"Wait."

I stilled at the word, and stopped. Turning quickly enough that it gave me a split second's worth of dizziness, I was already faced back at the table, my heart skipping over a beat in my chest and causing my breath to lodge in my throat. I didn't know why I got so easily worked up, hearing that voice.

Blue was the first thing to greet me. It was always his eyes that I noticed first, and Martin's smile spread out underneath them was so infectious that I couldn't help but smile back. Those eyes had looked bright on Uriel, as if they had been a beacon to illuminate the darkness of the Imperial Prison, standing out against the rest of Uriel's features and how worn with age they had been. On Martin, they simply looked… warm. They made me feel warm, from my head to my toes, and my anxious feelings died down as just the soft expression he wore calmed me.

I bowed my head. "Yes, Martin?" I knew not to call him sire, or sir, or anything that suggested we weren't equals. I knew we weren't, but I knew Martin didn't think that way at all, either. Martin went out of his way to talk to me each day, to see how I was holding up, and he did the same to each of the Blades he was working with, treated the like a family rather than his own personal army, despite them being exactly that. I was part of that personal army, but because of them and because of him, I felt like we were family, too. It wouldn't be anything other than fair to call him by his name rather than a title.

A sigh left his lips, and he gestured me over. Curious, I came, and getting the feeling I was ought to sit down, I did. The smile stayed poised on my lips, even when tall rows of books and numerous scrolls separated my line of sight from his. Laughing, I moved some books out of the way, and my grin was wider as I saw his face again.

"I'm sorry." It was said with sincerity, but the grin on his face was as happy as he was apologetic. For almost a half hour, I had endeavored to try to get him away from that book, to grab his attention with food and drink that I knew he went without partaking in days at a time, had endeavored to invite him on a walk with me for a while to stretch his legs that he hadn't used properly in days. Absorbed in his worked he had been that he snapped at me to leave him, and I had been about to make my ashamed retreat before he had called me over once more.

I was glad he did. This wasn't the first time this sort of thing happened, and whenever I walked away from these situations without proper closure, it left my heart feeling too heavy to properly lay down and rest.

I shook my head, causing several strands of hair to assault my vision, long brown blobs falling across into view. Martin chuckled at that, reaching over and brushing the long strands of hair behind my pointed ears, parting my overgrown bangs and meeting my cleared vision with a grin. His eyes always crinkled at the edges when he smiled too widely. It was one of the finer details about him that I couldn't help noticing, and I felt the slightest heat raise to my face as I noticed myself taking note of something so small of a detail.

Finally, I spoke. "Don't be. I can't imagine how hard it is to translate that thing." I remembered when I had dared to take a peek in it during my ever-so-graceful theft of the Xarxes. The way it had muddled my mind, how the Daedric symbols had taken shape and form. I had been able to decipher them, had been able to take some shape, some form of meaning, but all the words had been backwards and my vision had been swimming and I was too scared to try again. Not that Martin would let me. No one got near that book, and especially not me. I didn't know why, honestly, but I didn't ask, either.

Another sigh, and a slight nod of the head. "It's infuriatingly difficult. Regardless, that does not give me the right to behave so rudely to my closest friend, especially when he tries to hard to put me at ease. Thank you for going out of your way to take care of me." I felt a pleasant feeling pool up in my chest, and my cheeks tingled and almost felt sour with the strength of the blush that overcame my cheeks. I knew they must be a bright red by now, and when Martin noticed, it made his smile melt into warmth and genuine happiness over such beautiful features that it took my breath away.

He stood, then, even when he had been sitting for so short of a time. I pushed myself out of seat to follow, making an uncomfortable noise when I heard a few of his stiff bones pop into place. He shot me an apologetic glance, and when he held out an arm for me to take, I took it with my still-flushed cheeks without question.

"Let's go for a walk." He raised a hand to Baurus as the Redguard attempted to follow. When I glanced behind at him with a friendly look to my eyes, I received a knowing look back and a teasing shake to his head, and it puzzled me, but he stayed back. "Around the perimeter?"

Martin nodded, and he let go of my arm to open the doors for me instead, not letting the Blades standing guard by said doors do it for him. I went through the door and heard it close behind us, and cold air washed over my skin, soothing the heat on my cheeks. It was a quiet night, Secunda and Masser doing their little dance across the skies, between the array of stars buried deep within the night. Martin took me by the arm again, and I followed him, nodding at a few Blades on my way.

"There isn't much walking space inside the walls, but I suppose we can make the most of it. It's a nice night." I filled in the absence of conversation with my own input, though there was a little tinge of hidden wistfulness to my voice. The Blades were extremely adamant on keeping Martin within these walls, and for good reason, I understood. Often days and nights, however, as I traveled on my steed and sought out the adventures that Cyrodiil had to offer me, diving in and out of Oblivion Gate after Oblivion Gate, I wished I could take Martin with me. Wished he could experience the humid marshes down south and the heavy fog that loomed about the air, the endless fields of golden grass that stretched to your knees and tickled your hips and hid decrepit forts in their midst, the evergreen and forever stretching forests of Cyrodiil and their Ayleid ruins and caves and magickal creatures at each turn. Even standing out at the rocks jutting from the shore of Anvil and watching the waves of the Gold Coast clash against the shining marble lighthouse or tiptoeing along the sands that lined the deep blue waters of Lake Rumare or- or anything of the sort- it all made me think of ways Martin could be experiencing it with me.

I hoped that wasn't bad. I couldn't imagine how I would feel, so trapped inside the same walls and constantly watched over by guards. Maybe Martin felt more secure than he did trapped. I didn't know, but I hoped, in the future, that he would let me make it up to him by getting to travel together to all the places he hadn't been to and all the ones he had, but his time, with me. I hoped it wasn't bad, either that when I thought of my future, Martin was always carried over into that same train of thought.

Martin broke that train of thought before I could lose myself too deeply inside of it. Those same weeks upon weeks upon months of adventuring that I had long since grown to love had taken their own tall, and my mind drifted easily under a thick fog of grogginess floating over my head. I shook it off, paying attention to the words Martin spoke. "Perhaps I had not been entirely truthful to you."

I blinked. "Why's that?"

Martin met my dazed confusion with his same soft eyes that never lost an ounce of their gentleness no matter how many times I gazed upon them. "My intention hadn't been entirely just to walk." He laughed, and as we started to circle around to the back of the actual large fortress itself, sticking to the walls that towered well over our heads, I frowned.

The frown didn't last too long, only born out of confusion. Martin's smile was too infectious. "Where are we going?"

He didn't have to answer me with words, the answer revealing itself soon enough as we got to where he had been leading us. Around the back of Temple, where a small area of untamed grass had grown underneath the starry night, a picnic blanket was set out, spread across the ground. Atop it was a small wooden basket and some pewter mugs, even a few plates. I looked on in confusion as Martin continued to lead me there, and finally, he sat me down, and sat himself down across from me.

As Martin perched himself up on his knees and started to open the bag, rummaging around inside, I found my voice and used it. "What's this?"

Martin met my puzzled expression, and even with how the cold northern air chilled my skin through my thin clothes, the happiness etched into his features were enough to drive the cold away. "It's a picnic." He said the words lightly with an even lighter laugh, starting to pull things out of the basket by now. He set aside some breads and sliced meats and cheeses and a pewter knife, along with some strawberries and tangled grapes, and when he pulled out a bottle of Tamika Vintage 415, I pursed my lips and waited only for a better explanation.

Upon seeing my expression, he laughed again. "I had one of the Blaes prepare this and set it out back. I had been planning to surprise you with when you got back from Applewatch to close that Oblivion Gate that had sprung up north of there, but I had been so lost in my work that I had nearly forgotten. I'm glad I remembered before you left." His expression became a little embarrassed, and maybe even ashamed, yet all I could do was let another blush overcome my face.

It took me a while to speak, to remember I was ought to and have my mind catch up with the words I wanted to say. Martin was used to this and well enough understood, letting me take my time to work it all out in my head, but even after all of that, all I could manage was a single word. "Why?"

He merely looked up at me from where he had been beginning to set out the food, and I brushed a stubborn strand of my hair away from my face. When it fell back into my eyes, he reached over once more and cleared it away, the pad of his thumb brushing against my cheek. His hand felt soft. "You've been doing so much to help us. Without you, we wouldn't be this close to getting that Amulet back. And, no," he held up a hand, stopping my protests, "the loss of the Amulet wasn't your fault. They were going to get it either way, and whether it would have been with you or with Jauffre wouldn't have made a difference. That, and you do this all for my father, for his dying wish to be fulfilled. It's noble, and brave, and shows the great integrity of your heart many men lack. The least that I can do is make a meal for us both."

After all of that, I didn't have any sort of comeback. It was doubtful whether I could scrounge up any words from how happy and flustered his own words had caused me to feel. Martin understood, like he always did, and he affectionately called me his hero as he told me to begin setting up our little dinner.

Within a few minutes, the loaves of bread had been cut to make sandwiches stuffed with meats and cheese, and I had a fair amount of fruits on my plate. I wasted no time in digging in, and Martin finished before me and went for seconds. I couldn't blame the man in the slightest. Divines knew he had starved himself to death by staying at his table for hours on end, as still as a statue. Sometimes people could easily mistake him for one, never moving from that book of his. Right now, at this moment, I couldn't bring myself to mind too much.

When I had finally had my full and Martin's eating had slowed, I set down my nibbled-at strawberry and laid back against the blanket. His gaze followed me, and I smiled. "Is it wrong of me?"

It was Martin's time to be confused. I didn't mind, having personally left that sentence unevenly hanging for him to try to figure it out. "Wrong of you?" I nodded, cheekily, and he rolled those gorgeous eyes of his, brighter than any star. "Go on, talk normally. I'd like to make some semblance of sense out of our conversation if it isn't too much of a request."

I gave in, laughing. I was tired, and that was the extent of my jokes, just to be teasing and vaguely annoying. He didn't seem annoyed, but happy, so I guessed it was alright. "Is it wrong to be happy at a time like this?" He tilted his head, but was quiet as I continued, searching for the right words to put with my inquiry. "When we're in the thick of war, and people are dying from Oblivion invasions, when the world could end at next month if we don't retrieve that Amulet quickly enough. I'm worried, and stressed all the same, of course I am, but is it wrong that I'm happy, too?"

Martin considered, before finding a question of his own to ask. "What, during this all, makes you happy?

It was my turn to consider. I listened to the sound of his munching on a grape before I answered. "I have a family, with these Blades, as strange as it is to think. I have close friends, get trained to be better at sword fighting and magicka everyday. I get to adventure, I get to travel to different worlds, I get to save people and be someone to look up to. I get to be a hero, and I'm happy. There's people dying everyday, there's poverty in the streets of every town and danger five steps out the walls of all the cities, there's a guild of thieves, of assassins- there's all these problems in the world, all at once, but I'm happy." Before Martin could begin to give him a proper answer, he added, "And, there's you."

Silence filled the cool air. I listened to the sounds of Martin putting our picnic items away, of him starting to uncork the bottle and pour some wine into either of our cups. I sat up as he tapped my shoulder with one of the cups, and we clinked them together against each other's and drank. Wine was something you took your time in enjoying, especially when it was higher class wine such as this, but I just chugged it and set it down, and Martin raised an eyebrow at my actions but kept his silence as I settled back down.

Finally, Martin finished his drink, and he poured himself half a cup more. "I don't think there should ever be something wrong with feeling happiness." His answer was simple, finally, and soft. My mouth quirked into a grin at the words, and I think even he already felt a smart-mouthed reply balancing on my tongue.

"What if it's because I murdered an innocent? Would you still approve of my happiness?" I propped myself up on my elbows, waiting for his answer.

It came after a bemused delay. "You wouldn't harm an innocent soul in your life. You just don't have a single bad bone in your body to do it." I puffed out my cheeks, looking like an indignant fish, and as embarrassing as it was that Martin snickered at the expression, it was amusing to see him so carefree and happy, if only for this night.

"You never know," I warned. "I could chuck someone into a lava pit in the Deadlands and that'd be it." I stuck my tongue out, and he laughed, finishing his wine and setting it out of the way to come lay down beside me.

"Then that's your own business," he finally settled on, and I got a laugh out of that. "But, in all seriousness, if anything, you deserve to be happy. And I don't think anyone could fault you for being proud to be a hero." I nodded. Even though I didn't say it out loud, I treasured what Martin said, and that put my mind at ease for the moment. Martin knew, I knew he did. He always did. Sometimes, I thought he might know me better than I know myself, and I wouldn't be surprised if he did. Then again, taking into account that I didn't know my own name, it wouldn't be too flashy a feat.

We were quiet for a long time. It was a peaceful kind of quiet, the one where I could let my mind drift off into a state of content.

"What do you see?"

Martin's voice aroused me from my reverie. All this time, I hadn't realized my gaze had been rested upon him until now. "You." It was the first thing that came to mind, and when his blue eyes met my brown ones, all I could do was hopelessly smile.

"I was talking about the stars." Yet, he smiled with me.

I didn't know how to answer the question he posed. Upon realizing this, he directed his focus onto listing out the signs in the stars, the constellations buried within the sky, the shapes to be found within glimmering gems of night. He traced the outline of figures running their race with the twin moons and we stayed like that for a while, and it was only until my yawns became more frequent and my eyelids heavier that he stopped.

"Are you tired?" I nodded, reluctantly. We hadn't ever done anything like this together before, despite the fact that he was my closest friend. I didn't want it to end, and I hoped Martin didn't, either. "Perhaps we should head back inside."

I waited for him to get up, but after a few moments, he didn't. Neither did I. "Maybe we should stay outside?" I offered the suggestion lamely, expecting it to be rejected. I knew he had that book to get back to. Sure, we weren't running that low on time as I had said we were, but we weren't sitting on time, either. The Xarxes wasn't going to wait for Martin, but I always would.

Much to my surprise, Martin nodded, and he faced back up to the sky. Dawn had started to taint the edges of the night, had started to fade the stars and turn the corners of the sky a paler blue. It was colder than usual, and more likely than not, we would wake up to snow falling on our faces.

I closed my eyes, relaxing my muscles. Teetering on the edge of sleep, I felt a hand grasp mine, and it wrapped around my smaller palm and encased my skin in warmth and comfort as I drifted off.

"Goodnight, my hero."

Flecks of cold brushed against my features, little touches of frost against my skin. I knew it, knew that we would wake up in the snow. I didn't mind, however. I was happy enough to wake up beside Martin as it was.

I open my eyes, a wide smile on my lips. Slowly, it faltered, and then faded, the corners of my mouth losing their will to stay drawn. I awoke not on a picnic blanket under the sky, but in a bed that wasn't mine, the window above my head open to let a few sneaky flakes of snow in through its entrance.

Tears prickled at the back of my eyes, and a few trickled hotly down my cold cheeks as I turned over, being slowly swallowed by the covers of Martin's bed. I didn't have the energy or will to sit up from where I lay, to close the window and save myself more warmth, didn't have the energy or will to get out of a dead man's bed that I had occupied for days.

I closed my eyes. A few more tears escaped, running down my face, tickling the old scar on my cheek, running over my chapped lips and escaping inside the slight opening of my mouth to breach it with the saltiness of my own sadness. I let them, not having even the strength to raise a hand to my eyes and wipe the tears away.

"It's you." I whispered the words in a broken voice, as shattered as my heart. "All I see is you."