Serana, Hadvar, and Lydia reluctantly parted ways with us when we reached the juncture between the Red Ring Road and the Gold Road, continuing to head south toward Leyawiin and, hopefully, safety. Between the Housecarl, the legionnaire, and the ex-vampire, I was reasonably sure they'd manage. Still, my prayers went out to them.

That just left Martin and me traveling alone down the road for over a week. We rarely spoke to each other, and never beyond what was absolutely essential. The silence between us was uneasy. It was a painfully familiar situation.

We reached the gates of Kvatch just as the sun finally slipped below the western horizon. The damage caused by the Crisis had long since been rebuilt. The buildings that lined the streets, which were only being restored the last time I'd been through, had a thoroughly lived-in look they'd clearly accumulated over the past couple centuries. Across the square, I saw the steeple of the Chapel of Akatosh. Beside me, I could practically feel Martin tense. I'd been back to the city since that fateful night. He hadn't.

There was an inn on the main street, The Golden Dragon. The sight of the roaring figure on the inn's sign made my stomach clench and I heard Martin let out a resigned sigh. It wasn't a surprise, but still...

I tugged the front door open and ushered Martin inside before stepping in as well. The main room still had a few patrons sitting around the tables assembled there, but not many, and they seemed to have better things to do than pay any attention to us. I made my way through to the bar. Behind it was a Breton woman with frizzy brown hair. She looked up as I approached.

"What can I help you with?" She asked me.

"We need a room for the night."

She glanced over at Martin, then back at me. "Twenty septims."

I pulled the coins out of my purse and handed them to her. After checking the amount, she handed me a key and nodded toward a set of stairs leading up to the inn's second floor.

"Go up those stairs, and it's the second door on your right."

I followed her directions and headed up to the room. It was somewhat bigger than I expected. Once Martin was inside, I shut and locked the door behind us. As I dropped my things off in one of the corners, I noticed Martin step up to the window that looked out onto the city. His eyes were fixed on the Chapel of Akatosh, a melancholy expression on his face. I stepped up beside him and crossed my arms.

"Get some sleep," I murmured.

"Mara..."

"We've still got several days until we get to Anvil and I want you to get some rest."

He turned away from the window to face me. "What about you?"

I shook my head. "I'll be fine, Martin. Just go."

He held my gaze for a moment longer before sighing and turning away. From the corner of my eye, I watched him as he lay down, his back to me. I sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and let out a heavy sigh.

The timing of our arrival in Kvatch was somewhat ominous to me. It was the sixteenth of Hearthfire. Two hundred seven years ago to the day I'd stumbled through the burning ruins of the city and into the relative safety of the Chapel to find him. That we were back in Kvatch on the anniversary of that day... It was a painful reminder of what I'd lost.

I'd told him no. I'd made my choice. His silence since we left the Imperial City made that perfectly clear.

My conflicting emotions tangled and snarled in my head, making it impossible to think. I needed to get out of there. Just long enough to sort some things out.

I got to my feet and silently crept toward the door. Once I'd stepped out into the hall and locked it again, I slid the key back under the door. I had other ways of getting in and Martin would be safe enough in there for a little while.

When I stepped into the Chapel, it was completely empty. There weren't even any priests. I made my way with soft footsteps down the aisle toward the main altar to the Divines. Kneeling down before it, I paid my respects and prayed for some kind of answer as to what I should do.

"I thought I might find you here," a voice said from behind me after a few minutes of silence. Martin's voice was soft, but his whisper carried. I didn't even bother to look up. Instead I stared at my hands, which clenched into fists.

In a tense voice, I asked him, "What do you want?"

"I wanted… I wanted to talk to you."

"I understood that." I got to my feet and turned to face him, crossing my arms. "Now say whatever you've got on your mind. I don't have forever."

He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for leaving you…"

"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" I snapped, my heart twisting in a painful way.

Martin stepped back with a look of shock, as if I'd hit him. "Mara, I didn't–"

"Didn't what? Didn't want to do it?" I scoffed. "Then why in Talos's name did you do it at all?"

"I did it for you!"

I stared at him, confused. He did it for…

"What?"

He took a deep, shaking breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Before we made it into the temple, I heard the voices of the past Emperor's through the Amulet of Kings, my father's loudest of all. He told me there was a way to stop Mehrunes Dagon, and that it would require sacrifice of one with the blood and soul of a dragon, but it wasn't me he wanted. It was you."

My eyes widened and my heart pounded. Me?

"I knew that if I told you the plan, you would have gone after Dagon yourself," he went on. "You might have even stopped him. I don't know. What I do know is that I couldn't have let you do it. You still had the chance to change the world for the better. I was trying to give that chance to you."

"That wasn't your choice to make. You deserved it more."

He shook his head emphatically. "No. The shape of the future, the fate of the Empire, those things belonged to you. Not to me. I was born to make that sacrifice, but you were born to live."

I turned and marched away, gritting my teeth. He followed me and I heard his footsteps echo across the chapel's stone floor.

"Mara, please. I know you're hurt, but you have to trust me."

I whirled to face him, letting out a short, harsh laugh. "Trust you? Trust a man I expect to be gone again every time look away? How do I do that, Martin? Tell me." When he didn't respond, I glared at him and asked, "How can you possibly hope to understand the pain I went through because of what you did? You weren't there. You didn't see–"

"I did see!" He cried. "I saw all of it!"

His chest heaved. His eyes bored into mine, their blue depths filled with an intense grief the likes of which I had never seen before.

In a shaking voice he said, "For all that time I was gone, I had to watch every hurt you felt and be powerless to stop it from happening. I had to watch you crying in your sleep and be unable to do anything about it. You think I don't understand? I faced the prospect of an eternity forced to see you in pain with no hope of ever comforting you again. The one time I came close, you were gone before I could reach you."

The voice I'd heard in Sovngarde. The one that shouted my name a moment before I returned to Tamriel. Had that really been…?

"And the worst part?" He whispered, anguish filling his voice. "The worst part is that even though I'm here, with you, it still feels like I'm back there. You can't even stand to be near me."

I turned away, unable to look at his face, and brushed my fingers over the stone column beside me.

"Do you know what day it is?" I asked him quietly.

The heavy pause before he spoke told me that he knew what I meant. "It's the sixteenth of Hearthfire."

"The sixteenth of Hearthfire," I repeated. "The day we met. Here, in this very chapel. I spent the first anniversary of that day thinking of you. I didn't want to. It hurt so badly. You had only been gone a few months, and the memories of what happened were still too fresh. But… I couldn't help remembering what it was like seeing you for the first time."

"And what was the first thing you noticed about me?"

I laughed softly in spite of myself. "Honestly? The gray in your hair. And your eyes. Gods, who wouldn't notice those eyes…" I trailed off, remembering and feeling bitter, a sentiment that seeped into my next words. "You're the same man who I first saw here all those years ago, but I'm not the same woman you remember. I've seen terrible things. Done terrible things."

"You haven't changed as much as you think you have," he told me.

My hands clenched into fists. "Don't lie to me."

"I would never lie to you." I suddenly felt the touch of his hand on my back and I inhaled sharply. "I never wanted to hurt you. If there had been a way to save us both, don't you think I would have taken it? I would have done anything."

His touch slowly withdrew.

"But I suppose it doesn't matter anymore," he murmured with audible regret. "I came too late. You feel nothing but hate for me now."

I turned back to stare at him. An ache of grief settled into my bones and I suddenly felt so cold.

"Hate?" I asked, my voice cracking and coming out as little more than a broken whisper. "You think I hate you?"

Silence descended between us, and I suddenly noticed the tears that had begun to slide down my cheeks. I didn't even bother to brush them away. I just watched him. Martin didn't move and he didn't say a word, but he almost looked on the verge of tears himself.

"Having to watch you die was…" I shuddered at the memory. "… I thought I'd never see you again, and it nearly killed me to know that I'd never get the chance to tell you that I loved you."

I looked away.

"Mara…" He whispered.

"Ever since you came back I've been trying to keep my distance. You returning to me, alive? It was too good to be true. Even if you had, thinking that you could still love what I've become is expecting far too much."

He gaped at me, disbelief etched on his face. "I promised you that I would no matter what, didn't I? Have you so little faith in me?"

I hesitated a moment before shaking my head. He took my hands in his, and I marveled at the familiarity of his touch after ten years. I felt the faded calluses, exactly where I remembered them.

"Then trust me, darling, please. Please don't shut me out again. I won't leave you, I swear it."

In the end it wasn't him that I was worried about, not really. It was the world that never seemed to want to let me keep him. It would try to take him from me again, and then–

No. Not again. Never again.

"Curse it. I'll lose you forever if I don't do this." I looked up at him, staring right into his eyes. "I told you once that, if things had been different, I would have said yes. Everything's different now. Everything's changed, and I… What I'm trying to say is…"

There were real tears in his blue eyes then. There was also hope. Hesitant, but present all the same. He remembered.

"Yes," I breathed. "Yes, Martin Septim, I will marry you."

For a moment that seemed to go on forever we stared at each other. Then an elated smile broke across his face like sunlight from behind the clouds. He lifted me up off the floor and spun me around. When he set me back down again I took his face in my hands and kissed him hard, over and over and over. He put his arms around me, holding me close.

"I love you," I told him between each desperate kiss, my voice breaking with trembling laughter. "Zu'u lokaal hi. I love you, I love you…"


I stirred. When I felt arms around me I instantly tensed. Oh gods. I thought it was over.

"Mara, are you awake?" Martin asked in a whisper.

"No," I said, just like I had hundreds of times before. "If I was, you wouldn't be here. You're not real."

I felt his hand caress my cheek, and I tried to pull away. I wasn't going to go through that again.

But he held me, refusing to let go. "I'm here, Mara. Look." He brushed back my hair and kissed my forehead. "I'm here, darling. I'm here. Just open your eyes."

"No. If I do, you'll be gone. I won't do that again. I won't."

His arms tightened around me and for a long time we just lay there. My heart pounded. How long would it last before I had to open my eyes and it was over again? It was always too soon and I was never ready.

"Why do you always have to leave me?" I whispered. My voice cracked a little with the strain of fighting to keep my grief in check. "Why can't you be real for once?"

"I am."

I laughed coldly. "That's what you always say. Why should I believe you now?"

"Because I'm telling you the truth." He cupped my cheek in his hand. I felt the edge of his thumb brush against my eyelashes. "Please. Just open your eyes."

It was too late. I'd been there too long, in that in-between place that existed between waking and dreaming where he still lived. Sooner or later, I would have to wake up and it would be over again. If I stayed any longer, it would hurt more than it had to. I might as well have just gotten it over with. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into a pair of familiar blue ones. My heart nearly stopped.

"See?" He said with a soft smile. Then his face abruptly fell. "Why are you crying?"

I couldn't answer. All I could do was stare at him. My eyes were open, but he was still there. I reached out and hesitantly touched his face with my fingertips. They didn't go through him. I blinked several times, feeling tears coursing down my cheeks.

"You're here," I gasped. "Oh gods, Martin. You're real. You're real."

I threw my arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. My heart felt full to bursting. He was alive. He was alive, and he was really there with me. I never wanted to let him go.

In a pained voice, he asked me, "Is that why you woke up crying every morning? You dreamt I was there?"

"That doesn't matter anymore," I whispered, voice thick with tears. "You're here now."

"I am, Mara. I swear it."

Pulling away, I sat up slightly and pushed Martin down flat against the mattress to get a better look at him. He didn't protest. I brushed my hands through the soft strands of his hair. My fingertips skimmed over the light stubble that covered his jaw. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and my hands trembled against his face.

Voice shaking, I whispered, "You have no idea how much I missed you."

"I do, darling. Believe me," he said, pulling me down to kiss my lips.


A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone.