"Where do you hail from, exactly?" Martin asked as they continued to make their way up the Gold Road. They had been travelling on foot for what feels like hours, in complete silence. He figured the unfamiliar woman just didn't know what to say, they hadn't known each other long and apparently he was the heir to the throne. What could you say?
"Cheydinhal." She replied shortly. Well, that was something at least. Martin figured she must be from Cyrodiil, she is blatantly Imperial and seems to know her way around better than he does. She is fairly average looking, in face and armour. Clearly knows her way around magic and a blade. I'm putting my life in her hands, I think I'm entitled to know a little more than that, Martin thought assuredly.
"Do you have any family in the province?" He kept prying.
"Aye. They reside in the Cheydinhal chapel undercroft." She replied a lot faster this time. "My condolences." She nodded, and continued her silence. After all the smoky, violent confusion at Kvatch, he truly doesn't blame her for not being too chatty. He probably shouldn't be either, but his earlier thought of entitlement came back to him, and why travel with someone if you're not going to converse?
"What is your name again?" Martin asked, stopping in his tracks and hoping she would do the same. She did, and raised a single black eyebrow at him in response. "Sorry, in all the haste it seems I have forgotten, and I'm in dire need of conversation. After what happened I feel a little less…human." In honesty, he hadn't forgotten.
"Isa." The woman answered, and continued walking. He followed and decided to continue questioning, she seemed a little more at ease now and she hadn't exactly protested. "Short for Isabella? That sounds Breton."
"It is. My mother was enthralled with the culture. She wanted to move us to High Rock one day."
Isabella and Martin continued with small talk. She never asked any questions, he seemed happy to do that part himself, and she was unsure of what to ask the new Emperor. She briefly considered telling him everything Uriel had said to her in the undergrounds of the Imperial prison. The things she left out in their initial meeting, but decided against it. He never knew who he was, and all things considered, she didn't either.
It had been quiet for a few moments, and Isa noticed Martin had been yawning rather frequently . She could see the White Gold tower coming closer and closer into their vision. "Should we stop in the Imperial City for a nights rest? Weynon Priory is only about five hours travel from there, and I think we could both do with a hot meal and a warm bed."
"No. We should get to Jauffre as soon as we can. I can't rest." He replied, sounding a bit irritated at her suggestion.
"It would be wise if you were fed and rested as to stay in your right mind."
"I'm not tired and I've got apples and bread in my pack." Martin stated defiantly. For a moment he reminded her of a child. Isa thought it may be something like blasphemy to think of a Septim in that manner, but he is still human, and as he said himself "In her hands."
She remained quiet and continued leading them towards the city. He was still following. They reached the bridge crossing over Lake Rumare that would lead them into one if the cities districts. She stopped and dropped her pack. Martin did the same, he sat on his pack and put his face in his hands and run them down his face, almost dramatically. If he wasn't so fatigued, and the new Emperor, she would have laughed.
"I'll take that as compliance." Isa said with a bit of a laugh. He looked up at her, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't surprised at the sight before her.
His eyes appeared to be welling up with tears, thick brows furrowed upwards. "Everything..." Martin choked out; he put his face back in his hands. Isabella was never good at comforting anybody, not even herself, let alone this man. This situation had suddenly turned pitiful and awkward, Isa thought. She felt bad for him, but couldn't help the creeping feeling of frustration at his sudden breakdown.
"Listen, we need to get to the inn or the fancy hotel if it suits you better but please, we need rest." With a start he rose and put his pack back on his shoulder. "By the Nine, I don't care where I sleep…" Agitation still present, Isa noted. At least he wasn't on the verge of tears any longer. An idea presented itself to her suddenly, and she decided to run with it.
"I know it's late and you're not in the brightest of moods, but I think a swim and perhaps a wash would help you." He looked at her in disbelief, and Isa immediately regretted her words. "My apologies." She said softly. Suddenly the ground became very fascinating.
"No, no need for that. You're right… I stink." He added with extra emphasis. Isabella looked up immediately and was taken aback. Was he jesting? It could have been sarcasm. She could hardly tell.
As she stood there with her mouth slightly ajar trying to conjure some words, Martin started laughing and set his pack down once more.
"What? N-no I wasn't saying…" She started but was cut off by the sound of Martin's laughter getting louder. After a few moments, it died down. Isa kept staring, not having the faintest idea of what to say.
"This is all so absurd. I don't truly know what any of this is about, the Gods are playing with us."
"No, you're Martin Septim and you're going to rule Tamriel. No tricks. I wouldn't be here if this was a joke, I wouldn't have gone into the bowels of Oblivion if this wasn't serious." Isa retorted instantly.
Martin sighed and looked over to the lake. "Let's go for that swim."
He started to walk away from the bridge and down towards the lake, Isa was still standing where she was, contemplating the constant changes of his tone. She walked further onto the bridge , leaving her bag where it was. Another idea sprung to mind.
"Martin!" she called out to him, he was almost at the bottom of the hill but still within ear shot.
"Come back!" she could see him stare up at her and shake his head.
Isabella continued thinking about her plan, she wasn't sure if he would go for it. He may not be fit into his Kingly role yet, but he is still a Priest of Akatosh, and as far as she knew, Priests didn't play games. Well, that would make this part less uncomfortable, perhaps.
Martin was still making his way up the hill and was almost at the top of the bridge where they were before. Isabella was ridding herself of the poor armour she was wearing, he wondered what in Oblivion was going on.
By the time he got to where she was, about the middle of the bridge she was in nothing but her smalls. Martin guarded his eyes.
"If you're thinking of trying anything with me, I'll remind you that I am a prie-"
"No no no no, nooooo." Isa interrupted and proceeded to laugh. "You can uncover your eyes, it is just skin and you would have been subjected to it regardless." Seriously?
"What are you doing, then? Why did you call me back up here?" He slowly removed his hands from his face, for the third time tonight.
"Let's jump off."
"Pardon?" He had that confused, furrowed brow look again.
"I used to do it all the time. You won't die and it will be fun, I promise."
"I don't think so. I'm not interested in your games." I was right.She didn't say anything, just looked at him with an expression that clearly said "Come on."
"Yeah, it will be an inspiring sight for the people, behold your new Emperor, jumping naked into a lake like a ten year old boy."
"You can keep your smalls on." He sighed at that and began pacing around in circles. It was silent for a few moments before Isabella decided to pipe up again.
"It's very late, there's nobody around save for two Imperial guards over there who can't see us, even if they could they wouldn't recognize you. And will most likely be the only fun thing you'll do until after the Dragonfires are lit and they throw some big royal feast in your honor."
The Priest stared at her, he looked to be in serious thought. This woman is mad, even if all her arguments are fair. After all, he had done much worse in his youth, prior to taking his vows as a sworn Priest of Akatosh, he had spent many an evening parading around the shrine of Sanguine. Doing things he'd rather nobody knew.
"Sure." As soon as the words left his mouth, his robe left his body. Isabella started having a laugh, and covered her face. "What? You said yourself that it's only skin."
"Yes, it's not that…it's just"
"What?"
"I didn't think you would agree to it, I thought I was mad. Trying to convince you to jump off a bridge." Her laughter ceased. She looked him over once, still somewhat shocked at what was going on, even if it was her idea. Not bad, but still not my type.She thought half-heartedly.
"Well, let's go then. Off we pop" Martin broke her train of thought, and he was standing on the ledge looking down at the still waters of Lake Rumare. She followed suit and began a count down from five. When she had got to one, he was already gone. His screams were loud. She couldn't believe he actually did it. When Isa heard the splash, it broke her train of thought again.
Damn it. She could hear him yell "HEY" from down below, and jumped.
Isabella always loved the sensation of falling. Just another way to fly.When she hit the water it seemed she was in far too deep and began furiously swimming up to the top. It was always the same, feeling like you're about to run out of air right before you reach the top. Martin was about ten feet from her and he was laughing. I can't believe that worked.But she was glad it did, the last thing she wanted was to be looking after the heir when he was emotionally unstable, though she couldn't blame him for being so. He swam closer.
"You were right, I feel worlds better." For now, he thought, but shook it off. Isa began to swim away, remembering she left her pack on the bridge with her soap. Before she got the shore she decided she didn't need it, and simply wanted to enjoy the empty lake. It had been too long since she had a good time, or a friend for that matter. Friend…He'll forget about you once you get him to where he's going. The Emperor of Tamriel doesn't have room for common company.
Her train of thought was interrupted once more with a splash to the face. "What!?" Isa exclaimed, unsure as to why she was so surprised by his actions, she had convinced the man to jump off a bridge after all. She splashed him back, and thus began the Splash War of Lake Rumare. They continued on for about half an hour. Forgetting the troubles and responsibilities they knew they had to attend to.
This is ridiculous, we're acting like children. Martin put an end the war and began to swim away. Instead of asking, Isabella followed. She figured he came to his senses. And she couldn't blame him; there was so much to do. The mood turned comfortably solemn as they trekked back to the bridge.
As they reached their belongings and began dressing, Uriel Septim's words rang through her mind, like they had multiple times since his death.
"You will find your own path. Take care... there will be blood and death before the end."
