congratulations. You’re in the beginning quests... and the real hero just failed.

Kitted in the stolen gear of a dead stranger, Abby made a slow turn, eyes studying the forest and sky as far as she could see. Nothing was thrilling her as far as clues.

There’s a new fucking sun. She thought scathingly. How was she supposed to find Kvatch?!?

“Let’s see… your sleeping roll was set to head that way. You don’t look like a morning person. But there are no alarm clocks here” She conceded. “So your head was to the East, because the sun hopefully moves the same, so south from Chorrol…. Is that way?”

Abby slowly turned from the camp and body to the direction she was strongly suspected was south. She paused a moment longer looking at the red eyes.

“I’ll find Martin Septim,” she whispered to him. “And I’ll try to finish what you started.”

She took her first steps away from him through the forest, one hand resting on her new knife cautiously.

This entire dream was bullshit. But privately she thought this might not be a dream at all… and that worried her even more.

Chapter 2: Road to Kvatch

Summary:

Abby makes her way through the wilderness and meets her first set of people. Unfortunately everything is starting to point to this being real and not a dream.

On the scale of dream vs reality. This hiking trip was leaning a little too sharply to reality for comfort. Keeping the mountains on her right in the distance and forest to her left she continued straight-ish toward what she hoped was Kvatch, or honestly any civilization.

A strong point for reality was the unending ache in her feet and legs. Apparently magic muscles weren’t immune to strain. In her quest to stay on track she was marching directly forward, resulting in steady up and down motions as she climbed and crested what were probably foothills.

Being from Florida - an entirely flat place with the exception of some northern places practically another state - hills, mountains, and inclined in general were atypical.

“I would have a nightmare about mountains” She snickered to the soft quiet of nature. She’d been traveling for a full day now since the camp and hero. Her first night on the ground, that she intentionally started, was unpleasant to say the least. It got cold at night, another abnormality from home, Florida nights were dark and hot instead of just hot. Her poncho that was actually a tent seemed to uncover some part of her if she relaxed fully exposing it to the chill. She’d taken a while to finally surrender and sit up, back against a tree to better encompass her legs in the fabric.

Once she was upright every sound had startled her eyes open. Still thinking of whoever shot the Dunmer, she strained her senses to the point of headache a few times before reasoning with herself that they’d likely need a light to see her and were probably also tired so there was no point staying awake.

Also would they even be looking for her? They ought to have found the body. His things were missing but nothing that went with her was worth continuing the hunt in her opinion.

Can Khajiit see at night?!?!

It had taken her a long time to sleep after that and she’d dreamt of her neighbor's orange elder fat cat Deltora asking if she “had coin for her car's extended warranty.”

A dream within a dream wasn’t something she’d ever had happen before either. Worrying to say the least.

The only good thing about the night and next morning was that waking up snuggling to the satchel of pilfered goods allowed her to find a hidden pocket with a map and some snacks she previously hadn’t seen.

To be fair she’d just woken up into the world’s worst anesthesia dream. So she could excuse herself a bit. She ate half a loaf of bread and some thin triangular slices of cheese for breakfast as consolation.

The map she found was fairly useless as it had a few key scribbles on it, the major cities and several bodies of water but nothing else.

“No compass because who needs that right?” She’d bitterly stuffed the map back into the pocket annoyed at it. No way to truly gauge where she was, where everything else was, and which way to Kvatch. Or the ICU.

A few hours after she’d started walking however, her hard work and aching muscles paid off. In the distance, down hill thank fuck, was a fence! Beyond that sheep and maybe a mile past that a building with a thatched roof. Her heart raced a bit considering it.

No smoke, but it was daytime, did they need fires during the day? And live sheep was a good sign. Bandits didn’t keep sheep.

Vampires might keep sheep sometimes lived at mills, her thoughts argued.

“Fuck off it’s too sunny.” She scolded herself deliberating. And the inane vampire debate was settled by seeing a distant figure by the fence midway between the sheep and house working on the fence.

She was jogging toward him before she could think better of it. Her footsteps and gear jingled and sounded like thunder to her along with her labored breathing as she neared him. He must have also heard her approach as he turned to face her pausing in repairing the post before him.

I have never seen this man before in my life, another point against dreaming.

“Hi there!” She called and waved. He didn’t wave back and she cringed. She probably looked like a maniac right now. A dirty, grave robbing lunatic a voice laughed. “ Hi sorry to startle you, I’m a bit turned around. Can you tell me where I am?”

The man relaxed a little, clearly deciding she was a harmless idiot. Which fair. He whipped his hands on his pants and spoke.

“Shardrock” His voice was real enough too. Coming from him directly not echoey like dreams, his mouth moving not just her mind providing the words as sometimes happened when sleeping. “This here is Shardrock my farm and I’m Thorley Aethelred”

He extended a hand over the fence to her. Abby rushed forward to shake it.

“Abby, Whoa!” She lost balance going forward as he pulled her strongly up and over the post he was working on. “Um thanks?” She released his hand right away not liking that he’d pulled her into the farm without explanation. “Can I help you?” She asked, thinking about the dead man’s boot knife unfortunately also in her boot.

“Probably not. Can you kill a bear?” He laughed. Abby blinked, Thorley reached up to use the headband around his dark curly hair to whip sweat from his forehead. “Or bear proof a fence?” He gestured to the abandoned work.

Abby shook her head. “Thought not. I’ve seen a few more than usual lately. Don’t know how to keep the sheep safe see? Was hoping you might be a hunter, I could hire to clear out some of the damn things. If you were lost already, no sense in getting you even more turned around out there.” He said more to himself than her.

Abby’s eyes were drawn to the sweat stains where his shirt had clung to him, and the expanse of freckles she could see on his arms and torso, where his shirt was also split to allow for airflow.

It had been her great misfortune to be an avid dreamer for 30 years now. It had resulted in many days awake tired from her brain’s activity. She’d traveled impossible distances, run from the police and mastered flight while asleep. She’d seen a giant mechanical whale attacking a boat piloted by mice, nonsensical scenery like walls of musical instruments and jello or the forest phone. She’d even developed a real waking fear of Jack Black to her embarrassment. But she had never dreamt of sweat stains. Or sweat imprints as his body hair dampened the shirt in places it touched on his sides and back.

She realized he’d been speaking while she continued to take in the too real details of a body well used to farm work and sunshine.

“.... not that it matters. So where are you trying to get?”

“Oh, I’m headed to Kvatch. A friend of mine joined the temple there.” She didn’t know how long Martin had been a priest there but would Thorley even care? He most certainly did not because he was already turned back to the house motioning that she should follow.

“That’s nice, Brother Martin will get him settled in.” He remarked casually.

“Oh? Is he nice? Jay mentioned him in a letter”

Liar

Jay is vague enough why does it matter? Half of Kvatch is going to die anyway.

“He’s a fair main, bit boring”

Thorley was still talking but Abby wasn’t listening. What the actual hell was that? They were almost inside the cottage now and a raucous laughter was coming from inside. Thorley’s family seemed to be having a really good time inside without him while he worked.

But the occupants of the cottage were not laughing. One young figure, a girl about 13, looked half asleep in a book she was studying. The other, an older woman with black curly hair like Thorley, was pulling a thread stitching some brown article of clothing in her lap.

Abby’s hair stood up on the back of her neck a moment before following Thorley inside. Who was laughing?

*************************************************************************************************

Livet and Emma were delighted to have their work stopped in all honesty. Thorley perhaps was too as he didn't return to the fence outside after introducing her to his sister and niece. Instead the three set about making dinner early and chatting to Abby about all their lives worries. With how much they talked it was apparent they didn’t get many visitors.

Emma in particular was thrilled to show Abby her drawings and stack of books she’d already finished this year which were much better than the book on West Weald plants she had been studying. Abby smiled and enjoyed listening to her chatter.

“And when I’m 14 Momma says we can go to Kvatch for the New Life celebration! My name day is during New Life!” She beamed.

“Mine too!” Abby smiled. It sort of was, in Earth days. “I’m headed to Kvatch. I'll be sure to stop by on my way home and tell you all the best places.” Livet smiled thankfully over her daughter's eager beaming head. Abby felt a little bad because there likely would be no Kvatch by New Life but it was worth the girl's pleased reaction.

Dinner passed quickly despite her having to chew on one side of her face and soak all the contents of her plate in sauce or water discreetly. Thorley excused himself to attend to the nighttime routine for the farm. Given that he’d left a hole all afternoon in the fence she wasn’t really sure what that looked like but she wasn’t a farmer or the son of a farmer.

“Can you take a look at these for me Livet? You too Emma the expert you might know what they are better than I” She opened her bag and retrieved the three red bottles. The two women accepted the bottles with interest, not questioning why she might have potions that she didn't know what they were.

“Potion of Sorcery” Livet said decisively and exchanged the bottle with Emma to sniff.

“That's a health potion for sure Abby” Emma grinned. Livet still smelled it but she ended up agreeing.

The final bottle had both farmers scratching their heads in confusion.

“But why would someone make a burn paste and shove it into this bottle? It'll be miserable to get out!” Emma argued. Her mother shrugged and laughed.

“Why do Mad-Men come calling?” She replied, Emma seemed to accept this was valid but unfortunately it made no sense to Abby. She didn’t like it though she knew that, remembering the laughter that had been present too many days on this journey.

“Why do Mad-Men come calling?” Abby repeated the question. Livet had moved to stoke the fire and get the house ready for sleep.

“No one knows” Emma’s young voice and frankly creepy reply made Abby wish she had avoided the farm.

After Thorley came back and the entire cabin retired to sleep, Abby on her mat by the hearth. She calmed down realizing that she was working herself up over nothing. Sayings sometimes didn’t have any real meaning. And avoiding the farm would have meant staying lost. Thorley had agreed to look at her list of supplies she’d like to take with her tomorrow afternoon, if she helped him finish the fence. She needed anything he could part with for whatever awaited her at Kvatch.

************************

“And you’ll send any capable looking hunters or foresters this way for the bears?” Thorley confirmed AGAIN.

“Yes I will, first people I see I think can help. And I’ll let the fighters guild know too if I don’t meet anyone on the road” Abby wasn’t focused on the farmer but he’d repeated this at least three other times this morning.

Instead her eyes tracked Emma “stealthily” stuffing her botany book into Abby’s satchel by the table. Sneaky kid, She probably should have left the book so the kid didn’t eat the wrong mushroom and die or some shit but it was likely that Livet would realize soon enough anyway and Emma had two adults to make sure she didn’t eat the wrong thing. Abby had no one but herself and now this book. For one lonely corner of Cyrodiil.

“Travel safe Abby, come visit us on your way back north whenever that may be,” Livet gave her a short hug and pressed a folded cloth into her hands. Abby gripped it tightly, correctly thinking there were hidden supplies inside. Thorley had been incredibly reluctant to part with any hammers.

He could have just lied, not like I’d know a repair hammer from a nail hammer. But then how could he know she wasn’t from any place even remotely “north”.

He had given her a few days worth of dense biscuits. Another health potion, a small jar of honey-wax meant to protect her lips and skin from the sun, and another shirt. Livet had parted with two yards of light but well made fabric that was woven from the Shadrock sheep and a case with a needle in it. Handy if she knew how to sew. Fake it till you make it. Abby stashed it all in her bag except the health potion which was much smaller than the one from the body. She drank the smaller bottle when he wasn’t watching and stashed the empty bottle. Her tooth which wasn’t in pain exactly felt a cooling rush as magic did… it’s magic.

She was fighting that as proof it was real because magic may or may not be but the relief certainly was.

“Until next time Shadrockeans” She grinned. Emma laughed, Thorley looked halfway back to considering his bear problem already and Livet’s befuddled look would amuse Abby for at least another hour longer.

 

The road toward Kvatch and the east she’d be directed was slanted downward. Abby knew from her time playing Oblivion and the crude map she’d added Shadrock to that at the end of this road was the Anvil and the ocean. So downward made sense, but Kvatch was most certainly up a big ass hill if she remembered correctly. So it was a funnel to the sea and pretty impractical. Very dream, she considered. Or maybe it’s real. It is real and you were just looking in a small window. Tiny vision of this real world.

“So my options are, Catastrophic drug reaction or Todd Howard built a one way looking glass.” She didn’t want to know which was correct.

The road around her did turn upward toward the late afternoon. It was the last good sign of the day. The air took on a stale harsh smell. Hot and dry. The sound of her footsteps became clearer as her boots pressed into the dry ground and dirt scuffed around her feet.

The animals are gone. Not just animals, not even bugs. The wind seemed even to stop here. Abby didn’t like this at all. The sun before her was sinking quickly and she felt a little like she was chasing it.

She walked chasing the sun for another hour before it vanished and was replaced by a much brighter, more sinister red glow in the sky. She broke into a sprint eyes up. Rounding another twist she came to a sharp halt. Still some distance away, on a hill just like she’d thought, was Kvatch. She knew it was the right place because it was engulfed in fire red and orange ovals that cut across the landscape harshly.

Kvatch was under attack. And unlike the game where she’d arrived after the attack, it seemed she’d arrived the night the portals opened. They were opening RIGHT NOW!

“Oh Fuck”

 

Notes:

I am scared of Jack Black because of a nightmare about him and founding father Ben Franklin.

Chapter 3: City of Gates

Summary:

Abby arrives at Kvatch. Unprepared beyond belief and still planning to follow the game's main quests, she realizes that dream or real, it's not enough like her beloved game to keep her or anyone safe.

Kvatch was under attack. And unlike the game where she’d arrived after the attack, it seemed she’d arrived the night the portals opened. They were opening RIGHT NOW!

“Oh Fuck”

********************************************************

Despite the leagues between her and the city under siege, Abby felt like each breath she took now tasted thick with ash and sulfter. It had to be in her head because it was still pretty far off. If there was sound coming from the city, screams, magic portals, battle cries it was too far to be heard for her place on the Gold Road.

So running for the city would only wind her before she could be of any help. What help is one fucking asshole anyway? She struggled to fight the panic and helplessness. One person was better than none. And She remembered in the siege for the castle quest, 3 random foresters had appeared to offer aid. 3 woodsy assholes she’d reloaded 5 times to prevent dying. They might be around. Or someone might be around.

“Would be a good time to be fucking dragonborn.” She hissed, beginning to walk at a brisk pace toward the city. “Shouting” She hmmed. She could scream? If anyone heard in the woods they’d find her and maybe see the city? Her scream would also alert anything unfriendly in the surrounding area. But the bears that Thorley had been so concerned about would probably be smart enough to steer clear of the evil portals and fiery city.

Maybe if I’m a breton I can use magic to make it louder? It was a desperate silly thought. And if her body had looked remotely the same it would never have occurred to her. Abby’s Earth body, or awake self, or whatever was happening here, did not have magic. Fuck it.

“Akatosh, If you love your son, you’ll help me now damn it.” She’d need all the help she could get. He might take pity on her if she mentioned she was headed to get Martin. Hopefully he was listening and not just doing whatever the gods did when they ignored mortals.

Abby stopped walking and took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. Nothing she could register really felt like “magic”. She felt stiff from walking, hot from running up the hill. The vague urge to piss herself in fear. That’ll do. Focusing on the muscles inside her clenching to prevent her peeing she opened her mouth.

“HHEEEELLLPPPP!!! AHHHAHAHAAAAAAAAA”

Okay, holy fuck apparently Akatosh was awake tonight. She took another breath.

“HEEEELLLLLP!!”

Her voice was magnified 20 times louder than it ought to be. Any if anyone was within 2 miles around they had to have heard her. She sucked in another fat breath, light headed from pushing all the noise out.

“AAAAAAAAAAA”

She gave it one more wordless scream for good measure, body shaking with the effort of screaming bloody murder. It wasn’t a shout, because the dragonborn always had to wait, let their throat, or magic, recuperate or risk going the way of The Graybeards. She wasn’t sure if it was her or actually Martin’s patron but that was all she could do to contact any foresters in the area.

Sucking in a heaving breath she continued shakily forward. Any more breathing like that was sure to make her pass out and be even more useless than she felt. She continued walking.

“Hang on Kvatch.”

********************************

The foot of the hill to Kvatch was already starting to look like the tent city in game. People were bleeding and helping those bleeding more to safe places to collapse. There was lots of wailing. There were only 30 people seated or flitting about the base of the path. The path to the city was littered with people walking down, or collapsed on the way down. Several were still as the Dunmer obviously escaped but beyond help.

Abby's knowledge of first aid was terribly minimal and without a standard kitchen was fucking helpless here. Knowing she couldn’t help down here she began to battle her way up the zig zag path. People were shouting. As many as were fleeing or bleeding, an equal number was turned, weapons out guarding backward against the foes from the portals. This was a good number of survivors. More than in game. And way too many to stay in the makeshift outpost below. Perhaps many who healed would leave in the morning?

Or perhaps it wasn’t a fucking game after all. She didn’t want to consider it and continued up the path which had now turned to the opposite direction and was snaking up the steep hill. Who built this shit box?

General Aurelia Sabina

Not fucking helpful. She finally reached the top as the majority of the gates blinked out of existence. The city guard, bringing up the rear of the retreating citizens, were also battling the last remaining daedra. The ringing of Churl swords and maces clattering against the guards' weaponry drew her attention to the last of the fighting.

Abby had zero combat training so it was probably stupid to rush into a fight but she still pulled out her dagger and stepped forward to help. Thankfully, for the safety of all parties, the last Churl was pierced suddenly by an arrow and dropped to the ground. The guard who’d loosed the arrow was propped on a fence post face bleeding. He looked like he’d been deposited there by a comrade and abandoned.

“Barracade those fucking doors.” He bellowed. Obviously he was in charge. Abby moved toward him. “Move down hill civilian” He glowered at her. And maybe if he wasn’t sticky with sweat and blood and in his PJs under the formerly white wolf stamped Kvatch tabard she might have listened.

“I’m looking for Martin,” she interrupted. Surprisingly his eyes snapped to her more focused than they had been mere moments ago watching his men pull beams into rickety palisades.

“You’re the woman.” He said in surprise.

“I’m a woman yea, Damn how hard did you hit your head?” She cringed scanning his hairline where the blood was likely leaking from.

“Yea you are,” he laughed darkly. “Fucking screaming your head off woke up half the city.”

“Oh shit, were you asleep?” Abby didn’t realize they could hear her. I mean good the louder the more likely we are to get help. Real help. “I saw the glow from the road, maybe two miles back? I didn’t know what else to do. I thought maybe someone might look for me and see the city..” How to explain the best plan she had was to behave like a helpless damsel when she was likely going to have to persuade him to let her in the city to rescue Martin?

“It was a damn good plan. Juliannos smiled at us today. Your voice woke everyone in the barracks. We would have been much worse off if you’d waited even a moment.” His eyes returned to the men working behind us. “Thank you traveller, you saved Kvatch.” goosebumps broke out across her arms at his low words. He adjusted on the fence and swiped his hand across his forehead. He pushed a good bit of blood and dirt into his short hair but was likely going to be grimey for a good long while until this situation was resolved. When his arm moved a waft of sweaty smell chased after her. “Whoever you’re looking for is a lucky son of a bitch.” He said grimly.

“I’m here for Brother Martin.” His brown eyes turned back to her fully and a sorrow settled easily on to the lines on his face. It was a grim face he’d probably had many times before when telling someone their loved one on guard duty wasn’t coming back.

“I’m so sorry.” and he pointed behind her. Abby turned confused. Yea a gate was between them, but he was safe in the….

But he wasn’t safe in the chapel.

Because the gate she’d expected to see some yards away in front of Kvatch’s doors was even further away, splitting open the tallest tower in the city. The Temple of Akatash was split open by the great orange monstrosity pulsing like living flames in the narthex of the Dragon God’s home.

Martin Septim, Tamriel’s last hope, if he was alive at all, was through the gate. Inside the heart of Oblivion, the foremost incursion of Dagon into Cyridiil, and right under Dagon’s nose.

Abby took in the gate for a moment before turning from the guard and losing her road snacks. The tears wouldn’t stop clouding her vision of the ground under her feet. This was just too much. The smell of blood and bodies and flame. The fear she’d been carrying since cresting the hill. Since waking up practically. She wasn’t even meant to be here but she’d been willing to try for Martin. And now he was probably dead. The Chapel not being touched had been a miracle the first time, so it wasn’t surprising. Or it shouldn’t have been. But… fuck.

“There’s nothing we can do now. Say a prayer to Akatosh for him and let’s head back down the hill. Maybe those reinforcements you stirred up are on the way,” He had stood while she wasn’t looking and his large tan hand grasped her shoulder pulling her away from the sick.

Say a prayer to Akatosh for him, but she’d already called on Akatosh today for help. Maybe her request had distracted him from protecting Martin? Was he really the all powerful god if one little miracle killed his son? Abby let the guard lead her away half supporting him, half being guided.

They stopped at a sideways barrel and he dropped to sit.

“Captian Savlian, we’ve blocked the gate and biggest hole in the wall with the materials not on fire” Another sun browned guard reported setting up a small table, that was likely a stool, before Savlian and putting a brown glass bottle atop it. “Don’t have any water, but take a sip of this to keep the pain down.” He ordered his captain. Savlain took a deep dreg rather than reply.

Abby felt as if she couldn’t take her eyes away from the remaining corner of the steeple and the orange glow. What was she meant to do now?

“... we’ll get men started putting out the fires and then send off the civilians." The younger man’s voice pulled her back to Savlian and the not dead people with her.

“Don’t put them out.” Both men looked at her, How long had she been silent? “Keep them lit. drag them somewhere they won’t catch but you can use them to burn the bodies. More smoke might get the legions assistance.”

“We can’t burn them, some of them have families!” Abby noticed the guard was even younger than she’d estimated. “We’ll pile them and wait for people to collect them.”

“The longer you leave them the more likely disease is to spread. Where’s Kvatch’s water come from?” She asked Savlian.

“A river runs under the ground. We have wells in the city to pull it up. It runs from the mountains and ends at the sea.”

“Putting these bodies in the ground all at once sounds like a good way to make all your survivors sick. Pile them tonight, check for survivors. Tell the people to come help in the morning and any can claim their dead if they object to burning trust me it’s safer”

Neither man moved, exchanging looks.

“Or do what you want, what do I fucking know” She snapped and stood suddenly. If they wouldn’t listen then there was nothing she could do here. She could sneak around the back of the city and make sure it kept burning herself. Maybe tunnel out the Count, since this wasn’t anything like the game. Maybe at least he was safe.

“No you’re right. Sorry. Maybe we should wait for everything until morning, See if anyone shows up to your shouts. Salvage what we can.” Savlian shook his head a little as if to wake up. “Once that gate closes we can go in and rebuild our lives.” Abby’s eyes turned north again.

It wouldn’t close. Not on its own. Not ever without the dead adventurer in the forest. Gods blood she was tired.

“You should rest too, I’ve no idea how far you traveled before you climbed the hill.”

“I set out this morning from Shardrock farm,” she admitted. “And after all that fucking screaming I jogged about two miles.” Both men looked shocked.

“Rest, I’ve have to take stock of my men, get some fucking boots maybe. Then I’ll join you.”

If Martin was dead, there was no point rushing this anyway. She nodded and unrolled her mat behind the barrel they were sitting on. One more sleep and if she woke up here again she’d figure out what to do next. She was half asleep as she stretched out on the roll. Magic takes a fuckin toll.

You have no idea, little mortal

Notes:

We're getting to the action I swear, just bear with me.

Also is Abby using Magic, Is Akatosh really a homie? or is it the Mad-God helping her bizarre plans?

 

I'm well into the next chapter so hopefully that'll be up soon. :D

Chapter 4: Stoop of the Deadlands

Summary:

Abby makes resolved to go into the gate. Martin or no Martin, the people need it closed.

Waking up once again in Oblivion gave Abby a dreadfully sour stomach. The feeling was both hunger and anxiety. She sat up and sipped water from her pack, knowing that she’s never been good at eating after waking up and the tumultuous turning of her innards had her hesitant to eat lest she really really need to shit at an inopportune moment.

Human bodies are gross, thought the groggy woman.

But they’re so much fun to squish!

Abby grimaced and turned to see on a bedroll beside her in his tabard and the promised boots was Savlian, snoozing fretfully. He wasn’t an old man by any standard but he looked very young in his sleep, even with the occasional twitch he made. Savlian had probably been a lady killer before the guards. She smiled softly. So real.

“I don’t think it’s going to close.” A voice drew her attention toward two guards a few yards from them.

“It’s been a full day. I don’t know what to make of it but if those foresters don’t bring back the legion we might be doomed.” The shorter guard facing the smoldering city agreed. Foresters? Had it worked?! Carefully so as not to disturb her strange bedfellow she scooted down her roll and to her feet.

“Foresters?” She called clearing her throat which was tight with sleep, disuse, overuse maybe? And ash. Both men turned to face her better. The shorter of the two was an imperial in his late 30s with blond, gray hair. His counterpart is a tall scrawny nord. He was gangly in the way many teenage boys are right before growing. Abby couldn’t imagine him any taller but he seemed young enough he might still shoot up again unexpectedly.

“Aye,” The Nords voice was young too, not settled in the depth of adulthood or the height of youth anymore. “They heard your screams. Kyne blessed you that night.” He looked a little reverent and Abby wanted to laugh. She’d only panicked and screamed bloody murder. But someone, or something had helped her voice carry. Kyne’s blessing eh? She laughed. She’d been thinking about shouting so maybe it was her.

“They arrived not long after you slept. The battlemage stayed down below to help with injured and the other two ride to the garrison at Fort Vlastarus.” The Imperial inclined his head to her as well. “The Gods did not abandon us that night.” He agrees.

“Captin went to rest not too long ago, gates not moved and neither had you.” He continued. “Was worried you’d shouted yourself up, maybe injured inside by the magic.” Abby didn’t like that idea at all. “Had the forester see to you first but he just said you're tired and need to eat more.” He smiled at that, so did the Nord. Abby wondered if that wasn’t a saying magic doctors all told you. The way dentists all nagged you to floss no matter how well you brushed.

“Stop by the camp on your way back home if you need anything. Matius told us you were here for the priest Martin.” Abby’s gut sunk low again making her feel uncomfortable and sad. “Nothing to do now but pray for him.” He nodded at both the younger man and Abby and set off in one direction, resuming a patrol possibly?

The Nord turned his blue eyes to her, not seemingly inclined to return to whatever task he was on prior to her waking.

“You don’t seem like the others who visited looking for Martin.” Abby’s eyes locked with his.

“What kind of others? When did you last see them?” This boy clearly didn’t think her a threat because he smirked and crossed his arms.

“Didn’t think your kind got jealous. Don’t worry your precious priest turned them away. But I’m always happy to make an offering with you.”

Your kind? What the hell was this kid on about? Dealing with this never ending nightmare, the potential ending of the world and sleeping on the ground left her more irritable than usual. Not to mention there was no caffeine she’d found in this place.

“Get to the point or get back to whatever you're meant to be doing.”

“I’m happy enough to help you with your Prince. That sky-caller had nothing on me” he leered. Understanding bloomed in Abby. He didn’t mean Prince like Martin son of Uriel, which how would he know that? Others were looking for Martin that he turned away.

“That’s disgusting you're a child. Don’t you have to a bedtime or something. Fuckin’ gross” She spat taking a half step back. Whatever he might have replied was cut off by a third person joining their conversation.

“He does. Piss off to the body pile Klein. Don’t wanna see you again today.” Savlian was up. Hopefully not woken by their discussion.

“As you say sir.” and Klein was gone shooting her one last covetous look. Abby was red with anger but hoped Savlian couldn’t tell her rising blood vs the slight red everything this close to the city and fires had.

“I don’t care who you worship as long as it’s not hurting anyone.” Savlian held up a hand when she made to interrupt. “Don’t explain anything to me I do NOT want to know.” He shook his head with a small smile.

“What if I worshiped Namira?” She asked curiously. He gave a short laugh.

“You probably would have had a different perspective on body disposal than fire. Unless you meant fire roasted, in which case I misunderstood and have been building the world's largest cooking spit.” Abby couldn’t help but laugh with him. He probably wouldn’t have been joking about it had he not had such a shocking 48 hours. He didn’t seem like the type to joke about anything in his pjs and boots.

“Which way are you headed when you leave? Would you take a missive to the count of that city? Kvatch is going to need help for years after this. If there ever is an after.” His eyes trailed up to the gate as he spoke. Abby couldn’t tell if he was looking at the gate or the chapel it split open. Was he thinking about his life attending service there, maybe guarding the battements? He seemed to know Martin had frequent callers of a daedric worshiping nature. Were they close?

“I’m not.” He turned his head to her again, expression questioning. “Not leaving. I don’t think this will go away until someone goes in and closes the door from their side.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. The other doors all opened and closed from their end. Might get some men together to go in.” He looked tired. “How do you ask for volunteers to march to their death?” In contrast to when she woke he looked much older now.

“I’ll go.” He scoffed. “I’m serious. I came here for Martin. The least I can do is avenge him since I never made it to his side.” There was more to it of course but he didn’t know. Not about Martin, Dagon or her Earth life.

“You’ve no one waiting for you?” He searched her face. Abby thought for a moment, she was sure she did. She was never lonely. But it was hard to think right now. And all her someones were back in Florida.

“Only Martin, waiting on the other side.” She nodded at the orange terror. “But I’m not going to die.” His face morphed into shock at her bold declaration. “Or at least I’m going to try not to. I want to visit that battlemage, see if he knows any illusion, or restoration.”

Savlian let out a shaky breath in disbelief.

“Don’t know any restoration.” He said and clenched his fist. A soft white light no bigger than a pencil darted from his hand to her feet, arriving and racing back. “I’ve been wondering why this damn thing keeps chasing you. Maybe you will live.”

And that was enough to give her hope.

**********************************

She didn’t enter the gate until nightfall. Talking Captain Savlian out of sending her with a group of men had taken half the day. Mastering the three spells she thought most important had taken the rest.

Imagine her surprise when the battlemage, a broad shouldered woman called Jenny, had cackled when Abby had described her one time using magic as holding in piss.

“That’s probably your magical core. First you have to find it and then the more you use it, explore schools of magic the easier it will be to grab. You’ll be less likely to wet yourself.” She’d smiled and described how clenching was a physical act to help young mages harness their magic.

“You should consider the mages guild!” Jenny had grinned after Abby had mastered the minor wound spell and the frost spell. “I miss it sometimes, might teach when I leave the legion” She said shyly. Abby was grateful beyond words.

“I’ll be your first acolyte!” She promised with a smile. Jenny’s eyes dimmed as she looked up the hill to the red sky.

“I hope you will be.”

And Savlian had talked her through the clairvoyance spell after her training. He’d learned when he was young orphaned and suddenly the oldest of 7 siblings. That many mouths to feed he couldn’t waste time tracking deer. He’d joined the guard as soon as he turned 18 to keep money coming in.

“I have siblings.” It left Abby’s mouth before she could stop herself. “But I can’t remember them right now.” Savlian looked moments from arresting her to keep her from this mad quest. “It’s fine,” She glared at him. “Trust me, yea?”

“Can’t say why, but I do.” He said ruefully. Abby felt like an imposter, the person he needed was dead in the forest. The person he trusted at right sight. Maybe his spell was chasing the journal?

“Do you have a pen? I want to write something and then be on my way.” He gave her a look like she was an idiot and bent down to pick up a rock and toss it at her. She caught it clumsily and flushed. Right charcoal.

“That works.” She muttered and returned to their command barrels. Opening the journal atop the barrel that held his maps she took the rock and carefully wrote”

Kvatch City, 2 days after invasion.

This rock is shite. I’m outside the gate at Kvatch about to go in. Martin is dead. The city is lost and all survivors might be if we don’t get the gates closed. I’m sorry I failed the real Hero of Kvatch. But I won’t give up, until some other idiot finds my dead body and robs me naked. I know the clairvoyance spell, the frost spell, and a minor wounds healing spell. Hopefully that’ll get me by.. Captain Savlian needs a win and his spell thinks I can still do this. It’s just a level one gate.. Martin watch over us.

Abby

Chapter 5: The Valley of Death

Summary:

Abby's finally in that Gods damned gate.

Notes:

Once again only edited by me who is bad at reading and writing. So sorry

As soon as she shoved through the trembling fiery portal she fell several feet straight down. Mercifully, nothing and no one were nearby. Getting scalped by a scamp two feet into the Deadlands would have been embarrassing, even with no one to watch. Muffled laughter carried to her on the wind, reminding her someone was watching.

The heat reached for her in a way that Florida weather never did. Heat at home was lazy, content to cling to exposed skin with blankets of damp humidity, and draw the sweat and heat to the rest of your body slowly. This heat was instantly between her toes, racing across the back of her knees, making her hands sweat. Hot, dry and stinky. Like eggs.

Looking back at the entrance she’d fallen from, the breathing she thought she’d seen was much more visible. The portal flexed slightly and magic traveled down it in waves. It reminded her of a waterfall, or blood magic fall rather.

It was too steep for her to exit but luckily that wasn’t her way out of here anyways. Savlian and the men, lecherous Klein included, had escorted her in, killing the few lingering scamps and clannfear outside the gate. Savlain let her know that he’d be sending men in three days if she didn’t return. She liked to think he expected her back before then, but she’d also heard that’s when reinforcements from the legion were likely to arrive. And he could spare the men to die.

“Not going to be a problem.” She muttered and pulled the dagger from her boot out. Her fist clenched and she tightened all her muscles ready for the guiding light. It pleased her to no end to see it dart away from her immediately to the right.

Abby’s eyes rose to the tower situation. The sigil stones were always at the top of the tallest tower, the one before her. But this gate had a key, and a caged man, to help the Hero know what to do. She’d be better served trying to find the key than use her plan b or c to climb the tower to the top.

She tightened her sweaty fist and followed the light alert for any potential enemies now she was in actual fire hell.

It took her exactly 5 minutes before she had to dive behind a rock and hide. Ahead, on the bridge her diligent little light was trying to make her cross, was a shrimpy clannfear. It had a head like a dinosaur but reminded her strongly of a scrawny mangey dog, with the way it was bent nosing something smelly, looking for food.

From behind her rock she crouched nothing but her eyes moving. Can’t risk it being a baby and not just tiny. But no mother or siblings moved to join it. It really was alone, a runt. She could just sneak by?

She had no real training in sneaking, aside from some cheating at card games. And it would leave enemies at her back. She would have to kill something to get out of here!

The decision was taken from her hands as the wind changed abruptly, and the scaly little bastard raised his head sniffing deeply.

“Ah fuck” she whispered. Adjusting her grip on the knife. It was going to locate her soon and her best bet was to wait for it to charge and use its own momentum to stab it. And that was a grand plan, except when he did find her, and change as expected. She fumbled her knife and dropped it as he reached her.

Abby reeled back avoiding the small but dangerous beak mouth. She kicked at its side and it yelped a bit as it was shoved to the side, off balance. She scrambled to get her knife out of the dirt desperately wishing her hands to be steady. He righted himself and changed again. He reached her right as her left hand grasped the knife. She held on for dear life and shoved both arms upward, uppercutting the clannfear like she was serving a volleyball. The knife glanced off the soft underscales of his neck. Panicking and hoping to keep her momentum from the shove she lunged after it clambering on top of it and bringing both hands down on the dagger forcefully.

Unfortunately the daedra had turned to snap at her at just the right moment wiggling out from her unbalanced legs. Her knife was driven forcefully into the spiky parts on his skull plate near its eye. This was all bone, judging by the jarring halt her knife made. It didn’t matter. To hesitate was to die. She drew back her right hand, the slightly more coordinated one, and slammed it into the eye socket. Her left hand pushing his dangerous snout away.

The pain was instant for the both of them as the strong protective spikes on his face did their best to stop her from hurting him, and her sloppily formed first nicked the exposed dagger blade. But she couldn’t stop. Stopping meant dying. And it was clearly hurting him because he was shrieking up a storm, eye bloodied yellow.

“Shut up” She hissed and punched once more time directly in his bleeding eye. His scaly shield-like head dropped and his body heaved for air. Fatigued? It was very reminiscent of the first fighting animation of Morrowind and Oblivion. Not willing to find out, she wrenched the knife from his horn and brought it down again though the eye socket and hopefully into its brain. “Just die!” She begged as it splashed yellow mush and black blood everywhere.

The clannfear did as she begged and fell completely still after the dagger thrust. Thank fuck it’s brain really was in there.

She sank to the ground beside it. Her first kill. And she’d punched it. A terrible thought welled up in her mind.

“Oh no.”

Oh yes, little mortal

It was a joke. Her favorite way to play the Elder Scrolls. Punching dragons had been a laugh. Occasionally, she’d shoot a target from afar, especially on the low levels to get in damage before they reached her bruised knuckles but always she’d completed the 3 games she’d played punching away her problems.

And now she wasn’t just clumsy with that dagger, she was cursed.

“Minor skill indeed” She rolled her eyes and began closing up the wounds on her hands. She’d been wearing the bracers that extended to cover the back of her hand, and a curious scar that would be on her awake body but not this new hotter mountain climbing one, but they stopped at her knuckles. She’d figured that would be easier for casting and keeping a grip on the dagger.

Ass-u-me

“Fuck”

Before moving on she wrestled a single leather glove out of her pack. It’s twin was likely in the satchel under the hammer or something equally inconvenient. This was the right one and consequently the right one. She rolled her eyes at her stupid joke. One glove for her punching hand, just in case she really was a pugilist. One hand uncovered so she could cast spells. Theoretically she could do it through the glove but she’d been casting intentionally for all of one day, best not to push herself.

She turned back to the corpse beside her. He really was no bigger than a labrador. With a fucking wakeboard for a face. A clannfear head shield would be sick as hell if she ever had to do this again.

“Right okay I am insane” She muttered to herself. This was going to be a problem again if she didn’t do something. It had smelled her. “Oh god this is gross.”

She dragged the body to the rock she’d been hiding behind for cover and dirt. She could mix his blood with the dirt and make a paste. Mud mask of the worst degree. She ended up having to make a cut down his belly to have a good amount of blood leak out and mix with the dirt. She stirred the dirt with her knife and pinched her mouth closed desperately. Fuck that smelled bad. When she had a decent amount of muck she reached her ungloved hand out and grabbed a handful.

“Neck, pits, legs?” She guessed thinking of the smelliest part of humans. Of the three only her neck was exposed so thank fuck she’d be spared from most of the nasty. But only most. Her neck felt grotesque under the gritty ick.

After she’d put it on like some fucked up Deadlands Old Spice she made a small frost spike in her dirty hand. She let out a huge sigh of relief as the heat of the area began to instantly melt it into water. Perfect! She’d been hesitant to try it when she got in here. If it hadn’t worked she couldn't have said definitively that she wouldn’t have just scurried up and dived out of the portal again to the safety of Savlian and his men.

The water was good. But she needed to save her magic, whatever pitiful reserves she had as a level 0 human, for clairvoyance. She gave the clannfear one last kick with her boot and set off again following her slim guild deeper into Dagon’s home.

****************************************************

After an hour of walking, Abby had moved sufficiently far in that she could see the key tower attached to the backside of sigil tower, in the distance. She’d also successfully hidden from three more significantly larger clannfears. She had hoped the blood and dirt would just blend into the background of native smells but it became clear with the way they moved away from her that she likely smelled like a graveyard of clannfear.

Sick band name. She had also felt more and more panicked in her internal monologue trying to keep calm and battle the creeping fear she felt. This is all a sick dream so it’s fine.

“I’m going to pull that stone and wake up in Florida.” She vowed, checking over her shoulder for enemies. None appeared. It was going smoothly until a fork in the road. Her spell darted to the left toward the sea of lava and somehow away from the towers she had been circling.

“What are you doing? The tower is that way.” Instantly the light pulsed toward the sea unbothered by her confusion. Was it mad? Yea walking the wrong way was mad. But Savlian’s light had chased her around the camp, not the gate, his obvious next step in saving the city. Nor toward the count, still locked in his palace allegedly. So maybe this wasn’t what she obviously needed, but if he trusted the light she should too.

“Okay you win, but if I get fried like gristle I’ll be terribly cross with you.” She took a step left and let the light guide her. “Dramatic internal monologue” She smiled.

The lava waves seemed impossibly large in the distant expanse of Deadlands. She couldn’t hear the roar of those waves but imagined they, like waves at home, made a sound when crashing. She was about twenty feet from the lake of fire when a whistle cut across the air.

Her head turned quickly. That was no dremora. Did Dremora have lips? Could they whistle? A brief thought of a Kynreave doing Billy Joel songs entered and was banished from her mind like a pesky fly.

Because it was not a dremora, Kynreave or otherwise. It was a filthy brunette head, hair blowing in the dragon’s breath that passed for a breeze around here, poking out from behind a boulder. His eyes were wide with surprise, equally as shocked as hers she imagined. Because hiding behind the debris was Martin Septim, alive and for unknown reasons, shirtless.

Nice

Nice

Notes:

I always play hand to hand. Love punching stuff very cathartic 20/10 but probably not for actual fighting demons and dinosaurs.

Chapter 6: Forward

Summary:

Martin and survivors. Abby has to readjust her plan from suicide mission in honor of the homies to all out rescue mission.

Because it was not a dremora, Kynreave or otherwise. It was a filthy brunette head, hair blowing in the dragon’s breath that passed for a breeze around here, poking out from behind a boulder. His eyes were wide with surprise, equally as shocked as hers she imagined. Because hiding behind the debris was Marin Septim, alive and for unknown reasons, shirtless.

Nice

Nice

Why Martin was shirtless became apparent when Abby scrambled over the rocks toward him. Behind him and the rock were other people. Oh fuckkk. There were 6 others besides Martin. Four men, an altermer woman and a fucking kid.

“Oh hey guys.” She was a fucking idiot. Thank God everyone looked equally shocked to see her. “I’m Abby. I came to close the gate.” She gestured with her thumb at the tower behind her. Furious whispers broke out all at once. Martin stepped back to give her room to move behind their rock covered from the path’s gaze.

“You came here on purpose?” The lone redguard of the group asked. He was covered in ash and grime and the filth gave him a pallor that reminded her of the dumner’s body. She shuddered but nodded. “Great, one woman to save us.” He sank to the ground looking upset.

“I didn’t come to save you.” The others made sounds of distress. “I didn’t know you were in here at all. I came to avenge Martin.” She gestured at the half naked priest. “Who doesn’t need it apparently.” She gave him a small smile. His blue eyes watched her with interest. “I have a plan to close the gate.”

Abby realized they must have been taken by surprise when they arrived. Martin’s robes were quickly spotted as various bandages and a tattered green shirt for the altmer woman. They looked rough. Abby shrugged off her pack and opened the flap.

“Anyone hurt?” that started them talking all at once.

The redguard was called Athos and he all but shoved the dry biscuit into his mouth greedily as soon as it left Abby’s fingers. Lawrence, Neth and Garren all had various cuts and sprains wrapped in scraps of Martin’s robes. Abby couldn’t do too much for any of them but doled out a sip of the health potion she had already opened for her tooth. They relaxed and were looking at her thankfully. Abby shoved a spare shirt at Martin and her smallest dagger. There was no way his shoulders would fit into that thing with the sleeves still on. He took both without question and got to work.

Cyrille the woman took the biscuit for her and the boy called Lucus. Abby noticed she only ate half, probably intending to share more with the young man when he finished. Abby gave her a look but said nothing. She was an adult and she could make her own choices.

Everyone happily fed, munching or healing she closed her bag and stepped back.

“Okay so you can try and sneak back, but I passed clannfear and the gate is off the ground some 10 feet. You might be able to help each other out.” She said thinking. “My way out is up the rear tower, across that death bridge, to the tall tower.”

“How are you so sure it will work?” Lawrence, the oldest of the group, asked curiously. How to say, I’ve done it before in a game? She grimaced and he seemed to understand it was her best guess.

“I know it will work,” Martin said suddenly. All eyes turned to him, now clad in his pants and a sleeveless tunic. The too small shirt made him look even wider but at least he was somewhat covered from danger, the bright sky. Whatever bullshit comes from Oblivion. “I’ve been praying, you all know. My only reply has been the tower.” His voice was so soft but still clear despite all the ambient lava noises. She would have loved to hear him monologue or give a sermon. Well not actually, she hadn’t been religious or in the mood to worship in many many years.

They must have believed him because she didn’t get any more questions. Or they were exhausted and hopeless. That was a very strong possibility as she hadn’t even heard Lucus speak a word. And in her experience children were very chatty.

“You can wait here and I can keep on. We can go together, or you can try to make it back to the gate. There’s no wrong answer. I’ll be going on no matter what.” They didn’t speak. “Did you come here with anything? What do you all do?” she asked curiosity at these unknown “NCPs” and wondered if they went with her what skills she might utilize.

Lawrence didn't work anymore but had been a banker. Garren and Neth were brothers and made wine. Cyrille was a mother. Abby had a stab of fear for her child, as Lucus was no mer. She didn’t say anything else and Abby didn’t dare push. Athos was a blacksmith.

“Mostly farm equipment” He admitted with a grimace. Not totally useless. “And obviously Martin’s a priest.” Athos tossed his head at the future emperor. Gods this is stupid.

“Okay so before we go anywhere….”

Abby spent the next half hour making sure they could all cast clayrvoice. Only Garren and Cyrille could cast heal minor wounds but even Lucus as able to summon the thin shooting light. He beamed when it erupted like a firework from the air before him and raced to her feet.

“Woah ArchMage Lucus!” She said in surprise with an exaggerated step back. Lucus giggled and the others smiled wryly. For a moment not worried about the hell they were trapped in.

“Only cast when you need to. There isn’t time to rest properly and restore energy. “ The grim vibe returned and she grimaced. “Okay I have with me, 3 daggers and a hammer, if you think you’d be able to do damage with it Athos?” The smith gave a feral smile in reply. “Perfect. I think we should find a clannfear, make some more camouflage, and make our way to the rear tower.”

She had told them how the gorey goop was warding off the lower dremora.

“Have you seen any other daedra since you arrived?” They all shook their heads looking at one another to confirm.

“Not since, Kvatch.” Cyrille confirmed her tone confirming Abby’s fear that she didn’t want to know. Abby hmmed sympathetically but didn’t want to linger on it.

“Then I think we have a real shot. Before we go, we should have some water, then call upon your gods or Princes.” Eyebrows raised at her. “Don’t be foolish, if you have Stendar’s favor, call on it. I’ll sacrifice goats monthly to Malacath if he saves our asses today. No time to be stingy.” She directed this at Martin. He looked surprised but she turned her face away not wanting to single him out.

“Garren and I used to be altar boys for the temple of Zenithar.” Neth chuckled. Garren made a face remembering something unpleasant about that time and the others chuckled at his expense.

“Time to call him to you then as a favor. We’ll be putting in enough hard work and team work to satisfy him hopefully.” She said bemused.

The only other hitch in packing up the survivors was passing out her weapons. First they wanted to argue about who gets one.

“Why shouldn’t Neth and I both have them?” Garren argued frowning at Cyrille who had reached out for a weapon. Abby rolled her eyes.

“Just stick together. All of you partner up yea? Lucus and Cyrille get one, Athos and Lawrence and You and Neth. Don’t you trust your brother to guard your back? Besides, as soon as we find something else to wield you can take that!” She had to roll her eyes. He looked ready to argue again. “Why shouldn’t Cyrille have one? Give me an answer right now that you’ll defend before Zenithar and your mother, ey?” She stepped toward him accusatorily. “She’s got just as much a right to live, and fight to live as you. She’s survived this long. You all have! Kvatch’s best!! Fighters to the last.” She nodded at the elf and Lucus who was listening intently.

“We’ve only been here for 7 hours!” He argued back, rolling his eyes. Abby blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“Only a few hours, no more than a night, hard to know because of the blasted sky.” He looked annoyed as if he was telling them something obvious.

“Garren, it’s been 2 days since Kvatch.” She shoved her hand into her pack again, digging out the journal and handing it to Lawrence, paged to her last entry. “Read it.”

Lawrence turned to the book looking shocked:

“Kvatch City 2 days after the invasion. This rock is shite. I’m outside the gate at Kvatch about to go in. Martin is dead….”

Abby turned to look at the priest at this. Wondering if he thought it was insane. There’s no way he’s going to believe everything she has to tell him. And if she was going to tell anyone it’d be him. He might not understand the “other world I know all about your life” but surely the maddening laughter. Martin would understand. He was listening but studying her. He probably thought she was a Sanguinite stalker. Fuck.

“Captain Savlian needs a win and his spell thinks I can still do this. It’s just a level one gate.. Martin watch over us.” Lawrence finished and the book fell to his lap.

“Fuck so they really didn’t send you to rescue us.” Athos said crease strengthening in his forehead.

“No, I had no idea you were here. I just followed the light.” She said softly, holding her hand out for the book. It returned to her pack. Her fingers brushed something thin and wooden when she reached in and curiously she grasped it pulling it up. It must have been bundled in the supplies Livet gave her. But why???

It was a paint brush.

Tucking it up her sleeve Abby held out the medium knife to Cyrille. Who quickly accepted it with a nod. Garren didn’t argue anymore and they stood in silence.

“Hey it’s weird but I’ll take it, means you're not as tired as you could be, yeah?” She said encouragingly. “Also means Savlian might send in some men to act as distractions soon, if time passes differently. Betters our odds.” She shrugged. “Let’s get blessed up and head out.” They looked surprised she really meant it but Abby turned to scan the seas and leave them a moment to pray or entreat their god..

Not going to call on me?

I don’t know you

Little liar. The voice crooned. Thankfully they were done, and Abby didn’t have to think about who/what she suspected the unsettling commentary was. A problem for later her, if there was a later her.

“Lead the way Hero of Kvatch.” Athos teased. The hair on Abby’s neck rose despite the heat. Athos was looking at Martin. She relaxed ah, her journal entry. Martin nodded to her and they stepped forward together leaving their hiding place.

They followed the path back to the fork that had led Abby here in silence. At the fork she fired off the spell just to be sure and after circling around Martin’s feet it shot down the path she’d expected.

“You know me.” He broke the silence. He hadn’t turned to look at her, still scanning for danger. He also wasn’t asking. “I won’t ask you to explain. I do wonder how you invaded my dreams however.” He murmured this part in a low dangerous tone. Holy shit.

“Wasn’t me.” She said breathlessly trying to ignore her body’s reaction to him.

“You are unmistakable.” okay was he trying to end her? “You will answer me when we’re free.”

“When, that’s the spirit.” She smiled grimly.

**************

They found a clannfear, or rather it found them, outside the base of the tower. Thankfully it was alone, despite it being bigger than the one she’d taken down. So the brothers, Athos and Abby were able to handle it. Abby had given her dagger to Martin, resigned that hand to hand was going to work better for her. Luckily all she’d had to do was look big and kick at the dremora before Athos’s hammer drove it into the dirt and the brothers dived after it.

Lucus was the most hesitant to put the blood mud on him but was finally convinced by Abby encouraging him to give his spell a try and see if he really needed to or not. Thankfully it did guide him right to the mud.

How does the spell even know? She wondered curiously. The fact it was considered an Illusion crossed her mind for a moment but she banished it quickly. If she talked herself out of believing in it, or that it was all make believe, she worried it might not work for her. While “up is good” is a good start for Oblivion portal adventures leading 7 humans (mer) made her hesitant to treat this lightly.

It didn’t feel like a game, she thought, shoving her fingers into the center crease of the door beside Lawrence and straining to pull the door open. The soft supple door under her fingers, nor the heat, nor the strain on her body gave her brain “game” signals. No, everything pointed to disturbingly real.

They entered the lowest level of the short tower without incident after prying it open. How had the real Hero opened these damn things alone? There was an incline to the right of the entrance thankfully and not a death elevator like the game.

“Eyes open.” She advised moving to the center of the room and peering up. The ceiling was red. Because everything was fucking red here. But she didn’t see a cage like she expected. So it was likely a platform before the cage level.

Unless it wasn’t anything like the game and she was going to get them all killed. Icy fear tried its best to invade her. But ignoring her problems, specifically emotions, was a long honed skill. She huffed amused at herself.

“Something to share?” Garren seemed annoyed still he had been passed over for a weapon.

“Yea, good day to be emotionally unavailable or I’d have never made it past the gate.” He had no reply. Good, remember she came here to help. She wasn’t in her jammies in actual hell. “Just like my dad taught me,” she sniggered. “Listen it’s a stressful day, let me handle my shit however doesn’t get us killed.” She shrugged.

Cyrille and Athos nodded sympathetically and Lawrence gave a wry knowing smile. Good to know dads everywhere were all crummy.

After their conversation and brief rest they all looked at her. They were letting her guide them out of the bowels of Hell. No matter how much Garren argued or Martin was cautious of her, they still trusted her with this. It made her shake a little with nerves. But in another life I was the Hero of Kvatch, so what’s so different about pretending here? She wasn’t shirtless in a Lazyboy for one. Abby grinned widely at them. Fake it till we make it.

“Let’s climb.”

Chapter 7: The Tower's Top part 1

Notes:

There's general unpleasant Oblivion things here.

Abby should have realized that even on a climb as simple as the video game depicted something was likely to go wrong. The first thing that happened was on the second landing.

Abby, who’d been leading, saw it first, and screeched to a halt. Martin at her side swore softly.

“Cover Lucus’s eyes.” She called back. Rather than over the center chasm like she’d been anticipating, over the landing suspended by their ankles was the burning body of a young woman. Abby’s stomach churned looking at her. The yellow and blue flames flickering over her corpse lit the room and had likely been lighting their path for a while before they saw her.

Effective!

Fuck off.

“Should we cut her down?” Abby whispered unsure to her stoic companion. Martin hadn’t opened his mouth since swearing.

“I fear disturbing her will break any enchantment on her and possibly alert others to our presents. A daedra would not bother to move her.” He said, voice low and mournful. Abby turned her eyes to him. “Her name is Annalise.”

Abby felt even more nauseous with that knowledge. He’d likely only said it because of the shock but still she wished he hadn’t said. Shock because unlike all the others in Kvatch who were out of sight, and then simply gone, Annalise was front and center. Dead and being used as a chandelier. I used to loot those bodies.

Abby’s eyes roamed her body again critically. There was absolutely an enchantment on her as Martin had said. For one blue flames, and secondly because 9 hours or 2 days a flaming body should have been stinking them out of the tower. Maybe Febreze for Dagon but should have had them all gagging.

“We have to leave her.” Abby said hand reaching for Martin’s arm, but touching his bare skin seemed too far. “We’ll avenge her.”

Martin nodded and turned to those behind them speaking in a soft authoritative voice. It was amazing he was so nervous in the game to give the speech at Cloud Ruler.

“We must pass and not touch her. Do not argue. Do not look Lucus, trust us.” He said. Abby turned slightly, keeping her eyes on the path in front of them an Annalise, and saw Lucus, eyes covered by Athos’s large hand, nod calmly. His breathing was the only thing giving him away as afraid.

They carefully picked their way around the landing going single file around the hanging body. The group continued upward only after arranging themselves so that Lucus would be against the wall in the middle of the pack, unable to look back in childish curiosity.

They passed 3 more bodies this way. None of the remaining were named but all the Kvatch residents looked ashen and grave even under their filth and blood-mud. Abby tried not to think of how she’d handle someone she knew strung up like a horrific Ikea display. At first it was an invasive and upsetting thought but it quickly became upsetting because she couldn’t think of any names for them. Who is someone I know? She stretched her mind to think of someone from home.

No friends or family jumped to her mind. The feelings they gave her, warmth and laughter, she could even picture looking down at her phone getting a text form them but who the fuck were they?

Her worrying lapse of people in Florida fell to the wayside as they reached the last landing before the fake ceiling. At least it better be fake because she was expecting a guard with a key up there. She turned completely to look at the group, trusting Martin to watch for trouble. She put a finger to her lips and pointed upward. Tired but bright eyes reflected back at her. Steeling themselves for danger. One Garren and Neth nodded but everyone looked braced for impact. Best they could do.

She turned and started to creep around the incline straining to see anything. The first thing she saw was a giant cage. Oh thank god. With a naked man in it. Oh no.

He was kneeling in the cage head bowed back to her. He was still alive because she could see the rise and fall of his shoulders. Perhaps crying, perhaps just surrendering to panic. Nothing else stirred above them. Abby gritted her teeth not remembering if he was alone to start with or if the Key keeper was with him. She clenched her fists and raced forward, eyes sweeping each inch that appeared as she moved. It was stupid to rush in but if the Key Keeper was there she’d certainly have the element of surprise.

He was not.

“Hey,” She whispered to the caged man whose head whipped up in shock. “ got something for you, your eyes only.” okay maybe a joke on the worst day of his life wasn’t the strongest lead but she wasn’t a diplomat just a charming idiot.

For all her joke should have been funny to a citizen of Tamriel, unless couriers don't say that yet? He did not laugh. Instead he screamed. 

“LOOK OUT!” Abby didn’t question him and just turned punching blindly assuming something was behind her. It was a good guess, her fist collided with the chest plate of the Key Keeper she’d been searching for. Maybe he didn’t spawn until she tried to talk to him?

It didn’t matter. And Abby’s fist first pulsed with pain at hitting his armored body then began to rush adrenaline in throbbing violently with pain. The Key Keeper was tall and demonic looking. He was pushed back a step by the force of her hit and Abby was able to clock huge curling horns like a ram, impossibly dark purple skin and glowing red eyes. She didn’t have time to look however because he was decidedly not hurt, only moved. The others rushed up to their level joining her assault of the daedra.

He had a weapon out it the next moment and that mace was bigger than any sword she’d seen since arriving here. Holy fuck, one hit and they were toast. The others seemed to get that as well because when he swung that monstrosity at Garren and Athos they scattered, allowing him to break the circle we’d made around him. Better safe than fucking tenderized.

Cyrille followed behind him jabbing the seemingly shrimpish blade at his neck and shoulder blades, hoping for a gap in his armor. He quickly kicked back and sent her sprawling. Cool awesome he was freakishly strong too. Cyrille’s knife remained jabbed into his armor however.

“Wretch, I will the hearts of your children.” it’s voice was fucking terrifying. Mechanical like a smoker using those throat vibration readers. Deep like he’d gone through 30 years of puberty and loud like it was specially designed by Dagon to make mortal ears ring. He spun around to face them mace deciding which of them to bash first. His eyes clocked Lucus, hunched against the entry way trembling.

“Cowardly little bitch” Abby shouted fear making her voice loud enough she thought the shake wasn’t noticeable. His eyes flicked to her. “That’s right you runty little scamp.” His nostrils flared and Abby vaguely registered others moving, hopefully in front of their smallest member.

“That’s right, I heard they only trust you to guard locked doors and not even raid the mortals.” He charged toward Lucus despite her taunts but Abby was ready coiled to launch herself at him. They collided beside the cage, Abby swinging with all her might at his face and pushing his body with hers. He was knocked off balance, maybe he really was a runty daedra bad at battle. His back knocked into the cage which swung wildly at being buffeted by their combined weight.

“DIE!” He screamed spittle flying. But he didn’t raise his hands and weapon and instead was snatched bodily backwards toward the cage. The naked man inside had threaded his arm out and was choking the Key Keeper as best as he could from the mobile prison. What a bad ass.

“You first” And Martin was between them suddenly hand pointed at his chest. A huge ice spike fired from his hand and into the pinned daedra’s chest. His red eyes were wide with surprise and he sagged to the floor when the caged man dropped him. Martin stepped back and the Key Keeper sank to the floor entirely. Adrenaline still racing Abby stepped around him and stomped her booted foot with all her might at his head.

The Key Keeper gave one last pitiful sound that ended with her foot descending. The horn she caught broke off and her foot sank satisfyingly into his squishy face. Nasty.

The entire scuffle had only lasted moments. Her hand hurt, her heart hurt a little from fear, her head was also beginning to ache with the amount of blood racing around her body. Martin gripped her with both hands.

“Lunatic.” He muttered looking her over.

He knows me too mortal

Abby frowned. Seeing her expression. “Rushing at a Dremora without your weapon drawn.” She grimaced and turned, plucking the knife in her belt. She held it to Garren who took it automatically even though he looked questioningly. His body and subconscious demanded safety in this shit show. She waved him off with a huff looking back at Martin.

“I think I’m playing hand to hand.” She said stupidly. Martin made a soft noise.

“Playing indeed. Sip that damn potion your hand is swelling already.” He nodded and then moved away from her to check on the others.

“Ilend, my friend, what did I tell you about sleeping naked in the barracks?” Lawrence stepped forward and stuck his hand in the cage toward the man despite his nudity. Ilend gave a hysterical laugh clutching his offered hand.

“Only I would meet my maker naked and then get rescued by a comedy troupe.” He nodded toward Abby but didn’t take his eyes off his friend's face. Abby trusted Martin to look at the others and instead took off her pack. The only thing she had left clothing wise were the pants she arrived here in, she was currently wearing the pair taken from the Dunmer’s pack, and a thin red shirt she did not think was going to fit any part of this man. She didn’t remember the Dunmer being that slender but it must have been from his original things. Maybe he was also a hoarder, typical Hero of Kvatch shit.

She took out the wool pants and the half empty health potion. She took a small swig of the potion and let it sit in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. Spreading it around wouldn’t make it go further but there was something comforting about pretending she was coating her insides completely with magic. She then passed the pants to Lawrence and capped the potion. She passed the bottles off to Neth and returned her focus to the guard Illend and Lawrence.

Athos was also approaching the case, eyes scanning critically. Blacksmith, she reminded herself hopefully. Leaving Ilend always infuriated her and she recalled googling many times when she was young if there was a way to save him on xbox,

“Can you do anything?” Abby asked carefully. No need to get her hopes up damn it. Athos circled the cage for a better look. Ilend watched him but was speaking softly and urgently to Lawrence.

“They just came pouring in. Couldn't stop them. I was taken here with a group, maybe 10 others. Have you seen anyone?” He asked hopefully. Abby grimaced. They’d only passed 4 bodies. Were there 5 other souls hanging around or perhaps being kept in a cage, waiting for their turn as interior decoration?

“We haven’t seen anyone alive. The 7 of us were hiding for hours before Abby passed by, pleasant as can be, like she was out for a stroll.” Lawrence exclaimed in disbelief, happy to gossip with his friend and be occupied by something other than death, doom and red heat for a moment.

“Couriers go all kinds of places, didn’t you know.” Ilend laughed. “But I can’t be the only one left..” He might be. Neither Lawrence or Abby wanted to tell him that.

“Why do you keep so many clothes in your pack?” Abby started violently at the unfamiliar voice and turned to find Lucus at her elbow. He was staring curiously at her bag and clearly thinking about the pants she’d tossed to Ilend.

“Having nothing makes you treasure everything.” She said softly. “I never know what I’m going to need, or what others might need.” He nodded thoughtfully. “And I’m scared.” His eyes flew to hers in shock.

“You?!” He asked in awe.

“Oh yes, me! And sometimes things make it feel safer. I didn’t do anything really except cover his butt.” She made a funny voice and enjoyed Lucus’ giggles. Lucus retreated to Cyrille who was holding the still corked potion watching them.

“I don’t know how to get him out.” Athos pronounced grimly. The room fell silent. “I don’t think this was meant to be opened again. It looks like they welded him in.” He pointed at some lumpy looking hinges. Ilend didn’t seem surprised at all. Abby moved toward the cage looking more intently for a keyhole. Come on!! The game had worked with her so far.

“They did.” The suspended guard confirmed pointing out the padlock she was hoping to find. It was just a lump of jagged metal.

“Fuck” Abby snapped kicking at the corpse they’d avoided looking at for now. “We’ll melt you out. What’s the weakest looking part?” She turned to Athos. He looked at her pityingly.

“How will we heat the metal?” Neth prompted seemingly willing to go with her insane plan.

“How will we keep him safe from the flame and metal?” Garren added.

“Martin knows the flame spell.” Abby spun to face him. The priest looked exhausted. “I have a potion of sorcery I was saving, but Martin gets full up and then melts the weakest bars, Athos hammers them open, boom he’s out!”

Even as she spoke Martin was already shaking his head.

“Stop that, not no, yes! Please Martin, why won’t you help him?” Abby’s heart began to race. “Please Martin, help me!”

“I cannot. I don’t know any flame spell.”

“Okay, okay so we try something else.” She realized she was pacing. “A flame atronach!” She was looking ahead but not really seeing anything passed the walls of the room. “A flame atronach and then I kill it and the explosion melts the bars? But melts the guard.” She walked into something solid on her next pass. The room snapped back into being and the thing that had blocked her path was Martin.

She scanned the room. The others were gone except Ilend. She hadn’t even noticed. Martin’s hands came up to her shoulders stopping her from moving.

“We must continue Abigail, Ilend will be okay. We will pull the stone and because he’s not of this plane he should show up in his home.” Martin’s eyes were so blue. He had been suspicious of her earlier, concerned when she had fought like an idiot, and now he was unbearably kind in the face of her being unreasonable.

“Don’t call me that.” Abby muttered defeated. Legally that was her name but she’d always hated it.

Martin’s lip quirked up wards.

“We must continue onward.” He stepped away from her but didn’t leave the room.

“I’m sorry to cause you such worry, Hero.” Ilend’s voice broke her stillness. How cruel is that? To make him comfort Abby when he was very likely bound for death.

“Besides you’ve saved my friends and my dignity If this is the day I go to my ancestors.” Ilend had a crooked smile that made her think his ancestors had struggled to raise him. His body was older, but he still had that boyish, rascally charm. He seemed calm. If he was faking she appreciated it.

“If we don’t meet again, thanks for laughing at my joke.” She said stupidly. He smiled but said nothing.

Abby turned her attention to the body below him.

******************************************************

After her silent searching she’d found the Key to the sigil tower around his neck on a leather strap. Ilend had done his NPC duty of telling her he thought it went to the tall tower. She also found a shiny gold ring and fucking septims of all things.

“Where in Oblivion did he think he was spending these?” She asked in disbelief. Still she deposited the coins and purse in her pack. The ring she cautiously slipped on her finger. It was undeniably magical. But what kind of magic? She had no fucking clue.

She shrugged and kept it on. The others were sitting on the incline just below the platform waiting for her. They all looked up hopefully when she appeared in the entrance.

“Sorry about that. Found the key.” She shrugged. The group seemed to accept her small mental break and all stood still ready to follow her. They bid soft and solemn farewells to Ilend as they pried open the door to the bridge behind his cage.

As the door opened a flash of heat raced inward toward them. It was very reminiscent of checking on food in the oven. Her glasses completely fogging so she couldn't actually check the oven properly. Where are my fucking glasses?! She realized with a jolt. She’d been reading, walking and existing without them for how many days?! How could she have forgotten her glasses??? She had worn them since she was very young.

The door opened completely and her panicked revelation was cut short. I’ve been having too many of those anyway. She was relieved to have another problem to focus on.

The bridge before them was no more than 2 feet wide, had no rails or ropes for safety, and was swaying slightly in the forceful winds.

What there’s no Daedric OSHA?

She had anticipated this as the hardest part for her because she had been afraid of heights her entire life, but was gratified to see the others also looked uncomfortable and hesitant to continue onward.

“Okay honestly. I think I’m going to crawl it. Lower center of gravity for winds, can’t trip on my hands and knees. I’m a coward about heights” She felt a bit embarrassed but fuck it, they’d already seen her freak out and if you couldn’t be honest in the fiery plains of hell where could you?

They all agreed that was smart and that’s how 8 cautious fearful mortals crept hands and knees across the bridge to the sigil tower. The key she’d plundered fit perfectly into the door and when she turned it, the door sprang open like it was spring loaded. Hmm maybe we just don’t know how to open them? There was certainly no wrestling it open on this damned bridge.

They all scurried into the new tower and after Neth the last person passed Lawrence and Garren worked to force the door closed. It sealed up tight and the harsh winds from outside vanished from the hall leaving their ears ringing. It was silent for a moment as they all looked at each other in fear someone might have heard the ruckus of the outside. Nothing came barreling down at them. No alarms sounded calling the demons to arms.

Abby started when a bright white jet of light shot past her and around the corner. It raced back and her eyes followed it to Lucus who stood face focused, hand clenched. She grinned and pulled herself together a bit.

“Fair enough.”

Chapter 8: The Tower's Top part 2

Summary:

More badly written action on the race to escape. Abby has to make many snap decisions in the midst of this bull shittery and finally face what she's suspected for a while now.

Notes:

Violence and a spell from Harry Potter written by no one because fuck that terf

Abby did not want to think about the laughter or the voice. She didn’t want to think about anything actually. She wanted to wake up on the floor of her apartment with her stockpile of mac and cheese and soup for her dental procedure. Instead her mind eager to provide solutions was contemplating left handedness.

The hallway they had arrived in continued several large stone blocks forward and then began to curl upward to the right. Which was good, because UP was undeniably the correct way when in a Gate. but was unfortunate because the hall facing left meant they'd be at a disadvantage fighting upward if they encountered anyone.

Unless one of us is left handed.

This knowledge nagged at her because why would she consider the defensive properties of a staircase? Her apartment had stairs but she was a first floor tenant. And while stairs were common in many many places in life, they typically involved landings and direction swaps instead of steep spirals these days.

If she thought hard enough she could see herself diligently watching her shoes clamber for purchase on narrow uneven steps in one such spiral staircase. But the image was incomplete and only the cool dark stone and her black sneakers were visible in the memory. Like trying to catch the rain.

“Abigail?” She was drawn from her thoughts and blanched.

“Don’t call me that,” She frowned. Martin seemed amused and Abby wasn’t sure if it really annoyed her or if it was just habit to protest. It didn’t sound so bad when he said it.

“Is anyone left handed?” The group blinked at me, “For the climb?” She mimed stabbing up the stairs and they all relaxed and looked at the others. It seemed as though we were a right hand gang.

“It’s fine. single file, Athos and hammer at the rear. When we get home, let's all agree to practice with both hands just in case.” She smiled at them and Garren and Neth gave identical scoffs rolling their eyes. They looked close in age but in that moment they were mirrors, twins even.

My siblings are twins.

Shhh you’ll drive yourself crazy

What an asshole.

**********************************

The left handedness, or lack of, didn’t become a problem fortunately. They encountered no one on their climb, Abby in the lead sticking close to the inner column. She wasn’t sure if that was strategically the smartest place to be but having the sturdy support of the wall on her side made her feel a little safer.

Safe as one can be in otherworldly hell.

They came onto a landing that was empty as far as she could see. She stepped to the side to usher the others up and speak to them each softly.

“Watch the walls for traps.” She whispered, hand falling to Martin’s back and guiding/pushing him up the steep incline to the landing. He might not have needed it, none of them might have, but she came from a very flat place and had already climbed more in these last few days than her entire life. The warning was whispered to each person and they all accepted her help without comment although Neth looked annoyed at being helped up by a woman.

When at last Athos had climbed up she turned to look at their group gathered around a garish fountain with a blue pulsing center. She walked up curiously to the fixture. The seating around it amused her as it always had. Was it a holy fountain, they congregated around for worship? Or perhaps a merely aesthetic addition to the room? Like a demented lava lamp. The benches around it were metal and reminded her of garden benches complete with long velvet cushions which also made her laugh. They slept on stone beds in Markarth but daedra needed ass protection.

Her hand reached forward to touch the blue light. She had her fingers in it before anyone could express caution or doubt that it was safe. A cool energy raced up her arm and settled low in her gut.

“Magic replenishing fountain” She said to the people watching her.

“Idiot” Garren glared and shoved his hand into the blue mist as well. She rolled her eyes.

“Enjoy the replenishing or don’t you hater” She stuck out her tongue at this retreating form. Lucus saw and giggled joining the line to also touch the magic.

Abby scanned the rest of the room while the rest used the well.

There was no upward tunnel, the space to the left was likely an outer wall, judging by the crimson glass and orange lights spilling into the room. Finally her eyes lighted on a seam that was likely a door. Inwards, so maybe to the spire's center? Typically that led in the right direction but was also guarded. Walking out there would likely alert any occupants of the tower to their presents.

“I think we’re nearing the stone. But I believe this leads into the center of the tower, think about the last climb but with a giant fiery ray of doom in the middle.” The others were listening closely but she could see Garren and Martin considering her words closely. Probably wondering how she knew that.

“We may have to fight. We may have to run. The goal is always the rock upstairs.” Cyrille and Lucus nodded but she doubted they’d actually run and leave any of them behind if it came down to it. Abby didn’t want to say, fuck everyone and get that rock but it exactly what she wanted to say. She’d never enjoyed escort missions and this was about to turn into her least favorite part, escorts during combat.

At least they don’t follow my every exact step. There was not a time in Morrowind when her quicksaves were more frequent than leading around NPCs.

Abby gestured at the seam in the door and Neth, Martin and Athos stepped forward to help her pry it open. Abby stood opposite Martin, fingers wriggling into the door, trying not to look into his eyes. The awkwardness of the tight area made it very difficult to not think about the proximity of his hands or his striking blue eyes watching her.

They almost had the door open wide enough to hear the catch mechanism that held it open click when instead they heard a sharp metallic noise and a cry of pain. Of course in that moment a gravely roar also came from the other side of the walkway they were opening. Abby strained her neck to look, keeping her hands still in the door so it didn’t slam shut on her fellow door pullers. The sound has also stopped them from pulling but thankfully no one budged or started and dropped the door.

She finally was able to catch a glimpse of Lawrence speared on a blackened, rusty spike protruding from the wall. His shoulder was run completely through and he had the un-kebabed hand covering his mouth to stifle his cry.

Which was unfortunately too late as the growling got louder outside the door. Abby’s head snapped back but from her position she couldn’t see upward or anything coming. Martin apparently could because his pretty face was pale and his eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Dadaroth!” He cried in alarm. It was loud but honestly, they were found at least by the incoming creature so it didn’t matter at all. Neth and Martin's side flagged a little as they panicked a bit at whatever they were seeing. Abby remembered Oblivion Dadaroth as beefy line backer esq lizards that did a goofy ass shimmy before attacking. If her experience with a clannfear had taught her anything it was that they were going to be largely similar but significantly more deadly.

“Hold the door, we'll drop it on him!” She said and thankfully the other three men steadied themselves pulling the door back again. “Turn those benches Lucus we’ll need a shield!” She shouted over her shoulder, looking back to the frightened brunettes across from her she locked completely onto their faces. “Say when!”

Thank Azura that seemed to be a phrase here as well because no more than a moment passed, where the growling grew louder and the door trembled beneath her fingers at the weight of what was on the other side than Martin and Neth shouted in perfect synch.

“NOW!”

She dropped the door and tossed herself backwards into Athos. He luckily remained on his feet and steadied them both as the door sprung shut from both sides with a force that would have taken off her fingers around the Dadaroth’s powerful maw. It was exactly as scaly as she’d expected, slightly hunched to enter the door they’d been holding and nothing at all like an alligator as she’d been subconsciously imagining.

Alligators in general were not aggressive unless you messed with them first. This lizard had glowing red eyes that burned with hatred at them as his arms wedged into the door to pry it open. If it hurt him, he didn’t show, but Abby couldn’t see how it wouldn’t have hurt.

Rushing up from behind her Garren and Lucus were carrying the heavy metal benches by the legs and shoved mightily at the squished invader.

This wasn’t something she could punch that much was certain. Thankfully the door and repeatedly bumping benches seemed to hold him for now. But no telling how long they had or if he had smarter back up on the other side coming down.

Abby was drawing a blank on what to do for this. Their daggers seemed wholly inadequate for this task, Martin likely couldn’t ice spike it through it’s impressive torso and punching any part of him seemed to put her right next to spikes, or teeth.

Thankfully the decision was taken out of her hands as Athos started forward, put his legs into a power stance, grasped the repair hammer with both hands and brought it down in a mighty swing directly onto one of the Dadaroth’s head spikes.

Like a deranged wack-a-mole

The laughter was back, as loud and hysterical as it had sounded outside of Thorley’s hut.

The first slam of his hammer drove the beast to the ground flat with a pitiful grunt. The second equally powerful smash, sent the spike collapsing into it’s skull and broke the wooden end of the hammer. Athos pulled back stunned and left both the dead reptile and his hammer embedded deeply in the corpse.

“Talos” Garren said in shock, the heavy bench dropping quickly to the ground. Abby was also staring at the body in shock and concern. Only Lucus remembered their injured party.

“Don’t move!” His voice broke her revery regarding the gruesome doorstop. She turned to see Lucus hesitantly reaching out to the older man but clearly afraid of the spikes. Abby grimaced not sure what was going to happen, her plan of fucking run seemed shot now they’d announced their presents in such a grand fashion and one of their party was stuck in the wall.

Neth called out and turned her from her debate.

“They’re coming down the tower.” He called. Fuck. She turned quickly to Lawrence again. He was already looking at her resigned to being left behind. His expression reminded her of Ilend’s kindness as she also had to leave him behind.

“Go.” He said without hesitation. Cyrille walked closer to him, hand glowing a gentle gold already.

“Go on, if you can pull the rock we’ll be right behind you in Kvatch.” She said grimly. “Watch over Lucus.”

What the fuck was this day? She couldn’t decide, or contemplate if there was a better way. In game there were always ways to pause play but in this nightmare time raced by in frightening real time.

“Abby!” Athos grabbed her arm. Fuck can’t think.

“Benches around the two of them, then we make for the stone.” She ordered and turned to the bench still in place on the ground. Athos was there beside her helping her tip it upright on its side legs facing outwards in a pitiful attempt at a barricade, or shield and spear.

“Fucking soft hearted….” Abby didn’t hear the rest of Garren’s insult as the other bench clanged down beside them, fencing Cyrille and Lawrence in. She turned and grabbed Lucus’ hand. The six of them clambered over the Dadaroth body and out onto the landing without looking backward.

*******************************

This tower was enchanted to high fucking heaven, because as soon as she cleared the tail of Athos’ frankly impressive kill the center beam of fire hummed with a rhythmic noise that would have been impossible to hide without magic.

Maybe they want to hide the spire and the stone? But then who were they expecting to come into their gates and close them? A half second vision of argonians storming the gates made her smile as they raced upward toward the stone and the encroaching enemies.

Maybe the outside daedra really hate noisy neighbors.

Maybe think on it another time!

That’s sweet, was the intruder concerned for her well being now after a day of traversing hell? She didn’t think of him anymore as they met the tower defenders.

The platform was an ugly yellow material stretched out two feet to make a path, suspended by nothing similar to the way the game looked, except there was no flimsy rail to prevent you from careening over it while in combat. Which was exactly what happened to the first daedra.

The armoured Kyn whatever was easily redirected by the armpits over the edge. She almost laughed at the way he ran into her arms, hands raised with his weapon, having judged the distance, or perhaps his own speed, incorrectly he leapt into her outstretched hands, which snatched him by the armpits and with a downright operatic twirl, she’d tossed him downhill and over the edge of the incline.

He screamed the entire way down. Hopefully he stayed dead in shame for a really long time before reforming. Her inspiring and unusual display of grace had left her however back to his comrades. Lucus tugged her sharply to the wall and one of the brothers, she couldn’t see properly who and keep her balance, attacked where she’d been moments before. It was Garren stabbing fiercely with the knife she’d surrendered to him.

Garren’s opponent was another Kyn fighter with a short dagger, Neth and Martin gave chase to an upward retreating robbed figure with dark purple skin and horns who was casting feverishly while walking backwards.

Impressive bastard.

A third hunched fleshly, little scrotum was summoning a fireball in his fingers. He wasn’t taller than Lucus and his head likely stopped right at her bellybutton if he stood up straight at all. This was clearly a scamp. Abby grasping Lucus stepped forward to help fight when the first ball loosed and skimmed her shoulder. She yelped and ducked slightly in pain.

When she stood back up straight a purple circle of magic was beside Athos and the faint outline of a Dadaroth appeared. Oh gods, he was summoning.

“Run for it!” She cried and clutching Lucus hard enough to bruise she barreled up the path. It was uncomfortable beyond belief to charge upward with her wimpy calves but she still charged upward, snatching Martin’s shirt as she passed, pulling him with her. He stumbled a bit but quickly caught himself and fled with her. Abby could not look if the others followed or were trapped on the other side of the new combatant.

They crested the top of the riser under the flesh coloured ceiling and onto a lumpy plateau. On the far side of the room was a seam. Fuck and like an idiot she’d left everyone behind. She turned to see Athos and Neth hot on her heels being chased by the Dadaroth conjuring and robed humanoid creature. Garren, the knife Kyn and the Scamp were no wear to be seen. Martin had continued around the side and Abby moved to follow him, more time to think on that side of the room if they had to fight another Dadaroth, or at least survive one.

As she came even with Martin she saw his hands shoot out to begin the door pulling. She wasn’t sure if it was the strength of his hands on the door, or some magic Septim bull shit but the door sprang open at his touch to the locked position. He obviously had no idea this would happen as he looked surprised, hands snatching back quickly. Abby shoved him in Lucus sandwiched between them.

Athos and Neth had made it to their level, reptile lumbering after them.

“As soon as they cross the door, cast frost as hard and fast as you can at the floor. Lucus you need to stand on this side of the door and yank it hard to get it to slam shut.” She said quickly, taking one side of the door and clenching everything even tighter, somehow readying to cast the frost spell she’d only made a handful of times so far. Martin took his place not a moment later and Athos and Neth full sprinted threw the door.

Abby pushed both hands forward palms open and casted for all she was worth as a day two mage.

Her frost coated about a foot of space directly in the doorway, thankfully Martin’s much more mature magic met hers eagerly covering the door entry and far side where their pursuers would be taking the first steps after them. The Dadaroth hit the ice and stumbled forward, scales not used to gripping ice. Lucus yanked the door with his entire body, also stumbling a bit on the ice but thankfully was caught by Athos and pulled from the fall zone, the door crush zone, and the frostbite area as Martin and Abby kept casting.

The Dadaroth crashed to the ground like a cartoon and the door Lucus had launched slammed into him. Apparently conjurations were much easier to kill because it pressed on his scales for a moment before he was reduced to purple fluorescent sparkles and the door slammed completely shut. Martin didn’t stop casting however and began to freeze the door seam.

Smart! Unless there really was a secret way to open it that’d he’d accidentally nudged from the other side. Abby also turned her blast to the top part, meeting him two thirds of the way down.

“Garren?” She asked breathlessly after they’d finished. Neth looked murderous.

“Drew them away. Thanks for the fucking warning.” She couldn’t feel bad about it now what’s done is done.

“What’s done is done. Let us go and rescue him.” Martin cut off any argument she or Neth could have had started by walking past them both hands at the ready limping slightly.

They were in the final room with a stretched canvas platform that was absolutely meat. She was horrified and glad they were moving fast with limited time to process the nastiness. She was also glad they were all wearing shoes of some kind.

Before the platform they had to scale a double bone staircase, also shown in the game. The bones were spaced in a way she was sure she could climb them if she ran up and didn’t stop but Lucus would find it very very difficult to crest with his smaller gate.

“Fuck” Her internal thought was echoed by Neth. On the platform was a lone robed figure. Great a conjuror.

“Abigail, get the stone! We’ll distract him.” Martin said and the other two men followed him up the right set of bones, indeed doing a sort of run, jump, skip up the stairs.

Parkour

How the fuck?

Abby eyed the left stairway.

“Lucus, can you hide under the bones? I don’t think I can take you up.” She felt like a fucking asshole, telling a ten year old to cower while she ran away. Lucus nodded and ran off without speaking. Abby ran to the bones bracing herself for the jump and trying to push down the fear, guilt and panic that was rising in her.

She was thankfully up the awkward stairs in a moment and turned to climb the flesh platform. She was on the level above in a moment. She moved toward the center and saw something that made her stop short.

It was too fucking far.

The sigil stone anchoring them all to this fuckery, and endangering Kvatch was a good fifteen feet off the platform and the size of a watermelon. If it had been bigger she might have been able to take a dive and try and dislodge it, sending them all back home. But this size and this distance she couldn’t do it.

She looked around frantically for something to help. Martin, Athos and Neth were holding their own against the Kyn and conjured Scamp, Lucus was tucked against the wall underneath her out of sight. There was fuck all around to help.

Worse, a second robed figure appeared in the doorway they’d come through, clearly the daedra from the platform having made it past the ice door. Not only was he back up for the battle on the level below her but he would be on eye level with Lucus. He spotted the boy and Lucus shouted in fear.

“FUCK! SHEOGORATH!” She cried in desperation.

Finally!

His voice that had haunted her since waking here was finally a comfort. She knew exactly what to do. She reached up her sleeve for the stashed paint brush. It wouldn’t work without him. This was not a dream. This was a world, with gravity, some logic and a cheese loving kidnapper.

She backed up to the wall and took a running jump forward. She dropped the brush in the air before her, hyper focused on landing one or both of her feet on it. Her front foot planted on the solid suspended stick with certainty. As if it was the most natural thing in the world for a paint brush to deny physics and support and entire humans weight 60 feet in the air. It was enough purchase to shove herself forward again and into the tiny melon of doom that had pushed them to this madness.

Madness, Madness MADNESS my little mortal. He sang in her mind.

The sigil stone touched by her hand caused everything to begin being licked by flames. Rapidly burning around them.

Not rapidly enough, as through the sheets of fire she saw the Kyn crowd Lucus staff pointed at him, unfriendly side first.

MADNESSS MADNESS ABBEHT ABBEHT

Unable to see, unable to let go of the rock, unable to think past the crowing and echoing sounds Abby held out one hand and shouted as loudly as she could.

“ACCIO LUCUS!”

The flames cleared for a millisecond, long enough for her to see the boy flying upward away from a lightning blast, and then burned bright white hotter than anything she’d ever felt.

Maybe We’ll all go back to our planes with this

And with that desperate thought and a preteen projectile hurtling toward her the tower melted away.

Que the LOAD SCREEN

Que the LOAD SCREEN

Notes:

Hopefully you like that as much as I did while writing it.

Chapter 9: Aftermath

Summary:

Strangely, this is nothing like the game where you can complete a quest and fuck right off.

There were exactly two minutes of weightless peace where Abby suspected she was about to come too on the squishy $50 sofa she’d rescued from a thrift store. Her eyes strained against the brightness looking all around for something solid or knowable. Waiting a bit, growing more concerned with each passing moment.

Unfortunately, her concern was well founded as instead of the beige cushions and comfortable blankets she filled her home with her body jolted. The world jerked into being around her like she’d just woken from a dream about falling off a tall building.

Maybe she really had been falling.

If she wasn’t, Lucus certainly was because the boy dropped heavily onto her knocking the wind from her lungs and undoubtedly bruising her tired body. The noise she made was supremely unflattering but her hands still reached out to wrap around the boy rolling him quickly to the side and off her. He seemed fine however despite their impact.

It worked.

All around her in various states of injury and disarray were people. Martin was sitting up searching the survivors. Garren and Neth were both bleeding and slapping at Neth’s pant leg which was steaming and likely had been on fire. From the sigil stone or the scamp it was unclear. Athos hadn’t moved from the ground but was breathing so heavily it was obvious he was fine. Maybe crying.

The remaining party members were not so lucky.

Lawrence has crumpled on the ground, clutching his arm that was gushing blood in a comical horrific manner that reminded her of the Black Knight. His right arm was completely gone. Ilend was, to her intense relief, crawling over to him quickly. His foot was twisted at an unnatural angle and already starting to swell wildly. Perhaps they’d all fallen to some degree.

The three returned guards who were all bleeding and swearing hands running over themselves to confirm all of them had made it back. One was Klein the perverted teenage guard.

The others to be returned were huddled against each other shaking violently. A woman in a torn nightgown and a young teenage girl who wasn’t looking up from the safety of the other woman’s embrace.

A foot in front of them was just a pair of bleeding bare legs. They were the tan skin of many of the locals she’d met here like Thorley but maybe four feet long and bulky. Whoever owned these legs would have been the bulkiest Imperial she’d seen.

No other bodies or parts came back which made her think this beefy Imperial was chopped in half as she pulled the stone.

He just missed it.

She felt cold, miserable and realized she was crying. Shaking violently at the sight of his body.

“Abby?” Lucus was calling her name. From her position on her side she simply closed her eyes and sank to the ground desperate for rest and the peace of the void she’d just traveled through.

*************************************************************

When she woke Abby noted she’d been moved away from whatever dumping ground they’d all been deposited on. She was instead resting on her mat, face tucked into some familiar wooden barrels.

“She’s a fuckin Demented. You heard her call on him.” An angry voice hissed. And he wasn’t wrong, faced with failure and the loss of the entire party, she’d called out to the Mad God unashamedly. She knew he’d answer because he’d been answering with unsolicited replies since she arrived here. But it was that or failure.

“Fuck off she got you back didn’t she? What were we doing before that? Hiding and waiting to die.” Wow Lawrence must really be upset to talk like that.

“Some of us did die!!” Neth snapped back, because it had been him hissing angrily like a wet cat.

“You know she didn’t want to come home! Ellie was gone and Cyrille knew it. She was never coming back with us.” Lawrence’s words brought silence to Neth and anyone else he was talking to. I hate being right. She’d suspected Cyrille had lost her child and was only holding on to try and secure Lucus’s safety. Her lack of return to Kvatch made Abby know she’d died somehow, as none of the lifeless people or parts had returned except the Leg Legionaire.

The laughter began to echo softly in her ears at the morbid joke.

Abby screwed her eyes shut tighter wishing it would go away. Knowing she’d needed him before didn’t mean she wanted him around all the time.

Thankfully the laughter stopped.

“You in pain Abby?” A voice murmured. Savlian!

“Just tired. Why?” she asked, not opening her eyes.

“Why?! Like I didn’t see a 10 year old nearly pulverize you when the damn gate shut.” He chuckled. Abby wanted to stay on this mat and behind this barrel forever. Savlian could handle everything, he’d been raising people his entire life. What’s one more?

But she also wanted to get up and check on everyone. Check of Lucus, see how Lawrence was healing up. Ask Savlian how defense and rebuilding was coming along. Had the Legion arrived? Where was Martin?

That last question made her eyes shoot open.

“Fuck, how long have I been sleeping?” She asked, noticing the sun was well on its retreat. Or maybe rise? Azura’s hours either way.

“Slept 5 hours.” He shrugged and held out a bowl of soup to her. She sat up and took it quickly. The brown bowl was rough-hewn, as if recently made when not enough bowls could be recovered from the parts of the city they could enter. The quality of the bowl didn’t really matter, but it made her wonder how long they’d been here and how far into the city they’d managed to recover. In game they couldn’t enter the city at all due to the Gate’s location. Here they might have made it into the ramparts and around to the guard towers. The food itself was a broth with bread. Like the thinnest chicken and dumplings ever, she smiled despite its lackluster taste as it reminded her of home. Wherever that was.

“And how long were we gone?” She asked between sips. He hadn’t passed her a spoon so she assumed they didn’t have any made or to spare. She was able enough not to waste so maybe it was being saved for the sick. “Who made it back? What’s happening now?”

Savlain mouth ticked up amused at her curiosity warring with her hunger.

“You were gone 5 days” He sounded significantly less amused at that. He’d sent the men in at day 3 per their last talk so he may have sent more than the 3 she saw. “Brother Martin told me they’d only been in there maybe a day. So you might be out of sorts.” She nodded expecting that. “The others were ravenous, I figured you’d be hungry too.”

She finished up the last dregs and gave a satisfied grunt at how much the food hit the spot.

“Good soup.” She whipped her mouth and handed back the bowl. If it was carved during her visit to Oblivion, it might be Savlians.

“You brought back Lawrence, Neth and Garren Surville, Lucus Hobson, Ilend our longest service guard, Katrinia of Whiterun and Sofie Lectus. Plus 3 of my men.” That sounded like everyone she’d seen post trampoline simulation.

“And of course, Martin the Priest.” He smirked at her knowingly. She rolled her eyes, she’d forgotten was an accused Sanguinte here to corrupt their Acolyte of Akatosh. She wasn’t, and honestly he would be the one doing any corrupting in this arrangement, she thought sniggering, she hadn’t been the Champion of Sanguine.

“I found them when I went in, your little spell, walked me right to them. Was one more but she didn’t make it back.” Abby shook her head. It was wild to think Cyrille had been with them, active and vibrant and was now gone. That’s likely how all the survivors of Kvatch felt and she was being a selfish baby for reeling from it. “Got them geared up best we could and then made for the tower.”

She took this uninterrupted time to explain everything that had happened while she was away to him. Despite Savlian feeling like a friend since the moment they met, this felt like a mission debrief. He listened well, only asking for clarification if she'd gotten too caught up in something or assumed he knew what it looked like in there. He was a very very good listener and Captain of the Guard.

She remembered that he’s the one who gives the Hero a Kvatch set of guard armor and ran off to peace and quite from the destroyed city. She hoped if he left he’d return, Kvatch was going to need help, good solid help if it ever wanted to rebuild.

“I can’t believe you punched a daedra.” was all he really had to say at the end of her long story. She laughed.

“Gods me neither, I’m gonna need to practice with a knife more.”

“Or any practice at all?” offered a voice behind her. Abby smiled and turned. Martin was making his way toward them, clad once more in a green robe rather than her sleeveless shirt. “I cannot say it wasn’t memorable however.” He stopped outside of the area their mats were in and assessed her little camp. She wondered for a moment what he really thought of her, suspicion when they met, trust on the battlefield, finding her looking cosy with the Captain of the guard. Her screaming bloody murder for Sheogorath.

“Beggars can’t be choosers Martin.” She shrugged. “Glad you look well.” She added nodding at his outfit.

Martin looked briefly as if just remembering he’d put on a robe. It was probably like a second skin to him now, after living as a priest for so long.

“I appreciate your shirt, but I found a stack of these in the rubble. It felt good to have something familiar.”

oh yea he also just lost everything he loved and owned.

“Speaking of familiar, I think we should talk.” He said finally looking to Savlian. He made to move but Abby shook her head and got her feet stretching.

“We’ll go, you do your thing, ya know guard the sleeping rolls.” Savlian had the put upon look of a man well familiar with bad jokes but didn’t dispute it instead moving to his bedroll and stretching out.

Martin led her a ways away toward the fence she’d met Savlian at originally. It was still within sight of all the comings and goings of the city but close to one of the still burning fires they’d stoked for a signal and thus mostly deserted to avoid the smoke and smells.

“I know I behaved badly in the gate” He began, “I was rude, and exhausted. It’s no excuse but I was preparing to die and lead those with me to their doom when you found us. You who’s voice and eyes haunted my dreams for many months now. I was surprised to see you were real and not just a..” he trailed off, scanning the surrounding countryside and not looking directly at me. “Suffice to say, the one I left has sent many many things to tempt me back to the fold.” He finished a bit lamely.

“First off, flattered you think I’m a tempting offer from Sanguine, really I’ll be cherishing that forever,” She teased and Martin snorted a bit bashfully. “ Big endorsement from the Champion himself. And secondly, I have something impossible to tell you. Well, 2 impossible things really.” He no longer looked amused when she mentioned his former Champion status.

“Do you want plausible but still crazy or full crazy? She asked amiably climbing to sit on the fence and watch the path they’d taken for approach.

“Start small. Ease me into it” She was gonna need him to calm down on sexy if he didn’t want to be flirted with.

Although he didn’t say he didn’t want to be flirted with!

Not the time

“Okay first, You are Martin Septim and your Father is the Emperor. Was I guess. Unfortunately he and your siblings have been murdered. The leader of the blades sent someone to find you.” She trailed off as Martin leaned heavily on the fence, hands clenched tightly. “I’m sorry Martin.” She said gently clenching her own hands not sure if she should reach out. This was never going to be good news for him. Sorry you’re adopted!

“This is the easy news?” He said, finally turning his soulful sad eyes toward her. She gave a short bitter laugh.

“I think it might be.”

And then she told him everything. The games she played as a child, how she’d grown up knowing his story, playing alongside during the crisis. How it was never real but then she woke up here confused, in pain and next to a dead body. How she’d suspected everything was a dream until thing after thing piled up proving even as she desperately wished it didn’t that this was real.

“I had thought it was a dream, and then when it became too real, I thought if Martin’s dead I have to close this gate at the very least. And then when we were in there I was hoping pulling the stone would…” She trailed off feeling helpless.

“You hoped you might return home.” He offered solemnly. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She hadn’t voiced the thought but was still incredibly disappointed. “I am sorry.”

“Me too. But it would have been fucked up to just vanish like that, you’d still be in the dark and in danger.” She said, taking a fortifying breath and blinking away any tears that had welled.

“It was good of you to risk everything for your story. Tamriel and Kvatch owe you a great debt.” Martin was so fucking regal that little weirdo.

“Hey,” She did reach out to touch him this time. “It is a story, I do care about Tamriel, but I came running here like an idiot, lost, scared because of you Martin. Not because you’re the emperor, although that’s important, where I come from we don’t have emperors anymore, or kings! We all vote for the best man for the job, or at least the best we can find.” They both laughed at that, him cheerfully and her scornfully, thinking of how disappointing those men usually turned out to be.

“Doesn’t matter, I came here because you are my friend Martin.” She blushed a little, feeling stupid. He tilted his head slightly like a puppy. “I’ve known you and your story since I was 12. I fought by your side again and again, I came to visit you when you were just a set of lines. I cried over your story so many times. Maybe that’s creepy on top of everything but I would come for you in every dream, in any world, in every game right away.” She smiled stupidly. Martin looked overwhelmed at her words.

“You don’t know me.” He said softly. “You don’t know what I’ve done. Tales of my life would not be fit for children or anyone really.”

“I will know you, if you let me.” Abby offered earnestly. “If you will have me, I’ll go with you on this adventure. You can fill me in on all the things a true friend of yours ought to know.”

“I would very much like to be your friend. We can get to know each other on our way to Weynon Priory.”

Abby spent a very long time explaining why she let out a dismayed groan at his familiar and terrible words.

***************************************

The preparations to leave Kvatch were nothing like the game. Not a damn thing in common except it was possible at the end of this they’d fuck off to Weynon Priory. Instead of immediately fucking off there was work to do.

Savlian convinced them to stay for the push for the count, who was totally dead after over a week of no contact?? But Savlian said they’d need his ring as proof to get assistance from other holds for rebuilding, and he might be tucked away sniveling in a basement full of provisions or worst case a wine cellar on the world's worst bender. Martin clearly agreed with him because he offered to go with right away.

Abby felt like it was probably bad form to rescue the heir to the throne and then abandon him to violence at the next batch of misfortune. So they both went.

The count and all his attendants were very dead. But his ring was recovered and thankfully it seemed to have happened during the invasion and not after in some tragic suicide pact. Also thankfully Savlian didn’t seem to care she was picking through each room they cleared.

There were many cupboards with food, clothing and writing utensils. It became very apparent that she could not store everything in her admittedly impressive backpack and she would have to get picky.

She brought with her dried meats, any rings and coins she found, the nicest ink pen and several changes of clothing. The only point of contention was a fur coat she found.

“Martin, this is the fanciest, softest thing I've ever felt!! It’s going to be cold soon and I’m from Black Marsh.” They had agreed that it was best to use the Nirn equivalent to her home and then on the privacy of the road north to fill her in on all the details. Abby had chosen Black Marsh because she both lived in a swamp and was a maniac who rushed an oblivion gate.

All credit to the argonians even if she had never played that race before.

“You have no need of it and its WHITE Abigail, how will you stay covert dressed like a cloud?” He’d laughed. She stowed it in her pack at the very bottom anyway. He may be the Emperor but she wasn’t a citizen of the Empire.

The other thing she’d taken without exception was any glass potions bottles. Leaving behind anything to rot was foolish when it might be put to use in the encampment of survivors now swelling with the 12 extras from the gate.

She’d also left the castle with three polished smooth bowls and 2 forks. Something for Savlian, she thought sentimentally, no matter where he ends up.

Where he ended up was a point of great debate among the survivors. Klein and a small group at the foot of the mountain wanted him to stay on as Captain of the Guard until someone could be sent to take up the countship. Abby, Martin and everyone with a brain wanted him to take up the mantle of Count, even if only temporarily to coordinate the city's recovery.

“Don’t be stupid Sav!” She’d argued on their second night back, “Why wait and risk the survivors? And also, why do you want some upstart outsider from the Imperial City telling you what’s good for Kvatch? Invite your siblings to come and be your staff and you can totally manage this, at least transitionally.”

Eventually he’d caved because she had good points… and also because they’d come clean about Martin’s parentage and Savlian felt an endorsement from Akatosh’s chosen was valid as fuck.

Little Idiot.

The last thing they had to do before actually resting and setting out was meet Lucus’s parents, both of whom had survived miraculously.

“Evangiline and Hob are farmers and tend to the flocks at night. They don’t always go together but it is birthing season, Lucus stays with us at the temple sometimes. He was with us when the Gate swallowed us.” Martin explained. That was damn lucky. They ought to change their names. Lucus the Lucky

“Abby!!” She’d heard him coming thankfully because he once again bodied her full blast, this time with excitement and not cosmic freefalling. The boy thudded into her arms which closed instinctively around him.

“Archmage Lucus!” She smiled and saw two adults follow him up the hill he’s raced up. “How have you been? Sorry I haven’t seen you since we got back.” She offered.

“Ma and Pa didn’t want me to bother you either,” He waved off her apology and gestured at each parent respectively.

“We owe you more than you can know, Miss.” His father said. “We thought we’d lost him.” He choked up a bit and gestured for his wife to take the lead. Cute that he was the crier.

“Lucus told us everything. He was so close to not making it back. I don’t care who you worship, you have our thanks.” Evangiline said softly.

“Lucus held together better than me sometimes.” Abby smiled awkwardly, “I was going to do everything I could to get him out alive. We were lucky.” Hob reached for Lucus and began to cry even harder at the thought of what could have happened to his boy.

“We owe you.” She said again.

“No need! Encourage his magic talent, help rebuild Kvatch, name your next kid after me.” She winked at Lucus who was barely visible behind his fathers bulk while they all laughed.

“I’m sure you’ll be heading home soon, now you’ve saved our world, if you ever come back through these parts, you have a place to stay with us.” Hob pulled himself together and offered his hand. Abby darted forward to shake it and found herself smothered in a hug with Hob and Lucus who was shaking awkwardly. Abby reached around to pat his back as best she could. When she was finally free some moments later she waved them down the hill and turned to Martin.

“What is with this country and being all grabby? Thorley damn near pulled my arm off yanking me over the fence.” She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like she hated hugs, but she hadn’t had many growing up and preferred lots of physical broadcasting vs surprises.

“Perhpas you are just too easy to move.” Martin said  in an exaggerated pious voice. Abby grinned loving when he was silly. “You must plant yourself in Akatosh to grow sturdy.” He finished also beaming.

“That was wretched, I’m surprised anyone came to your sermons.” She cackled at his mock hurt expression. “Or maybe I’m not.” She gave him a blatant leer and he cackled in surprise.

“You’re wretched.”

“I know.”

*****************************************************************

Abby checked her pack one last time ensuring all the newly collected things were there and that she’d be ready for the trek to Weynon in the morning. She was putting in her new clothes and the replacement hammer Athos had gifted her two days ago, prior to his departure when she saw the journal tucked into the depths.

“Oh.” She said softly, taking it out and rubbing her thumb across the burn mark in the ugly orange corner. The Dunmer was maybe still out there, now rotting. When he should have been here. He should have been rescuing Martin, counseling Savlian, retaking the keep. Would he have found everyone in the gate? Would he have even gone in? The Hero of Kvatch only went in because Martin was in the city trapped behind the gate. Maybe he’d have arrived seen the placement and fucked off to Jaufree right away.

She opened to the next page and took out her pillaged pen.

7 days after the attack at Kvatch

I really need to learn the days of the week here. Martin is okay, I’m okay. The sigil stone closed the gate but didn’t send me home. I know the voice is S. now. Tomorrow Martin and I leave for Weynon Priory with a note for the Countess of Chorrol. Everyday I wake up here feels more solid than the last. I’m struggling to remember some things, probably S’s fault. When we’re on the road I intend to tell Martin everything about the story I remember. This includes his heroic death. There is so much death here. The Dunmer, Cyrille the mother from Kvatch, Annalise who Martin recognized, all the denizens of Kvatch. I’m scared to be next but wonder if I wouldn’t just go home? I’m tired. I don’t want to leave Martin without the HoK. I took someone’s place here. I should do my best to fill these boots until a real hero can come be champion.

Also I punched a daedra.

Abby

She put the book on the barrel to give the ink a moment to dry and turned to look at the scorched gate of Kvatch. Sometimes this was easy, make a joke, do something crazy but familiar from my time playing. Sometimes this was overwhelming, she did not belong here, she wasn’t a hero, she could only scramble to keep Martin safe and the story together.

I don’t belong here.

Perhaps but you are here now, you must continue onward.

Why did you do this to me?

But there was no answer.

“Why do Mad-Men come calling?” She whispered and tried to shake off the fear that crept up her spine.

Notes:

This is a long boi, couldn't figure out where to stop with it. Hope you liked it anyhow.

Chapter 10: Two steps forward, One step back

Summary:

Martin and Abby attempt to make their way on to Weynon Priory.

Notes:

What's Oblivion without a little side questing?

“So you don’t remember your trade?” Martin frowned from where he was walking at Abby’s side.

“Wasn’t as important as it is here. I don’t know, something in unskilled labor.” She shrugged trying not to stress more about the blatant gaps in her memory.

“No labor is unskilled Abigail.” He chided.

“Proletariat Martin Septim.” Abby smiled at him. “I’m more worried about my siblings. I know I have older and younger siblings, I know some were twins. I can remember them talking to me on the voice portal.” They had been talking about her world for a very very long time while on this trek. The two of them had decided to leave Kvatch heading East instead of the exact same way Abby had arrived. In case those who had killed the Dunmer resurfaced. Less likely to be followed or found. It was significantly rockier but only added a day travel time overall to their journey.

“I’m sure that’s frustrating to you.” He said sympathetically. That was something she had learned about him on this trip, Martin was unendingly empathetic. She hadn’t seen him cry yet but she gathered it was only a matter of time. This also unfortunately led to him being a huge ball of anxiety. “I cannot fathom forgetting my family.”

“Will you tell me about them?” Abby huffed and concentrated on her feet as the path they were cutting became steeper and she struggled not to slip.

“Well my father was Uriel Septim, emperor and adulterer it seems.” He snarked and Abby made a noise of annoyance still focused on their walk. “My other father was… distant. I could never please him, but he was also never angry. I fear he truly didn’t care if I failed or succeeded. Tragically he never loved anyone I think. He was a carpenter until he died when I was 19.”

“Maybe he knew?” Abby suggested still picking her way forward carefully.

“Perhaps. I don’t know if Mother was with him at the time or shortly after I was born. She died when I was only 3. She was a bard by trade and I don’t remember much about her except her lovely voice.” Martin had a lovely voice. Perhaps in another life he would have been a bard too.

“Do you sing?”

“Not very much anymore.”

“Maybe someday soon, I know a whole lot of new songs, you’d be credited as the most talented poet king” She laughed. Martin smiled too but didn’t reply.

“Do you play any instruments?” He asked. Abby thought and frowned. More fuzziness. So maybe?

“Not that I know of, stringed stuff is probably hard with the hand” She gestured with her left hand that had the scar across the back of it. “But I think I did?”

Super annoying you couldn’t have downloaded me with a full brain?

I’m talented but I can’t make what’s not there mortal

Urghh. Abby scowled.

“Is he bothering you?” Martin’s voice brought Abby back to their walk and talk.

“No, I was just asking why I’m not all here. I should know if I can play an instrument right?? But he’s apparently the Daedric Prince of smartass replies.” She huffed and readjusted her pack.

“Surely not that’s got to be Clavicus Vile.” Martin teased.

“Perhaps they’ve been training together.”

“Thankfully they and their kin do not get along. I fear we might not survive an alliance of Princes.” Abby and Martin shuddered thinking about that. “I may not survive regardless.” He said, stopping finally to catch his breath and clear sweat from his brow. Somehow, Impossibly he was still in his green priest outfit. Abby was more than happy with a moment to pause and glared at him since he was now facing her.

“I regret telling you you died the first time. I told you I’ll figure it out this time. We’ll write our own script.”

“I trust you.” He said simply.

He couldn’t know how much that meant to her.

**************************************

That evening when they stopped outside of a ruined fort. They watched it as night began to fall for any signs of life but after seeing nothing unusual made camp against the inner stone wall of the tower that likely stood as a watch tower. It had fallen in so many places it was almost not circular any longer but two calls stood and the central pillar stretched proudly to the sky after all these years despite it no longer holding anything.

“What the hell is that?” Martin asked, trying to hold back his giggles. Abby frowned looking at the half a tent she’d taken from the Dunmer. She’d left it with Savlian and the barrel bedroom when she went into oblivion knowing it wasn’t likely to be wet or cold there. And she’d likely die if she slept. Here however, if she had to sleep in the forest, she’d like to avoid the morning wetness if possible.

“Technically it’s half a tent, but I made a weather proof poncho?” She stuck her head through the hole and beamed up at his laughing face. “I cut it from a tent. Figured being rained on would make me even more miserable.” She shrugged this time, taking it off and continuing to arrange it over her body like a sleeping bag.

“You surprise me at every turn Abigail. It is clever, I just wasn't expecting it. Maybe at Weynon Priory we’ll be able to find you a proper tent.” He climbed onto his own bedroll using his traveling bag as a pillow. He shuffled and wiggled a bit before ending up on his side facing her, boyish smile still in place, hair flopping downward across his face and bag comically. Abby wondered at him wedging himself in while wearing his green frock coat. Surely the fabric bunched at some point?

Perhaps pretty people don’t suffer as we mere humans do.

“Keep laughing and I won’t share.” She threatened also borrowing down into her roll. There was silence for a few moments when Abby kicked up and tossed half her tent poncho over to Martin’s side. He made a low hmm of appreciation and tucked it in across his middle. Both his head and feet stuck out of the shared part but at least something would be dry come morning.

Abby tried to calm her breathing and took in the sky above them. It was partially obscured by a bush growing out of the wall above them but if she turned her head a vast expanse of stars was visible. Bright and completely strange. She really only knew one constellation from back home but it was easy to find, bright and familiar. Never far from her.

“I was born under this star” His voice soft as ever startled her a bit and she turned to look at him awkwardly. His eyes were wide but watching the sky as she’d been. He reached for her hand and guided her view and fingers across the sky. “She starts here and then goes like this.” Their joined hands traced across the sky and Abby could just picture the four stars he was using as turning points.

“I always wanted to be born under the Warrior, or maybe the Lover when I was away.” He let his hand drop from hers back to his side of the poncho. “But perhaps there is a reason I was born under the Lady that we will yet discover.”

Abby let her eyes trace the four points as best she could without him. The Lady. She was under new stars, yes, but not alone as she had previously thought. Many many things were different but people still drew pictures in the sky. Pictures that had ancient stories to go with them. Navigated by the lights above.

She was asleep faster than she realized face turned up toward Martin’s stars.

*********************************

When Abby woke the next morning she was perfectly warm. Snuggled tightly in the comfort of sleep and her bedroll and tent. As she awoke more fully she realized she was also snuggled tightly into Martin.

Or rather he was snuggled into her. She was still flat on her back chin pointed toward The Lady but Martin had abandoned his satchel pillow and was crowded onto hers. One of his hands was fisted tightly in the fabric beneath her and the other was folded back to support his head, and his legs were tossed between her own, one under and one over. His breath was still steady so Abby took this to mean he was unconscious.

Martin Septim is a cuddler.

There hadn’t been much space between them when they laid down, sharing the poncho, and their warmth by the wall. But Martin had closed every millimeter of it in the night and was breathing steadily into her hair.

This would be nice to wake up to each morning.

Except that she really needed to pee. She took a deep breath trying to push away the need for a few moments longer. She only lasted a minute more before she tried to gently extricate herself. Martin it seemed was also fast waker because his eyes snapped open.

“Oh,” He half rolled back, releasing her to scramble up.

“I don’t mind, it was nice, I have to pee” She said quickly and scurried away.

When she returned he was still in his bedroll now back on his own pillow bag hand on his slightly flushed face looking upward.

“Morning sunshine.” She smiled and dropped to her knees in the fabric.

“I’m sorry, It’s been a long time since I slept beside someone. I didn’t mean to..” He trailed off as Abby arranged herself back down under the tent but not in her bag. She held up her arm expectantly.

“Sokay Martin, you are very warm.” He obliged and slid into her arm facing away. “I’ll tell you if you make me uncomfortable, do you trust me to do that?”

“You would not lie to save face?” He asked.

“No, I will not spare your feelings.” She agreed, voice muffled by his hair. He laughed at her words or the feeling she wasn’t sure.

“You’re not just doing this for the emperor?”

“Martin, you're not my emperor.”

“I don’t think you know how an empire works Abigail.”

“Just settle down and be the little spoon.”

“The emperor is NOT the little spoon.”

“What do you call this?”

“I am.. Providing a piggy back.” He grumbled this last bit out and Abby had to shove her face into his shoulder blades toward the ground to hide her howling laughter.

“You wretch.” He said fondly, reaching to hold her hand while she laughed at him.

After a little while longer of lounging and chatting they packed up their belongings, Martin confessing the poncho tent wasn’t a terrible idea as he stowed it in his bag which was much lighter. They readied themselves and began the walk down the hill north to Jaufree.

They made it exactly 20 minutes before they were disrupted. A lean dark elf jumped from behind a tree a few feet in front of them, bow drawn and pointing directly at them.

“Stop right there.” He ordered in a sinister voice. “I’ll take your packs please and thank you, you give me your bags, I’ll let you pass. These woods are mine, see?” He said nodding at their bags.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Martin began, not moving to take off the bag.

“I bet you don’t seeing as how I’m the one with a weapon and you're the idiot that walked into my trap.” He snarled and the wood of his bow creaked with the additional force he applied.

“Okay,” Abby said and slowly shrugged off her bag. “Now what?” She wasn’t sure but she suspected this wasn’t her first time being robbed. It’s annoying but her instincts were telling her to let him have whatever he wanted, they could always steal it back later. Martin followed suit frowning at their predicament. The elf hesitated.

Perhaps this was his first time robbing someone.

This was actually a terrible place to rob someone, remote, not near any roads, rivers, or other traversable places merchants or adventurers would frequent enough to make a profit in robbery.

“Toss them over there and back up” He finally declared and gestured to the left in the tall grass. His shakiness also likely meant he was alone. Abby gently tossed her pack hoping her meticulous packing had saved any potions from splitting, although she’d yet to see any cracked vials in her time here. Martin’s pack joined it and almost as soon as it hit the ground the elf had moved over to it.

He really is bad at this.

He wasn't as bad at it Abby initially thought because he snagged the straps on both bags and hauled ass away from the deer path, that may actually have been a bandit path on further introspection.

“Well that’s unfortunate.” Martin huffed rolling his shoulders as if he was free of a great weight instead of a few hard tack biscuit pucks, a spare set of robes and Abby’s poncho. Abby rolled her eyes at him,

“We’re not letting him have them right?” She said moving to see around the tree he’d vanished behind. The underbrush swayed from his disturbance but she couldn’t see him.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Martin said confused, “We can forage enough between here and there to survive. It’s not worth our lives.”

“Martin!! Get real! That guy was totally new to theft! Why would he be staking out this random mountain trail on the off chance two people were walking it?? He’s probably alone out here and scared shitless. Let's see if we can follow him and get back our stuff. The waterskins and my journal at the very least!” She wasn’t going to let all her hard work run off with the first NCP rude enough to challenge her. A part of her also felt attached to the pack and journal she’s taken from the other Hero of Kvatch. If that was gone then what was there to remember him by? That he was real, and he had tried to do the right thing. His voice would be lost with the journal.

“I’m not agreeing to robbing him, but maybe he’s camped nearby.” Martin conceded, gesturing to her to go first.

“It’s not robbing him if he stole it from us!”

“Let us hope he is alone.” was the only thing the future ruler had to say.

Abby was able to track him a bit in the underbrush but they arrived at a parallel path shortly after, perhaps an actual dear path, and she had to use her guiding spell to find him. The light darted up back the way they had been walking toward the ruins. They exchanged a look.

“Maybe the fort wasn’t as empty as we thought.” Martin frowned watching the light jet back and forth between the heading and Abby’s legs.

“Lets just look, any sign of others we give up.” She had no intention of giving up on that journal and Martin’s face said he didn't believe her words. He let her lead anyway.

The thief and the light chasing him lead them not to the fort they’d camped in thankfully but to an actual camp, with four tents staked outside a rough wooden door. Martin and Abby crouched side by side in the underbrush to watch him. Abby felt a bit like a racer crouched before the shot but she wasn’t a runner nor terribly balanced so Martin reached out to steady her all while looking ahead.

Graceful asshole, she thought and ended up moving to kneel instead.

Their thief was sitting on a stump orange journal in one hand a half eaten tack biscuit in the other reading in disbelief. Abby grimaced, maybe she should learn a code to write that thing in, because he may have read the entry from the dunmer with Martin’s parentage and be a danger, or he may have read her little “I know the future” bitch fest and neither were something an amateur highwayman should know.

“Do you see any others?” Martin whispered mouth very very close to her ear. She shook her head, but she also hadn’t been looking. “Did you even look, Abigail?” He chuckled. Abby turned her head to look at him and saw he was watching her rather than the Dunmer they’d tracked.

She moved her mouth to his ear the way he’d done hers and whispered.

“Don’t call me Abigail.”

They shared a look and turned back to watch the Dark Elf thief, who was no longer on the stump.

Damnable Distracting Beautiful Bastard

Careful, mortal, your crazy is showing.

The Dark Elf thankfully was not sneaking up on them and after another moment or two they relaxed again. He may have gone inside, She thought, raising to a crouch to see if she could spot the familiar orange book near his abandoned seat. Martin also rose from his low crouch ready to move.

Abby nodded to him and they darted between two tents closest to the forest, this would give them cover from the door if it opened and hopefully from any of his companions that might be patrolling. The froze, listening intently, but strain as she tried Abby could only hear the ambient sounds of nature.

Easier when fight music plays eh?

His voice should have been a warning in and of itself should have been a warning to her but instead the first signs of actual combat were a misfired arrow from the hiding thief and a startled Abby leaping a foot in the air and crashing back down into the tent beside her. Martin swore just as colorfully as her while pulling her from the haphazard cloth enclosure toward the cave door. Smart cover one side of us entirely

It turned out to be a lucky guess as well because their twice attacker once thief decided to drop off the sheer ledge above them a good 8 feet to the ground. He did land it pretty well considering the distance, hand full of bow and having to carefully pick his way around camping detritus that covered the area. Adrenaline pumping Abby took full advantage of the tricky landing he made to rush forward and swing on him.

“OUCH! You filthy swit!” Her fist collided with his nose and he dropped his bow to clutch at his bleeding face. Not pausing to let him collect himself she swung again and he dropped heavily to the ground out silent and unmoving.

“Well that was exciting.” Martin signed and toed over the sleeping man to see if he was still breathing. He still was, which left the problem of what to do with him? Abby’s eyes lighted on yet another tent she had ruined and shrugged.

“That’ll work.” and without explanation she stepped over him to fetch the rope that had previously secured it. With a few hardy tugs it followed her out of the wreckage and over to the dark elf with the broken nose. She held it out to Martin who helped her sit him upright and secure him.

“Should we wake him?” He asked after tugging the ropes one last time.

“Not yet, let’s collect our things and be ready to run beforehand. Besides, we don't know if he has friends coming back.” Martin agreed and they both set about collecting their gear. Thankfully only Abby’s bag had been unpacked. She was able to toss the orange book in and pull out her medium length knife.

Martin made to reshoulder his bag but Abby held out a hand and turned to the camp quickly searching the area for things to take with them. Martin scoffed when she stuck her head into the remaining tent and tossed a shirt and smaller purse at him. It sounded like it had money in it but also left a streak of garlic smell when she threw it. She entered the other tents and only ended up taking another small bag that had only money in it and the smallest lightest pan the campfire had.

All these things were tossed into an exasperated Martin’s sack before she turned to the still unconscious elf. Her eyes traced his body and she noticed he had a ring on his thumb and his boots were a bit nicer than hers. She held her foot to his in a quick test and figured it looked close enough. His ring came free quickly and slid onto her own finger, enchanted for sure, as it kicked power into her body.

She tied his boots to her bag beside her bedroll, planning to try them on later.

Finally satisfied with their take she looked at the unimpressed emperor.

“Are you satisfied you wretched little goblin?” He smirked, arms crossed.

“ I could clear the cave but I figured you were in a hurry.” She shrugged.

“Gods knock me out again if you're planning to flirt more.” a throaty voice said from below them. They started seeing their captive had awakened.

“That could be arranged, you know.” She glowered, pulling his collar to sit him upright again.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” He demanded annoyed at the manhandling, annoyed at the flirting, and just irritable in general. “I would have preferred it quickly if it’s all the same to you.”

“I’m sure you would but seeing as how I’m the one not tied up and your the idiot who is, I’ll be making the calls here.” Abby was lying her pasty newly reincarnated ass off. She had zero desire to kill this man. From the comfort of her sofa neither of them would have stopped until one party lay dead.

Here they’d already fought and surrendered. Killing him now would just be casual murder.

“I don’t care to kill him.” Abby looked to Martin for ideas. Unfortunately Martin appeared to be looking at her for the same. “Can’t let him go, or he’ll follow us and try to rob us again.” She mused.

“HEY! I did actually rob you thanks” He snarled unhappily.

That solidifies if it was his first robbery

“Oh yea, why did you do that? It was a stupid ass plan. And don’t say something dumb like you’re a highwayman.” She threatened holding up a fist.

The elf’s face pinched briefly in annoyance or a grimace then winced as he had wrinkled his assaulted nose.

He was kind of an idiot huh?

How annoying she loved idiots.

“Fine! Okay! I really AM a bandit. My crew and I have been hiding out here for a few weeks, We raided a ship on the Brena headed to Hammerfell and needed to stay out of sight for a while. A few days ago, maybe 10? Three of them left to get supplies, we’re thieves, pirates at best, not hunters.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Trip should only take a few days, around day 5 the others went after them. I stayed to guard everything. I was hungry when I heard you walking by. Figured a quick shakedown would last me until they got back. But I read your book.” He nodded at the book and his red eyes met her own. Abby’s mind flashed to the last pair of red eyes she’d seen, dead unknowing he was dead.

“Is it true about Kvatch?” He asked voice steady even as he braced for bad news.. She nodded and his eyes closed. “Shit.” he breathed.

“Okay, here’s what we should do.” Martin spoke and all eyes turned to him. “I’ll write a letter as if I was your crew’s chief, something to prove you found the stolen shipment. You head back toward Anvil where they’re likely looking for the pirates, and have them help you ‘recover’ the goods. Lie, tell them how you defeated them all, saw them eaten by a bear, whatever you want. You get back to town, you become a hero, maybe join the sailors as protection.” He shrugged. Abby felt her jaw dropped with every suggestion. It was a good plan. It was a devious plan. It was kinda hot he came up with that on the spot?

“We can give you a few days worth of provision and we’ll go our separate ways now, without looting the cave,” He glared at Abby. She held her hands up as if she wasn’t still considering it.

“Can I have my boots back?” was the only reply the idiot had.

“Fuck no.”

“Yes”

**********************************************************

They ended up writing the note for him on a carefully cut out page from her journal. Martin wrote it making up fake names of bandits and bandit recipients, and set it on the stump seat beside the two days worth of provisions and Martin’s waterskin. It was the smaller of the two and he was nicer than Abby who’d wanted to give him dry biscuits and scorn.

Abby did take his boots but left hers, which were a very close fit but a little more worn out. He’d pouted about this the entire time before Abby threatened to take his pants also and have him walk to Anvil in the buff. Martin and Abby also folded up one of the unbroken tents, the smallest that Martin was overly confident he could set up again when they stopped for the night.

“Sorry about your nose.” Abby said in parting before they knocked him out again. They untied his sleeping form and jogged steadily away hoping he would keep to the plan and not follow them for petty revenge.

They had traveled at the swift jog for about an hour before Martin called for a break and threw himself to the ground wearily.

“Must be some enchantment for you to not even be sweating.” He said, taking a sip of the water. Abby tried not to linger on on his lips or the way his tongue chased the water droplets down his chin. She realized Martin had been looking at her hand, which held the newly pilfered ring.

“Maybe! I didn’t even notice it.” She slipped it off and passed it to him. There was a discernible difference in wearing it and not that was certain.

“An Athletic enchantment perhaps? You and he were very fast when wearing it.” He studied it closely.

“That would explain how he got back to camp in time for a snack and a read.” She agreed. “What about this one?!” She remembered the other hand and ring found in Oblivion. And offered it to him.

Martin did not take this one off her hand and instead grabbed her hand in his much larger calloused ones. Abby was glad she hadn’t been drinking or she might have snorted the water.

“An acrobatic enchantment.” He said finally. “And a peculiar lightning shaped scar.” His fingers brushed over the back of her hand where her wrist had a light purple jagged cut.

“They took out a bone.” She said confidently. “I don’t remember why, but I was done by doctors, and healed quickly.” He didn’t say anything but swept his fingers along it once more before passing back her speedy ring.

“Hey Martin, What happens if I were to wear an enchanted ring on each of my fingers?” She asked, returning the ring to its finger and waggling the rest of her digits to emphasize their emptiness.

“ Magical resonance overload, think of each ring providing energy to the body, to put ten paths of energy on and active at one time, you would suffer an overload quickly. I would stick with 2 maybe 3 if you have a weak enchantment as you look Breton or at least part of it.”

“Damn I always wondered.” She said dejectedly. But her thoughts raced with the new information he gave. “What about toe rings?”

“What is a toe ring?”

“Gods it's like talking to a grandfather!”

“I loathe you.”

I love you

I love you

Chapter 11: And We're Walking...

Notes:

everyone is whatever age I say because why not?

The funny thing about it was that for every ten things that were different, twenty more in Cyrodiil were the exact same. The two that stood out to Abby most on this trip were the abundance of the forest, she had trailed behind Martin Emma’s book on plants out holding illustrations next to flower after flower. She was left equal parts frustrated and delighted as they found less and less matches on the walk north but every plant she matched to her book felt like a victory. She had a few blossoms wrapped carefully in the fabric Livet had given her after Martin confirmed she wasn’t making a botanical blunder that might kill them both.

The other thing that was exactly the same as the game was that every cave, crumbling ruin, ancient landmark and crevice in the fucking country was fill of people and critiers. They had been walking two days since parting ways with Elnaril, the clumsy highway man, and every place they had stopped at or even passed by was teeming with life. They had passed another fort near nightfall and paused to see if it would be safe for sleeping.

The inhabitants were quick to make themselves seen and Abby had been horrified to see her first undead.

“Oh that’s so freaky!!” She whispered eyes trained on the skeleton who turned slowly watching the horizon. He looked like a watchman who never retired. “How do they move without muscles?” She asked Martin.

“Magic.” Martin said shortly. Abby had frowned.

“Come on, I'm not asking for necromancy lessons, I'm just curious!” She pleaded. Martin motioned her to follow him on, away from the tower.

“I appreciate you thinking I know everything Abigail but I don’t know. I assume the body had enough magic in it, or maybe the land, or maybe a ritual. That once he was just bones he rose again to guard his home.” He shrugged, finding a fallen tree sufficiently far from the fort to make camp at.

“You do know everything!! How’d you know Elnaril’s name then?” She challenged helping him unfold their captured tent and waited patiently for direction. Martin had been reaching up to hook the tent rope over one of the roots that were skyward when she said this and looked back at her sharply and awkwardly. Abby giggled at his incredulous look from under his armpit.

“He told us!”

“No way!”

“Yes!!! Before we left he said it.”

“How did I miss that?!” She said in surprise, Martin was being serious so he must have really said it. Martin plucked the side of the tent she was holding and staked it to the ground in an improvised lean-to.

“It helps that I know everything,” He said when straightening up with a smirk.

“Except how to pitch a tent.”

“Go to bed!”

******************************

The day after the robbery they’d passed an Aylid ruin with bandit look outs, a small hollow den with a family of foxes and a cave with vicious growling coming from inside. They had to make a run for it at one point because of a mountain lion as well. Tamriel was alive if not well.

“Thank Gods we haven’t seen any of the bears Thorley was worried about!” Abby exclaimed after they’d escaped. Martin had leaned against a tree and unbuttoned the front of his green cassock to let in air. He glowered something fearsome at her mention of other possible predators that might make them run again. She gave a sheepish grin but shrugged.

“I need a moment before we continue. Don't invite any creatures to eat you please.” He said and moved away for privacy.

You could eat me she smiled at the dirt picturing Martin flushing at that, or maybe rolling his eyes. His wicked smile or even his little guilty one when he realized he was being “brazen”. Romanticizing your travel buddy who was currently shitting in the woods was a wild new experience.

She shook her head trying to think of something besides Martin.

Good luck

“Ready to move onward Abigail?” Her mind had evidently wandered enough because he appeared back in front of her. Abby’s eyes took in the feast before her. Martin had taken the top part of his robes off and tied the arms around his middle so he looked like he was wearing a long green skirt and the shirt she’d given him in Oblivion. He’d looked lovely then, even covered in grime, clannfear camouflage and sweat and now he was downright sinful.

His arms were now clean and she could see the light blond hair that covered the muscles above his elbow and vanished under the shirt. She could see the flex of his forearms as he gripped his pack and waited for her to continue. She’d seen his hands before, even in the full green getup they were visible, but somehow his fingers looked even longer and she remembered how much bigger they were than her own as he held them to guide her to trace the stars. And the middle of the shirt split to a much lower point than his robes but still very decent. She could see his collar bone and the hint of darker chest hair disappearing downward. He was a vision. He was effortlessly attractive, he was looking at her with amusement.

She jumped to her feet and ended up biting her tongue.

“Oh Abigail.” He signed, shaking his head wryly.

“Sorry.” She said quickly. “Not for looking but for making you uncomfortable.” She shook her head again feeling like a wet dog attempting to fling thoughts of Martin from her like water from fur. Neither were terribly successful.

“Don’t apologize.” Was all he had to say.

They continued on making much more progress than the day before and finally coming upon a clearing with a camp in the center. It had a fire blazing and maybe half a dozen men and women chatting happily around the fire.

Abby tried to squint in the low light to see if they were bandits or something equally unpleasant. She really couldn't see anything looking in at them against the fire’s light.

“This one wonders if you will join us or continue to spy?” A voice that was absolutely not Martin said very close to her. Abby whipped around and was surprised to see the biggest god damn khajiit she’d ever seen.

That’s the only khajiit you’ve ever seen

Well he’s bigger than any in the game that’s for sure!

And he really was. Even crouched he was as tall as her and just below Martin’s height who was beside her and also gaping at the large cat.

“Uhhh Hey Warm Sands.” She said stupidly. Bright white canines, felines?, flashed in a fast pleased grin. At least she assumed he was pleased because he made a faint humming sound at her words. Purring perhaps? “We weren’t being weird, we just wanted to make sure you weren’t bandits.” She said, flushing at having been caught.

“That’s racist”

“That’s racist”

That IS racist

Martin snapped out of stupor to give her a stern look agreeing with the Khajiit and Mad God that she’d said something frowned upon.

“Fuck sorry, I didn’t mean you! Obviously I didn’t see you, and there aren’t any Khajiit’s over there right? I’m not racist just stupid.” She couldn’t stop herself. She just heard herself say the worst possible recovery effort and grimaced.

“Forgiven.” He stood to his full height which put Martin at his sternum. “This one does want to steal from you.” All of his teeth were visible in the wide smile he gave as he towered over the two of them. “Steal away your breath.” He finished lamely and suddenly his grin wasn’t so frightening and instead looked pleased with his terrible flirt.

“Please do so I can stop talking.” She smiled back. He made a low kuff kuff sound that was laughter and purring?

“Come along smooth-skin. This one will introduce you to the rest of the bandits.” Abby flinched but followed him out of the underbrush Martin clinging to her side. “This one has found guests.” He called out to his friends who turned to welcome him home and inspect his discoveries.

“They are afraid of thieves and yet do not travel on the roads.” He sniggered. “And might be racist.”

“I’M NOT RACIST!!” Abby protested. They all shot her amused looked. “Okay I did say something racist but it wasn’t on purpose. Lesson learned, meet a khajiit, forget the word bandit!” She felt bad but also panicked. She really hadn’t meant anything by it.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” a wood-elf woman with thick red hair braided on her head said, “they are all bandits” The group howled with laughter as the gargantuan Khajiit hissed his displeasure ears flattening a little.

“But what’s a cute couple like you two doing out here?” Asked another of their party, a tan imperial wearing a headband, from his place in the mouth of a tent.

We’re a cute couple

Focus Mortal

“Truthfully we’re lost.” Martin gave a brilliant sheepish smile not correcting them about the two of us. “We were traveling from Kvatch to see my father in Hackdirt.” He and everyone present grimaced at the name of the town. “I know, I know, but Abigail’s from Black Marsh. She was insistent on meeting my family, and doesn’t believe me about the city.” Abby frowned disapprovingly at Martin. She remembered Hackdirt vaguely as a tiny town with a fetch quest for an Argonian with very rude people, not someplace she’d call a destination. Only a family could bring someone from outside the twisted town to the doorsteps. Family, deep psychosis or an intense love of mining, she supposed.

“If he’s your father Martin I want to meet him, no matter how unruly you say he is.” She simpered knowing full well she’d never meet either of Martin’s actual fathers.

“Good way to tell if she’s serious about you.” The wood elf smiled at Martin in a way that made a flash of irritation jet through Abby. “Hackdirt would chase off anyone.”

“Took a shortcut my Dad wrote to me about, turn north at Shardrock save a little time instead of around the forest and then down in. But..” Martin raised a hand to rub his neck and Abby wasn’t the only one looking at his form as he flexed it.

“We’re lost.” Abby finished with a grin. “It’s been fun so I don’t mind.” She shrugged, stepping closer to Martin’s side. His arm came down from his neck around her pulling her even closer. He was very very warm.

“You’ve come too far West.” The Imperial nodded to the others and Abby got the distinct impression his approval meant they had a place to stay for the night. They had been deemed not a threat. “You can set up with us tonight and tomorrow we’ll guide you to the path you’re dad mentioned. I think I know it.” He motioned to a narrow space between two of the already pitched tents that looked like it would fit their bedrolls barely.

“We’d appreciate that!” Abby beamed and shucked her pack to begin pulling out everything for the night. Martin set to tent making right away as if dismissed on a serious mission. His serious mission ended with Abby’s suspicion that he didn’t know how to pitch a tent confirmed. She tried not to laugh outright at his expressions of utter confusion when the tent was somehow STILL in the wrong direction after copious turning for a new corner. She was strongly reminded of fitted sheets.

“Do you need help, love?” She offered with a smile. Martin had one moment were he looked like he might refuse before sighing heavily and acquiescing. “Where do you want me?” She smiled, holding both hands out ready to be commanded. Because she honestly had no idea how to set up a tent either. Maybe back home in a green monstrosity with 100 poles but not here with 3 ropes, a sheet of fabric and two pegs. Might as well be wizardry.

They fumbled for another twenty minutes before he had magically constructed something they could crawl under. The others were merely watching and not intervening while they struggled. The entire group seemed content to ignore them except Raz whose gleaming dark eyes traced their movements around camp.

“Well goodnight!” Abby said before crawling into the tent with her pack and scooting as close as she dared to the wall. It was standing now but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t collapse on them if it was nudged too much. There was some soft discussion outside the tent before Martin also crawled in trying to mind his knees and elbows and not concuss her.

It was a close call.

But eventually they were both tucked in beside each other close enough to see their entire faces but close enough that Abby could feel Martin’s exhales.

“I would never make you go to Hackdirt” She whispered smiling. He huffed.

“I would not take you to meet my fathers.” He smirked as Abby’s face fell. “Because they are both dead.” He muttered. Perhaps it was the extreme stress of camping, robbery, trips into hell and the general fuckery of finding herself in Tamriel but Abby could not contain her giggles. Martin smiled at her chuckling at her hysteria.

Abby’s sides hurt from laughing so much, she was undoubtedly red faced and ugly and was gasping deep breaths of air trying to calm down or at least keep her sound down. Martin eventually pulled her into his chest to stifle the laughter humming softly and petting her hair and arm.

When she finally stopped laughing she realized she was crying and so damn tired. Her limbs felt unevenly heavy weighting down the rest of her body. She took another deep breath, breathing in the smell of Martin’s body and sweat. It wasn’t a good smell by any standard but she still liked it.

Simp, she thought critically annoyed with herself.

“Better?” he asked softly. She nodded. “We should not stop in Hackdirt even for our cover story.” The hand on her head had paused but the other was still casually tracing her arm. “You should avoid any signs of daedra, the Mad-God likely won’t rest until he’s concluded whatever plans he has for you.”

“Good pep talk.” She whispered to his chest, closing her eyes.

Rest didn’t come easily for either of them that night.

*********************************************

The Khajiit Raz started them awake the next morning by lifting their entire tent off the ground and exposing the cuddling pair to the sky. Martin woke first glaring at the group surrounding them.

“Rise and shine, walker!” He crooned. “You have slept in very late, this one has been awake for hours!” He added gently placing down their tent to the side. It seemed the others had packed up because his placement of their tent would have been in another only a few hours earlier.

“Raz! You’re being a naughty kitty!” The wood elf, Elania, scolded hands on her hips. Raz’s ears folded again but he had succeeded in waking Abby and Martin so his mission was still accomplished.

“Good morning.” Abby muttered and sat up rubbing her eyes. It was so odd to wake up and be able to see. Once she remembered her glasses she found herself remembering them or missing the routine of them at random times. “Give us 10, we'll be ready.” Martin had already sunk back into their bedrolls clearly having low intentions of being ready in 10 minutes.

Abby was up, dressed and folding up their tent awkwardly by the time Martin was upright for the morning. The others were watching them and even though the night had passed without incident Abby was still anxious under their curious eyes.

“You make a good team,” Elania commented as Martin did a last minute sweep of their area spying a wayward pen that had escaped their bags in the night. Abby’s smile was genuine at least, because she liked the idea that they were a pair. And a pair that complemented each other. Rather than a reluctant heir and impromptu hero.

“Let’s be off.” the Imperial whose name Abby hadn’t caught said. He was clearly in charge. Or at least the bossiest and therefore de facto boss. Their group set off west, the sun at their backs.

So it does rise in the East here! She thought triumphantly.

After that her thoughts were mostly filled with the physicality of their hike. Despite traversing further east and largely downhill, the walk was still difficult for Abby. Even if she had lived in a state with lots of hills or mountains she doubted she’d have spent any amount of time among them. She definitely preferred to see nature on the television verses in person.

What a lovely contraption that television.

Seriously, what kind of asshole remembers television but not their family?

She really wanted to bitch to Martin about the bizarre unfairness of it all but their company didn’t allow for talk of missing “Black Marsh”.

Thankfully they soon were on a rough cart path that traveled North to South and pausing to part ways.

“Traveling north on this road will lead you into Hackdirt.” The Imperial said, “We’re continuing on here to the east.” He didn’t offer anything further and Abby didn’t really want to ask but Martin’s body language was suddenly stiff and awkward, so she kind of wanted to ask.

“Thanks for setting us to rights and letting us camp with you!” Abby beamed and tucked herself into Martin’s side again for their ruse and also to provide him comfort from whatever was suddenly bothering him. “Save travels! Warm Sands!” She waved at Raz who was chuckling and shaking his head again already traveling on. The others followed him but Raz remained visible for the longest time.

“Come this is the right way.” Martin extracted himself from her quickly. Abby didn’t want to feel hurt, it was a joke, something to give them a reason to be out here.

It wasn’t real.

All of this is real

Shut up!

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Abby asked after reveling in silence for an hour on the cart path. Martin had slowed from his aggressive forward march away from the campers but still seemed off.

“To the east of this road is a daedric shrine.” He said eventually.

“I thought that didn’t really bother you? I mean surely talking to Sheogorath is worse than casual worship?” She questioned trying to reconcile the complete shift in his mood.

“My!! I mean HIS shrine.” He glared. “I don’t know how they didn’t recognize me, we were very lucky they must be new.”

OH!!! Sanguine’s shrine must have been in the direction they were headed! So was the Imperial City, but they likely would have mentioned it if that was their destination rather than remain vague.

“Ah, Well sorry.” She said stupidly. Martin rolled his eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

“It’s not your fault Abigail.”

“You can have this one because you’re upset.” She narrowed her eyes. Martin gave a surprised snort and tension bled from his shoulders.

“How generous,” he said sarcastically. “I feel as if Sheogorath is keeping me company and not you.” He shook his head. “I feel stupid for not realizing where we were. I feel stressed beyond comprehension by this journey, the days before, the news.” He waved a hand as if swatting away flies and not “the news” he was the rightful ruler of Tamriel.

“That’s pretty normal Martin! I’d be more worried if you were totally fine.” Abby swung her pack around to pull two tack biscuits out for their midday lunch.

“I also feel a tiny bit, upset? They didn’t recognize me? After all that happened, everything I did, all those acolytes sent to me in Kvatch and the next group has no idea who I am? I was his champion! I can’t believe he’s given up the chase.” He confessed. Abby hummed thoughtfully around her chewy mouthful of food.

“I am a fool.” He said morosely stuffing his face with the biscuit.

“You are not!” Abby rolled her eyes. “That’s all perfectly normal break up stuff! This is more stress than anyone should have to deal with and I bet you’ve never dealt with whatever traumatic thing made you leave Sanguine.” She poked his arm to emphasize and maybe budge him out of his melancholy.

“I don’t want to..” he began.

“I don’t want to know today!” She said quickly. “I just meant you will probably always have mixed feelings about it until you deal with whatever happened. How long ago did you leave that he was sending sanguinites to Kvatch for you?” She asked curiously. Abby wondered if Martin Septim the video game character had to deal with that too prior to the invasion.

“Ten years.” He said darkly. Abby gasped in shock which led to her promptly choking on her saliva. Martin pounded her back expression still pinched.

“Okay yea that’s a hot minute.” She finally gasped, getting air flowing again. “Ten years at Kvatch?” He nodded silently. “Fuck Martin, all that shit we talked about AND your home was invaded. You can be a little moppy about your crazy life. No judgement here.” She was a little baffled. How devoted was Martin that Sanguine was still chasing him a decade after his defection?

“You are very generous and ignoring that you are in a new world, away from all you know and love.” He drew her from her compilation.

“I know a good bit!” She protested with a smile. Martin’s gaze was sharp and pointed. “And not all I love.” She winked.

Martin Septim, Champion of Sanguine and the one that got away for the Prince of Debauchery blinked in surprise at being flirted with and blushed so prettily.

Okay I see why he was chased for 10 years.

You’ve no idea.

SHUT UP

“Oh Abigail.” He hid his face behind his hands.

********************************

They camped off the trail south of Hackdirt, having seen the city in the distance and back traced some to find a spot further away. Neither were interested in the inhospitable residence or daedric activity rumored there.

Their time was without incident and both fell into a quick, deep, sleep after the physically demanding and emotionally trying day. They woke in the early morning mist and made their way around the tiny town and both grew excited at the prospect of a night at Weynon Priory. Abby had already warned him they would arrive to a battle and their priorities would be split.

Martin was to head to Jauffre in the chapel and lend a hand, as he was vastly outnumbered in game. Abby was going to try and head to the main building and try and stop the theft of the Amulet of Kings. Privately she was also going to try and save Prior Maborel, the kind clergy whose horse the Hero took permanently after his death.

A free horse was nice but she’d always lamented his death, and the way his digital corpse stayed outside face down near the entrance to Weynon Priory. They had discussed the plan to divide and conquer the night at camp. They both agreed it made sense but, maybe they were trauma bonding, neither really wanted to abandon the other to danger.

It’s the smartest plan, she reassured herself for the hundredth time.

Ultimately the choice was made for them as when they finally, finally, crested the hill to Weynon Priory the sight that met their eyes was a red cloaked figure looming over a kneeling figure in brown.

“Fuck” She normally loved hearing Martin swear but all she felt in that moment was panic. Abby took a huge gulp of air and felt desperation overtake her. She fell back to old reliable and screamed bloody murder.

“PRIOR MABOREL!!”

Chapter 12: Weynon Priory part 1

This action shit is for the birds. She thought absently as she hauled ass as fast as she could toward the crime in progress. Abby kept her head to the ground watching her steps as she propelled herself forward faster than she at home ever could have dreamed.

She collided very soon with the cultish assailant tackling his now armor clad from into the wall. As soon as he heard her scream he’d begun conjuring his infamous Mythic Dawn set up and she had to admit in person it was very intimidating.

His goofy cry of “Ooofff” like a true Oblivion NPC was not very intimidating however. And the girly cry he gave as he was struck even less so. Abby had pinned him to the wall with the force of her motion and Prior Maborel, who had survived for now, turned and brained him with a trowel. The spiked helmet protected him from serious injury or death but he was quickly incapacitated by Abby and the Prior’s relentless blows. Fake it till you make it, She punched at him again feeling a rush of relief when he sank unmoving to the ground. Maborel in a very un-priest like action stomped his fallen form until a sickening crack reverberated and Abby was sure the assassin would never move again.

“Go to Jauffre!” She barked and moved toward the building that looked most like the house in game. The Prior wasn’t very good at listening to directions because he followed her in. Stranger Danger, she supposed. As if she hadn’t just saved him. The inside of the house was dimly lit by a fire, all the windows on this level closed tightly. Maybe an effort to prevent thieves? Evidently a fruitless effort as Abby heard Maborel swear and run toward the staircase.

Abby followed hot on his heels.

The secret room was at least considerably more secret than in Oblivion. Rather than a huge room and wide entrance the book case that was open was two feet across. Abby wouldn’t have fit without turning in any body she’d possessed so far. The thief also didn’t fit, and Abby saw as she arrived at the top massive black hind legs of a familiar Khajiit.

As they arrived upstairs he withdrew from the room clutching a wooden chest that looked impossibly small in his paws.

“Raz?!!” Abby exclaimed. Raz’s ears flattened to his head and he made a low groan sound. Prior Maborel seemed shocked at the size of the cat before him, Abby had felt the same yesterday.

“This one wishes you had not found him.” He moaned in annoyance.

“What the fuck you said you weren’t a bandit!” She snapped stupidly feeling weirdly betrayed by the cat.

“This one is a thief.” He moved backward away from both of them. He opened the window behind him and tossed the chest out of it, glass shattering outward. “It is different than a bandit!” He said cheekily

“Raz please don’t do this! This is bigger than I can explain. You’ll be in real danger if you take that!” She begged, moving forward to try and stop him. Raz wasn’t wearing red, or conjured armor. He was honestly still in the same get up form when they parted ways the day before. He didn’t listen however and pushed her backward with comic ease and climbed half way out of the window he’d shattered.

“This one really didn’t want to steal from you.” He said as if that made it all better and then launched himself out of the window.

“My Gods! He was big!” Maborel exclaimed finally back in action. He rushed to the window poking his head through. Abby followed just in time to see Raz disappear into the treeline down the hill from the Prior. She hadn’t seen him take it from the cracked wooden chest but it seemed the Amulet was gone.

“Fast too.” Abby lamented. Even with her ring there was no way she was catching up with him.

Nothing is easy. At least Martin was here, and she hadn’t done any worse than the real Hero of Kvatch.

“Oh fuck Martin!” She remembered eyes wide shoving herself away from the window back outside thinking of her companion, who was in a substantial amount of danger himself. Especially if the cloaked figures were their camp mates who recognized him.

“They’ll never forget your face now.” Abby muttered thinking of Martin’s half hearted confused complaints as she ran to the small stone chapel.

The door swung open revealing the face of Elania the wood elf. Elania didn’t have too much time to look surprised before she was hit from the front and back. Abby had lunged forward and swung at her face, breaking her nose as Martin, or someone else proficient at ice spikes launched an ice straight through her back. It might have merely knocked her forward if her spell hadn’t faded and her armor melted back to red robes.

Unlucky

Instead she spun like a pinwheel in the wind with the force of the magic strike and Abby’s punch landing at once.As soon as she dropped, Martin was in Elania’s space, hands coming to hold Abby, eyes roaming for injury. They were absolutely trauma bonding. She thought as she felt herself do the same hands feeling trapped on his shoulders.

If he was fine, it would be fine.

“Well that’s one way to make an entrance.” A wry voice said from behind him. The spell over the two broke and they turned to see the amused leader of the blades standing katana bloody and resting unbothered on his shoulder. “Who might you be?” He asked not sheathing his blade.

“Umm I’m Abby.” She replied. “I’m glad to see you’re both okay,” At this Jauffre looked like she’d told an outrageous lie, "Unfortunately the Amulet was taken by Raz,” Prior Maborel confirmed it grimly at Jaufree’s stricken expression. At the proclamation that Raz actually was a thief Martin grimaced.

”But it’s not over! I have to tell you something… It’s quite the story we should go somewhere private.” She felt the beginnings of a headache creeping up on her. Jauffre motioned them to come in and all four of them entered the chapel taking a seat on the upright benches, seemingly unaware of the bodies that littered the ground around them. Abby recognized the Imperial and the man next to him. So they were all the campers. God Martin’s lucky.

“My name is Abby and I’m not from around here.” She began turning her face from the would be murders. “I woke up in the woods and found a dead Dunmer at a camp, his journal is in my pack if you’d like to see it?” Jauffre shook his head negatively for now, hands still occupied with his sword. “I don’t know him, but I did recognize some things he’d written about. It’s a story you see, where I come from.”

Jauffre didn’t look like he believed her, but he also hadn’t stabbed her, but he also hadn’t made any more to stow his weapon.

“Look you don’t have to believe me but can you put that thing down? It's very distracting.” She glared at the weapon. He rolled his gray eyes and rested it to his left on the bench still clearly threatening her. Someone with such a stupid haircut shouldn’t look so intimidating.

“Thanks, I guess.” She grumbled. “It’s a story. It’s all a story and you play along, as the main character. You start in the prison and meet the Emperor, witness his death and then escape the sewers. The player goes here and then rescues Martin, You play out the entire crisis to Martin’s death.” She ended lamely. Jauffre’s expression changed as she spoke and ended with a distraught look.

“So we are doomed then” He said dejectedly. “The blades truly have failed.”

“No we’re not. Martin saves us all. The story is happy for Cyrodiil. Not Martin or the player really but it ends well.” His gray eyes watched her carefully. “I have played the story many many times. I thought I was dreaming, I didn’t really know what was going on. But I went to Kvatch. Got Martin and now we’re here. Only you can help, grandmaster.” She acknowledged him with a small tilt of her head.

“Got Martin.” Martin scoffed “Like it was an easy thing to do, Kvatch was invaded by portals to Oblivion. The city is ruined. The chapel was swallowed. I and a group of citizens were in the Deadlands.” Jauffre made a wordless cry, eyes finally leaving Abby. “Abigail rescued our party only losing one of our number to Oblivion, closed the gate and saved Kvatch and myself.” It sounded pretty cool when Martin said it.

“It’s not that impressive, I already knew how to close it because of the story.” She argued. Martin, Jauffre and Prior Maborel all looked at her incredulously.

“That’s how you knew my name.” Maborel was the first to break the somewhat awkward silence. Abby flushed and nodded. “I would have died if you hadn’t warned me.” He said it plain and simple as if Abby hadn’t agonized over that possibility with every step toward Weynon Priory with Martin this past day.

“Yes, you did. The hero gets to keep your horse, but I never rename it because I feel bad I was too late to save you.” She agreed.

“You did save me.” He reminded gently.

“Guess I don’t have to feel too bad anymore.” She said feeling helpless about where to take the conversation next.

“I believe your tale, as incredible as it is. The Dunmer you spoke of was here and recounted the exact same story not three weeks past. His name was Julian.” Jauffre finally sheathed his weapon.

“Julian Fresh-Spring!” Abby felt like a jolt of electricity traveled through her at his name. His name, Her name? The name she gave him! “I am Julian Fresh-Spring!” She repeated.

“Abigail” Martin’s voice called to her and she realized she’d been shaking slightly, her face damp with tears again. “Your name is Abigail, you make everyone call you Abby. You like to collect things and flirt with me. You are a stranger in this land. You are not a Dunmer but an Imperial and Nord.” He stated these things firmly and with a surety like he was declaring the color of the sky or that water was wet.

“You think that explains the screaming?” She didn’t mean to say that but it was hard to stay composed and not a shaking mess trying to reconcile the realization that Julian, a person, she’d created and whose skin she’d lived in was dead. Martin gave a thoughtful sound.

“Maybe, your voice of the emperor and mythic nordic hero shouting.” He smiled. Abby snorted.

“Screaming bloody murder like a frightened chicken is nothing like Nordic Shouting.” She smiled, shaking her head feeling a little embarrassed. “Plus you have to study or be related to Martin for that right?”

“It’s a possibility you shouldn’t ignore, no doubt screams that loud are magical. I’m sure the entire city will be here soon checking in on the Prior.” Jauffre snorted. It wasn’t funny but after surviving a brush with death what can you do but laugh. “You’ll want to refrain from talking to anyone until we leave for Cloud Ruler Temple.” He advised. Abby frowned, not talking to people would make life very difficult.

“She loves nothing more than to talk, you have asked a Vigilant to let sleeping Daedra lay!” Martin informed him somberly.

“Fuck off Martin,” She shoved him harshly on the bench beside her and he laughed. Jauffre raised an eyebrow at the rough treatment of the king. “There are no kings where I come from, he’s just a guy. An annoying one at that.” She stuck out her tongue. “And anyway I was going to the castle and ask them to send Savlian any aid they could part with.” She said seriously to Martin. That caused Martin to turn thoughtful.

“We probably shouldn’t linger if they knew Jauffre was here. We were very lucky.” He nudged the dead Imperial at his feet. “We met this group on the road. Spent the night in their camp even. But I could see if the temple would send aid.”

“Isn’t it Stendar’s chapel? You can probably just tell them daedra attacked.” Abby said, eyeing the chaos around them. “Do you mind if I…? Before we go into town?” She gestured at the carnage. Martin rolled his eyes but put his back down and opened it on the bench for her to rearrange.

“I need a bigger bag.” She muttered looking at all the things already packed in both bags.

“I have something in the main house, let me know if you find anything interesting I’ll bring the bag here.” Prior Maborel said, clapping his knees dramatically and rising, clearly having no interest in watching her loot bodies. Jauffre rolled his eyes but also stood.

“I must prepare for our trip as well. Don’t go anywhere alone, try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.” He said this to Abby directly which felt a bit rude to her but so far he’d only seen her punch someone, scream down the sky and heard stories that she was new around here. So maybe fair.

Both men left her and Martin and Abby had to laugh to herself that it was quite like the game, important dialogue done, fucks right off to next task or point in the routine. Her laughter didn’t reach the same hysteria as the other night thankfully and she was able to turn toward the bodies.

“Why did you call him Julian?” Martin asked casually not moving from his bench to help or stop her. “It seemed you recognized his name.”

“I’m not sure, I don’t know any other Julian’s but I typically make each character have a new name. The first one is always Abby and after that I change it up. So he’s not my first character.” She said thoughtfully, lifting up the robes on the first body to check his boots and armor situation.

“Oh gods” She groaned and dropped the robe quickly. Martin had stretched out on the bench, hands resting behind him holding himself up right. “No pants at all.” She said wrinkling her nose. Martin laughed at her expression. “I was going to take his robe but maybe the next guy. I didn’t need to see that today,” She gagged a bit remembering the full glory of the Mythic Dawn.

“It’s possible they are all similarly clad, conjuring in armor in battle can be tricky. Sometimes the motion of your body affects how the gear forms around your body, can lead to awkward pinching.” He explained with a cheeky grin. “It’s also possible to accidentally vanish things you were already wearing, so perhaps he was wearing pants and a cloth but they’ve returned to Oblivion with his summons.” Both of them cackled a bit at a pair of still warm underpants appearing randomly in the Deadlands.

“That explains the pose I guess.” She chuckled and stuck her hand up dramatically making fist like most summoners she’d seen do.

“Precisely. I would summon a dagger perhaps but full gear is best left to true masters of the art.” He nodded his agreement coming to lounge on his elbow. He must be tired from their trip or combat.

“You can take a nap if you want, while I finish here. I won’t leave without you,” She waved at the room. Martin looked a little guilty to have been caught out. “Rest up your highness” She smiled and Martin finally dropped all the way to the bench, eyes closing quickly.

She moved back to the dead flasher looking for a pocket in his robes. His robes did end up having pockets but he only had a lock pick inside the one. It was quickly tossed into her open bag and his dagger examined. It was actually just iron which was annoying but she tossed it into Martin’s open bag, never hurt to have more than one. The dead man did have a thin leather necklace that was twisted back in death to the ground behind him. She pulled at it and was surprised to see an Amulet of Mara.

He can’t be a worshiper?

Men can be two things at once.

Hopeless romantic and regicide hopeful?

She pulled it free and tossed it on, tucking it under her shirt. Abby didn’t remember exactly what it did but she knew it was enchanted. Absently she wondered if it was the necklace or the pendant that made it magical. Could one take the leather for another purpose without taking the enchantment? Could someone stow a pendant in a pocket and be “wearing it” enough for magic to kick in? I wish Martin was awake. She thought it and then felt selfish immediately, eyes flicking over to his steadily breathing form. He deserved to sleep while they had time.

The Imperial ringleader had a sack of coins, a note about Jauffre specifically Abby stowed to show the faux priest later, and two rings she took but didn’t put on. Martin’s warning about magical over-stimulation playing in her mind.

That’s absolutely not what it’s called.

She wished there was a mute button for Sheo

Liar! You called on me.

She finished her frisking of the bodies two daggers richer, two unlabeled potion bottles stowed, a handful of coins, the two rings from the Imperial and she’d taken the robes from the two least stabbed radicals, one of who unfortunately was the pantsless man. Still could be helpful to blend in with the enemy if need be. She tucked both of these in Martin's pack at the bottom thinking if they were found he, the emperor of Tamriel, was much less likely to be accused of treachery.

The only other thing she’d taken from the dead were actually Elina’s boots, after eyeballing them she thought they might fit Martin. She put them on the end of his bench for him to try when he woke up. No matter how devoted to the green ish cassock he was now, there was no reason to not plan ahead.

Jauffre and Prior Maborel didn’t return so Abby turned to the rest of the temple and began opening the various boxes, barrels and sacks around the room. There was actually a small alter at the far end of the building with windows surrounding it bathing the kneeling bench and candles near it in soft blue green light. As she approached the bench she eyed it wearily.

Two parallel marks were worn in the reddish fabric, lighter than the fabric around it from years of someone kneeling and climbing off the bench. Jauffre may play as a monk here but he clearly did spend some time praying. A tingle raised the hair on her arms and she shivered thinking about calling on a higher power.

At home there were many stories of God and Gods but they didn’t hold much for her but bad memories. Not that she could actually remember them, just the sour thought and bile in her throat at the idea of kneeling to pray here. Even knowing she’d be calling on different names, her body rebelled at the idea of kneeling.

She used the toe of her boot to nudge the bench aside. She took its place and bowed her head, eyes closed, standing.

Could she pray here? Who would she even pray to? He didn’t need prayer with whatever was happening between them. None of what she knew of the deities of this world drew her to them.

I’m calling on all who listen. She thought finally.

If you care at all about what happens here. She thought of Kvatch’s city in flames, the guards and survivors burning bodies.

If you love the people of this place, She thought about Savlian’s wry smile, Elnaril’s scowling face, Prior Maborel alive after the attack, Lucus and his weepy father Hob, Cryille who was gone and Julian’s open empty eyes.

You will keep your eyes down here. You’ll watch over us, Protect the people of these lands. Protect Martin.

Abby squeezed her eyes shut tightly trying to pour all of her need and demand for aid into her thoughts.

Fucking help me!

She felt a little dizzy when she finally opened her eyes and raised her head. There. Prayers made. The rest was out of her hands.

The rest lies completely in your hands.

When she turned, leaving the spot that had hosted years of Juaffre’s prayers, maybe decades of faith, and her one desperate plea, she saw Martin was awake. His head turned toward her simply studying her.

They left without speaking. Content to keep the rest stolen and prayers made bottled up and undisturbed in that holy place.

Chapter 13: Weynon Priory part 2

Summary:

A little preparing for travel, a little silly magic experimenting, a little dramatic bullshit that seems inevitable when one has jumped dimensions and is bff's with the king.

Abby trailed after Martin down the cobblestone streets without speaking. She hadn’t felt like saying anything after the heaviness of the chapel. There were still things that needed doing however, so they set out from the priory into town. Chorrol was a beautiful city, especially as the sun set behind the far mountains and set the top of the temple of Stendar glittering from all the western windows.

“I should go to the chapel alone.” Martin said, pausing as they entered the city stepping to the side to let others walk around them. “There’s a pawnshop along this road,” He nodded at a building on the left with a sign swinging too sharply to be read. “Meet you in the square when we’re done?” He asked, eyes carefully searching her face.

“Yes.” Her voice was a little hoarse which seemed funny because she’d only been silent for maybe an hour now? How had Julian done it? “Be careful” He smiled at her and turned to walk briskly up the hill to the chapel.

She hadn’t heard Julian’s voice before past grunts and groans from battle. Maybe screams if her health was low. Well now he was dead and she’d never hear it.

Fucking depressing

“God, churches do a number on me apparently.” She muttered and moved toward the pawnshop Martin had pointed out, Northern Goods and Trade, per the now still sign. She paused a moment before pushing the door open. This shop is run by an Argonian, she remembered. Don’t freak out, you're from Black Marsh now. It was probably a good thing to encounter one in a controlled setting, thinking of her shock and unfortunate meeting with Raz.

The inside of the shop was narrow and stacked from floor to ceiling with things. Bolts of fabric, a neat stack of cheese wheels, a rack of weaponry full and holding more arrows than she’d ever seen in one place. Abby let her eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting inside before realizing she was on the inventory level and that the shopkeep and her daughter, judging by the voices, were both upstairs.

Abby closed the door behind her with enough force to announce herself and a precariously perched bow shuddered in its place resting atop the weapons rack. The voices stopped for a moment, the door having done its job, they should get a bell.

“Take a look around, we have something for everything!” A voice offered.

“Everyone dear.” A weary older voice corrected. Abby smiled, absolutely the mother and daughter shop. She shrugged off her bag and climbed the steps.

It was a good thing she had braced herself. Neither of the two women behind the counter looked like anything she had encountered. They both had similar… skin blades? Feathering?... ridges that looked sturdy and held completely still, between the spikes, webbed skin like a frog's fingers was stretched looking like a solid fleshy covering. The rest of their skin was most certainly scales like a snake. A human snake.

Abby realized both women were staring at her uncertainty now because she’d been standing there for Talos knows how long staring at them.

“Sorry,” She muttered, clearing her throat and walked closer to rest her bag.

“Come to trade?” The mother’s voice was gravely, low and careful. Tense, testing. Abby guessed she was the older of the two because the other argonian’s cheekbones were higher and her head seemed over all narrower, as if she was still growing.

“If you will, I didn’t mean to stand there like an idiot” Abby waved behind her. “I forget myself sometimes, too many thoughts.” She said apologetically.

“And what thoughts plague you today, dry skin?”

yikes

Was she destined to insult every unusual person she met?

“I have this pot see,” Abby pulled the tiny pot taken from their pirate thief outside of Kvatch. “If I break off the handle and have it made flat, why can’t I use this as a mortal and pestle? Is there a real need to buy one from the guild or are they just trying to keep us in line and giving up coins?”

She had been thinking about that, not just now of course, but they didn’t need to know that. Both women blinked at her in surprise, clearly not expecting her to have a real reply past, “you look funny and I was staring”

Lizards don’t have eyelids right?

“Adventurers.” The older woman muttered and moved away to tidy something. Clearly she thought Abby had taken one too many blows to the head.

Maybe you have.

Shhhhhh

“That’s a good question!!” The younger argonian beamed, “But don’t break your pot I have one downstairs!!” She lifted the bar that separated the women presumably the back room and the storefront and darted past Abby.

Abby blinked in surprise at the remaining shopkeep.

“Be on your best behavior” She glared clearly not buying Abby’s distraction. Abby nodded once and the younger woman arrived back upstairs with a slightly larger pot, handle pre broken.

“Got anything to test?” She grinned. All her teeth showed at once because she had no lips that Abby recognized. She looked scary. She looked cute. She reminded Abby of alligators at home. Abby smiled back, relaxing.

“I have a bunch of shit and a lot of questions!”

Martin ended up coming into the shop to get her when she failed to meet him outside as they had planned. In her defence, she and Dar-Ma had learned 2 very interesting things and piqued the curiosity of Seed-Neeus as well.

Martin cleared his throat behind her startling them all, an amused look on his face.

“Okay but now we know any metal can be a mortar and pestle and that a pocket is wearing enough!” Abby didn’t explain herself terribly well but he came closer curious about the broken pot she brandished. They had mixed together a few of the dried plants Abby brought in and one bug part Dar-Ma had, in their pot squealing in delight when the mixture began to thicken into a resist frost damage poultice. Their success had prompted Abby to ask her amulet/neckless question as well to the curious indulgent pair.

They had determined that a leather thong taken from an amulet was indeed just leather, and that holding the pennant in an inner pocket did allow the enchantment to reach the wearer. This rehashing had Martin nodding sagely, perhaps at their discovery, perhaps at Dar-Ma’s unseasonably heavy indoor jacket/testing attire.

“AND! Seed-Neeus is going to take her boots to the blacksmith and see if cutting the leather open will keep the enchantment!” Abby smiled, “Some asshole gave her boots that increase speechcraft and trading skills but she obviously can’t wear them.” She rolled her eyes thinking about the laughter that echoed in her head when Seed-Neeus had told her the story of the boots and why they were the only pair for sale in the shop.

“Sounds like a productive day, but did you trade your things?” Martin frowned gently. Abby’s face fell.

“Ummm no. I forgot to do any bartering.” She admitted awkwardly scratching her nose. Martin tried his best to hold back his laughter. “Hey!! Don’t laugh, we were doing serious science!” She pouted. It was a fruitless endeavor however because Dar-Ma was also giggling into her hands behind the counter. Even the dour Seed-Neeus was grinning broadly, all her sharp teeth on display.

“Okay fine.” She tossed up her hands and joined in the chuckling as Martin and Dar-Ma howled with laughter.

“It’s okay smooth skin. I sorted everything you took out of that mess of a bag.” Seed-Neeus smirked and stood from where she’d moved onto doing books and drew closer to a small separated pile Abby hadn’t really noticed her making.

“Thank you! I have more in Martin’s bag anyway so this works out.” She motioned that he should take off his pack while she moved to examine the goods preapproved for trading.

They ended up leaving with significantly lighter packs. Abby cleared out all her extra clothing save two complete outfits for the both of them, the fur coat from the Count and Dar-Ma’s amulet jacket. She had traded all her unknown potion bottles for two health potions and a minor potion of sorcery. She and Dar-Ma had split their pot potion with great cheer but the rest of her ingredients were left at the store. To Martin’s chagrin she didn’t get rid of her tent poncho, nor purchase a second tent. There was one at the store but they would have spent all their money to purchase it, and Abby secretly didn’t want to sleep separately from Martin anyway.

They left the shop with Dar-Ma and Seed-Neeus promising to write to her in Bruma about their success in deconstructing the boots.

They paused to sit under on a bench under the street lamp and eat some cheese she’d bought from the two women as a break from their unending road snacks. Abby wondered if this was made from a blessed goat or if she’d lost the plot because this had to be the best slice she’d ever tasted. Back home she remembered she had an entire drawer for cheese in her kitchen and she would commonly snack on blocks by shaving off slices while playing or watching tv.

Isn’t it lovely?

Abby choked a little on the triangle at his sinister whisper which echoed clearer than any sound he’d made thus far baring the screaming in Oblivion when she’d called on his name. Oh right, perhaps she shouldn’t temp the Cheese God when they were precariously bound to one another via magical tether.

“It is a wonder to me that you think you don’t belong here.” Martin brought her away from her sacrilegious curd contemplation. Abby offered him the triangle with a grimace. Martin accepted it without changing topic. “You attract people wherever you venture, however you misstep. I’ve never met someone so many people like, and yet you worry that you don’t belong. That you’ve stolen the life of someone from here. ”

Abby thought about Julian’s likely now rotting body and felt a pang of regret for how his life ended.

“The place you’ve taken I cannot fathom anyone else in.” He said softly finishing his cheese. “Julian must have been truly remarkable.”

Abby exhaled softly, smiling to herself eyes on the statue of the grieving woman before her. How appropriate a view for missing her created life.

“Yea he was cool. I loved being him. And you!” She grinned, nudging his shoulder with her own. “I always thought you loved him.” Martin hummed non committedly around the remainder of her cheese.

“Perhaps I knew you were there.” He was standing like he hadn’t just rocked her world with that effortless confession. And maybe he didn’t mean it.

But maybe he did.

“I will write to Savlian tonight about the temple’s aid. Would you like to include any letter?” He asked, holding a hand to pull her up. Abby allowed herself to be lifted and nodded following him out the southern gate back to the Priory.

Martin did not take his hand back and Abby didn’t let go either.

*********************************

“Talos woman, did you leave any paper in your journal?” Martin blinked in shock at the thick stack of letters Abby plopped down before him for assistance sealing and mailing.

“Fuck off! This is all from Jauffre’s desk.” She beamed and separated them into three piles. “How does someone with no crest seal letters?” She asked curiously. Surely a blob of wax with no mark would be easy enough to open and reclose if you matched the color well enough?

“I always make an M” He shrugged. “I suppose if you use an official courier you can ask for a city seal but I’m doing out letters.” The wax he’s prepared was red, like she’d expected and he drizzled it with a practiced hand across the parchment.

“You’re going to need to do that for me.” She grimaced thinking how her entire letter might be lost if she tried.

“Seal the one for Lucus and Hob yourself. It’s good practice and a 10 year old won’t care.” He rolled his eyes marking out a gorgeous A on her letter to Salvian and Livet. While his intentions were good Abby ended up burning her finger and swearing aggressively after her attempt. She was still nursing her finger when Jauffre entered the room.

“Difficulties?” He asked eyebrow raised.

“Used too much wax lost the A shape. Forgot it was hot and went to push it around like paint.” She admitted holding out her red smarting finger.

Jauffre raised a hand and a gold light swirled, the throbbing vanishing quickly.

“Right. Magic.” She muttered studying her finger which was now only red due to the lingering wax.

“We should make for Cloud Ruler Temple soon.” He said speaking to Martin rather than her. “It is dangerous to linger here when we don’t know where the thief has run off to. Will you be headed to meet Barus in the city?” He turned this part to address Abby.

She felt a flash of fear at traveling alone again. And the sewers, infested with Zombies, rats, goblins and diseases.

“No, I’m planning to accompany you. There’s a library there right? And training grounds? I need to read up on more than West Weald plants if I’m going to be any help advising and shit.” She countered quickly. The Hero of Kvatch absolutely went with Martin and Jauffre to Cloud Ruler first in the game. Perhaps Jauffre was less keen to trust her because of her sudden appearance?

He turned to look at Martin ignoring her arguments in favor of the emperor's approval. Abby felt a flash of annoyance.

Fillet his flesh!

Maybe she agreed.

“Don’t look at me I can’t possibly be without my Chief Advisor of Shit.” Martin shrugged, pushing all the letters together to be sent and standing.

“We don’t have enough mounts. Since the prior won’t be sending his.” Jauffre said lightly as if his fellow monk not dying was somehow a bad thing.

“Then you can walk.” Abby snapped, crossing her arms.

Seriously, what was this about?

“Figure yourself out Grandmaster, I will not be without my friend, until she desires it.” Martin said coolly and left the two of them alone without a backward glance. A quick cool order from the king of the land to settle their unknown quarrel.

“What the hell man?” She waved her hand. Jauffre grimaced clearly hoping he’d be able to put some distance between her and Martin without saying whatever had set him off.

“You are too attached.” He said finally.

“Sorry I like him?!?” She was incredulous.

“He will be Emperor.”

“I know he will because I’m going to ensure it” She reminded him that she.. Julian.. Another had to be a part of this song and dance to stop the Oblivion Crisis. Jauffre never left Cloud Ruler once they arrived, too many strings to pull. There wasn’t anyone else.

“He will be an Emperor who needs a wife!” Jauffre snapped as if she was being stupid. Maybe he was right but maybe he should let Martin worry about it. “It won’t be you. Be reasonable.” He said softer than before.

“Do you trust him as Akatosh’s divinely appointed ruler?” She asked, trying to keep the mockery from her voice. “Do you?”

“Of course.”

“And you think Akatosh would appoint an idiot, is that it?”

“Of course not! But..”

“Then you think I’m mightier than Akatosh!” She interrupted him.

“No”

“Then you think I’ve conquered Akatosh’s holy plan in less than a month?!”

“No! I..”

“Then shut up!” She cut across him again bringing herself up to her full height just slightly taller than his own. “You trust Martin is a grown man, appointed by the gods to lead. And that he wouldn’t be led astray by me or by some master spy whispering in his ear.” she gave him a dirty pointed look. Maybe this anger came from her being in the way of his puppet.

Jauffre scowled even heavier at that looking older by the moment, as if his graphics were lagging.

“You will break his heart.” He said finally. Abby scoffed wishing her cheeks weren’t flaming.

“His heart has already been broken and he survived.” She shook her head thinking of whatever hurt he carried from his time with Sanguine.

“I have to protect him.” Jauffre offered in defense of himself as their argument stalled into silence both a little hurt at being accused of leading the emperor for their own ends.

“Then in that we are in agreement!” She rolled her eyes and made for the door Martin had left out of.

When she cleared the door Martin was watching her from the shadows near the shelf. His eyes glittered in the candlelight of the room despite standing in the darkest spot. Their eyes met and she hoped he hadn’t heard out of a desperate plea for her dignity regarding her crush. She hoped he’d heard every word.

She wrote feverishly of all that had happened in her journal that night before bed wishing she was safely steering Julian through danger from her beloved sofa.

*********************************************************************************

The next morning they were preparing in relative silence for their journey. Jauffre gave orders to one of the farm hands and then quickly fucked off to the chapel, which after their argument Abby found annoying.

“You’re doing okay, Abby.” A voice turned her from her perusal of the bookcase guarding the secret room. She’d sent Livet Emma’s book with her letter and needed something new. Prior Maborel was smiling at her from the landing he’d just crested.

“Jauffre’s is afraid. He’s never been under so much stress.” He continued. Abby pulled a random book on enchanting, she guessed by the name and turned to face the Prior.

“We all are.” Abby said sullenly.

“True,” he conceded. “But Jauffre isn’t falling in love at the end of the world.” He smiled at her blush. “His love has come and gone. He knows what heartbreak does to a man.” Abby’s mouth turned down at the corner. Of course she didn’t know what. He wasn’t just a code and script here. He’d lived all the years to become an old crotchety man rather than spawning that way.

“What was her name?” She asked curiously.

“Uriel.” Abby felt like her eyes might pop out of her head with shock. “And he was a liar, and an adulterer and looked just like your young man.” The Prior signed and motioned for her to follow him outside.

“That’s a big lore drop.” She said finally allowing herself to be pulled along. The Prior didn’t speak further until they were at the stables. He entered fearlessly, because he belonged here. Eternally at Weynon Priory, alive this time.

“Just be patient with them both. And you should probably take my horse. Jauffre may have tolerated the suggestion but I doubt he’d really let you steal Thunder from him.” He winked offering her the lead to his familiar paint horse.

“I actually can’t ride.” She confessed curling his fingers around the lead. “I’m just going to cuddle with Martin for 6 days to irritate Jauffre.” She snickered at the surprise and then mischief in Maborel’s face.

“That’s a good plan.” They both started and turned to see Martin had joined them in the stable, no longer in his priest get up, but rather his sleeveless get up from the gate.

Maybe it isn’t, she thought desperately trying not to blush.

Naughty mortal are you going to ride the Champion?

RIDE WITH THE CHAMPION!!!

Her plan to avoid blushing was shot.

Chapter 14: The Talk

Summary:

Martin tries to make the most of their last bits of privacy.

Notes:

Warning: Here be horny.

To the immense relief of both Martin and Abby, Jauffre pulled the stick out of his ass after only a day of travel. And the first day he’d spent mostly in silence leading their little band, which included himself, the king, Abby and two guards called Demetri and Aaron who were most certainly stablehands when they arrived, but were fully kitted in heavy plate metal on their horses.

Abby might have more sympathy for their mounts if her body wasn’t smarting everywhere from riding with Martin. Her calves and thighs hurt from clenching and rubbing continuously, her back hurt from being jostled and the tightness her nerves caused. Her shoulders also ached because she was trying not to completely surround Martin like a jellyfish despite her teasing with Prior Maborel.

All and all she almost wished they were walking to Cloud Ruler.

“Three days down, Three to go” She reminded herself before clambering up behind Martin onto Daffodil the horse after their lunchtime respite had ended. It seemed that horses or perhaps a medium sized party, kept most of the trouble away from them.

Perhaps being on the road was also helpful, she added. There was very little time in the game where she traveled on the roads when a whorl win sprint of insanity only possibly by the superhuman Hero of Kvatch was “technically” faster. She often got side tracked while off road but such was the beauty of an open world game.

“How much privacy do you think we’ll have at Cloud Ruler?” Martin spoke softly over his shoulder to her while Demetri, Aaron and Jauffre rode a short distance ahead chatting. Abby considered how everything in the world was substantially bigger than the game. So there would be more people, more rooms, just more in general. But even in trapped in her TV, very few rooms at Cloud Ruler were without people.

“The doors likely lock but I don’t know we’ll get much alone time.” She admitted making sure to mind her volume as she’d nearly shouted him deaf the first day before he finally begged for mercy that evening.

“I was worried about that,” She wished she could see his face when they talked. “I want to talk to you then.” Abby tried to calm her mind which was suddenly racing with the mystery of Sanguine.

“Okay. Listen and comment or just listen?” She asked carefully. Martin lifted and readjusted in the saddle subconsciously.

“Listen and reply, it’s not that. Not today.”

“Totally understand. I’m all ears.” She said and allowed one arm to loop around his waist. It might have made the conversation a bit more awkward but provided her comfort and more importantly stability.

“I heard you and Jauffre.” He began.

Duh, I saw you.

“I want you to know I appreciate your faith and trust in me.” Gods, she wished he’d get on it with. It felt alarmingly like a “let’s stay friends” or, “it’s not you, it’s me”.

“Okay.” She muttered showing she was listening.

“I don’t know what is to come. Even with all your knowledge, we just don’t know. If I live and you stay…” He trailed off as if imagining it. “But then you might not stay, or maybe be taken to the Shivering Isles! Or maybe I’ll die another way. Or maybe you’ll die.” He said quickly.

Abby felt a chill race down her skin like an egg had been cracked on her head and was running down her body at the mention of the Shivering Isles. She squeezed his middle with her one arm hold.

“We’re going to try our best.” She stopped him. “But if you could have your way, if it was all perfect?” She prompted hoping... foolishly.

“I would keep you with me forever. I feel as if I have been asleep for all my life. Perhaps I was merely a character on a stage until we met, your face waking bringing me to life.” He confessed. The distance between them and the chatting men grew as Martin slowed Daffodil a bit to make up for their conversation which had faded out.

“Good.” She smiled, glad he couldn’t see her.

“But…” He began but stopped quickly.

“Martin I promise I won’t freak out no matter what’s on your mind.” She said reassuringly. Who was confessing here? She felt just as nervous at whatever this was.

“I was the Champion of Sanguine.” He stressed this like it explained everything.

“I’d heard.”

“The Champion of Sanguine!” He tried again. Abby frowned, listening and thinking desperately.

“Martin, are you trying to turn me down because we might not be kink compatible?!” His frustrated and awkward demeanor melted in a groan at her lack of understanding. Abby jumped sharply as Martin reached back the hand not holding the reins to wrap his hand around her upper thigh tightly, each finger digging into the flesh. Because of their angle it was a little difficult and he probably looked ridiculous clinging to her backward on their shared ride.

Abby felt like her entire leg was on fire, each nerve screaming at the sudden contact by someone she desired and loved.

“Abigail! I am not trying to send you away. I want to warn you about me. I want you so deeply it startles me. I have given offerings that would cause your ancestors to blush back to the very beginning of your line. I have celebrated in the Misty Groves themselves. I have taken and been taken… men, women, both together, Sanguine himself!”

Oh!!

It was like a completely different person was riding with her, someone she’d never even seen a glimpse of. She had promised to listen but her heart was hammering in her chest. Her breath stolen from her lungs.

“I would fulfill your every desire. I would have you if I never take the Ruby Throne and I would have you on it as mine. My court, our subjects, everyone in your television box may watch! I care not who witnesses our worship,” He groaned a little at this trying not to squirm. “because it will be devotion of the highest order. I would spend our lives, performing everything I know of fucking, so that we might please your god and mine with our bodies. Surely the Rose will return to our bedside, gifted to us as one. You may ask for His token too because you have driven me to madness already!”

“Martin!” She whimpered, body suddenly clenching and stiff from something besides travel.

Was he the hottest person to ever exist?

Oh Mortal…

YESS!!

Abby’s head shot up where it had fallen to rest on Martin’s back. That was not Sheogorath. As if he’s heard it also Martin released her leg in that same moment, his breath hitching.

“You see, you have enticed him already, calling him to us here.” Martin chuckled lowly and readjusted again. He came down in the saddle again and every place their bodies touched was ringing bells in her head, each strip of skin begging for her attention.

Or his.

“Shit.” She whispered. Martin’s hands remained before him and they both heaved for air. “Okay, I think I understand.” She said, dropping her head back to his back again.

“I want to wait until we’re out of this mess a little,” He laughed shakily “because I want to tell you why I left before we begin and because I fear once I have you, I will not have focus to face this crisis.”

“If you have me now, I’ll never leave your bed.” She confessed a bit embarrassed how badly his words alone had affected her.

“Good.” He laughed again and despite the waves of horny tension they’d both just been riding, he seemed more himself.

“Okay, Yea I understand the terms and conditions. When you’re ready, we’ll go forward together.” There was silence between the two for a short while as they trotted along.

“Yes to all that by the way,” She cleared her throat picking up her head to try and resume the normality of the ride pre confessions.

“Our only assassination attempts will be from the Vigilantes of Stendar.” He said smugly.

Abby couldn’t help but cackle at that. Her hands retreated from him to hold her own middle and she rocked with mirth.

Unfortunately it was like their night in the camp and Martin quickly had to bring Daffodil to a halt and pull Abby down to safety as she struggled for breath around tears and great heaps of laughter. Jauffre and the men had stopped and doubled back for them.

Abby couldn’t get herself to stop, even as her sides and chest began to ache.

A high pitched equally hysterical laugh joined hers and Abby tried to wipe her eyes clear to see where the sound was coming from. Martin nor the Blades would have been howling like she was because it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t like normal laughter that was contagious and short lived. It was a desperate ugly unsettling thing.

As her eyes cleared she took a huge mouthful of air and saw the horrified looks on the men’s faces and the clear source of the laughter.

Daffodil, whose back she and Martin had just vacated, was laughing.

As if that wasn’t troubling enough, the human laughter wasn’t coming from her long mouth. Instead the mare’s neck was opening and closing as if it was a costume of a horse rather than a real animal. There were no lips but horrific teeth that were visible as she tossed her head and cackled.

It was frightening enough to stop Abby’s laughter with a gasp and hiccup as she backed away.

“Oh Mortals, I love your little jokes,” The Mare said with a shrill female voice. Her neck- mouth also moved with the words. After she spoke her neck closed and the laughter stopped from both horse and Abby. The Mare’s eyes were wide with fear as if she’d encountered a snake or was fresh from bearing Martin and Abby in battle rather than on this path. She snorted aggressively a few times and licked her nose as if experimenting that her mouth still worked normally.

“Well. that wasn’t horrifying at all.” Abby said now completely calm. Martin’s shoulders moved like he wanted to laugh but he just grimly shook his head.

“What the devil was that?!?!” Jauffre demanded.

“Oh did we forget to say? One or both of us is being haunted by Sheogorath.” Martin answered for her.

He was lying. He knew who the Mad-God was really haunting.

“Damnit Martin.” Jauffre swore, bringing a gauntlet covered hand to his face which was pinched in annoyance. “Wasn’t one Daedric Prince enough?”

Martin looked a bit surprised that Jauffre knew, perhaps he’d forgotten the older man was head of a spy organization.

“Well. At least it’s not Peryite.” Demetri said in shock.

“The second one isn’t Peryite, right?” Asked Aaron with concern suddenly.

Notes:

more road trippin' to come soon!

Chapter 15: Confessions of a Middle Age Drama King

Notes:

little world building, little feelings, skosh of horny. Really trying to earn the Idiots in Love

In an effort to distract herself from the… everything that had just happened Abby pulled out her book. Which was in fact about enchantment. Specifically enchanting without soul gems. Abby hadn’t known there was any enchantment without soul gems!! The Hero of Kvatch typically used gems.

The author of this book, Gweyir Helehorn, said that only those short on time and talent enchanted with souls. Which was a sick burn in her opinion and made her feel curious and foolish all at once regarding her ignorance. Enchanters worth their salt, Helehorn wrote, were something more akin to spell weavers. They used written symbols imbued with power, typically over time, to bring to life the desired enchantments.

Enchantments can be made in any written language but ancient runes or symbols are preferable. Runes can hold more power and it has been studied by the Guild that the enchantments take longer to wear down or off entirely. An added benefit of using runes or symbols personal to each spell weaver is that they cannot be copied or cancelled as easily by rival mages. A Weaver should only share their codex or parts of their codex with trusted apprentices.

Helehorn went on to describe the opposite of a trusted apprentice who had apparently taken his runic codex and ran for the hills. It was a very curious book. Many of the objects Helehorn described enchanting were metal but why shouldn’t the principles carry over to fabric? Or paper? Or any substance?

“Martin?” She broke the silence placing the leaf she was using to mark her place into the pages.

“Oh good.” He said smiling over his shoulder, eyes twinkling. “You’ve been hmmming for ten minutes. Good read?”

“Yea actually, Might not give this one back. Have you read " Enchanted Existence?" She bent to slip the book into her bag which was strapped to the side of the saddle they shared on Daffodil. Selfishly Abby was glad hers was closer to Daffodil’s hind than Martin’s which was by her shoulder and the place her neck had split earlier that day.

“Perhaps, I spent a lot of time reading these last few years. Ask away.” He shrugged.

“So Helehorn says engraving runes and powering them makes for better enchantments. Everything he’s mentioned so far is metal. But why can’t I use any material? Fabric? Wood, paper? Any of them can hold runes.” She asked, mind buzzing with possibilities.

“Ah okay! Yes I have read this. You’ll read later that metal takes magic better, it absorbs it fastest, so for many who enchant with their own power prefer them to get the strongest magic for the least effort.”

Sounds like radiation.

“Helehorn says later that his wayward apprentice is Mandesi the Tailor! A master of stitching who lives in the Imperial City currently but is renowned for their garments of excellent quality and power. It is a wild claim, no one can prove or disprove. But the magic in those clothes is impeccable, they said once a shield cloak they made was able to completely repel a fire blast from the head of the Arcane University! Might be fake but imagine!” He was so cute when passionate.

“That’s awesome!! I want to try soon!” She said excitedly looking at her own hands. “I guess I should learn some more spells, “you can only throw what you know right?”” She said thoughtfully.

“True! But you should finish the book before trying, just to be sure you don’t try anything he has marked for instant explosion.”

“Which chapter is instant explosion?!?!” She said excitedly having not seen that portion at all.

“NO EXPLOSIONS” Jauffre called back from further up the path. It was hard to know if he’d been listening to their sudo academic discussion or just caught the tail end and wanted to cover his basis.

They ended their eventful day 4 of riding with a huge clap of thunder that sent them all scrambling to find a place for rest, hitching the horses and setting up tents. Up to this point they hadn’t actually set up their tents opting for quick rests from when it was too dark to see at all to the first light of dawn. This was made possible by Aaron’s freakish ability to nap in the saddle. He and his horse might have been the same person. She thought looking at the disheveled black hair sticking out of his hair tie awkwardly.

The heavens rumbled ominously and all the riders exchanged looks.

“Great.” She said nervously thinking about all that needed to be done for the evening. She didn’t regret leaving the extra tent with Dar-ma and her mother, because she would have been struggling in the rain alone to put it up but she hadn’t anticipated Martin and her in such close quarters after their talk earlier in the day.

Needs must however, and after finding an adequate overhang some distance to the east of the road, they made camp.

Abby pulled Daffodil toward the inside of the dry space, perhaps it wasn’t the most practical to house horses inside and humans outside but she didn’t want to deal with smelly wet horses, or risk losing one of their mounts to wildlife.

“Plus you deserve some good rest, huh baby girl?” She cooed at the mare as she unbuckled the strap keeping her saddled as Demetri had shown her and Martin. It was apparent to her that he had no idea Martin was raised on a farm. Perhaps they thought the secret heir had been hidden away at a fancy finishing school for emperor training.

“Bullock sucking, rancid skeever tits”

Emperor finishing school didn’t teach swearing the way Martin could. She did move to help him however after making sure Daffodil was calm as could be with the rapidly changing weather. By the time she came over to him the sky had started leaking fat heavy drops steadily at first, plat…. plat…. platting onto Nirn. As soon as they tied down their respective ends of the tent the sky began absolutely pissing rain. The blades had long since retreated into their tents and Martin dove in from his end which was closest to the water and brought in a few splashes with him.

They both crouched on all fours facing each other, Martin slightly damp, Abby’s mouth open in shock at how quickly it had come down. They blinked at one another for a moment then giggled at their surprised expressions. It took careful maneuvering to lay out their mats and then themselves without disturbing their tent. The rain was blowing against the side of their tent and Abby was grateful to have moved Daffodil and ducked for cover when she could because it was clattering against their tent with each gust of wind.

When they were finally settled, Abby felt as if every part of her body was aware of her tent mate. She tried to force herself to relax, realizing her shoulders were against her ears with the angle and her tension. As she finished pushing the air out and physically dropping her shoulders she realized Martin was watching her with a curious look on his face.

“Have I made you nervous Abigail?” The words should have been teasing but he mostly seemed concerned. Abby rolled her eyes at his insistence at calling her that name.

“No,” He looked doubtful. “I mean it, I was always hyper aware of you. I just didn’t think you were thinking of me too.” So eloquent. She lowered her eyes to the part in his shirt tracing the stitching with her eyes.

“Abigail, I’ve been thinking of you for ages!” He gave a half laugh. “I told you I dreamt of your face?” Abby nodded, still not looking up, this was too close. She might cry or try to kiss him if she was only a nose length away from the bluest eyes in any universe. “The dreams started a few years ago, I was serving at Kvatch. Still learning to be a good priest.” He trailed off. “Or to impersonate a good priest.”

Self depreciation thy name is Martin.

“I somehow pictured you as putting your mind to piety and just bam! Being Akatosh’s best recruiter.” She offered with a smile scooting back to dare to look at him.

“Ha! Hardly. I wish I had left Sangiune and magically become better. But I only have 3 years of sobriety.” He confessed and rolled to lay on his back facing the top of the tent. Abby felt curious, it wasn’t a crime to indulge in alcohol. Everyone here drank. Some alcohol was even good for you, she thought she remembered. But Sangiune wasn't Prince of occasional indulgence but rather excessive hedonism.

“That awesome Martin I’m proud of you,” She whispered. That’s what people said back home she was sure of. And she was happy if he was happy.

“I did nothing.” He said solemnly. “I had been out drinking and stumbled back to the chapel to sleep it off in the under croft. I really only remember crying and drinking cheap rice wine in the alley outside the bakery. The old woman who owned it was unfailingly kind. She’d send me back with a muffin or something. “Oh Marty, you’ve got to pull yourself together son.”” He eyes crinkled with laughter when he did his terrible impersonation. Abby didn’t even realize she was scooting closer, enraptured in his story telling.

“Went from the alley to the chapel somehow, then passed out, half in the bed and dreamed.’ He turned his head slightly to look at her. “You looked different, like seeing someone on the other side of distorted glass. But your eyes look the same to me. I knew your voice when she spoke to me in that hell because of the dream. I also woke up the next morning to a dog licking my ear, kneeling at the bed like I’d been praying to the wall and soaked in piss.” He blushed a bit but shrugged.

“Just didn’t want to have any more mornings like that.” He finished lamely as if he wanted to say something else. Abby frowned a bit and returned her gaze to his open shirt and the tantalizing V of skin there.

“Martin?!” Abby sat up suddenly, hands reaching for the flap of his shirt pulling it back to see the stitches more clearly. He grabbed her hands to pull her away and drew her hands and her attention back to his face. He looked a little guilty and embarrassed.

“I thought you knew, when you gave it to me. After our discussion today I realized you didn’t.” He smiled and pulled her closer to him by raising his hands, and hers, above his head. Abby aimed for his forehead but bonked it a little harder than she’d planned.

Maniac

He isn’t yet but you could fix him mortal

She’d have to contemplate the moral complexities of driving your beloved ACTUALLY insane later because their proximity, his breath fanning onto her face, his eyes too close to actually see, but his long black eyelashes fluttering so close to her.

“Would you like to kiss me?” He asked curiously.

Think Abby!! She begged herself. But it was useless. Her frantic nod bumped their noses comically and she tried to press their mouths together. It felt like her mouth could not land on his. Magnetic in a way that kept their noses brushing as she tried.

“Moth kisses” She whispered without realizing she had spoken. Martin released her hands and Abby surged back out of his space. Still caging him in with her hands because she didn’t retreat far.

“Moth kisses?” He was trying not to laugh.

He was confusing her.

“You explain first.” She said feeling a hair more levelheaded away from his face, sharing his air.

“When you pulled this shirt for me from your bag. I thought you knew it was enchanted.” He studied her face and looked validated at the raw shock she had on hers. “Especially when you tore off the arms but I see today you have no idea. When you told me you weren’t from here, your choice of clothing wasn’t foremost in my mind so I’m sorry.” He admitted.

“You’ve lost me entirely. I have no idea it was enchanted! I just realized when I saw the blue stitching.” She nodded at his chest and sat back even further, sitting upright an easier feat for her than him in the tent.

“I believe it had several enchantments originally. It retains the Drain Personality. I suspect that the sleeves held a drain endurance and drain stamina enchantment as I sometimes feel their effect to a much lesser extent when I don this.” He plucked at the collar and shrugged.

“Why would I give you that!?” She asked incredulously. “Have you been knowingly making people not like us?”

“I assumed incorrectly you were a gift for me. If you had been in Sanguine’s confidence he might have told you these enchantments would be helpful for me.”

“How is that helpful?” She asked, wishing she could follow the weaving of his story easier.

“I put it on, when I was overwhelmed by the desire to be with you. It made me calmer perhaps? Or at least not as randy as I should be after 10 years.” He didn’t look away at this but he was still red in the face.

“Gods Martin, not EVERYTHING is about you! I just saw you had no shirt. And I tore the sleeves because you are a huge beefy man and weren’t going to fit in them!! I can’t believe you would put a drain endurance and stamina enchantment on in the heart of hell!” She was trying to consider their first encounter from his perspective, something she thought she’d succeeded at doing but now saw many things in a new light.

“I thought I was Akatosh’s blessing.” He teased wickedly. Now they were both blushing.

“Fuck off. Who would even make a shirt like that?!” She wondered, coming to rest in her mat fully.

“I suspect a jealous spouse for an adulterous counterpart.” He shrugged. “But on our way to Weynon Priory I started wearing it to keep myself in check. As I said I want you,” God like the fire was instantly back to roaring. “And If you’re feeling needy when I’m actively repelling you, you must want me very badly.” He gave a wicked grin that had her groaning and hiding her face, arm across her eyes. He chuckled low at that.

“I was a bit worried, I’d cross your boundaries.” She admitted eyes were still covered. “It’s a bit of a relief to know how hard it is to kiss you, even as my entire body is screaming yes.” Confessing to the darkness was easier than looking at him dead on. “We might have to have all your clothes embroidered like this.” She joked.

Martin did not joke. Nor laugh. Instead he turned with surprising speed and yanked her to him burying his face in her neck with a moan.

“You think I care? I said I would have you with any audience. Perhaps we’ll get you one, a necklace to match every outfit and keep you calm?”

Abby wouldn’t have recognized the keening sound that came from her mouth as a noise she could make except she was hearing it right now. Shaking and pathetic from the feeling of his breath ghosting across her neck.

“Leash for your passion?” He teased, pressing his mouth to her neck. Abby felt like he was burning the skin with his mouth, brain firing off wildly with pleasure from the simple pressure of his mouth. “Collared?”

“Mercy!! Martin I can’t..” She squirmed needing space. She couldn’t kiss him, she was waiting for him to tell her his secret, she needed air. Clean Un-Septimed air.

He pulled back slowly leaving her breathing heavily and also cold in every place he’d withdrawn from.

“Can you tell me about Moth kisses or should we wait for morning?” He asked carefully after a moment of her heavy breathing.

She snorted disrupting the rhythm of her gasping for breath.

This air was infested with strictly Septimed air

You like being covered in it Mortal! We’ll get you matching leashes he and I.

Abby shuddered again any hair that had settled from Martin’s activity rose again in fear at being known as Sheogorath's. And the “he” she was only assuming was Martin. That weirdo could mean Sanguine for all she knew.

“It’s not a thing. Back home you have butterfly kisses, which you just rub noses” She shook her head side to side demonstrating without getting back in his enticing orbit. “Brain just said moth is close but not quite. We weren’t doing it right.” She laughed. Martin smiled.

“That’s cute.” He seemed perfectly content to ruin her life and then go back to normal.

Being Mercurial seemed like a typical ruler thing. Perhaps Martin came by it honestly.

Perhaps he’s wearing a shirt that disrupts his moods. She reminded herself morosely.

“I’m sorry I teased you so much today Abigail.” He said softly. He didn’t look sorry.

“Are you?” She raised an eyebrow not even sure he could see it in the darkened tent.

“A bit. I’m sorry to have caused you stress. Sorry if I frightened you.” He paused and Abby was curious how this faux apology might end. “It does hearten me to see something I’m better at than you.”

“What?!” What was he talking about there was PLENTY he was better at than her?

“You just adapt so well, new world? No problem. Missing Heir? Onward! Take charge, make friends, make plans, sass Jauffre, sass the king! Always learning.” He waved a hand while speaking. “You are so steady sometimes. It’s like you’d never need me, except because of who my father was.”

Abby couldn’t believe he was serious.

“So it’s nice to see you falter in a place I’m experienced in. I know I can be here for you in this. I know I can do this well enough for the both of us. I sound foolish but it is good to know if you are the sun I can be a moon. Equal.”

That was a lot of big feelings for one day. Abby slipped her hand down into his and closed her eyes. They needed to get to sleep soon.

“Let’s be moons together Martin. Share the sky, don’t chase me yea know? We’re in this together.” She replied feeling like she had to make some reply to his grandiose declarations. There was silence again.

“I’m going to blame you being more silver-tounged than me on the shirt.” was his only reply and Abby felt a burst of color behind her eyelids. Like a firework of affection.

He was an idiot who put on a draining enchantment shirt on in the middle of hell, but he was her idiot who put on a draining enchantment.

Notes:

Cloud Ruler up next!

Chapter 16: Daisies, Birds and Bruma

Summary:

Abby has to deal with the reality that Sheogorath is her cranium companion, which may drive her out of her head if it keep us.

Notes:

okay I lied NEXT we do Cloud Ruler

Sheogorath was punishing her. He had to be. Actually scratch that all the Divines and Daedric Princes AND the Tribunal were punishing her. It had rained non-stop since their night in the tent. Her poncho did little to protect her from this because she had pulled in on in her seat behind Martin and realized after 10 or so minutes she had just been funneling all the water off her to soak his ass beyond belief.

And of course he hadn’t said anything. She’d just noticed when the lake of ass water had eventually splashed onto her legs. So she’d turned the poncho sideways and did her best to wrap it around her back.

Not Ideal.

The rain persisted so that when they stopped for the night it was to prop against tree roots and not even bother setting up their tents. The roots of the trees were wide enough, like the forest she arrived in, to allow someone to sit carefully on it. It was the only patch of ground not soaked beyond belief. Abby had only started awake and splashed down twice a night so not too bad.

The water was what it was. Can’t stop the rain. But Sheogorath had decided that he’d like to pass time by screaming bloody murder for attention. He was caterwauling about daisies. Non-stop. The rest of the words around Daisy were a stream of nonsense but the sound reverberating in her head and ears was causing her to have a tear inducing headache. Martin had been sympathetic but no healing hands or sips of potion helped so he had taken to riding in silence trying to reduce his part in the sounds.

Which was lame. She missed his voice. Thankfully they were almost to Bruma, the last night before Cloud Ruler Temple. Jauffre had written ahead to Captain Burd and they had a place to stay the night which was something to be grateful for.

“I might try the temple.” She muttered into Martin’s shoulder head down to prevent rain in her face and to block out light stimulus. “Maybe your Grandpa can do me a favor and make me deaf.” She groaned. Martin didn’t react, passing back to pat her thigh. “If I know anything about Captain Burd it’s he’s energetic as hell. Can’t go to the castle with this headache.”

DAisY! PAISLEY DaISy! baBY! Come on mortal SING!!

I hope you get syphilis from all that goat fucking.

He continued his cackle and settled for ear sounds instead of head ones giving her a slight reprieve.

They had passed the turn off for Bleaker’s Way earlier in the day and she would occasionally pick up her head to scan the horizon for the city walls or stables. She was sure that defensively and from an infrastructure stand point having the southern most gate to the city be on the east side, rather than actually south, made sense. But waterlogged and despairing she did particularly care about the logistics of city planning. As a result of whatever egg-brained Nord had built the city they were forced to walk past it a bit and swing up and back to enter.

EGGsy DAISIES NoRD BoArD BIRD DAISEYYYYY

I’m going to have you banished. I’m swearing allegiance to Jyggalag.

That's not kind at all mortal!! Makes me want to tear out your heart.

A few days before the singing she might have been worried at his aggression now Abby felt that might be a fair trade. Death for sweet relief. Sheo didn’t seem like the kind to let death stop him however.

“Abigail.” Martin’s voice was soft and she might not have heard him at all if she hadn’t been leaning on him. She poked her eyes over his shoulder, blinking back the water that gathered in them like the precursor to a sneeze.

She could see above them the top of a wall.

“Bruma!” She said in relief. Martin nodded and nudged the ever faithful Daffodil forward. All four horses picked up the pace, their party eager to be out of the watery landscape. It was dead lucky it wasn’t winter. She had no experience with snow at all. She’d only ever seen it in movies to be honest. She wasn’t looking forward to spending her first winter in the northern most city in the fucking province.

At least it wasn’t Skyrim.

Their party arrived at the last stretch of road, which was now flattening out to let them into the city, and all dismounted to walk the remainder of the way and get their mounts bedded down in the stable.

“I’m going to run ahead to the Chapel, I can’t wait.” She confessed feeling suddenly very nauseous on her feet, as if she hadn’t eaten all day. She actually couldn’t remember if she had eaten today. They had been riding for hours and she hadn’t had more than a bite of tack for breakfast.

Maybe Sheo’s hangry.

Fetch me Cheese!!

She might if this blessing didn’t pan out. Martin nodded and handed her her pack from its place tired to Daffodil’s saddle. He looked concerned but he didn’t try and stop or delay her which she appreciated.

The gates to Bruma were still open for the day and she passed the large wooden doors without issue. There were guards in yellow casually watching the coming and goings who did look her over before passing over her.

Funny they wore yellow here and in Whiterun, two of her favorite cities.

MELLOW YELLOW DAISY BUTTER!

Bruma had always been one of her favorite cities, even if other cities had more to offer. Anvil was a close second but she liked how easy it was to navigate, the goofy fence called the World-Weary, the abundance of Nords. The mages guild who were all pranking each other in some capacity. It felt a bit like coming home.

The reality of the city was that it was much bigger and the one row surrounding the chapel was actually 5 and it took her a good 10 minutes of walking, trying not to run, to pick her way to the stone steps. There were several ragged men sitting on the steps on the chapel who tried to call out to her but Abby was focused on the door that was propped open.

It was a cut out of the larger door and Abby wondered why they opened so wide. You could easily walk in with a sousaphone on without bending if the door was all the way open.

Sousaphone? Abby paused at the top step trying to focus around the renewed shrieking Sheo had begun.

Crazy DaISY!! Sue a CONE!

She couldn’t hear around him and just continued indoors resuming her brisk not-jog. She blundered in past the door into the darkened interior head down trying to keep her thoughts about the door front and center. If she held the thought maybe once he was silent she could understand what it meant.

It was a doomed endeavor because with all her focus and brisk force march she’d forgotten the layout of each of these chapels in game, which featured a gigantic gaping hole of a staircase just beyond the entrance.

As a result Abby raced in head down, eyes trying to adjust, completely off balance and out of it, walked smack into a barrel and fell forward over the short rail tumbling down. She would have fucking brained herself if she was any less lucky. She did crack her chin on the wall before falling and flailing straight down into the bowels of the chapel.

It was the longest few seconds of her life and the shortest. One moment half sprinting indoors, the next heartbeat a terrifying fall trying to brace for the dumbest death of her Elder Scrolls career, the last moment crashing to the ground into the arms/lap of a person below.

A really big person.

The body she’d left behind was not small by any measure, she was tall and wide. Curvy and heavy and all together "built for famine" she used to joke. This body was tighter, much more muscular and still freakishly tall in her opinion. But her unlucky landing pad was at least as big as Raz the Khajiit. It was not the Raz the Khajiit but he did have a lot of hair.

“Woah there!” He rumbled sitting himself up under her and carefully pulling her upright. One of his massive hands was holding her head, guarding it from the wall they were close to, the other wrapped around her helping tugging her up. When she finally got upright she was kneeling between his legs, eyes level with his scruffy chin looking up into his surprised face. He gave her a crooked smile when their eyes met and Abby wondered if it wasn’t a rule in Tamriel that all blue eyes had to be icy and enchanting.

“Are you okay little bird?” He asked with a smile. He spoke softly but even that was a big sound. His voice carried like he’d never truly learned not to shout.

His poor mom. She chuckled imagining an exhausted woman with raven hair begging this gigantic baby to use an inside voice.

“Wow” That’s not what she meant to say but her brain had taken a moment to process his insanely beautiful hair that dove in wild curls from his head down to his elbows. It was longer than she’d ever kept her hair and so thick she felt both jealous of it and relieved she didn’t have to live in the Florida heat with that mane. It somehow didn’t even look truly rumpled after catching a falling adult woman from the sky just curly and a little fuzzy. “Uh yea sorry. I’m fine. Thanks for catching me. You have nice hair.” She scooted back, still kneeling out of his grasp to give them room.

“Thanks, grew it myself.” He grinned. Abby snorted and clambered to her feet. This had her chest even with his face due to his size and the higher stair he was on. “Must have been in a rush to not see the railing little bird, everything okay?” He glanced above them, they had a clear view up to the ceiling from their place on the staircase. Abby couldn’t look up for more than a moment uncomfortable with heights even from the ground. She’d get dizzy quickly if she spent too long standing and looking up.

She registered his question and was surprised to realize she hadn’t heard anything floral since walking in.

“Yea I’m fine. Just came to get a blessing.” She said feeling foolish.

Can’t tell him I’m being haunted. Can’t explain my plan to bully Talos into helping. Can’t figure out words to stop looking like an idiot.

He nodded and got to his feet, descending quickly to her side, not diminishing his size at all. He put his shovel hands on her shoulders and brought her closer to him. Quick as can be he’d pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back with a cheeky smile.

“Blessing” He said simply and then turned to walk up the steps leaving her alone. Abby laughed in disbelief. That was pretty par for the course in game. She would often jump from building tops or off stairways to land on top of NPCs and chuckle when they gave some standard dialog not acknowledging that she’d just pile driven them in full heavy armor. This had been just like that. She thought how unrealistic it was when playing, loving the silliness of it but here she was coming down from a tumble and crashing into a half giant model who simply set her to rights and wandered away.

“Fucking Bethesda” She shook her head. By the time she mounted the first step there was no trace of the beautiful curly haired man.She might have thought she’d dreamed him up except she felt his body beneath hers solid and undeniable.

At the top of the stairs she saw the chapel set up from the game with 8 smaller altars along both walls and a bigger circular altar, situated in front of the pews. Clearly designed for worship of the altar in the center. Abby approached the big alter curious if she’d be able to tell the difference. In this game they’d all been shaped like small pillars in her mind’s eye, only able to tell whose was whose by pressing A for the blessing and name.

These were also not labeled, she’d have to ask Martin if there was a traditional line up or some liturgical practice that went with knowing them on sight. She was surprised to see when she reached the edge of the big altar, the middle held a basin of water.

Religion is religion I guess. It was almost odd not to have a reply from the Mad God after all this time with his voice. But it was silent in the big empty room, only faint noises from outdoors audible from the far end where she’d crashed into the building.

Abby hesitated. No desire to pray like she had at Weynon Priory when she was feeling desperate for help and afraid she’d ruin things with Martin. She didn’t want to plead for a blessing here.

“Blessings” She reached up and touched her forehead where the pretty man had kissed and a wild thought crossed her mind. Abby turned her back to the fountain, checking to make sure no one was going to interrupt and then shimmed down back on the lip of the altar head diving for the water inside the altar.

It was insanely cold and she shuddered at the sensation of her hair soaking up water and her ears getting splashed when she disturbed the surface. She stretched a bit further to submerge herself looking up like she was floating in a pool.

It was soothing ears filled with the silence only water can make. Her ears full, her mind calming for the first time in days. She probably looked like an idiot but damn it felt good.

Thank Talos. She would not be doing that again anytime soon because as she spoke the water around her made a deep GONG sound and glowed bright golden white. She was startled by the noise and the active magic, lost her balance again and tumbled completely into the water, spluttering and trying to drag herself upright.

There was no need because she was yanked up by a white haired irate man with a fearsome scowl who was yelling at her and ranting about drunkard heathen nords. Abby didn’t have any time to protest or pull herself together before she was being taken to the castle by the same yellow clad guards she’d admired earlier.

***********************************

In true Hero of Kvatch fashion, Abby’s luck had her dragged into the castle at the same time Jauffre, Martin, Demetri and Aaron were entering the courtyard being lead by the huge beautiful man who’d rescued her earlier.

This time he was dressed in a yellow tabard, his hair secured in a fierce braid along his head.

Surely that’s not regulation? She thought curiously and began dragging her heels in earnest waiting for them to notice. She could have called out but she really didn’t want to draw any more attention than she already had to herself.

“This is so embarrassing.” She muttered, stalling with all her weight like a child who didn't want to go where their parents were taking them.

“Maybe don’t get drunk in the chapel then eh?” the guard escorting her to the right grunted trying to tug her along.

“I wasn’t drunk, I was just!” She began again.

“Yea yea getting a blessing. Come one you can sleep it off in a cell.” The other guard said annoyed at having to deal with her. Thankfully they finally attracted the attention of the blades and two beautiful men accompanying them.

“Little Bird! What trouble are you in now?” His voice caused the guards to halt and turn. He was really loud, because they hadn’t come all that much closer.

So much for covert, she thought annoyed. Jaurffe’s pinched face told her he was clearly trying to call on some nonexistent reserves for patience. The rest of their party was trying to hide their sniggering.

“Took a dunk in the Altar of Talos.” The first guard said his tone clearly deep suffering as if drunken shenanigans were a daily occurrence for them. Maybe they were because the loud guard just laughed heartily at this.

“That’s a strange way to get your blessing.” He beamed. He motioned for the two beside her to let her go. “To each their own I say! I’m Burd, Didn't have a chance to introduce myself earlier, I was late to meet your group” He smiled and lots of his teeth were visible. Somehow they were all incredibly square, like he could easily munch on rocks if he needed, grinding them to dust with easy and loud laughter.

“Abby, but you can keep calling me little bird.” She beamed back and held out her hand to shake his massive one this time, happy to meet the brave character she'd always known and her double savior here in fake life.

“Oh Abigail, you make friends in the strangest places. Come let's go inside and you can tell us about your meeting and your skinny dipping in consecrated ritual water.” Martin seemed curious and he searched her face for a moment before nodding to himself. Satisfied with whatever he saw.

“Ah your mysterious Hero.” Captain Burd said as if this made complete sense. Perhaps it did, Abby hadn’t met any other adventurers and perhaps they were all idiots and impulsive and reckless. “Good to meet you, Hero.” He said and began leading their party inside.

Abby gave a quick look at the guards who had dragged her here, both looking somewhat incredulous at her release and acknowledgement by their Captain.

She stuck out her tongue at them before rushing after her party.

All this drama because you don’t like Daisies?

Abby bit her tongue with a yelp as soon as the door shut and scowled.

Notes:

Don't stick your ears under mystery water, sanctified or not

Chapter 17: Bruma

Notes:

Sorry this took so long. I had a hard time writing it but fear not the story outline exists all the way to the end and we'll get there eventually! :)

“I wasn’t naked in the altar, just so you know.” Abby muttered to Martin softly while Burd finished leading their group to a small barrack with four beds. Martin smiles patiently, eyes still trained on their guide.

“I know, your clothes are still wet.” Abby looks down and that’s true. Her breaches are mostly dry, a few metal divots hold a drop or so like glass after rain but the leather is dry already. She assumes it was treated with something to help waterproof it, but she’s not a tanner, nor an armorer, that much she knows about her old life. Her bracers and boots are similarly dry enough or at least damp enough to simulate their past few days of travel and therefore beneath her notice.

Her gray shirt however is completely soaked. It’s not clinging to her anymore like when she was hauled from the water but it’s still rather see-through. The surprise and subsequent arrest had pulled her attention from this but as her brain realizes it, her body permits the sensations to come in full blast and it’s fucking cold. Even inside.

Her nipples which were pebbled unhappily at the mix of sensations understand they’re being watched and harden achingly fast. Abby crosses her arms in misery.

“I knew that.”

“Liar.”

He was kind of annoying for a king wasn’t he?

“Get cleaned up and join us for dinner in the hall downstairs.” Burd gave a suggestion and an order all at once. He was brisk in the way Nords were famous for but very personable. Likely why he was able to be a guardsman with such a wild mane. Or Captain rather.

“Where did you get off to?” Jauffre’s judgmental tone made Abby wish for a moment she’d drowned in the chapel.

“Chapel, had a headache.” She said breezily.

“And thought diving into holy water was the best cure?” He had his arms crossed and, unlike Demetri and Aaron, wasn’t getting ready for dinner in any hurry. Clearly he wasn’t going to let the story pass. His blades had curious looks on their faces but at least were trying to look away and not interrogate her.

Abby searched his face for a moment. She could tell him about Sheo and risk him knowing Martin had lied and only she was being haunted. She could make up an illness that the rain had stirred up. Lying risked pushing him further away, and being head of the secret government could have her vanished if she wasn’t careful.

“It was a migraine. Tried to clear it for days. Martin could barely speak without setting me to crying. Magic didn’t help.” A hesitant middle truth. “I figured a blessing might get it gone. And then I tripped.”

“And fell into the water?” Jauffre said indignantly. “Then how were you arrested?!”

“Ah no I fell over the rail down the steps into the stairwell and onto Burd actually.” She blushed as the two blades eavesdropping tried to hide their laughter. “After he left I went to the altar and saw the water. I didn’t want to pray, I didn’t know how to get the blessing otherwise. But I thought maybe dunking my head would help.” She blushed and felt like a lunatic explaining what happened.

Maybe he will guess I’m the one being haunted.

Soon my mark on you will be unmistakable.

Abby shuddered violently at that in a way that had nothing to do with her damp outfit. It was a good excuse to turn away however and rummage in her backpack for her spare dry shirt.

“I was bent over soaking my head when the altar activated! Glowed gold and made a noise that startled me. Ended up falling into the water.” She said tugging at the straps for her bracers to change out of the offending wet garment. “And then the priest showed up and was all like “drunken nords”” Abby mocked his voice, annoyed at the entire Bruma experience so far but particularly the parish snitch. 

“Then you were arrested.” Jauffre finished. Abby grunted her assent and tugged off both bracers, tossing them to the bed beside her. “Bad luck I suppose. That Falvius fellow hates Nords to be honest and finding you swimming in the altar would certainly put him over the edge.”

“Lucky me” Abby tugged off the wet shirt and pitched it in the corner. She had pulled her head through her clean shirt when she had a vision of the door opening and Burd walking in to see her bare chest. She turned more toward the corner as she pulled her arms through annoyed by the errant daydream.

Sure, Burd was pretty. He seemed friendly, she remembered him as being an excellent Ally in the main quest and he sure had nice hair but why would she be thinking about flashing him when Martin was right there?

Annoyed, she turned back to the group and realized there were only 4 beds in this room.

“Am I staying here too?” She asked, grabbing the strap of her bag to move it if necessary. The three blades exchange looks.

“I assumed you’d bunk with Martin. You do share a tent.” Jauffre said somewhat defensively. Abby shrugged and rearranged her things, which had quickly sprawled the length of the bed to one side of it. They would both fit if they stayed very close in the night.

No different than what they’d been doing on the road really.

Plus Martin was a cuddler.

The others were taking their sweet time getting ready for dinner, even Martin. Abby who had changed while they spoke was already ready to go.

"I'm going to walk ahead!" The four men gave waves and sounds of acknowledgement. Abby slipped out of the room in favor of wandering around a bit. Maybe to dinner or maybe to explore. There were no castles in Florida.

“Well one” She thought with a smile, hand trailing along the solid cool rock. This was the first she’d been in that wasn’t burning down around her ears. She had a vision of herself carefully climbing stone steps while they were in Oblivion but she was sure that must have been on a trip or perhaps a dream. This was nicer than the remembered cramped staircase, the castle Kvatch or her impression of the city walls of Chorrol.

She reached the end of a corridor and saw an opening to the landing of stairs.

Up or down?

“You’re sick, Logellus!” A voice behind her made her dart into the stairwell and flatten herself against the wall to listen.

“Whattt like you weren’t thinking about it too? We would have had to get her out of all that wet clothing or she’d get sick!” A laughing voice replied.

“That’s true but you’re in no hurry to get her into something dry to just be a letch!” The first voice wasn’t scolding his companion, just commenting. Their voices continued on until she couldn’t hear them anymore.

Does every city guard have a pervy asshole? She shuddered.

Up it was then. Down also now seemed like a good way to find the prison and nasty guards she’d narrowly avoided earlier.

The wall must not have been very tall because she was at the top after less than 4 flights. Perhaps Oblivion just had lots and lots of ups and her view of the normal height of buildings was off?

The door at the top landing opened to the roof and open sky. Abby peaked around curiously but didn’t see anyone so helped herself out into the open. The sun had sunk behind the Jerrals and a navy blue was beginning to darken the sky quickly, chasing the sun away to bring in the two moons and begin the night.

The wall nearest her overlooked the city and castle courtyard. Someone was methodically traveling from lamp to lamp lighting them in the city as a zig zag of light became visible down each row she could see of the city below. A guard was also lighting the sconces in the courtyard.

She missed lights with a sudden fierceness that made very little sense and so she quickly turned away to continue walking. She couldn’t remember what exactly about the lights made her melancholy but she knew looking at lights was a special thing, something she shouldn't be doing alone. She felt a strong longing for home when she was looking at them. 

To her left the roof rose to a point that helped push rain down, she wondered where she could see it from inside as she traced the ground looking for gutters or an outlet to explain why she wasn’t standing in a shallow bath, again.

Eventually Abby saw that every other stone had a narrow slit at the base of the wall, likely to drain rain. She couldn’t fathom how they’d set them up to hover and allow the inch or so to do the draining while making the wall sound but she wasn’t an architect.

“Or if I was, I wasn’t a medieval architect.” She shrugged, continuing to pick her way around the roof. On the far side of the wall facing to the west she looked down to see a ragged cliff face, which made the wall she’d called short seem impossibly tall with its height compared to the ground so far below.

“Or maybe I was?” She said in surprise because before her a few feet cut out of the wall was what her brain was absolutely calling a murder hole. It was likely to dump hot oil on invaders but the cliff face made her frown a bit.

Who would climb this in the hopes the top would be unguarded? Maybe it was for taking exceptionally smelly shits? She snorted at her own silliness but studied the walls carefully for signs it was used as a toilet. The stone that made the drop was the same gray unassuming color as the rest of the castle she’d seen so far so probably not. She even lit her hand with a soft golden healing spell to see the walls clearer but nothing.

Kiss it.

When Abby wasn’t on the rooftop alone, and was back with her and Julian’s journal, she would make a note to NEVER listen to an idea that the Mad God offered her. However right now she whole heartedly agreed without really considering what she was doing.

Of course she should kiss it. That’s what everyone did.

Logical really.

Abby quickly sat back to the wall legs scrunched flat to avoid the incline of the roof and scooted to the ledge.

“ Apparently today was brought to you by arching my back over awkward shit” She said, bracing her hands on either side of the square opening. Absently glad her glasses were gone in this world. Braced as best as she could, Abby stretched herself out to reach the far wall. It was a lot farther than she thought and she stretched farther, feeling herself shift slightly on the edge of the hole to reach farther.

It wasn’t far enough.

After another minute of adjusting and shimming Abby finally planted her feet in frustration and pushed herself to the other wall lips pressing against the wall as she smiled. The smile quickly changed to a flash of fear because she had shifted herself too far and now the majority of her weight was down the hole.

The murder hole! 

Irritation and fear

The murder hole!

Elation and a sick sense of joy. 

She didn’t have time to appreciate the irony as she struggled to steady herself. Thankfully she didn’t really have to do that either because hands suddenly clasped around her waist and pulled her backward up like a wayward toddler. She stilled completely scared moving would cause her rescuer additional strife. Abby was soon very very close to the face of Burd who had sat down completely against the roof cradling her in his lap for the second time today.

Both of their chests heaved with adrenaline and Abby felt her temples pulsing with the blood now rushing in the correct direction with ease. Burd’s icy blue eyes were blown wide with fear and the city lights behind him gave his hair an ethereal glow like he had a faint halo.

“Wow!” She gasped. Burd smiled his square teeth all on display for a moment before he shifted his knees to dump her even further in his lap and moved a hand up to pull her face into his.

Bruma’s Captain of the Guard, a very large, very handsome man was kissing her. 

Abby’s mind blanked a bit, hands curling into his shirt on his shoulders, body relaxing into him. His mouth was warm and a bit dry. The hand on her face moved to the back of her neck and she shuddered strongly at the feeling of him holding her skull so entirely. Her shudder must have opened her mouth slightly because his tongue quickly pressed into her mouth happily greeting her own. 

Abby pulled back in surprise at the sensation. They were still terribly close, still sharing air. He was still smiling.

“You’ve got to stop saying such sweet things Little Bird, you’ll give a man a complex.” He was whispering so softly she might not have heard him if he wasn’t so close to her. She didn’t think he had that kind of control in him.

She blushed being reminded that this was the second time she had greeted him with an astonished ‘wow’ on seeing him. She pressed her forehead to his eyes, closing to hide from her embarrassment.

“Your Guard Logellus is dirty.” She said suddenly sitting back a little to let him see her entire face. “He was being really pervy about me earlier and I think he’s going to murder that woman on the north side of town with the big gaudy broach.” She grimaces because if he asks how she knows about the murder she’ll be hard pressed to explain it.

Abby’s also not sure why she mentioned it now, sitting in his lap fresh after being kissed. It was a good kiss and she does like Burd, always had before and after meeting him maybe more.

Let’s be moons together Martin, Her lips turn down slightly remembering it. Martin wouldn’t really care. She still wished he were here.

“I’ll look into it.” He nods after studying her face. He doesn’t prompt her to get up or ask why she was hanging off the ledge like an idiot. “You’re only here until morning, try not to drop off anything else tonight, Little Bird I’m going to be off duty, might not make it in time to catch you.” He let both his hands fall to her hips again while he spoke.

He’s really nice. She wishes she were that effortless that immune to awkwardness. She’d figure out a way to change universes again if she kissed someone they didn’t even acknowledge it.

A bark of laughter echoed in her ears at that line of thought.

Trying not to think too hard, Abby pressed a quick kiss to the end of Burd’s nose and dismounted his lap crawling away from him and the murder hole before standing up shakily. Burd was smiling again when she turned and he easily climbed to his feel like she spent lots of time lounging near the murder hole.

“Lets get to dinner Little Bird, your priest is going to miss you soon.” His hand rests easily on her lower back and they make their way back around the roof past the view of the gently glowing city and inside the safe sturdy stone walls.

At dinner Abby sits beside Martin and focuses on her venison steak. It’s possibly the best thing she’s eaten since she arrived here and suddenly the exorbitant price of the meat makes more sense to her. She’d always made a point to buy any alchemy ingredients that restored health when on low levels to reduce the need for potions consumption. She smiles to herself thinking about the Dragonborn pausing mid fight to each 35 similar steaks and cheese wheels.

CHEESSSSE!!

She grunts, wishing once more for a mute button on the otherworldly connection to Sheogorath.

At least it’s not Sithis. She tries to console herself.

Lucky that! He’s boooooring as can be.

“And what about you Adventurer, how are you finding our fair city?” A cool feminine voice brings Abby’s attention back to the gathering and she realizes the Countess Narina has addressed her directly. Everyone is still eating but they have paused speaking to listen to their reply.

“It's delightful.” Abby smiles trying to remember what she knows of this woman. She was a bad ass leader through the Oblivion crisis. “I had a chance to visit the chapel, very austere gentleman leading the masses!” She does her best to frame it as a compliment rather than complaint. She turns her head to sip her water goblet and her eyes light on a row of display cases at the far end of the hall. Swallowing quickly she remembers another fact about this woman.

“I also went to the roof earlier, got a bit turned around,” She added quickly at the frown that graced the brunette woman's mouth. “Enjoyed the city being lit from on high, but tell me, do you know why you have a murder hole on the western wall near the cliff face? Surely no one has tried to climb that!” Abby was hoping some Akaviri asshole had tried because that was who this woman was she remembered.

Narina’s face lit up with the excuse to talk about her favorite subject and Abby saw more than one person, noble and servant alike, give long suffering looks to each other.

“Why yes actually!”

Abby doesn’t have to speak for the rest of the meal. Narina speaks for a long time about some long ago battle where the Akaviri did just that and scaled the cliff face. After the fight the Bruma Count of the day had cut into the stone a murder hole for dropping oil down on the next reckless invaders who thought trying the cliff would be safe.

When her story finishes Jauffre takes care to steer her to modern day discussions about Cloud Ruler Temple and Bruma and the logistics of defense for both in the coming months. Abby’s happy to check out and study the seated nobles across from her making sure not to rest her eyes too long on any particular one and accidentally start another conversation.

Burd is across from her two seats down and Abby tries not to let her gaze linger on him either for too long. He’s tucked his raven curls behind his ears and is focused solely on the plate. He does catch her looking once and winks at her before returning back to his meal. Martin notices and smiles at her blushing.

Abby flushes more at being caught and turns her attention away from the seated group back toward the servants and glass cases of Akaviri trinkets. The guard from this morning is talking softly to a high elf woman fussing with a serving tray. The woman’s eyes suddenly snap sharply upwards like a hawk and zero in on where Abby and Martin are seated. Abby can’t tell who she’s staring so completely at but it’s unnerving either way.

Spies in Bruma, her mind whispered thinking of the quest in game. It would be much harder to deal with this in real life. She’d ask Burd for his name and make sure Jauffre knew it but not much else to do but wait.

The guard and servant left the room toward the kitchen and Abby felt her unease spike. Better to have them visible but nothing she could do about it now.

Dinner dismissed and the assembled guests and castle regulars all disbursed in small groups. The largest of the groups went to the library for a nightcap. Abby was tempted to follow but she’d want to peruse the books rather than drink. She didn’t imagine it was the kind of Library you could borrow things from, rather just a collection for Bruma’s elite. She frowned at that and vowed to drop by in the morning to see if she could pilfer a book before they moved on. Looting the Castle Kvatch so entirely had her itching to explore everything here as well and see what she might relieve them of.

“Are you going to cause trouble Abigail?” Martin drew her from her thoughts and held the door to their room open. Demetri, Martin and Abby had decided to return and attempt to rest rather than socialize like Aaron or scheme like Jauffre.

“Maybe” She shrugged. Demetri, immune to their banter, rolled his eyes and fell dramatically into the bed with a sigh.

He had a lot of faith in a medieval bed he’d never even sat in. She imagined the bed collapsing and leaving a dust cloud like cartoons did. Perhaps because he had shed his armor he thought his weight wouldn’t bother the bed. Abby also didn’t know how beds were made here, so she wasn’t a mattress maker or furnisher she assumed.

“Just thinking. Bed tho?” She asked, gesturing at their narrow bunk. Martin nodded and turned his back to change into his sleeveless enchanted shirt for sleeping. It was likely cooler. It was a hair unsightly for the king, that's why he wore it in private she tried to reassure herself absently. 

It was to keep her in line. She pouted but ran a hand over the single pillow on the bed. Soft enough, better than their packs.

Abby climbed into the bed while Martin continued to get ready for bed, changing into cotton trousers from his pack before climbing in beside her. They were both silent as they shuffled about getting comfortable. It was one thing to get so close in their tent, where no one was at risk of falling off and they had some small privacy given by the canvas walls. Here they were both exposed to the other members of the room. There were other options and they were both opting to share in public where people knew. Burd also must know because he gave them a room with only four beds. 

The "public" was just Demetri as of now. Abby poked her head up curiously and saw he had rolled to his side away from them and was breathing evenly. Maybe just falling into slumber or pretending so he didn't have to talk to the presumed lovers.

She plopped back down to the pillow smiling at Martin and how comically close they were. The angle and proximity made him look a bit like an owl with how wide his eyes were, and Abby could honestly only see one of his eyes properly. Martin grinned back, also amused by their predicament. His hand at last wove around her waist to pull them closer and secure them both in the bed.

A soft snore ripped through the stillness and their smiles became snorts of giggling at Demetri. It was odd to sleep like this.

“Good day?” She murmured softly. If he didn’t hear her he surely felt the push of her breath on his face. He made a soft sound in his chest and Abby felt his air pant back at her. It couldn’t be smart to keep sucking in the same oxygen but she didn’t want to look away or adjust to get fresh air. “Me too.”

A moment passed.

“Burd and I kissed.” She confessed to him. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, Martin wasn’t going to care. But he was right that this wasn’t something she did often. Physicality or even relationships. She did know however that talking it out was key. Secrets always ruined things.

“I’m sorry I missed it. You would look well together.” He whispered thumb beginning to trace back and forth on her side. “Did you have fun?” He made it seem like that was the only thing that mattered.

“It was fun, I missed you a bit. Is that foolish?”

“Mm. I don’t think so. I want you to always think of me. Selfishly I hope every man you meet reminds you of me and after you have him, you’ll tell me all about it as you have me.” He was the first to move, resting his chin on her head. The air up there must have been sweet, the air under was now sweeter if not a little warm between their bodies. She blushed realizing what he was saying. “I don’t think I will be ready for all that I desire with you for a while yet. Rushing will be unwise no matter what I want. I don’t expect you to be chaste, if that is your worry.” He shrugged.

Abby felt much better about the kiss hearing this. A little surprised he was so in favor of the idea. Maybe lots of men were like this and she’d only known possessive unpleasant ones? Maybe Martin was even more special than she realized.

“What about being Moons together?” She whispered, eyes closing.

“Are Masser and Secunda alone in the night sky?” He grunted, shifting his arm more comfortably to rest under the pillow. In doing so he disrupted her half of the pillow and she slid completely off the pillow to avoid the feeling of his arm running under her neck.

This resulted in her face being pressed just under Martin’s tits and his hand now coming to rest on her shoulder. Martin huffed with laughter causing her face to temporarily smoosh more against his middle.

“I live here now.” Her voice was muffled completely by his torso but he likely felt each word spoken into him, even if he didn’t understand it. He didn’t make any effort to move her, just folded his arm that had been around her under the pillow to allow more air to reach her.

He was truly the easiest bedfellow she’d ever had.

They were both quick to slip into sleep enjoying the warmth of each other, the softness of the first real bed she’d used in Nirn and the steady snores from Demetri across the room.

The room was peaceful.

Abby's sleep however was anything but.

Notes:

Is there anyone out there?

Chapter 18: Of Nightmares and Daydreams

Summary:

A bad night followed by a very good morning.

Notes:

Once more here be horny

Abby would be the first to tell you she wasn’t good at sleeping. Falling asleep, sure but getting a peaceful rest of the entire recommended 8 hours? Unlikely. She knew she talked in sleep, she ground her teeth, she spun like a rotisserie chicken in the night and even snored without enough pillows to keep her quiet. Above all that, no matter how long or lacklust the sleep Abby would dream. Her mind was never truly calm.

In the small barracks in Bruma, unaware she was dreaming she slept and began to sweat.

She was back in the woods, hurrying as the sun began to fade. She tried turning at random intervals to shake the feeling of being followed. Each misdirection led her into denser trees and soon she was having to slip between narrow trees like bodies in a crowd. Her pursuer was just beyond her sight but she knew to stop moving was to greet death.

In a fit of desperation Abby finally made a sharp adjustment to the left squeezing between a gap in the grove that had her knees and legs scraping against the rough bark with her awkward clambering. She got her other foot in and paused to look around assessing her next move.

She wasn’t able to go anywhere because she had entered a cluster of trees wound so tight the only entrance was the crack she’d entered through. The walls looked more like a cave than forest. She might have thought it was a cave except on the trunk of each tree around her hung the innocent looking wooden telephone she’d feared so much her first day in the forest.

“Oh fuck.” She despaired spinning around once more. If she went back out of the crack, she might fall into the clutches of the thing following her. If she lingered any more in this timber cavern the phones would…

It was too late as if reading her thoughts each phone began to ring shrilly vibrating in the hooks like cartoons.

Normally there was only one phone.

Normally she picked it up, suffered and then woke up crying.

The phones began to ring out of synch with one another as if the caller had hung up and began dialing at random intervals. Panicked Abby picked up the nearest phone.

“I do what I must do. I cannot stay to rebuild Tamriel…” Abby slammed the phone down shutting the hollow Martin from her TV up. His phone began ringing again almost instantly.

Abby quickly knocked it off the receiver and moved to the next willing them all to fall silent. The fake Martin shouted into the air, too far to hear but she knew the contents of his speech.

“Miss Abigail, we know what he did to you so don’t lie about it.” She felt sick and dropped this phone quickly.

“They’ve hit the second tower.”

Confusion and guilt too young to understand.

“Just let it rest already!”

Her mother, always wishing her silent.

“No! I’m not going to say it I don’t love you stop aski…”

Her father, regretting getting laid 31 years prior.

“Why did you leave me here?”

Her usual nightmare.

“Where are you?”

Panicked accusation of a friend.

“I see you”

Threat.

The callers all shouted their piece faster than Abby could drop the phone, She still had four phones left to pick up when the “I see you” rang out.

Quickly all the phones switched to the same deep metallic voice chanting

“I SEE YOU!”

Abby knew she’d been caught. Whatever had followed her was just outside the tree cave. The voices of the phones spoke in time with her thunderous heartbeat. She turned the phone nearest her and yanked hard on the phone cord pulling it with ease from the brown wooden box. The phone itself continued to chant unbothered by her vandalism. She wrapped the phone cord around hand and prepared to swing the phone at whoever or whatever had followed her to this hell hole of bad news and misery.

She swung it gently wishing something would happen already.

She noticed suddenly that the sounds had stopped. None of the phones were broadcasting their ominous message. None of her heaving breaths were audible to her. Her heart felt silent in the cavern of the chest.

The narrow opening between the trees was black on the other side leaving her eyes straining to keep watch. See the threat before it saw her.

A heat creeps into the clearing causing sweat to pool rapidly at her hairline.

A growl echos vibrating her bones and through the ground.

A flaming red eye appears in the gap, a horrible yellow and black pupil focusing in on her.

She opened her mouth to scream, phone blackjack forgotten in the face of this new horror.

No sound came.

Abby flailed aggressively for a moment brian certain she was falling. Her hands come up to clench quickly on the edges of the bed. Her heart hammered. She sucked in a fat gasp of air desperate for oxygen.

She was in bed alone. Which was good because of the amount of movement she’d probably been doing would have upset even the kindest bed fellow. Abby looked around the room with a small frown. None of her companions were there in bed still and Martin had vanished. Abby sat up realizing their packs were also gone. Had they left without her for some reason?

Why would Martin do that? She realized her own pack was also gone. That would be even more unusual. He knew how attached to her pack and belongings she was. Having that bag was the only reason she’d lived long enough to make it to Kvatch. And in Oblivion. She felt a flash of fear for Julian’s journal, the last thing that was singularly his in this realm. Proof he was real.

Abby got to her feet and rushed to the door determined to chase down the band of blades and rejoin Martin. Her feet were bare and her boots were also missing. She huffed in irritation and yanked on the door.

It did not budge.

“What the hell?” She braced against the stone wall and heaved backwards trying to stop herself panicking. She hated being locked in. Waking up in a prison cell like the true Hero of Kvatch might have sent her into hysterics.

“Stop all that ruckus!” A voice snapped from behind her. Abby spun surprised because there had certainly been no one in the room when she woke. Behind her stood a familiar man, in an unfamiliar outfit. His hair fell at this chin behind his ears and was sort of slicked backwards at the front. She tried not to laugh at her brain providing Mafia Mullet as a description.

He must have heard it too because he glowered and ran a hand through his hair self consciously. In addition to his rather odd hairstyle in place of his standard purple and orange outfit was a similar get up of white and gray. She’d never seen him look so washed out in all honesty.

“That’s enough from you Mortal” He glared again.

Okay all thoughts on broadcast here.

“Where is everyone?” She asked moving forward to take a seat back on her bed.

“Still here. You’re curled against your princeling as we speak. Almost awake you are, hence the drab local.” He gestured around the room. “I’d have taken you somewhere flashy!”

“Yea?” She was still dreaming. Did that mean she dressed him so somberly?

“Like Idaho!” He beamed shouting the “HO” part so it echoed off the stone walls.

Fake stone walls, real echo? The brain was amazing.

“Your brain certainly is.” He agreed with a devious smile.

“What do you know about Idaho?” She asked, it was impossible to truly distract him when he was listening to her wishes to distract him. But thinking too strongly about it made her head ache.

“You’ve never been. I love a good potato.” He shrugged. “Listen Mortal, we don't have much time. You must wake up. Wake up and put on that little Amulet of Mara you have in your pocket. Properly you, crackpot sorcerer.” He crooned crackpot like he’d said “love” and waggled a finger at her.

“Why? I don’t understand Sheogorath. Why am I here? Where is Julian?” Frustration swelled in her. Couldn’t he just speak plainly.

Probably no actually. He didn’t seem capable of it.

“I’ve been working on the amulet while you’ve carried it around. Not actually blessed by Mara you know, Do you think she has time to do love AND manufacture necklaces? She’s only divine!” He said exasperated as if this was a common question he received. “Should protect you from more dreams. You will not dream of Dagon when you are mine. You will not be courted by Vaermina.”

Abby hadn’t realized how close he had gotten while speaking until he spat the name of his Daedric sibling and a drop landed on her cheek. She flinched.

“You belong to me, little hero. Sanguine’s boy may claim your heart.” Abby shuffled up the bed trying to create distance between her and the grey haired god. As his voice rose in volume he seemed to swell to take more space in the room.

“Others may claim your body. But it is I who called you here. I who command your soul! You called my name.”

Abby was speechless. She didn’t know what to say to his blatant declaration of ownership. She believed in the concept of a soul ,sure. But could a soul not from Nirn be claimed by a Daedra? If souls help power Daedric Princes what would her soul do?

“You must wake up Mortal. Wake and take my protection.” His purple eyes looked exhausted as he shrunk back to the human size he’d started his rant at. He looked old. Sort of frail in his colorless get up. She felt a stab of pity.

His purple eyes flicked up to meet hers and he rolled them slightly and stuck out his tongue. She let out a surprised laugh and felt herself falling backward into the bed and down into the floor.

*****************

“Abigail?”

Abby shot up again in the bed flailing wildly. This version of the dorm room wasn’t empty. Well entirely, the blades were all out of the room, their bunks cleared and remade but a glance reassured her that her pack was still here and Martin was standing near the foot of their bed, hand cautiously outstretched like she was a frightened animal.

She was a frightened animal in fairness. She cleared her throat and sat up, whipping her brow with the blanket to clear the sweat gathered at her hairline.

“ ‘m fine.” She said tossing back the blanket and reaching for her bag. She needed to change. She needed to see the Amulet of Mara and maybe put it on. She needed to write all of this down so as not to forget. She wasn’t going to have time to raid the library if the rest of their companions were already gone.

“You don’t have to tell me but don’t lie.” He rolled his eyes and sat on the tidy bunk Jauffre had left behind. He seemed relaxed and Abby felt a selfish stab of envy that he’d slept so well.

“Are the others waiting on me?” She asked, finding her spare shirt only to realize it was her gray one that she’d dunked in Talos water. She grimaced and sniffed it thoughtfully. It smelled a little damp but surprisingly not too mildewy.

“They are but it’s okay it was planned to give you more time to sleep. You looked pretty miserable even in such a fine bed.” He grimaced.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked abandoning the gray shirt to dig for the amulet the Mad-God had “made” for her. She found it in the pocket of the jacket she and Dar-Ma had been playing with. When her fingers touched it, magic hummed beneath her fingers eager to interact with her life force. It looked exactly as it had when she’d liberated it from the cultist assassin. She turned it over frowning.

The back of the amulet was different than when she’d first picked it up. A hastily scratched triangle with circles inside ordained the metal surface. She ran a thumb over the triangle and felt a rush of calm over her.

Damn it was probably useful. She grimaced. I’ll have to hide it in my shirt or accidentally find a Nord husband.

As if summoned by her thoughts the door opened and the neatly braided head of Captain Burd entered the room. Martin instantly gave him a saucy grin and looked at Abby, eyebrows wiggling faintly in jest.

“Morning Bird!” He smiled at Abby and nodded at Martin. Abby pushed the amulet into her trouser pocket, hoping not to cause problems.

“Morning Burd!” She beamed back. Martin scoffed at her joke but Burd grinned like she’d made his entire day. “Come to see us off?” Burd nodded and closed the door behind him. The hairs on her arm stood up at being in a closed off room with Martin and Burd.

And me.

Two different kinds of fucking me over there. She rolled her eyes at the way her crude joke set Sheogorath to cackling.

“Your tip about Tyrellius was good. We caught him sneaking into the home of Arnora Auria. She’s fine by the way.” He added at her wide eyed look. “Shouted her head off for a few hours but she’s alive and she’ll live to wear that amulet another day.”

“Thanks for taking it seriously.” She said softly. She remembered the girlfriend being very unpleasant but still murder was a bit extreme. “Sorry I mentioned it right after you kissed me.” She brought her hand to her neck sheepishly. Martin barked out a laugh.

“Abigail!! You brought up serious business right after a kiss?!” He laughed. Burd was also smiling, once again immune to awkwardness in a way Abby envied fiercely. Heat climbed in her face and she groaned.

“Maybe?” She said not looking at either man.

“Perhaps you ought to make it up to him.” Martin’s suggestive tone of voice had Abby’s eyes shooting up to look at him in shock. He was still lounging on the other bed but had reached into his pack for her spare, spare shirt. She forgot she'd had a third and was prepared to suffer with the Talos Water shirt. Martin retrieved it from his bag but made no move to give it to her.

“What do you mean?” She asked stupidly, looking from the handsome guard who was grinning rakishly to the handsome prince who looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“It’s not too late to have a good morning, Abigail.” Martin nodded at Burd. “Make it up to the good Captain and change. Two birds. Oh how about that. Two Burds?” He laughed at his own joke and Abby cottoned on to his suggestions to kiss the guard properly this time and flash him when she changed.

Did Martin read minds? She thought, remembering the daydream from the day prior of doing just that. Or maybe I saw the future?

The goosebumps were back with a vengeance at the prospect. She was nervous but knew both men would let her out, or change in peace if that’s what she truly wanted.

“I’m never getting to the library.” She said mournfully to herself but approached Burd.

Shor’s Bones he was big.

Abby’s eyes were level with his pectorals, she could motorboat him with zero effort due to their size difference. She turned her eyes up to his face. He was studying her curiously, face turned down toward her.

“This okay?” She asked, already a bit breathless.

“As long as you’re okay Little Bird.” He nodded.

Screw it.

On the first date?

Abby braced on his shoulders and stretched up as far as she could to meet Burd’s downturned face with her lips. Very kindly he ducked to meet her and tugged her closer to him bodies, falling flush against each other.

He still tasted warm. His mouth was wet and he huffed a breath out his nose while they kissed, filling all her senses with him. She could only feel, taste and smell Burd. The sensations filled her with warmth.

God my breath is probably shit. Burd clearly didn’t care as his tongue eagerly played with hers before he drew hers into his mouth and sucked on it a bit causing her to make a high pitched whine.

Fuck that’s nice. She let her arms wrap around his neck and counted on him to steady them because she was lost to his kiss. It had been a month or so, depending on how you counted Oblivion days, since she’d had any release whatsoever. This felt like setting her skin aflame but also not nearly enough. Being pressed for time made this magical and miserable. She half wondered if they shouldn't say screw it and make use of one of the beds behind them..

“Shame we can’t stay.” Martin’s voice was much closer. He brought her out of the deep lust she was working up a moment before to look at him. He had stepped closer to them. Still not touching them but he’d clearly moved to get a better view. He held her shirt tightly in his fist. Burd acknowledged his words by pulling at her night shirt, soiled from sleep and sweat, upwards. Abby’s heart beat wildly but she didn’t stop him, instead lifting her hands to help him pull off the offending garment.

The shirt fell quickly to the ground and Burd’s huge hands came up to cup her breasts.

Fuck Bruma was rough on her nipples, She was amused and clearly amusing Sheo as laughter began at this thought. She hissed sharply and tuned out the laughter at the sensitive feeling of his warm calloused hands closing on her chest. It felt good. Damn good if she was being honest. Burd’s hands covered her easily and would likely have held her other boobs easy enough too. This man was big all over, she started to feel him pressing against her middle while he tried to consume her neck with kisses.

It was a war of sensations, Burds warm hands and mouth on her neck, the seemingly chilled air of the barracks, the heat that was pooling in between her legs, wet, achey and needy beyond reason. She was shivering but trying desperately not to let either man see it, as they’d either tease or insist they stop. As much as they were pressed for time, Abby would rather Jauffre walk in right now and beg to watch than stop.

“Fuck” Burds ragged voice was devistating. She couldn’t believe this hot, hairy man was losing it over her. She couldn’t believe how much she was losing it. And presumably Martin was having a good time. She turned her head again to look at him and her breath caught. The blue of his eyes was hardly visible around his pupils. His lips looked somehow like he’d also been kissing someone instead of just watching. His gaze was trailing greedily over the both of them and Abby felt a thrill knowing he hadn’t just been saying things. Martin meant he’d happily share her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about being shared until Burd had fallen into her lap.

Or more accurately her into his.

“Here.” Martin tossed the shirt to her rather than step closer. Abby caught it and gave a pouty whine. He was right they were going to be interrupted any moment and the only ones she wanted seeing her like this were in the room. Abby pulled back a little, shoving her arms and head through the shirt. Burd watched hungrily, licking his lips.

Abby grinned and paused the shirt bunched at her collar bone.

“Kiss for the road?” She pushed her elbows together purposely offering her tits with a little jiggle. Martin groaned. Burd said nothing and simply bent to take her left nipple in his mouth sucking hard.

Wicked Mortal She did her best to focus on the solid man before her and not the fourth uninvited intruder.

“Gods!” She was startled by the sensation, even though she had offered him the opportunity. He switched quickly, his hand coming up to pinch at the abused skin his mouth had just left. “Mercy Burd! God I’m not leaving Bruma if we don’t stop.” She groaned, pushing her shirt down blocking both men from seeing her topless and Burd from his quest to leave hickies in place of areolas.

Burd backed up obediently grinning his wide smile that showed all his teeth. Abby let out a breathless laugh feeling giddy and excited that that had just happened. Their eyes met and Abby felt certain she’d have to come back to finish this with him. Martin moaned pathetically drawing both their attention as he dramatically covered his eyes and tried to regain his composure.

All the tension that had been in the room gave way to easy laughter. It was strange to go from so horny to just laughing but it felt natural to step away and release emotion with giggling.

“Martin! We must wake her it’s half a days…!” The door swung open and it knocked into Burd who was standing in front of it, having been sucking on her tits a moment before. “Oh good heavens Captain!" Jauffre exclaimed as Burd moved wordlessly to allow the blade entry.

He stepped into the room and paused.

“I’m up! Was just changing and finishing up some guard business.” Abby said, turning to her discarded clothing, the shirt on the floor from their playing and the one on the bed, and shoving them into her pack hastily.

“Right.” Jauffre said slowly. Abby didn’t know what he was looking at but hopefully he wouldn’t press it. She grimaced at her thought earlier knowing full well no matter how magical the Captain's ministrations felt she would have stopped immediately had Jauffre entered the room.

God Damn Horny Brain, She scolded herself.

“Right.” He said again. “Well walk and talk. We must make for Cloud Ruler Temple.” He exited the room leaving the door open behind him clearly expecting us to follow. There was a moment of silence.

“This is unlike any guard business I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck off Martin. I hate you!” embarrassment warred with laughter. Martin clearly felt no shame because he just cackled and was standing by the door when she turned.

“Can I write to you?” She asked Burd, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. He gave a soft sweet smile and nodded.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. Come visit soon, Birdie.” He took a step forward, kissed her on the temple sweetly and then exited with a brief friendly clasp of his hand on Martin’s shoulder.

Martin looked inordinately pleased for someone who’d been greeted by a man who sort of cucked him. Abby shook her head, gathering her pack and making to follow him.

Burd did not follow them farther than the castle courtyard and saw them off with a friendly wave. Jauffre didn’t acknowledge it but Aaron waved heartily and Abby gave him a grin. The attendant at Wildseye stable had Daffodil ready for them and Abby took a deep fortifying breath before climbing in behind Martin. He was wearing his green priest outfit and she realized he had been all morning so cuddling closer and taking out her lingering desire felt bad and unfair because he was down his “armor”.

She left as much space as she could trying to distract herself by watching the signs of the city melt away. The street, which was a tight cobblestone, tapered into rough stone and eventually a heavy dusting of dirt marked the trail.

“We can talk about this morning later if you like.” Martin offered. Abby blushed hotly.

Damnit.

“Do we.. uh need to talk about it?” She asked uncertainty. She was fairly sure he was on board with her and Burd because he’d literally orchestrated their encounter.

“We ought to. You were very troubled.”

“Oh that.”

“That? What did you think I wanted to talk about?” He teased.

“I just had some bad dreams.” She changed the subject. It hadn’t been more than an hour before she’d woken up. But in her defense it felt like much longer than that with all the pleasant distractions. “I don’t want to really talk about it except He was there.”

“The Mad God?” He asked softly. Abby nodded before realizing he was largely facing forward.

“Yes, he pulled me from a deep nightmare, to tell me he’d worked on something for me. To protect from dreams. I’ll have to have you look at it when we get to the Temple. It certainly feels like him but you can make sure it’s safe to put on yea?”

“If I cannot tell, I’m sure there is a library there we might discover it in.” He shrugged.

“Oh the library!!!” She groaned dramatically thinking of the room she’d intended to pilfer before they left. Her night and morning had been totally thrown off track and she hadn’t taken anything from the castle if you didn’t count a few stolen moments with her captain. Martin chuckled and bent forward for his pack once again tied by Daffodil's grotesque neck mouth.

I’ll never think of it as anything else even if it’s closed.

Good

“When I woke before you and saw your state I took the liberty of picking something up for you.” He explained and furnished from his bag a new book!

Abby gasped and reached for it, plastering her front against his back trying to lunge for the treat. Martin held it out of her reach.

“Say thank you.” He turned his head to look at where she was half leaning over him. Abby’s body stilled completely frozen like a deer spooked in the forest. The only movement caused by Daffodil’s rhythmic marching. She sunk back behind him and stopped reaching for the book.

“Thank you Martin.” She said and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder. He made a noise she felt more than heard and passed the book back. She did and didn’t want to press her luck but reminded herself he was worth the wait and leaned back to look at her treasure.

“You are most welcome. It’s a tome for fire spells!” He was back to nerdy magic lover and gone was the flirty king.

Men!

“This is excellent!! It looks like it goes from basic to a pretty advanced version!!” She skimmed the pages with a glee equal to his own. “Oh yea this is perfect!! Exactly what I would have stolen!” She concluded, hugging it to her front.

“I didn’t steal it!” Martin scoffed.

“Did you ask to take it?” She said doubtfully.

“Well no.” He admitted.

“So it’s stolen?”

“Can the king steal something?” He asked in an innocent voice that indicated he clearly knew he’d stolen it.

“Oh so you annexed it?” She laughed. His voice was all laughter.

“Exactly you get it. This is why you’re my chief advisor of shit.” He patted her leg indulgently.

“You’re the worst.” She laughed and felt significantly more cheerful. Sure today started out shit and yea maybe it was still another world. Still the Oblivion crisis. Still much danger from mortals, daedric and MadMen alike but Martin was good at making it all seem worth it.

At his side it wouldn’t be all that bad.

Hopefully you can prevent his divine fate.

Abby frowned at that invasive thought. She’d do her damndest.

Chapter 19: Cloud Ruler Temple Day 1

Summary:

Okay NOW we're at Cloud Ruler Temple.

Notes:

TW: mention of depression, hinting at previous suicidal thoughts, I've hinted before Abby had a rough upbringing and there's more of that here, inspection of Abby's new body. I tried to keep it generic

The rest of the ride passed with Martin helping Daffodil pick her way down the soft dirt paths and then carefully up progressively more gravely terrain as they approached Cloud Ruler. Abby rode completely at ease with the man and horse steering them on, her new book propped in her hands or occasionally across Martin’s shoulders as she tried out a movement. The tome was exceptionally well written and she wondered at several points if there was one author or rather a collection of academic voices who had come together to teach fire spells. The inside cover listed the author as simply Credence.

“This book is absolutely brill Martin Darling!” Abby sighed contentedly, snapping it shut.

“What are you doing with your voice?” He asked, sounding vaguely horrified. She tried to hold back her laughter.

“That’s what you sound like.” Her attempts to stop her laughter were foiled as she cackled at the indignant yelp Martin gave.

“I most certainly do not!” He said

“Search your heart Martin, you know it to be true!” She cackled dramatically, losing the voice a bit in her laughter.

“Well if that’s my voice this is yours!” He said in a forced southern accent. It really only made her laugh harder. Floridians have a softer accent than most southerners depending on where you lived, but Abby was sure most people didn’t think they had an accent until it was pointed out.

“Not quite darling! But some of my neighbors!” She agreed, amused at how ruffled he’d gotten. Perhaps he was simply bored and glad she’d put down the book “But seriously that book is phenomenal! I think I’m getting it already honestly. My hand certainly felt warmer!”

“Interesting!!” He said, sounding very pleased with himself and completely forgetting she was still mimicking his speech patterns. “These tomes are infused with magic to help readers along. If you have any skill in that school of magic, the book will do its best to help you master the contents. Once you complete your understanding and it can no longer teach you it will vanish, the spell spent.” He went on.

“That explains how I used them back home!” She nodded thoughtfully. “The Hero could read them and they’d vanish right away, spell available in your menu… errr it was written down for use later.” She added not sure how a menu translated into actual Nirn.

“I’d wager many unsuitable persons picked up your book before you, you took to and taught the three spells you do know so well I assumed it would be of some assistance.” Abby was glad it had, the Imperial Battlemage had been very helpful, Salvian too but she felt already she had a better understanding of how to call the fire forward to her fingertips.

Maybe not if she was making use of those day one and still struggling with the book. But she had been under severe stress during that time. And honestly hadn’t been sure it would work. Now however she knew it could and maybe the flames were more intimidating than she cared to admit. It was her intention to master the spell and combine it with her working knowledge of enchantments courtesy of Gweyir Helehorn. She envisioned secret notes that self combusted at the press of a rune, rocks supercharged to act as magical hand grenades, socks that kept feet warm and maybe even gauntlets that protected from flame.

“Do you think there will be a desk I can commandeer? I have a lot of writing to do and I think side by side reading of the explosions chapter and the fire tome would be educational.”

“NO EXPLOSIONS!” came the immediate call back.

“Do you think he cut his hair that way on purpose or is it simply running away from his overbearing personality?” Abby glared at the back of the Blademasters head. Martin stifled his laugh fast enough but Demetri and Aaron were not so lucky and Jauffre quickly whipped his head around to glower at them. Something in his gaze said “you’ll be shoveling horse shit” and Abby did not envy the two. He couldn’t really boss her around as she was not a Blade but he could certainly try or make life miserable for her.

“Also drop that accent, you sound like a drunken wood elf.” He pinched her thigh playfully and Abby laughed thinking of all the times she’d chimed back “by Y’ffre” to an annoying NPC. Unfair for people who were really from Valenwood and whatever part of Earth voiced them but one couldn’t choose a brain itch.

“At the top of this thing, are you expecting Martin to give a speech?” Abby suddenly remembered the arrival in game and Martin’s halted, under-confident speech. It wasn’t bad but he’d also presumably had no time to work on it.

“Gods I hope not.” He muttered but Jauffre had bad news for him.

“I hadn’t considered it but the men stationed here may want to hear from you.” He acknowledged. Martin went quiet at that. “Nothing extravagant.” Jauffre tried to reassure.

“Do you remember what I said?” He asked curiously. Jauffre also seemed interested but was trying to to make it look like he wasn't listening. Abby thought carefully.

“Honestly not really.” He gave a groan of embarrassment. “Honestly Martin!! It was the beginning of everything and that you wasn’t like this you. I think maybe you embraced priesthood a bit easier there. Or maybe it was always a shallow impression destined to fall short of the actual you. He was shy and awkward. Said thanks for protecting me, I’m not really an emperor but still. Can’t wait to work together.” She gave into him hoping that would be remotely helpful.

“Great.” He said dejectedly. Abby nudged his hip with her leg.

“Cheer up Martin, just say Hi, thanks for all your hard work. Short and sweet. Fake it until you make it!”

In the end it didn’t matter Cyrus, Captain Steffan and the rest were so excited to have him here, Jauffre introduced him and they burst out cheering. Abby grinned at their exuberant greeting. Clearly they’d been worried about the dragonfires, or perhaps being perceived as a failure in history’s eyes.

Abby offered up a hearty, “Hail Dragonborn!” from her place at the top of the steps and ended up turning half the crowd away from him anyway.

Shit!

Talos blessed indeed.

Idly she wondered if the blessings in the temple were also the work of an enchanter versus the god, the way Sheo had explained the amulet. Surely the jealous Prince would have something to say about her collecting another god's blessing?

You’re assuming Talos wasn’t half mad himself.

She did not care for that implication one bit.

*************************************************

Their party split almost as soon as the doors to Cloud Ruler closed behind them. Martin and Jauffre went with Captain Steffan to talk business. Demetri and Aaron split, Aaron disappearing with some friendly blades who greeted him excitedly, the less social Demetri toward the general direction of the barracks in the Cloud Ruler she knew.

Probably off to sleep, Demetri was so real sometimes. She likely also ought to go too given the restless night she’d had preceded by many headache nights of Sheo. But instead she picked a direction and began to wander.

Keeping with her experiences so far, Cloud Ruler was much more intricate than in the game. Instead of a handful of rooms, a training courtyard and an expansive wall. They’d already passed a smithy, a stable, some kind of trash composter and on the opposite side of the courtyard to that a rainwater collection system and large barrel for the collected water. There was also some kind of brazier beside it that was currently unlit but Abby was curious to see what it was for. Inside the great hall was largely the same, if not a little longer, similar to Dragonsreach in Whiterun.

Abby amused herself by thinking about running along the long table kicking off plates and goblets on her way to the front to speak to the king, in this case, her Martin.

Her Martin? geeze attachment issues much?

They had only been together a short time, all things considered. Traumatic bonding aside, was it weird to be so focused on one man? Granted the entire story was about him, and she did come into this caring for him a great deal. He also seemed to be enchanting beyond belief, with his pretty eyes, tragic mysterious backstory and promiscuous proclivities.

“He can’t be perfect, maybe he collects toenails.” She shook her head and resumed her walk tossing open a door she was sure led to the library, armoury and back around to the front in game. In reality, Heh, it opened to a long darkened hallway. The dark wooden paneling drenched the room in long shadows that the light cutting through the singular window at the top of the opposite end couldn’t hope to combat on its own.

Actually it was simply cutting across the room at this time of day and blinding anyone walking into the hall of an average height…

Abby crouched quickly wondering if getting below the beam would improve her visibility or cloak her against whatever might be watching her. As soon as she passed below the beam her eyes fought wildly to adjust and she moved to one side of the room still feeling she was about to be leapt on by the shadowed hall. When her eyes did clear an amused figure was staring at her from the other end of the hall arms crossed, assessing.

“Good instincts, recruit.” Her voice was cool and Abby had no problem envisioning this woman as a badass trainer for new enlistments in the government's secret service or maybe a group of assassins. Abby moved forward so that when she straightened she wouldn’t be blinded by the light again not taking her eyes off the woman.

“Neat trick.” Abby said, pointing up at the window. The woman beamed, her smile wasn’t just wolfish because Abby knew that word, but because she looked oddly lupine with her sharp teeth glinting even in the dark.

Damn she was cool.

“Thanks, some Akaviri cunt made it.” She snickered and Abby chuckled too thinking that was fair this place had been built a long time ago. “You have somewhere to be, recruit?” She asked curiously not moving from her spot.

“Oh I was just looking around.” Abby shrugged.

“They let newbies just wander around the Emperor’s secret fortress now?” She raised a brow and frowned standing a bit straighter and seemingly like she was going to detain her. Abby gulped, okay yea that did seem suspicious as hell especially with all the assassinations going on lately.

“Oh I’m not with the Blades, I mean I got here with some Blades, Jauffre.” Abby waved over her shoulder vaguely. “I’m here with Martin, did you uhh.. Not see us get in?” She swallowed as the woman advanced steadily. She couldn’t get into a fight or arrested on her first day at Cloud Ruler, Jauffre would never let her out of his sight again.

Martin would be insufferable.

But you could beg for a royal pardon.

Isn’t Sanguine supposed to be the dirty one?

He likes to share.

Gross.

Pot and Kettle, Mortal.

The guard had backed her firmly into the wall despite not being taller than her during this exchange. Abby wasn’t sure what the play was here honestly, She’d really just been going to the library.

“I’m just fucking with you kid, I heard your loud ass voice earlier. HAIL DRAGONBORN!” The woman cackled backing up.

“Okay that’s enough people making fun of my accent for one day.” Abby let out a breath of relief this blade wasn’t about to lay waste to her in a hallway decorated like 1960s. “But yea that’s me, not sure why I keep being so loud.” She grimaced. The woman sauntered back to her spot on the wall.

“Fuck if I know. Might be a book in there though.” She nodded at a door across from her which Abby might not have noticed, even if she hadn’t been blinded by the trick light. It was seamless in the wooden paneling, only the handle being a slightly raised ridge. Abby studied it curiously and pinched it and pulled. Nothing happened. She pushed it with a sign and the door sprang open silently, its mechanism well oiled so it moved without sound and at the slightest touch.

On the other side of the door was a room packed so tightly with books Abby knew nothing like a fire marshall existed in Nirn. There were a few desks crammed into the corner and one square brown table near the end of the room where she stood but every other surface was covered in books.

Enough to make Hermaeus weep!

What did I tell you about calling on others?

There’s no privacy at all in this brain. She bemoaned stepping through the door.

“Thanks…” Abby turned, planning to shut the woman back into her hall, which she’d presumably been guarding. Abby assumed guard duty would be the only thing that kept an excited Blade from catching a glimpse of the new Emperor’s arrival.

“Caroline, My name is Caroline.”

Abby slammed the door between them.

 

**********************

An undetermined amount of time later Martin came to find her in the library where she was furiously scribbling in her/Julian’s journal.

“Abigail?” Martin asked cautiously seeing how frazzled she looked, tears having long since dried but her eyes still red and annoyed. Her expression, still miserable. Abby rested her pen on the table and put her head in her hands hiding herself from him. “What’s wrong?” He cooed a bit and Abby felt a bit better against her will.

He was annoyingly cute.

“I remembered my sister’s name.” She admitted turning the diary to face him. He pulled it closer, coming to stand beside her to offer his reassuring warmth.

 

I don’t know the fucking date. I barely know where I am. But I finally remember my sister Caroline. She is younger than me, has brown hair and wears glasses. She has short shaved hair and maybe lives with me still? I can remember us cackling about some music we were listening to and dancing in our seats and in the kitchen together. I can’t believe I forgot her. I wish I didn’t remember her. I miss her.

 

“Oh Abigail,” He sighed and pulled her more completely into his side, hugging her. “It is good you remembered. What happened?” He asked, allowing her to pull back from him. Abby grimaced, remembering slamming the door in Other Caroline’s face. She recapped their encounter.

“First she thought I was an intruder, now she’s gonna think I’m insane.” You are “I remember her being a favorite because that was my sister’s name. Felt like I was visiting you both when I came here.” She shrugged remembering the joy she felt in “Find Caroline” after speaking to Martin and chatting with the friendly blade at all hours, to the point a real human would be irate. She vividly remembers waking Caroling the NPC up from sleep just to say hi before heading out. Her memories of her sister are much fainter, she’d frantically written everything that came to her hoping to trap some of it in her mind, or draw out more of it.

“And..” Abby swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know, I know, this is real. Or at least feels real. But I guess I wasn’t worried about going home? Or didn’t know I had someone to miss? I forgot this isn’t my real.” She admitted pushing at the new tears that were falling away trying to stop them.

“Its not wrong to miss her. It’s not wrong to doubt your place here. I can only imagine. I forget sometimes because of how easily you handle this. I remember what you said in Oblivion, pushing down your problems, something you’re good at huh?” He rubbed his hand soothingly along her shoulders resting against the table to face her. “It’s okay Abigail. None of this has to make sense right now.” He offered.

“That’s just the Sheogorath talking in you.” She joked weakly. He huffed out a laugh but didn’t correct her. “I want to sleep but I need you to look at this first.” She pulled from her pocket the amulet with Sheo’s triangle on it and passed it to him.

“Marriage already? I accept of course” He joked absently as he studied the amulet turning it over in his hands.

“What if I collect toenails?”

“Whose toenails?”

“Does it matter?”

“Out of sight out of mind, and never take mine.” He shuddered dramatically, still studying her amulet.

“Weird place to draw the line.” She laughed overjoyed he matched her foolishness so easily.

“We all have to have some boundaries.” He shrugged. “This however doesn’t seem inherently harmful. You won’t die or instantly swear your soul away if you put it on. It might help with nightmares, if he was being sincere in his jealousy for you.” Martin pushed the amulet back into her hands. “Come to bed I think I have the string in my pack.”

Abby was happy to follow Martin out of the room once she collected her pen and journal. She was disappointed her exploring didn’t get much further. She was disappointed she couldn't study the library selection more. Disappointed in her meeting with Caroline and foolishly disappointed that the evidence once again indicated that this wasn’t a dream and she was trapped somewhere far from where she began.

Martin led her out a different door she hadn’t discovered yet which deposited them into the Great Hall, and across to another door that went to sleeping quarters as far as she knew. They passed a few Blades who nodded deferentially to Martin and didn’t question her trailing after him like a lost duckling. They entered another wing of the building, crested a short set of stairs, passed the door Abby was sure went to the barracks and finally stopped at a door that closed off the hallway. Outside of it was a blond guard who was probably NOT Captain Steffan like in game, because didn’t the captain have actual things to Captain? Although Burd hadn’t seemed terribly busy between all the catching and kissing.

The blonde studied them both carefully as they passed. Perhaps assessing if they were allowed there, perhaps just memorizing her face as someone allowed in this room per the Emperor.

The Emperor who tossed open the door and stepped to the side to usher her in. This room was startlingly like game she’d played. Abby wasn’t afraid to admit she’d followed the Hollow Martin in here many a time to see him to bed, or wake him up, or satisfy some violently American instinct to disrespect a royal space by jumping on the Emperor’s bed. Abby smiled a bit to herself and eyed the ceiling. There probably wasn’t enough room to actually jump on this bed. But it was good to have a stress relief plan going forward.

Aside from the massive red bed with metal railing the only other point of interest in the room sat on the dresser at the foot of his bed reflecting the entire room back at them. It was a mirror. The first proper mirror she’d seen here. Misery partially forgotten she stepped forward eyes wide studying the reflection approaching her.

“Holy shit,” She knew this body was different. She knew she was missing fat, glasses and any number of things she hadn’t noticed or remembered yet. But this body was so foreign in its appearance to her. The longer she looked the calmer she felt. She was still tall, still wide, still pale as can be.

“Different than you were expecting?” He curiously asked not joining her in front of the mirror but instead crossing to the bed and toeing off his boots, which were the ones she’d scrounged for him from the cultist.

“Yea a bit! I was heavier there. Nothing like these muscles at all!” She laughed, flexing a bit and touching her arms. “Do you mind if I?” She looked at him in the glass and mimed taking off her shirt.

“The day I complain about a naked body you know I’ve finally been brainwashed to nothing by Jauffre” Martin said with utter conviction. Abby laughed and began to tug at her armor eager to see this body.

It took her maybe 5 minutes to divest herself of all her gear and clothing tucking the armor in a neat pile half under the bed and her clothes tossed in the opposite corner of the room out of habit. They didn’t seem to have hampers here that she’d seen, but really she hadn’t been in very many domestic settings outside of Thorley’s home. It didn’t matter she knew she was lackadaisical about actually hitting the hamper and her own floor she was reasonably sure was covered in discarded apparel.

Her legs were more muscular than they’d ever dreamed of being back home. Her calves were beefy as hell and she laughed, tensing them at odd angles watching them firm and soften with curiosity. They were also covered in a heavy layer of dark leg hair. Her other legs certainly had hair too, She’d grown indifferent about shaving it off in her twenties especially considering it never passed a certain length, thickness or darkness. It was a bit thicker here or maybe just most noticeable because she was looking so intently.

They were sturdy and strong like actual pillars holding her up with purpose instead of just legs because most humans had them. She liked them a great deal to be honest. They led upwards to the dark thatch of curls she was familiar enough with and quickly moved on. Enough pissing in bushes here that she’d see her pussy to know it was largely the same, and with Martin in the room it wasn’t time to do any more in-depth exploration. She turned quickly, offering her backside to the mirror twisting to check herself out.

“Damn this ass is crazy.” She cackled hands coming up to cup the bottom as if she was sitting on them and moved them dramatically, wiggling her ass. It was jiggly, firm and kinda celulite-y and she was obsessed. This was the exact ass she’d always admired on others, coveted and appreciated in equal measure in her partners.

“Something in this is a dream come true.” She laughed to herself and let her hands feel all over her middle as she turned back. Her stomach was much smaller, same width across but at home she’d never dared to think she could share clothes with any person. Here it wouldn’t be unreasonable to ask someone to borrow a shirt, as she could probably fit in it without stretching it out. At least from her middle, her chest was still pretty curvy. She saw the discoloration from Burd earlier in the day and smiled to herself poking the area curiously enjoying the ache and way the skin tightened.

They were still big enough for gravity to be pulling them downwards as was normal with age. Abby had a thought and quickly cupped them upward moving closer to the mirror. There it was her under boob freckle bold as day, on the soft pale underside of her left boob. Abby had always laughed demanding to know at what point in time her breasts had seen the sun long enough to freckle without her notice. 

So this is my body? The freckle, the scar on her hand, the color of her skin, her missing tooth. Many things were different but she didn’t feel like an intruder by any means.

It’s not perfect but you’ll live. Sheograth didn’t sound apologetic but maybe a bit miffed he hadn’t gotten it “perfect” whether that meant her Earth body or whatever new one he’d built here, she didn’t know.

The only other thing she noticed before crowding the mirror to examine her face up close was her hair. It was brown and short enough that pushing it back had kept it out of her face thus far. She’d had it cut shorter at home a few times. She’d also grown it out never cutting it and letting it grow into wild tangles that she never sorted out as a child desperate to stay alive and not worried about her appearance. This was something between those two, sticking up wildly in places, lying flat where she’d been pushing it back in others. It was shorter than Sheogorath’s had been in her dream.

When she crowded the mirror she noticed it was also completely brown instead of streaked with white like her hair at home. She felt another wave of melancholy wash over her. She’d known she’d grown up struggling. Remembered the stress of family, the stress of a religious upbringing, she’d had the nightmare with reminders of all the bullshit she’d left behind. She’d known under the confusion that on Earth she’d be depressed. Remembering Caroline had unearthed some of that sadness from her other life.

“What’s wrong?” Martin asked, maintaining his distance but still entering her line of sight more closely. Abby met his eyes in the mirror and shook her head.

“My gray hairs are gone!” She said feeling a bit foolish. Martin smiled teasingly at her so she continued. “I was really happy to have them. I spent a lot of time not making plans, you know. Why worry about growing up when it may never happen? Picturing a future felt impossible when I was young. So… When I stayed, survived it all, and started to see the grays appear it was like a little trophy.” She shrugged, lowering her gaze in the mirror to avoid seeing any judgement or pity.

“I’d hug you but you’re very naked.” His joke made her lift her gaze to see his eyes crinkled similarly to hers, his with tears, hers with helpless laughter. It wasn’t real pity, maybe understanding. She imagined you didn’t spend years as an alcoholic celibate recovering Sanguinte without a little depression. The Hollow Martin certainly knew self pity and loathing. She shook her head and returned to her close inspection in the mirror.

Her eyes were the same color as home, her eyebrows maybe a little boxier here. Her pupils were still different sizes, which she smiled at. Something about the way she’d been born had caused her pupils to remain mismatched for life. Not terribly noticeable, if one wasn’t inhabiting this body, or staring directly into her eyes. At home they’d been safely behind thick round glass so even less people had seen them. The only differences she could really see were the much clearer skin and the slight point of her ears which at home were decidedly round.

So odd! She played with the end lightly and was surprised how sensitive it was to her prodding fingers.

Satisfied she’d seen everything there was to see about this body today, Abby turned around feeling more calm than when she’d entered the room. Martin had stepped back to give her space to turn but was still watching her intently. It occurred to her she’d been scrutinizing this body naked in front of him for a good long while. And she was reminded very suddenly how attractive he is.

Martin finally met her eyes and smiled knowingly.

Maybe he did read minds

Maybe you are an open book

Maybe shut up

Whatever Abby and the MadGod thought he might have known or said was thrown to the wayside as Martin instead held up her Amulet of Mara now relaced neatly on the leather chord Abby had experimented with in Chorrol. He held it aloft with space for her to stick her head through so she stepped forward bowing her head slightly to help him lift it over.

Martin helped it over and dropped it neatly on her chest, hands tentatively brushing her bare collar bones before retreating. It would have been intimate even with clothes. It would have been sensual even with another amulet or just a necklace. But she was naked and it was an Amulet of Mara. Abby felt like they’d just done something more important than they realized somehow.

“Martin,” Abby pulled his hands into hers holding them solemnly. Martin’s full attention was on her, ready for whatever she had to say next. “You don’t collect toenails right?” His nose scrunched adorably and he rolled his eyes tugging his hands free from hers.

“Get dressed you wretch or I’ll start a collection.” He laughed at her disgusted expression.

All in all the day had not turned out anything like what she’d hoped but she couldn’t bring herself to be disappointed, even as she got back into her same pair of pants and shirt from the day of riding, all her spares in desperate need of laundering. She had Sheograth’s promise of a good night's sleep ahead, one more piece of the puzzle of her old life and an adorable, deviant, kind man curled into her for sleep in Nirn’s fanciest bed barring the Emperor’s bed in the Imperial City.

That one’s GOT to have high ceilings for jumping on. She thought sleepily.

Oh Mortal this is how I know we’re made for each other.

The Mad God’s words went unheard as his reluctant disciple was asleep drooling gently.

Notes:

My sister Caroline swears like a sailor and this Blade will too.

Chapter 20: A Day of Daedra

Summary:

Still shaken by her reminder of her old life, Abby attempts to move forward in her days. But everything feels existential fast and her frustrations begin piling up.

Notes:

First existentialism, then religion, then existentialism around religion, then old reliable (horny)

Abby felt a flash of annoyance as a familiar pain woke her from much needed sleep. It also woke Martin because his bed partner went from still and unconscious to desperately crying out and clutching her leg. Initially he’d flailed awake ready for danger, then he saw her clutching at her leg and merely lit his hand with golden healing magic and fell back to the pillow.

“I guess Sheogorath said it would protect from nightmares, not promise a good night's sleep.” Abby admitted unclenching her teeth and messaging her calf gently. Surprisingly the healing magic only stopped the agonizing cramping and didn’t dull the twingy lingering anger of the charley horse.

They’d both risen sometimes after that, unable to fall back into a good sleep and seeing that it was nearing dawn outside. Abby had watched the sky intently, flexing and tensing her leg methodically to help draw out all the aches. As annoying as the pain in her calf was, it grounded her a bit this morning in Tamriel after her evening spent upset about the world she’d come from.

She took a deep breath trying to focus on her senses. Her experience in this moment in this stone room before a window and view the likes of which she’d never seen back home.

Dawn belongs to Azura. She thought of Julian as the daylight began to chase away the night to the other side of the Jerrals. Abby also had a sudden thought for the Nerverine, she could only assume it wasn’t her original character “Abby”. They likely weren’t a Dark Elf if she had created the character, Julian had been her only Dark Elf character. Typically Abby played Nords or Redguards, with the occasional Breton. She’d once played as an Orc and gave a quick laugh it was likely him because he too had been a complete hand to hand playthrough. She liked playing hand to hand but often used weapons in early stages to speed along tutorials or adventuring. The Orc had been a challenge run, strictly fists.

Whoever they were, she hoped they were okay and having a calmer time than she was. They’d had enough troubles to last them over all their lifetimes. They likely followed Azura too if life had happened the same for them as the story she knew. Abby suddenly remembered the way Sheogorath had antagonized his sister during the Morrowind game, something her counterpart or avatar would have had to deal with.

“Toss me that honey balm.” Abby said suddenly. Martin, who was pulling his shoes on while leaning against their bed, plunged a hand into the bag and pulled it up quickly. Abby spared a half second’s thought for learning how to pull things out quickly, surely there was a faster way than what she knew because the Hero’s menu had to equate somehow? Martin did indeed toss it and Abby was glad she caught the mostly empty vial, despite still not having seen any broken vials in Nirn. She wasn’t eager to discover her first one by dropping it.

Turning back to the stone window sill, Abby coaxed some of the honey mixture out of the bottom of the vial, a good bit having been used in Oblivion against the bitter heat winds. The orange mixture oozed into a line at her prodding and Abby did her best to heat it with her flame spell. It didn’t catch fire but it did heat up and began to stink up the area.

It wasn’t a bad smell, a bit like a campfire and slightly charred honey.

Hopefully Azura thought it was nice enough to listen to her last minute call. She looked up at the mostly bright sky again, the mountains offering her these last few moments.

“Watch over Nerevar, wherever they are. Be kind to Julian if you have him.” She said softly into the stillness of their room.

There was a moment she wasn’t sure it had worked, maybe there was more ritual to all of this? It had to be glow dust or you had to do it at the first light of dawn or dusk. Maybe it was better if a true worshiper did it. Maybe you had to call the name of the Prince you wanted.

Maybe because I belong to Sheogorath? Who was strangely silent on the matter

The line of honey balm caught fire at that thought and burned from both ends to the middle consuming her tiny makeshift offering. She wasn’t sure what it meant but she was satisfied that someone had heard.

“Must you greet every God we encounter Abigail?” Martin said, sounding tired. Abby turned, feeling a bit guilty. She’d made him a party to her spontaneous, possibly blasphemous, actions yet again. “And must you act as if you are their equal?” He said walking over to her. At the window, He encased her in his arms dragging her close to rest his chin on her shoulder.

Abby didn’t think he was necessarily upset, just concerned. He was more familiar than her on the Gods and Princes of this realm on some level. They had been characters to her. They had no power over her where she came from, so perhaps she was being disrespectful or breaking some unknown law by speaking to all of them. But the main character always could. They would pledge themselves six ways to Sunday and just let the powers that be battle it out after their death.

“Maybe they don’t need another worshiper.” She shrugged, not sure what to say. “And it’s not all of them.” She made to pull away and dawn her own boots and unpack the clothing from her pack. Martin gave one last squeeze before relenting.

“Oh just the 9 perhaps?” He teased.

“Okay no that was Azura.” She admitted. Her mind flashed back to the open prayer in Weynon Priory. “Perhaps you’re right.” She dawned her pack with just her journal, pen and books. Martin shook his head but didn’t pester her any further.

They made their way to the Great Hall and took a seat at one of the long tables, they were among the first ones there. The others eating looked like guards who were finishing duty and eating before bed. Jauffre looked annoyed when he spotted them at the long table and came over to lecture Martin that he ought to be at the head table. The two exchanged looks at this and shrugged.

“Perhaps tomorrow.” Martin said easily. While Jauffre continues to nag his Emperor Abby tucked a napkin with sort of pancakes in it and an apple in her bag for later unsure if they served a midday meal for everyone here.

“Unfortunately I can see why that would be wise,” Martin conceded with whatever Jauffre had been nagging him about. “What will you do today Abigail?” Martin asked, turning from the Blademaster in a clear dismissal.

“Can’t I go with you?” She asked, clearly she’d missed something.

“To politicking classes?” He smirked realizing she didn’t know what she was asking. Abby made a face. “I thought not. I’ll give you the low down after. Might I find you in the library?” He nodded to that side of the building. Abby nodded, flexing her leg in a short test. It still protested and therefore no matter how much she probably needed to find the training grounds and get some pointers she would be benched in the library.

“Yes. I’m going to write some letters and try to finish the Fire tome today.” She sighed. She’d been very interested in it yesterday on the ride here but her first day soured the library for her. Martin stood and pressed a quick kiss to her head.

“Sounds fun. Don’t blow anything up.” He muttered

“NO EXPLOSIONS!" They both jumped in surprise at Jauffre who hadn’t even looked up from his plate where he was sitting at the head of the hall, at the table he’d wanted Martin to sit at. Several Blades snickered and the two smiled cheekily at each other.

“No promises.” Abby called back, teasing Jauffre was a familiar almost calming thing to do now. He scowled at her and narrowed his eyes. Abby almost expected him to do the eye to eye thing people did for ‘I’m watching you’. Taking advantage of his lack of Earth knowledge she did it first enjoying the soft indignant squawk he made that he did his best to play off.

***************************************

Abby had jokingly taken a fat handful of paper from the desk in the corner for her letters but it felt like much less of a joke as she neared the end of the stack still working on correspondence. She’d finished letters to Lucus, Livet, Salvian, Lawrence and Ilend, and Prior Maborel so far and was just signing her name to the bottom of a letter full of questions for Dar-Ma and her mother.

As she folded it the way Martin had shown her, addressed the back and tossed it onto the stack she saw she only had two pages for her planned letter. It felt like entirely too much paper and not enough. What does one write in a letter to a sweetheart anyway?

Nothing but first date questions, because she knew very little about this man.

“What’s your favorite movie Captain?" She muttered in a strained voice frustrated with herself. “Oh right.” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

Burd,

I fear I’m going to be rubbish at writing to you for a while because I’ve never had to get to know someone entirely by letter before. I’m going to tell you a bit about my time in Cyrodill I guess, then ask your opinion on boring work stuff you might know about, then ask you a bunch of random shit so we’ll have more to go on next letter yea?

So far I’ve met bandits off the road twice here despite only being in the country for a few weeks! I can’t imagine what traveling on the Gold Road must do to a person’s nerves! I’m glad I abandoned it for the fastest path the last few times. One of the Bandit groups were actually pirates and not terribly good at bandit things. I ended up stealing from him a ring and his boots before we got our things back. Perhaps it’s all the caves, forts and ruins. How anyone can keep them straight is beyond me! The second set of Bandits ended up dead outside Chorrol. Dramatic but Martin got new shoes from it.

Do you think it’s wrong to loot bodies? I can see why it might be bad taste but it’s never bothered me much.

I pulled a muscle sleeping in the fancy bed here last night. The irony of all that time on the road and in the saddle and in the Imperial Suite is where my body finally gives in to the aches! Also don’t think anything of it, Martin’s an insufferable gentleman without you.

Any good ideas for working out stiff muscles or improving physical combat skills? I’m rubbish at swordplay but can throw a mean punch!

Okay about you; Do you have a favorite color? What do you do for fun when you’re not saving the day? Have you always wanted to be a guard? How long have you been growing your hair? Have you ever been to Skyrim? Do you own a house in Bruma? I’ve never owned a house but maybe one day!

Hopefully that’ll be enough to get us started knowing each other properly eh?

Missing your pretty face.

Birdie.

Abby managed to scribble in the signature and dropped her pen and let out a breath she’d begun to hold as she approached the end of the page. She worried that it might have been too much, but honestly she hadn’t even asked if they were getting to know each other or just being flirty and physical.

Being physical with Burd made her face heat and Abby sealed up his letter quickly trying to distract herself.

You could distract yourself with me Mortal.

Abby hesitated for a moment, she hadn’t heard from him all day despite still wearing his token and even giving the offering this morning to another God.

What do you want? She asked curious and cautious. Her last bout of distracting herself with Sheo had led to her upside down falling off a fucking tower.

And getting kissed for it, you’re welcome. Come play with Daffodil.

Abby had an uneasy feeling about that but stowed her things and headed out, in search of their mount. No one stopped her in the Hall, nor on the front porch, nor down the stairs or even entering the stable. She saw a few people but they largely stayed clear of her, going about their business.

“Guess I’m the NPC here” She chuckled, walking the row of stalls looking for Daffodil. Daffodil was in the very last stall separated from the others by two empty stalls. Abby frowned thinking of the pens with doubled up horses she passed. She reached up to pat the mare who snorted softly.

“Something happened baby girl? Those horses being mean to you?”

“No, they just know she’s touched.” A deep voice made her spin quickly to see a man in the empty stall opposite her and Daffodil. He had short brown hair, dirt on his face, and his head was very round at the top and narrow about the mouth, making him look like a teardrop. Or a cartoon character she couldn't recall. He also looked very much like the woman in Bruma who owned the stables. Abby had only seen her at a distance but her teardrop head was pretty distinct.

“Eh?” She offered ineloquently.

“Something odd about that horse.” He repeated, crossing his arms. There was indeed. She’d been the Mouth of the Mad God, but what did that man know about it? Abby searched his face to see if he looked suspicious of her or Daffodil. It was oddly difficult to tell because his face made his eyes seem very big and innocent.

If he recognized Daff’s a bit odd and isn’t afraid, maybe not entirely innocent is he?

“She likes cheese.” Abby offered. She had no idea if horses could eat cheese or not. Big Eyes gave a very wide Cheshire grin.

How’d he make his little jaw so wide? She wondered with a shudder.

“Thought she might. Makes the others fear her though. I’ll take care of it.” He made to leave as though this settled everything and he hadn’t just announced he had some kind of Madness.

“Wait! Who are you?” She called making him turn to her. His wide brown eyes looked tired. Abby had seen that look before, dull exhaustion etched into typically happy faces. She couldn’t name anyone back home but she felt everyone who worked around her had moments where the stillness dragged them to a stop. He was working so it may have been the drawn face of blue collar men, smudged with the proof of their toil and deepened with heavy lines.

Abby fearfully wondered if he wasn’t tired of fighting whatever madness lurked in him.

“Bernard, Miss Daisy.” He said softly. Abby felt a rush of fear at his unusual address.

“Abby where others can hear you.” She hissed as her sympathy burned hot into fear.

“As you say Miss Daisy.” And he turned and was gone.

***********************************************************

Abby sat on the wall watching the snowy mountain caps and munching on her cold pancakes. Had Bernard been afflicted with madness no matter what or was her presence here the reason for whatever troubled him? He hadn’t existed before that she knew of, so she had no good answer. Did anyone in Cloud Ruler know he was Demented? Was he really Demented just because he planned to feed her horse cheese and called her Miss Daisy, the haunting word that Sheogorath had serenaded her with for days on the tip here? It was very troubling and Abby felt like there were too many divine powers circling her these days.

Well some of that was her own fault, She admitted thinking of this morning's offering. Azura hadn’t asked. Julian hadn’t asked. She’d done her duty to Azura and Nerevar by fulfilling the prophecy all those years ago. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered.

On the other hand, Azura was one of the “Good Daedra” and she and hers did have a connection to them, what was the harm? Abby groaned and felt herself begin to circle back on her arguments, still unsure.

The Daedra and Divine couldn’t be in EVERY aspect of life. If she lied for an assasination plot in a nightmare would Molag Bal, Vameria AND Mephala all be around, invested and take credit for her work? Surely Dibella and Mara didn’t show up to every coupling in Nirn.

And Sanguine. Her subconscious reminded her. Actually... That sounded a lot like what she needed.

Sanguine time.

If he has to be there I can’t stop him. Truthfully Abby didn’t care if he was there. She’d always thought if she were to follow she’d serve him or one of his kinder sisters.

No idea I’d be saddled with you. Could be worse though. She admitted. The MadGod didn’t reply but she felt him pouting in her elbows the way a sleeping limb feels.

“Weirdo” She said, shaking her elbows a bit like a chicken. That seemed to cheer him up enough to stop the pins and needles. It also felt like proof he was always watching her be an idiot from the 3rd person somehow.

Determined not to speculate on the amount of voyeurs that would be joining her, Abby rose to her feet and hurried inside of the hall. There were a few folks milling about the longhall and Abby nodded to Demetri and Aaron before making a beeline for the door to her quarters with Martin. Hopefully he wouldn’t be in their room, she hadn’t seen him in the hall.

How does one ask your celib-ish boyfriend to vacate the room so you could cum?

She was not so lucky and he was propped against a stack of pillows he’d made booted feet hanging off the edge of the bed so as not to bring dirt into the bed, reading a book. He looked up when she entered and smiled, placing his book face down across his chest to give her his attention.

“Abigail! I missed you at lunch. You seem troubled?” He finished with a frown taking in her appearance. She probably looked like a mess, ink smudges on her right hand from letters, hair blown about the place from sitting on the wall, the wild look she had in her eyes after the day she’d had thus far.

“I um.. I’ve just had a day. Actually, can I borrow the room for a bit?” She tried not to redden too much and just tell him what was on her mind. “I think I need to.. Let off some steam.” She mimed jerking off lazily, failing in her plan to not blush but proud she’d communicated like an adult this very real need she had. Martin’s eyes went wide with understanding.

“Here?” He said a little dazed, his own face going pink high on his cheeks. Abby gave a shy smile nodding. “Of course, it's your room as well.” He marked his book quickly and tucked it in the top drawer of the night stand, scrambling to his feet. Abby realized she was blocking the door when he took a few steps closer, within arms length of her.

She had no desire to move for him. She’d much rather he stay. She wanted him but wanted to..

Respect him so hard right now, She thought desperately trying to will herself out of the way. He also didn’t move, nor did he speak. Simply watched her carefully hands playing with the sleeves of these green robes.

Green robes!? Which meant…

“Can I kiss you?” She blurted out, eyes dropping for a moment to his mouth. Her own mouth watered at the idea of kissing him. Her arms tingled and seemed heavy as if touching him might satisfy her every craving. She shook her head trying her usual tactic of physically dislodging thoughts of the dark haired man.

Failure as usual.

“Hands up.” He ordered shortly. Abby blinked, drawn back to the room and the tense moment with him. Her body however knew exactly what it wanted and she quickly lifted them above her head. Martin crossed the distance in a flash, holding both of her hands in his one and pinning them and her to the wall. Abby gave a grunt of shock as her back hit the wall. Martin crowded her space, resting his mouth against her forehead and his nose in her hair. His other hand wasn’t touching her but he astonished her even further by shoving his leg between hers.

If she hadn’t been planning to orgasm when she came in this would have done it for her. The height difference between them and his leg separating hers caused her to rise to the balls for her feet to stand comfortably, not resting all her weight on him. If she sat she was sure it would feel amazing but she’d be hard pressed to keep herself off him.

Ah My hands. She realized he was playing on his own terms still. He could have left. She reminded herself. Martin took a shuddering breath in through his mouth.

“Can you kiss me?” He said lowly his other hand coming to rest on her side pulling her forward a little bit, the movement caused her to climb up his leg a bit, straining her ability to stand without grinding on him. She spared a desperate thought from her horny brain that the friction sounded divine. She needed to wait. She was doing her best for him. He needed to be at the helm in this until they’d talked about it like adults rather than animals in heat. His mouth pressed gentle kisses across her forehead, quick and eager, with breaths still pushing her hair around as he seemed to gasp for air.

“Martin, I..” She began still straining on tip toes. “Please!” She groaned. Martin pulled his face back from her mouth.

“Can you kiss me? Can you have the room? Can you bring yourself to cum in our bed without me? Can you rub yourself to ecstasy and make all our belongings smell like your juices? Can you cum in the Emperor’s bed? A little victory against Kings as you have none, hmmm?” His blue eyes were darkening more than she’d ever seen, his voice was ragged and dangerous like she’d insulted him gravely, his chest was heaving while he spoke. Each question making him appear more undone, each question pushing her further and further from rational and sanity. Absorbed in his needy display and her own rising desire.

“No you can’t. But you can grind yourself right now.” He demanded hand pulling her forward even more so she had to rest in his lap unable to really reach the ground, not sure why she’d ever denied herself sitting on his leg anyways at the pleasure that shot up from where they connected. Abby physically had no choice but to grind down and all desire to behave had left her soul. Nothing was more important than chasing this feeling. Because she needed it, because he had demanded it, because it felt fucking good.

Clumsily she did as he said, grinding herself down and back up as best she could, Martin’s hand tugging and pushing her along to help.

“There you are,” he crooned. It might have felt mocking if she had the brain capacity left to worry about that sort of thing. “What a good girl.”

Abby felt very good desperately humping her friend's leg pinned to the wall like a tapestry.

“So sweet Abby, you deserve this.” He said mouth coming to her forehead again for kisses. Abby keened at hearing him say her preferred name finally. “Yea? My beloved Abby.” She could feel his smile against her forehead.

“Martin!” Abby had no idea how loud she was being, she didn’t know how long she’d been in the King’s lap, she really had lost most of her higher thinking when he’d crowded her space. Abby did know that was a damn good orgasm for all parties to still be dressed. She slumped entirely in his hands, her weight pushing her sensitive parts down on him fully causing her to hiss. Martin pulled her head to his chest and released her hands picking her up with relative ease to take her to their bed. He laid her gently out and took a step back, his hand still resting on her side.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. Abby’s eyes which had fluttered closed at some point shot open to look at him. He didn’t look like he was about to run from the room, so she relaxed a bit. “I should have seen how tense you were, especially after watching you with Burd. I probably should have asked before touching you.” He admitted curling his fingers into hers easily when she brought her hand up to catch his. It was very quiet in their room where a moment ago Abby’s ears had been full of pumping blood, desperate breathing, her own embarrassing sex sounds and Martin’s encouraging words.

“Sokay, it was very very good.” She licked her lips feeling cotton mouthed and sleepy somehow despite not having been up for more than six hours today. “I had a good time.” She squeezed his hand. Martin took a steading breath and Abby saw tears pool in his eyes a bit.

“I should have kissed you.” He said mournfully. Abby scooted all the way to the wall and tugged him into the bed. He followed plianty facing away from her once more. Abby snuggled up to him like they’d done the morning in the ruins so long ago.

“Come here and stop panicking Little Spoon.” She muttered. Martin gave a watery snort. “I needed that. You probably need a round yourself.” She poked him in the side. “Lets have a quick nap and you can take a turn, with or without me!” She added as he made a sound of protest. “It’ll make you feel better, it made me feel better.” She admitted with a laugh.

“I’m not the little spoon.” Martin muttered into the arm he was using as a pillow.

“Come on your Honor, a nap and a fap” She declared pulling him more completely against her in the bed.

“That’s awful.” He groaned obediently toeing off his boots over the edge of the bed and allowing himself to be pulled back. “I can never look at you again, nap and fap”

His protests made her chuckle and pinch at his clothed nipple playfully. He squeaked.

“I’ve no idea why I put up with this abuse.” He grumbled.

“Cuz’ I’m your beloved?” She offered sleepily.

“That must be it.”

“Your my ‘loved too.”

“Shhh”

Just this once Abby let the King boss her around.

*****************************************************************

When she woke Abby had no idea how long she’d been out for but an actual armchair had made its way into their room and Emperor was once again reading his feet propped on the dresser scrunching his long legs in a way that looked uncomfortable as hell.

“How in Oblivion did you get that in here?” She asked with a laugh, whipping her cheek that had been resting in a heavy puddle of drool. Martin looked up once again, and dropped his book to rest on his chest. He had changed out of his green robes and into a soft blue shirt and trousers while she slept.

“You were near unconscious darling.” He beamed clearly a little proud of himself despite all the tears before their nap. “I’ve been up for two hours. Brought it in after hour one, figured we’d need it anyway. Don’t worry, no one else entered.”

Abby nodded, sitting up fully and bringing one of their decorative throw pillows into her lap as a shield. A habit she’d always had when on a strange sofa, or bringing up something touchy. She let her fingers trace the seam down to the matching ugly yellow tassels.

“Thanks for your help earlier.” She started raising her eyes to meet his gaze. She didn’t want him to think she had any doubts. “I really enjoyed it. How are you?”

There open ended.

Heh open ended are we?

Abby fought not to roll her eyes at her constant companion lest Martin think she was annoyed with him. He still took a heavy sigh before speaking.

“Better. I had a good time with you. I prayed about it later. I don’t feel bad at all.” He repeated this like a mantra he’d been coaching himself through for the time she’d been asleep. She snorted in amusement at him and he glared at her. “I mean it. It was very fun and much needed. I’m glad you felt comfortable telling me what you needed. I wasn’t too much?” He trailed off his reassurance at the end needing his own.

She nodded vigorously, to the point of not being able to see, just to amuse him. He chuckled and she stopped, also grinning.

“No, it was honestly perfect. I think you might read minds.” She confided. He laughed again. “I mean it! Sometimes I think you’re a figment of my imagination. Created from every desire I’ve ever had or might have.” She shrugged at his awestruck expression. “Sounds a bit silly but..” She trailed off.

“I think the same of you often.” That made her warm. “You said you had a day, when you came in. Did you want to share?” He offered.

Abby quickly reaccounted her day and her worries on the wall that had driven her to a desperate need for distraction.

“It just all became too much. Needed to get out of my head. I was feeling suffocated by fate or the gods or whatever nonsense I’ve surrounded us with.” She finished her accounting wishing she had water in here from how long she’d spoken.

“Abigail,” treacherously her mind reminded her of his voice saying Abby “I believe you are from another realm. Another world I cannot fathom. I believe you are fated, by the MadGod, by Akatosh, maybe Talos too. I think if you could, you'd fight every gate to the Deadlands yourself, you’d punch Dagon and Akatosh and Alduin and My father if I asked you. You’d find a way. I think you might be the single most important person in my life, regardless of if we ever kiss or have sex.”

Abby felt a gambit of emotions at his words. Martin believed in her, he believed her and he knew she would move Nirn and Oblivion to keep him happy and safe. All good things.

“But you are not the single most important being to ever touch the ground in Tamriel.”

Ouch a bit ego shattering.

Listen to your Dragon King

“You are not responsible for everything that happens in this world. You did not cause all the strife in our world right now. You have no burden of guilt in what the Gods of this or any realm do! You are one woman! A wonderful and important woman but you are only responsible for yourself and your actions.” Martin had put his book to the side and moved to the edge of his seat, hand reaching for hers which were currently fisted in the pillow and its tassels. “Thinking like this will bring you to ruin.” He finished softly and gave a huff, “not the sexy kind either.”

Abby had begun to cry at some point. He was right. She did control a lot, but nothing more than herself. She did not owe Nerevar or Julian. She did not curse Bernard or Daffodil. She was not beholden to any God in this land.

She strongly suspected the guilt and shame she felt were hold overs from religion back home. It felt easier than breathing to blame herself. Instinctual and habit. Trained into her day in and day out.

And it had brought her to ruin a time or two she was certain of that.

“Can’t have that.” She croaked, shaking her head and blinking quickly to clear the tears.

“Only sexy ruin.” He promised solemnly. She giggled at his ridiculous demeanor.

“That reminds me, prayer doesn’t rhythm with nap.” She couldn’t fight back the rush of laughter that teasing him always brought and the emotional release that crying gave. Martin let her go and leaned back in his chair looking very Jarl indeed.

“I never said who I was praying to.” He said with a sharp lazy grin. Abby felt her mouth drop in shock.

“No way!” She gasped. He gave a sheepish smile.

“We needed to talk. He was most uncooperative.” He sighed with a small smile. “It was a good start. We haven’t spoken in a decade.” He added

“You haven’t jerked off in a decade?!” She didn’t mean to shout but a door slamming nearby made her realize she might have been louder than she thought and she flushed brightly. Martin glared playfully.

“I have, you wretch! Just not like that.” He wasn’t too embarrassed then, even if their neighbor had heard. She absently thought it was Steffan’s room or at least that he stood outside it often. Standing outside reminded her of the hallway guard. “You were right in thinking they can't be everywhere all the time… and he’s not allowed in Chapels, he’d have to destroy the building to get in.” He added as an afterthought frowning slightly. Abby wondered if he was thinking about Kvatch. The silence stretched between them.

“Did you do it here?” She asked suddenly looking around. Martin nodded with a satisfied grin. “While I was sleeping! Martin you cad.” She grinned. “You could have woken me.”

Martin gave a throaty groan and closed his eyes.

“No I could not have. Let’s go have food. Nice, unsexy meal, yea?” He said standing abruptly. Abby felt her stomach crow its approval to his plan. She stood digging out clothing, a stack of which had been folded on their bed.

“Martin I’m not sure anything you do is unsexy.” She admitted finding her travel clothes in the pile.

“Flatter.” He crooned, opening a drawer for the items she did not opt to put on. She was fairly sure the pants she selected were his but she merely cuffed the legs and rolled with it.

Just roll with it. That’s all I can do.

 

Notes:

Much needed stress relief for the both of them, although not together yet. :)

 

We can get back to action soon but unfortunately if Martin is here, things will always stay a little horny.