They were arriving at Weynon Priory just after first light, but, the Priory had been alive long before that. The stable hand ran up to them as they approached, eyes wide and hair disheveled, he was scream something that neither of them could decipher, but, Vryn reacted before he could finish. She drew the bow strapped to her back and fired and arrow at the attacker. He staggered back, but, it was not enough with the daedric armour he wore.
Vryn was off her horse and on the attacker in mere moments, her dagger in hand. She bashed the attacker with her bow, knocking him off-balance, before driving her dagger up, under the chin of the armour and through the attacker's jaw. Once lodged in there she bent it, cutting a line from his jaw to the collar of the chestplate. "Where's Jauffre?" She shouted back to the stable hand.
"T-the chapple!" He called back.
"Martin, stay with the Horse!" She ordered, drawing an arrow and nocking her bow. She fired an arrow into the back of a Mythic Dawn members neck, saving the life of one of the monks, just as she reached the chapel doors. She kicked the doors in, arrow already nocked and being fired into one of Jauffre's attackers. They noticed her and one lunged at her, weapon raised and her attacker screaming. She dodged, her dagger appearing in her hand in a wisp of flame before burying it into her attacker's throat.
One of them came at her from beyond her peripheral vision and she was barely able to miss getting a blow to her head. The mace met her shoulder, the weight of the blow knocking her to her knee. Her dagger vanished as she let out a shout of pain, the points of the daedric mace ripping away black linen and flesh. Jauffre was there before a second blow could be made, the blade of his Katana piercing her the others throat.
"Are you alright?" Jauffre asked, watching her clutch the open wound.
"Fine." Vryn mutter. "Dam it..." She groaned.
"We need to see if the Amulet of Kings is okay." Jauffre stated.
"Go, I need to go and check on The Emperors Son." She stood, looking down at Jauffre.
"Good job." He congratulated, clapping her on her injure shoulder.
Vryn hid the shot of pain that ran through her body, clenching her jaw to stop the shout that she threatened to let out. Jauffre left her and she made her way back to Martin, clutching her wound. "How good are you at healing shoulders?" She asked, showing him the state of her wound.
"Ata..." He trailed off, quick to jump off the horse and place his hands on either side of her injury.
She smirked through her pain. "Don't look so worried," She said softly, "If you are not more careful, child, I might start thinking you like me."
Martin looked up at her, opening his mouth to speak, but, the tender smile she wore took him off-guard. He smiled back, thinking over those words. They offered him familiarity in this new chaos.
The old man approached them, a snarl on his face. "It's gone," He growled, "They must have taken it."
Vryn glanced at the other, "I told you the Sanctuary would of been safer."
"I will not entrust Tamriel's safety to a group of murderers." Jauffre hissed. "Why are you getting healed?"
Vryn glanced at Martin. "I miss the touch of a man." She said, receiving a grunt of disapproval from Jauffre. "So, what now? I love my family, but, I doubt any of them would be appreciative of Martins presence."
"We will head to Cloud Ruler Temple, The Emperor will be safe there." Jauffre stated.
"I thought you were against entrusting the fate of Tamriel to murderers." She shot back. "Thank you." She said softly as Martin withdrew his hands.
"What are you saying?" The old man's eyes narrowed at her.
Vryn rolled her shoulder experimentally, wincing slightly. "I'm sorry, I can only heal so much." Martin spoke up.
"No need to apologise, you did your best." She smiled.
"How typical of you to bite your tongue when your victims fight back." Jauffre grumbled. "Come, there are horses ready in the stables."
"I wasn't biting my tongue." Vryn answered, her horse kneeling down. "I just decided that we should not fight in front of Martin, making him hate you would be counter productive." She turned her attention to Martin. "Here, take my horse, these Priory horses are hardly as battle ready as Serpente."
"Are you sure?" He asked.
She nodded and Martin settled onto Serpente's back. The horse rose, Martin awkwardly grabbing hold of the reigns. "Don't worry, young Emperor, she'll follow me without need for direction. No need to grasp for the reigns." She returned her attention to Jauffre. "Better mount up, we've a long day ahead of us."
The day's trek had been long and slow, Vryn travelling beside them with ease, using the full length of her long legs. Martin could not help but be in slight awe of her. She was so thin and tall, as though someone was unsure if she were meant to be an Altmer or a Spider and decided to take the legs of the latter and make them limbs for the first. He could not think of something that could cause this.
"What's your birth sign?" Martin asked, hoping to find the answer there.
Vryn glanced over her shoulder. "The Lover." She let out a breath. "My condition is not because of my birth sign, Young Emperor, it is the result of my parents... Misgivings." She cast her eyes to the setting sun. "We should rest before we reach snow." She decided, walking off track.
"And Partially due to her own," Jauffre added, "Your dealings with daedra should be no secret."
Vryn clicked her tongue. "Martin is well aware that I have dealt with daedra."
Jauffre gave her a look that would break a lesser being. "Unlikely he knows in some of your choices."
She chuckled slightly, rubbing her injured shoulder. "I must admit, I had not expected to desecrate the statue of Stendarr on that particular venture, but, you must admit that he deserved it. His followers are evangelical murderers claiming they're doing their gods will."
The Blade Master scoffed. "And Sanguine is better?"
Vryn glanced at the eldest of the two Imperials. "Have you ever had the pleasure of visiting one of his pockets of Oblivion?"
This caused Martin to quirk a brow. "You entered his plane of Oblivion?"
"I had little choice, I had to get back the soul of someone I hold quite dear." Martins cheeks coloured slightly at this, the sight of the pink flush bringing a smirk to Vryn's face. "It was quite the bargain." She glanced about. "This should be far enough."
"Then go and check the area while we set up." Jauffre ordered, dismounting and tying his horse to a nearby tree.
Vryn helped Martin down before reaching into a saddle bag and pulling out an apple, she handed it to Martin who accepted it. "Of course. If I don't come back, assume I have gone back to one of Sanguines pleasure pockets." She smirked, slipping into the forest.
Jauffre was quick to set up camp and eager to keep Martin on the sidelines, preparing a fire pit and placing two bed rolls around it, shooing The Priest away whenever he tried to help.
"Talos, Jauffre, you do realize he was raised a farm boy, right?" Vryn chastised, branches under one arm and a boar under the other. The dumped the wood into the fire pit and set the boar down as she knelt. With a snap of her fingers the wood ignited and she stood. "Should I go watch?"
"Yes. I will prepare the boar." Jauffre decided, sending her off with a wave.
Vryn slipped off into the growing shadows of the forest, ignoring the bitter cold of the mountain air. They would be in snow before long and from there they would face the trek up to Cloud Ruler Temple. She had not been there in some time, not since she sought revenge on a particular group of Blades that had sided with Stendarr fanatics seven years ago. Vryn remembered the way they screamed and pleaded for forgiveness, she had no regrets about it though as it taught the Stendarr followers not to take what was hers. They'd be back though, she knew it, 200 years from now, just like always. When her life became worth living they were there to take away what she held dearest.
Vryn settled atop a rock only a small ways from the camp. She would not venture far, she could not risk leaving him alone with Jauffre. The old Blade was a good soldier, but, he had gotten slow in his old age. Vryn sighed and stretched before pulling a journal, quill and inkwell from from her hip satchel, displaying the items before her. She opened the journal and turned to a fresh page before picking up a quill and dipping the point into the ink. She began to write, her letters pointed and the spaces between her words narrow, and amongst her thoughts she lamented about the development of her hand writing. It seemed to change as her personality did. When that creative, optimistic girl died she lost the roundness of her letters and slashed her t's near the middle. It was curious how much she had changed, looking back, and she wondered what they think... What he would think. She had been so much brighter back then, filled with hope and love, she missed her old self sometimes.
"Vryn." Martin called out.
She hummed in acknowledgment, dotting a period before setting her quill into the inkwell. Her mind suddenly realised what he had said. "Where did you hear that?" She asked, turning her head to look at him.
Martin smiled, glad that he had finally found out her real name. "Jauffre told me, or at least, mentioned it."
Vryn was quiet for a moment before chuckling slightly. "Ah, well, Jauffre would not of kept his mouth shut even if I told him to. The old coot hates me."
Martin settled down beside her, glancing at her journal. She would have closed it if the ink was not still wet. "I expected your handwriting to be more elegant than that."
She shrugged. "It use to be, a long time ago." She let out a breath and looked up at the sky. It was getting truly dark now and she was glad she had finished her journal entry before it had set in. "My tutor use to beat me back when I didn't join my letters," She admitted, memories sparkling in her eyes, "Also use to beat when I used contractions, or slang."
"You had a tutor?" He asked.
"Oh, by the nine, yes." She admitted. "Terrible person, all bitter voice and sharp features, he was cold even for an Altmer. Even had terrible, stringy hair that he'd coat with oil. He'd always wear too much in the way of sweet oils, I use to tell him off for it."
Martin shifted so he was closer, and sat forward so he could watch her face as it lit up with fond memories. "Sounds like you were quite rich in your youth."
She made a noise that was halfway between disgust and joy, looking at him with wide smile. "I was dirt poor, my parents were rich, though." She reached out and gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind his ear. "And, for the record, I am rich now. I just don't bother with buying excessive luxuries, I learnt early on that gold and jewels don't make me happy." She placed a hand on his cheek. "How are you doing?" She asked, concern heavy in her voice and on her face.
Martin dreaded that question, 'how are you doing?', he did not want to answer. If he tried he knew he would unlock all the emotions he was pushing down. He did not want to think about these things, not now, he would rather deal with them while he slept or in the silence of travel. He had spent the ride to Weynon Priory comprehending Kvatch and he intend to spend this one comprehending his blood and those who intended to spill it. After that, if he had downed the truth of his father and his assassins well enough, he intended to to take Vryn into consideration. Her attitude change had not gone unnoted and he had many questions he needed to ask her.
"I'm dealing." He admitted.
This seemed to lessen her concern, but, it did not go away. "That's good to hear." She said softly, closing her journal. The darkness was in full effect and Martin had trouble making Vryn out against the night, but, Vryn took no issue with it. The dark was were she spent much of her time, especially in contracts, and she was an expert in picking out shapes in the dark. "We better get you back to the camp, you'll freeze out here." She packed away her things and escorted Martin back to the camp.
Jauffre glanced at them. "Could you get more firewood?"
"Yeah." Vryn agreed, rubbing her injured shoulder cautiously before heading off.
Martin noted this and quickly caught her by her wrist. "Do you want some help?"
"My lord, you should sit." Jauffre stated.
Vryn glanced at Martin and saw familiar buds of disdain threatening to bloom in his eyes. Hatred towards Jauffre would not be good and so she needed to intervene. "If the boy wants to collect, let him collect firewood. Allow him to bask in the simplicities of lower class life for a bit longer before you and your Council lock him away in a glorified cage."
Jauffre met Vryn's eyes, searching for malice, but, only found a gentle plea. "Be quick and be back soon. Take a torch." He ordered.
Vryn smirked, "Of course, Father." She took a torch from her horses saddle and lit it in the dying fire before placing a hand on Martins back, guiding him into the forest. "I know Jauffre can be cold and strict at times, but, please understand that he means well. In all this chaos, amidst the madness, people forget that their hero's are still only people."
Though she had spoken warmly, the word 'hero' had sounded bitter to him. He was no hero, he was but a priest, if anything she was the hero. She had saved Kvatch, closed that portal, and it had not first time she had saved him. Through his life she always seemed to be his hero, saving him from bandits, wolves and even the tenacious claws of daedric lords. He was just a Priest, the son of a farmer, and no Hero, much an Emperor.
"That's a grim look." She teased as she ducked low and plucked wood from the ground. "I haven't seen that look in six years. Last time, he was a thief, sent to Morrowind because he was caught trying to pickpocket a Jarl." A thief, that was oddly reassuring to him. "Useless thief, couldn't steal from the laziest of nords, and he was such fool. Just a street urchin, born and raised in the snowy gutters of Bruma."
That was more comforting than just a thief. "What happened to him?"
If Vryn was honest, she had no idea. She had not seen him in three years, not since they had crossed swords with Hircine, but she was due to see him this year - if the crazy bastard was still alive. He had sworn to see her off. "Last I saw him he was catching a boat to the Summerset Isles in the hopes of getting drunk and causing havoc."
"Really?" He asked, picking wood from the ground.
"Yeah. Idiot wanted provoke the fifty year deal." She muttered.
"Fifty year deal?" Martin asked.
She handed him the torch and what wood she had collected. "Well, it's difficult to explain..." She jumped up and grabbed hold of a tree branch, yanking it down in one powerful tug. "But, it involves excessive drinking and a daedric prince." She took the wood from his arms and left with the torch.
"What do you mean?" He pressed, already starting to pieces together in his head.
She clicked her tongue and handed the wood back to him, reaching up and grabbing a branch. She gave it a tug, but, this one did not yield. "I might need your help."
Martin set down the wood and Vryn took the torch in her weak hand. He jumped up, the branch a head out of his grip, and grabbed it. It broke easily under their combined weight, but, it sent them falling. Vryn, unable to catch herself, knocked aside the branch and change their positions so instead of her pinning him to the ground, he had her pinned.
They landed with a grunt, Vryn's head bouncing off the ground and Martins crashing into her chest; leaving her winded. "Talos, Martin," She groaned, keeping the torch tilted so no stray sparks fell onto him, "You're heavy for a priest."
Martin braced himself on his elbows, looking down at her. "S-sorry."
She chuckled at this, barely able to keep the torch up. The fall had delivered a painful blow to her injured shoulder making it cry out for her to relax it, but, if she let the torch fall it would set fire to the grass and she knew neither of them could survive that. It would be a lovely way to end her story though, death by fire, especially considering how she had lived her life up until three years ago.
Martins cheeks flushed pink, she had been staring unintentionally. "It is fine," She said, voice like fire, "No need for apologies." She sat up on her good elbow. "Haven't been in this position for sometime." She muttered under her breath, smirking slightly. "Are you okay, Young Emperor?" She asked, clenching her hand into a fist as the pain in her shoulder neared unbearable.
"Yes. Are you okay? Did you injure your head or make your shoulder worse?" He sat back on his haunches so she could sit up.
She changed the hand her torch was in, wincing slightly. "My shoulder isn't exactly happy." His hands lit up with restoration magic and he placed them on her shoulder, the healing spell soothing the pain. In her current state she doubted that this injury would ever go away. "I might have to stay with you when this mess is done so I never have to pay for treatment." She jested, causing Martin to chuckle.
"I might start charging you." He smirked.
She pouted, his hands retreating and the light dying. "You're so mean to me, Young Emperor." She reached up and tousled his hair. "Best we get back before Jauffre fears that I've eaten you." Martin climbed off of her and gathered the wood, reluctantly allowing Vryn to switch the wood for the torch before the pair returned to the camp. Jauffre was bent over the fire, roasting wild boar, when they arrived. "Smells good." Vryn chirped.
Jauffre glanced over his shoulder, watching her cautiously as she set the wood down. "I'll go back to watch." She melted into the darkness, leaving Martin to settle down beside the fire on a bed roll.
Jauffre and Vryn had been up earlier than Martin which was saying something when, during his training to become a priest, he had to get up with the sun and that habit was still with him. Even if he was tired. Sleep hadn't come easy, his first night after Kvatch without the warmth of the Altmer to keep his nightmares at bay, and he had relived all of those horrors.
"Come on, Young Emperor, you can sleep on the road." She reassured, helping him to his feet before rolling up his bed and strapping it to her horses saddle.
Martin mounted Vryn's horse, but, did not expect her to settle into the space behind him.
"What are you doing?" Jauffre asked.
Vryn reached around him and grabbed hold of the reigns. "The Young Emperor is tired," She answered, "He'll be sleeping on the road."
Jauffre went to argue, but, chose against it and mounted his horse. They kicked their horses into a trot and started off.
Martin fell into a state that was halfway between sleep and wake, listening to Vryn's even breathing. As the world around him grew cold, the lush forests fading to ice and snow, he became more and more grateful for her warmth at his back. When snowflakes began to collect in his hair and on his lashes, Vryn drew and arm around him and held him closer.
"We should've packed extra cloaks." Vryn spoke up.
"Don't you have anything in those saddle bags of yours?" Jauffre asked.
Vryn shook her head. "I haven't needed extra cloaks since I left Skyrim."
Jauffre scoffed. "And how long ago was that? 1000 years?"
This caused Vryn to laugh. "I'm not that old, it'd be a blessing if I did, though." Martin would have grumbled something if he was not so overwhelmed with the fatigue he was, in some part, giving in to. "But, I will tell you this, it has been too long since I last saw their graves. Do you think they are lonely?" Her voice was cold and distant. Jauffre did not answer, leaving her to hold onto Martin as though he was the only thing real. "My sister hates me, you know," She spoke up, "Because of what I did twenty eight years ago."
"That was quite the atrocity." Jauffre spoke up. "You'll be a bad influence on that boy."
She glanced at him. "Why do you think he already dabbled in daedric magic?" She let out a breath. "Took me the better part of day to convince that bastard to give him to me. He gave me a few knew gashes as payment." Vryn set her chin on Martins head. "I swear he is the cause of half of my scars." She muttered.
Jauffre was silent for a long moment before speaking again. "May I ask where you got the mammoth cheese from?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but, closed it. "I can't remember." She sat back, nudging Martin out of his half-sleep. "We're almost at Cloud Ruler Temple, Young Emperor." She whispered into his ear.
In his daze, his mind echoed these words. He would be locked behind stone walls and Vryn would most likely be gone, vanishing from his life for another few years. How long would it be this time? he wondered. Six? Seven? It left him feeling oddly alone.
Martin let out an unsure breath, his speech finished and the Blades dismissed. He had never felt more inadequate before in his life. He glanced back at Vryn, the Altmer having taken a seat on the steps behind him, and found her already approaching him.
She had slight, approving smile playing across her lips that helped soothe his nerves. "I've never been one for speeches." He admitted.
"Could've fooled me." She reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure your father is proud of you." Martin was silent, he never knew his birth father, but, he knew the man who raised him would most likely be proud of him. "Once we find the amulet of kings, you'll be able to make even more speeches."
He felt his stomach churn at the thought, thousands of people listening to what he had to say, expecting him to lead, to rule. He had yet to grip this truth. "Yes," He started, voice trembling under the weight of what he was going to say, "Once the amulet of kings is safe and we -" He stopped short, registering his mistake. Martin cast his gaze to the ground and grimaced. "I light the dragonfires, I'll be emperor." He looked up into her eyes, finding glowing orbs filled with empathy and worry.
Vryns hand lightly glided to his cheek, the warmth soothing his pain. "We will go together and I will be right beside you as you light the dragonfires. Martin, when you are Emperor, I would grateful if you were to allow me to-"
A female blade cut in, looking at Martin fondly. "My lord, if you will allow me to show you to your quarters." The woman offered.
Martin looked from the Blade to Vryn and back again, expecting Vryn to finish what she had to say, but, the elf did not speak. Vryn bowed slightly and offered a false smile. "I will be here until nightfall if you wish to speak to me, My Lord." Vryns hand retreated from his cheek and she left. In a torrent of emotions, everything she had eased came back in full.
Vryn found a spot near the front on the east facing wall, looking at the blur that was Morrowind in the distance. Soon she would meet with her old friend, it was almost three years passed, but, she knew that she would not be able to make good on her promise to him. She let out a breath, Jaffre coming to stand by her shoulder. "Do you miss it?" He asked.
"No," She answered, "If anything I despised it." Vryn looked over her shoulder, looking up at the Blade Masters grim expression. "You do know that I'll stay with him, don't you? That I'm forfeiting my rest for this."
Jauffre was quiet. "I apologise for clapping you on your shoulder, I had no idea that you were unable to heal."
"All is forgiven." She smiled. "What do you want from me?"
"Baurus has information on the Mythic Dawn, he may even be able to help you track down the Amulet of Kings."
Vryn was quiet for a long moment, her gaze shifting to Cheydinhal. It was but a dot in the distance, but, she could tell where it all was. Fort Farragut towering above the city and the abandoned house tucked safely within its walls. Antionetta was probably trying to make dinner, using garlic against Ocheeva and Vicente's wishes, and her dear Vicente would be in his room trying to resist the urge to snap at her. She could even imagine Lucien, pacing around his chamber within the fort, irritated that he had not heard from her yet about their possible brother.
"Where is he?" She asked.
"Imperial City, at an Inn called Luther Broad's Boarding House." He expected her to stand and leave with that information, but, she did not budge.
Vryn glanced back at him again. "I leave at nightfall." She stated. The answer must of sufficed because Jauffre quickly left.
With Jauffre gone, Vryn retreated to her thoughts. She supposed she ought to give Martin some consideration, find where to fit him into her life now that he was back in it as a prominent figure. She did not have deal with her old drinking friend for another twenty two years, so, she did not need to consider that. She did need to consider her family, though, both blood and bond born. She supposed it was good that she never moved up in the ranks in the Brotherhood, despite her odd quirk that made her notable in her family, it just meant she would have more time for Martin. She could mention this to Ocheeva and her contracts would probably be reduced to the bare minimum. She would never leave the Brotherhood, though, it was the only family she had left after her sister.
Martin settled down beside her, letting out a long breath. "It's cold up here."
"Try Windhelm." She smirked.
Martin glanced at her. "How's your shoulder?"
"It's behaving." She shrugged, receiving a short pang of pain.
They fell into a pleasant silence, each becoming lost in their thoughts. The sun was a thin line on the horizon now, as golden as Vryns eyes. Martin let out a heavy breath. "I never wanted this," He admitted, "All I wanted to be was a priest."
"All I wanted to be was merchant's daughter." She smiled, meeting his eyes.
Martin cast his eyes to the snow below. He had not expected that, the concept of her being something so unruly curious to him. She had always been an adventurer to him and a thief more recently, how could he of expected that she never wanted that life. "Why not go back to it? Are you stuck with your fate like I am?"
She set a hand on his. "Martin, none of us are stuck with a fate, we only choose to follow it. If we fight hard enough we can evade the fate we have been given. If you wanted to, you could run, but, you choose to stay because it is the right thing. I could return to summerset, abandon the family I have made, all of my friends, and even you. But I won't, because staying is the right thing to do." Her free hand came to his cheek and turned his head to face her. "But even if we choose to stay with this fate, with our destiny, we never have to do it alone. Do you know what I'm trying to say, Martin?" He was quiet. His mind was too muddled with what he had to deal with up to this point, he could not even begin to try and understand what she was trying to say and Vryn saw it. It was too soon, he was still an emotional mess, he was not handling this as well as she thought he had been.
She let out a breath and shifted into a crouching position. "I'm off, Young Emperor," She planted a kiss to his forehead, "I'll be back in a week. Try not to shrivel up and die from boredom or this damned cold."
Before he could say something or even get to his feet, she was gone. She had vanished in the darkness like a whisper to roaring winds, leaving an emptiness in her wake. Martin was left confused in the silence, his heart loud in his ears and cheeks warm. He needed to come to grips with his blood quickly so he might give her some thought.