Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion, its NPCs, or its plotlines.


The light was too bright for what I was trying to do. I turned around to shush the man with me. Why anyone was with me made no sense. This was dangerous territory and I needed to be focused entirely on what was ahead, not worrying about who was behind me. But the face that stared back at me, the face that belonged to the body holding the lantern, was not any one I was expecting. Martin was looking at me strangely. Martin? Here in the small town of Hackdirt? What was wrong with the man?

I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or bothered. That he was with me was perfectly nice, yes, but the man had no skills to speak of. I'd spend more time protecting him than saving Dar-Ma, which is exactly what I was down here in these caverns doing. These caverns…I heard a shout from in front of me and whipped back around. One of the Brethren was rushing at me, a club held high over his head. I acted swiftly, cutting him down, running my sword through him. His eyes, ever unblinking, widened even more and he fell from my blade, dead. I felt, rather than heard, the disgust of the man behind me and turned back around.

"Martin, if you don't like it, why are you here? I have to kill them or be killed!" the words flew from my mouth even as I realized that Martin's image was shifting, shimmering…changing. I watched in horror as his eyes grew larger, his robes melting away, and the lantern in his hands became a large, spiked club. I felt horror and revulsion fill me and raised my sword against him.

But even as I knew it had never been Martin, my friend and supporter, standing there behind me, I hesitated. I knew his initial disgust at my actions was only fair- in killing these monsters, had I too become what I feared?

That pause of only a few seconds was what he needed and I was struck down before I could move. I could hear Dar-Ma somewhere deep in the caverns, howling in agony. Was this it? Was I dying, cut down by a crazed cultist after all of the greater horrors I had faced; dealt the death blow by someone, something, not even worth saving? I felt tears of pain welling in my eyes and fought them back- no, I was a Nord of Skyrim, a blood sister of the Skaal- I would die with dignity and not fear.

Suddenly a hand touched my shoulder as I lay there, bleeding. I was astonished I could even still feel anything. But the hand was there and it began shaking me gently. The voice belonging to it began to call my name, softly. I struggled to open my eyes and glimpsed Martin's concerned face. Wait- hadn't he just vanished? Wasn't he a figment of my imagination? That face I had seen just before I was struck? He wasn't truly here, was he? Shame stole over me. He needed to leave- if he was truly here, he needed to flee and save himself.

"Let me die," I begged. "Leave me and let me die!"

The concern was replaced with a grim smile. "You are not dying, Katherine," he murmured, lifting the lantern high over his head, casting more light upon my face. I put my hands out to push him from me and miraculously, they touched clothing: flesh and blood. I choked back a scream of horror. No! So this was real…I had thought, hoped, for a moment that I was dreaming, that I would wake at any moment.

"You must go! The Brethren-," I was gasping for breath now and my head ached terribly. I felt like I was being burned alive in my own skin. Was I dying? Or was I becoming one of them? My hands shook as I held to his robe, desperate to make him understand. "It is too late for Dar-Ma, I can hear her howling- she will be- she will…be…," I stopped as I felt fatigue overtake me and the pounding of my head grew to be too much. I could no longer keep my eyes open.

I felt Martin put his hand over one of mine to make me let go of his robe front and heard his sharp intake of breath. His hand felt cool against my own skin and I sighed with the brief relief that accompanied the feeling. The agony of the pain and burning was growing with each moment. What was happening to me? It felt like nothing I'd ever known…in those moments, I truly believed I was dying.

I heard Martin's voice, calling to someone else. What was that? Had help arrived? Would Dar-Ma be saved after all? What of Martin?

"Caroline!" he called, his voice full of…anguish? What was wrong? Was he alright?

"Martin," I mumbled, and my hands suddenly lost their grip. I could no longer feel them and they fell limply at my sides.

"Caroline, Fortis, anyone!" he called again. I heard footsteps come running. "She has a fever- it must be running very high, she's hallucinating- speaking nonsense," he spoke in a low, but pained voice to whoever was with him. I moved my head back and forth a bit, my eyes fluttering wildly, trying desperately to open them once more. I had to know- I had to know what was going on.

I heard another voice, although with every passing second the voices, as with the lights, grew dimmer.

"No- it's not nonsense, Emperor. She's reliving something…but you're right, she's ill. I'll get Jauffre- he has the most medical training of any of us."

Footsteps again, quick and light. More voices, but it was hard to distinguish them now. I was confused, upset. How could everyone be here? How had they known where to find me? I shuddered and moaned. No, they…must…I didn't finish my thought because in that moment the world darkened for one last painful minute before I slipped into unconsciousness.

A small, worried plea was the last thing I heard. He said my name softly- near my ear.

"Katherine," he begged, "sleep now."

I felt something cool upon my head and a soothing hand against my cheek. My final protests died upon my lips. Was this the end? A moment more and I was lost to total, inky blackness that filled my mind completely.


A hand on my shoulder and the murmur of low voices caught my mind from its unpleasant dreamless sleep. I opened one eye slowly, then both as I discovered I was safely in the barracks of Cloud Ruler Temple. I lifted a hand to my face, my head. There was a dull ache in my brow, rattling around right behind my forehead and I winced as I touch my skin. It felt cool and damp. My hand dropped down again weakly and I took a deep, shuddering breath. What had happened last night? I thought I remembered a strange, mixed up dream about Hackdirt and Martin…I'd thought I was dying, the pain had been so great. Had it been a dream at all? I shook my head and felt pain shoot through my head once more.

Oh, moving too much was a bad idea, apparently. But still…that dream. Had it been real? I examined it more closely. Dar-Ma had died in my dream…and the Blades…had they come to save me? No. I smiled weakly, wryly. That wasn't what had happened there. I had slaughtered the town members, every one of them in my desperate ploy to save the Argonian girl. And save her I had. So I had been dreaming after all…I tried to turn my head again and the pain struck once more. I hissed at its dying fervor.

"She's doing better," I heard Jauffre's voice clearly- too clearly.

I coughed and tried to speak. My voice was raspy. "Too…loud," I managed. I heard laughter and suddenly Jauffre's face was in my line of vision. "I'm sorry, Katherine. I'll speak more softly," he murmured, as if he were whispering. I answered his smile with a relieved one of my own and mouth thank you.

"Well, we are glad to see you're awake," he went on. "You were out for three days with that fever."

Shock coursed through me, chasing the remaining pain away and I tried to sit but was too weak. As I struggled to my elbows, I felt a hand on my other shoulder, pushing me back down.

"You're still too weak for that. You need at least another day recovering before you can do anything," Caroline's soft voice said from beside me. I sighed and let them push me back down to the bedroll.

"So-," I tried speaking again. "I've been sick?"

"Very," replied Caroline. "The emperor was extremely worried. He'll be glad you're awake. Would you like some food?"

I felt Jauffre shift and stand. "I'll leave now," he said. "But I'll be back I another hour to see how you're feeling," he finished. I heard his footsteps move away and a door opened and closed somewhere. I tried to turn my attention to Caroline. The pain was lessened now. I began struggling up again.

"Help me," I croaked. She stared at me and shook her head.

"Caroline," I commanded, my voice harsh and hoarse. "Help me up. I don't have time to waste recovering. I must go see Martin. Once I eat I'll feel better," I promised. "But I must get up."

Her face hardened and she finally nodded, hitching one of my arms around her shoulders and helping me rise on one fluid motion. I was still weak, but I managed to stand, leaning gently against a chair. She left me to grab some of my clothing- a burgundy and black gown- and returned with it.

"Put this on- I'll help you. You need to stay warm. The aftermath of the fever has left you dehydrated and shivering." I let her help me and waited patiently as she laced up the back of the dress. She was right and I felt better- warmer, more human with it on. She placed a bowl of water before me and again helped me wash my face and neck.

"The emperor is sleeping, I believe," she said as she ran a comb briefly through my short hair. "you'll find him in his quarters. Go eat something first."

I nodded and thanked her as I made my way independently and shakily from the barracks to the kitchen. There was no one in the small room, which I was grateful for. I was sure I looked a mess, even with the minimal washing and dressing. My hands shook as I put some fruits upon my plate and tore some bread from a loaf. As I sat to eat, a door opened from down the stairs. I didn't turn around, but I could hear the heavy clanking of boots upon the wooden plank floor. Whoever it was took another plate from the shelf and I heard them rustle through some grain sacks. I turned in my seat somewhat and saw the broad shoulders of Roliand, the only other Nord in residence. He turned, his plate full with meats, cheeses and assorted breads and grains. He grinned when he saw me.

"Lass!" his voice boomed in the small space and I cringed inwardly. My head was better, but not cured. He laughed and took a seat across from me where I worked quietly at an apple.

"It's good to see you up and about- eating, too. That's a good sign, Lass." I smiled at him in return; the man never called me by my name. He seemed to think of me as his little sister, which was alright with me. I liked Roliand- he reminded me of my uncles in Skyrim. Tough and strong, broad of chest and generous of heart. The thought made my smile wider. And Arcturus thought we Nords didn't have a loving bone in our bodies. I had never known a Nord male who wasn't free with his feelings. Nord women, of course, were another matter entirely.

He noticed my answering grin and laughed again. "You seem happy as well; that's good. If I had to see that frowning face of yours one more day I'd toss you to the wolves."

I laughed then, putting down the knife and apple I'd been at. I reached for my cup of water and Roliand frowned.

"What's that? Water? Lass, you need ale. Water won't warm those bones of yours." He shoved his own mug at me and stood to fetch himself another. He spoke to me as he did.

"You were out for several days, so you don't know what's been happening. We were worried about you, there's no doubting that. Emperor Martin barely slept himself- your illness seemed to throw him into a fit of research. He's resting now, but I know you'll want to see him soon. There's rumors of what he's discovered. Jauffre mentioned it to us in passing, although Captain Steffan warned us not to speak of it." He sat back down and noticed I still hadn't drunk of the ale yet. "Drink, Lass!" I grimaced and took a hurried sip. The pale liquid burned its way down my throat. As sour as it tasted, he was right and it warmed me.

He smiled in satisfaction and took a swig himself. "Sancre Tor," he continued, "is not a very nice place. It was overrun by demons and necromancy long ago. But according to Jauffre, that's where you'll need to go next, although the man is hard put to decide which mission he wants you to take care of first. Bruma needs allies desperately." He drained his mug and tore into a piece of mutton. He continued to speak around the food.

"Now, Lass. I shouldn't have told you that, but you deserve some straight answers and advanced warning. I have as much faith in you, if not more than the rest of these pansies, but even a good Nordic warrior needs information every now and again, eh?" He chortled around the food in his mouth and I laughed with him.

"Thank you, Roliand. I appreciate it," I replied, returning to my own food. Caroline was right, as Roliand had been. With the food, ale and news, I was feeling better and better. I finished as quickly as I could and stood up. Roliand looked up from the remainder of his meal and let out a low whistle. I turned back around quickly.

"What?" I asked, crouching down, ready for action. I straightened when he shook his head. He was staring intently at me and finally shook his head, his eyes sparking with curiosity. I looked down at myself. Was there something on my dress? I knew it wasn't normal for me to wear one, but my trousers were filthy from my mission several days ago. Should I have borrowed some?

"Nothing, Lass," he reassured. I nodded, still uncertain, and turned to leave once more. I could hear his chuckle behind me as I shut the door and headed for Martin's quarters. Men, I thought. I'll never understand them, no matter how Nordic they are.


There was a guard posted outside his room, but he moved aside as soon as he saw me. Apparently Martin had given orders for me to be let through. I nodded my thanks and slipped past the man, closing the door behind me.

Martin was lying on his side, fast asleep from what I could see. His back was truned towards the door- a foolish move on his part, I noted, annoyed with him. Didn't the man have any common sense? Mehrunes Dagon himself was after this man and Martin didn't have sense enough to sleep with a sword by his side and facing the bloody door! Honestly. I truly did not understand men. This one in particular.

I moved forward quietly, still somewhat cautious upon my feet. My hand had barely touched Martin's shoulder before he shifted and raised his head, blinking wearily. Hmm. Perhaps he was more of a light sleeper than I'd thought. I smiled gently at him.

His eyes registered my face and he rolled over, swinging his legs to the floor. "Katherine," he murmured, standing. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "You are not well yet- you should still be in bed, resting-," he began, but I cut him off.

"No, Martin," I replied, waving his hand off. I was surprisingly uncomfortable with the thought of him touching me. "I'm feeling much better. The worst possible thing for me to do right now would be to remain here, inactive and useless. Now what is it you want me to do next? Perhaps if I'd never stayed and just gone onto the next thing I would've fought my way through it and been back here already. My immune system always collapses when I take time to rest. Now talk, I've wasted enough time as it is!"

If he was surprised by the vehemence of my words and the implicit blame that accompanied them, Martin gave no sign of it. Instead, he mutely took in my appearance and then gestured for me to sit. He walked around to a bookshelf, gathering some scrolls. Placing them on the bed in front of me, he rolled one of them out. Before he began his explanation, however, he turned to speak to me in a quiet voice.

"I understand you're upset at the lost time, Katherine, but that could not be helped. I see now how ragged we've run you with these constant missions and I should have insisted upon your resting more often. I can't accomplish this without you, but I also can't accomplish it if you're not well."

The implication hit me in the gut and I felt blood rush to my cheeks. My eyes sparked dangerously for a moment before I bridled the emotions in. Martin watched me carefully and seemed almost happy to see the signs of feeling in me.

"I hope you're not thinking of finding someone else to help you with this," I hissed, unable to keep the anger from flooding out somewhere.

He shook his head. "Not at all, I just wanted you to know that I expect you to take more care. Stop and rest if you get weary; make sure you eat on your journeys. The road is a hazardous enough place without added illness- and you aren't always on a road." He paused, eyeing me, seemingly deciding whether or not to give me extra information. Finally he spoke again.

"Katherine, I know you are upset, but please understand my feelings in this. You were very far gone by the time anyone realized you were even ill- you hide many things well, it seems. It took all of Jauffre's efforts to save you."

I looked away from his eyes, the heat in my cheeks fading. So…what was this? What did he mean? I looked back up to him from where I sat on the edge of his bed. He was still watching me, waiting for a response.

"I dreamed I was dying," I whispered. "That's all I can recall of that night."

He nodded, apparently pleased with my response. "You nearly did," he replied, his voice calm, but an underlying emotion playing across his face. I stared at him, trying to determine what it was. Surely he didn't- surely he couldn't…I was the only one who cared that way. I was nothing more than a champion and friend to him, right?

I pulled my eyes from his face suddenly and felt heat pool in my cheeks once more. The iron curtain came down with difficulty. It seemed I was more vulnerable the weaker with illness I was. Hmm. I had another good reason to stay healthy, it appeared. I sighed and turned back to the maps and scrolls.

Martin was looking to them again as well and whatever moment we had just shared had passed swiftly. He began speaking and pointing things out on the scroll before me. I nodded and paid as close attention as I could, but the effort of keeping the curtain down was wearing on me. After what felt like an eternity, but was in reality only a few minutes, Martin turned to me again and rolled up another scroll, handing it to me.

"A map. And you'll need to speak with Jauffre for more details and the key to the fort."

I took the map carefully and got up, preparing to leave. He lay a hand on my arm, stopping me.

"Katherine," he began, but I smiled and didn't let him finish. I couldn't let him finish that sentence. Ever.

"I'll be fine, Martin," I promised. "I'll see you in a few days."

Then I was out the door, leaving him staring after me just as before, my velvet skirts rustling about my legs.