He may be old, but he'd be damned if someone tried to underestimate his experience. He'd seen things, heard things and learned things in his nearly 35 years of being the Grandmaster of the Blades and many more years as a monk at Weynon Priory. Jauffre wasn't fooled for a second.
He knew what Martin was up to.
The Septim heir tried to hide it, tried to deny it (in front of Jauffre, that is), tried to feign ignorance when he was asked about it. But Jauffre wasn't easily fooled or lied to. He saw the exact same mannerisms, gestures, and vibes when Uriel was seeing Martin's mother on the side. Always lost in a daydream when he was apart from her, looking at her longingly from a distance, staring at her with a soft, gentle expression...
The boy was a damned carbon copy of his father.
Jauffre couldn't fathom what effect the Hero of Kvatch would have on Martin. Jauffre didn't think much of her when she came to the Priory house bearing the Amulet of Kings and Uriel's last words. Being romantically involved with anyone didn't even seem to be the least of her concerns. She never gave any external evidence that she was interested in love when she came to the Priory.
And Martin was a priest for Talos' sake! Women were out of the question! They were worldly desires! One devoted himself to the church! Jauffre would know, he was a bloody monk! But it seemed like the way of worldly desires had gotten the best of Martin when Jauffre walked into the barracks one night to find Martin cornering the Hero of Kvatch with their lips locked, only to part a split-second later when Jauffre opened the door.
"Training?" He asked the two accusingly.
Martin looked at the Hero and gave a mischievous grin, but Jauffre saw it. She gave him a sheepish smile as she excused herself and retired for the night. It was Uriel all over again! Jauffre had started to feel less like a protector and more like a father reprimanding his son. One night, he intercepted the heir as he was heading to bed.
"Your Highness, be careful with her." He warned him.
"With who?" Gods, Jauffre was getting insulted by his feigned innocence.
"You follow the way of your father in illegitimate children and it's bound to get messy again."
Martin only smiled and patted the old man's shoulder. "You have nothing to worry about, Jauffre. I know I am the last remaining heir to the throne, and I will not be sidetracked by petty affairs."
Jauffre was impressed. Perhaps he would finally start to see the light: There were more important affairs than love.
And Jauffre was actually foolish enough to believe him.
On Morndas, he caught them outside the stable in a tight embrace.
Middas, in the pantry, their lips locked again.
Turdas seemed to go without incident, until he glanced under the table and saw them rubbing their legs together. Like a father reprimanding his children, he sent Martin to translate the Xarxes his room and the Hero out on another quest. Again, he had to give Martin a stern talking-to. He tried telling him that she was not of noble or royal blood, so their relationship would be null and void to the government. He tried warning him that getting involved with a woman would only lead to disaster. He tried telling him not to get involved with her, that there were more important matters at hand.
Martin seemed to ponder on these warnings, and he promised Jauffre that he wouldn't be so foolish as to get sidetracked by her again. Once satisfied, Jauffre never bothered him on the incident again.
Only if he had known that Imperials were the best liars of all the races.
He and Martin were seeing her off one morning. She was going to all the cities to gain allies for Bruma. She walked over to her horse and got in the saddle. That's when Jauffre saw it.
She winced.
She. Winced.
He wasn't stupid; women didn't wince when they settled in a horse's saddle. Unless someone had put a certain something in someplace he was absolutely FORBIDDEN from placing that something in!
"You didn't."
Martin looked back at Jauffre with an eyebrow cocked. "Sorry?"
"You didn't...Did you?"
Martin only just gave a sheepish grin. Jauffre threw his hands up in the air.
"Fine! I give up! Do what you will! But I'll be damned if you believe I'm going to look after any more illegitimate Septim bastards! I've already got one in my care, and one's enough! By Dibella, I wish you had been born without your manhood! That'd keep you from spilling your seed into every or any woman that walks by! Septim libido be damned!"
From that day on, Jauffre resolved that there are some things you just absolutely cannot control.
And apparently, the Septim libido was one of them.
A/N: A little bit of Jauffre humor. Perhaps a tad OOC. The Hero of Kvatch can be any F!Champion, so use your imaginations. :3