The world crashed in on them again as the spell ended. Quaranir watched Markus draw his weapons and turn away. His lips were still tingling.
The guards of Winterhold scrambled to make the most of the change in the weather. Arrows were flying. The dragon landed again, this time on the ground, and Quaranir could feel the impact even from where he was standing. Mindful that the Order might be watching proceedings through the manascope, he was obliged to do nothing and he held his breath as Markus charged the creature.
This was no bear. Nevertheless, Markus didn't hesitate. With the guards close behind he attacked the creature, hacking at its neck and head, rolling out of the way as it spewed fire once again. The firelight reflected off his armour, making it gleam.
The dragon took to the sky again, blood falling from its jaws like rain. Again the arrows were flying, and again the great creature was forced to land. Stunned by a blow from a guard's warhammer, the dragon reeled, and Markus jammed his weapon up through its jaw to the hilt, and wrenched it free.
With a dying groan, the dragon collapsed, and Quaranir could see its soul seething under its flaking skin, and then it sought another's. Markus shuddered as he absorbed the soul. Quaranir's mouth was dry. He hadn't quite accepted the visceral truth of what it meant to be Dragonborn. Markus had. He opened his eyes and sagged slightly, as the guards cheered and clapped.
"I didn't see you earlier," Markus said, when he approached Quaranir again. Now that his heartbeat had returned mostly to normal, Quaranir was quietly worrying; he'd kissed him. What happened next?
"I only just, well, we need to talk," Quaranir said.
Markus looked a bit sheepish as well, "I um, probably should have said something first, huh? Or do you mean the whole Dragonborn thing? I just didn't want to tell everyone. Although everyone knows now."
"I don't mind that. But did you really join the College?" Quaranir asked.
"Well, only sort of. I need to go the library, so we can talk there if you like."
"Err, no we can't," Quaranir said, putting a hand on his arm. Thank goodness the manascope didn't transmit sound. "I'm not actually a member, and I'd rather to have to explain myself to them."
Markus frowned, "Are you going to explain yourself to me?"
Quaranir took a deep breath. "Yes."
Which was how they ended up in the inn. Quaranir didn't want anyone overhearing them, and so Markus had good naturedly suggested they get a room. Quaranir had spluttered, but it was the best idea. They ordered mead and sweetrolls and Quaranir resisted the urge to try the boiled creme treats.
Markus sat on the bed and Quaranir had the only chair. Markus took his gloves off to eat.
"All right," he said. "You first. If you're not here to join the College, why are you here?"
"Have you heard of the Psijic Order?"
"Nope." Not only had Markus not heard of it, Quaranir had to work quite hard to convince him it wasn't some bizarre practical joke. The Order's secrets weren't supposed to be spilled so easily, but once he started talking about it, Quaranir found it hard to stop; it was such a relief not to have to tell lies any more.
Eventually he ran out of things to say. He fell silent, and waited for Markus to respond.
"So you did all of this because of a hunch?" he asked.
"It's not really a hunch. If you interact with the College, it will happen. You were so adamant about not joining, why are you here anyway?"
"Like I said, I'm not really joining. I need access to the library. I need to- well, I don't understand all of it, but you've seen that I'm the Dragonborn. I might have the best chance of anyone of getting rid of the dragons. Once I have what I came for, I don't intend to come back here. Especially since you aren't even a member."
Quaranir flushed, "I see. I should observe and make sure you visit has no other consequences then."
"Can you at least tell me what horrible thing might happen?"
"We're not entirely sure. It's not an exact science, and as you've demonstrated it might not happen at all now. You're not angry, are you?"
"Why should I be? You're just doing your job."
Quaranir sagged with relief. "Thank you."
"So you decided to stay in Skyrim?" Quaranir was relieved that, despite the armour and the weapons, the man inside seemed much the same as ever. Already he could feel himself falling into the rhythm of their friendship, as if they'd known each other for years rather than days.
"I kept finding words," Markus said. "And more dragons showed up. Leaving started to feel too much like running away. And I finally got a letter from my father; he said a man needs to wander before he settles, so he knows what settling means. He said he always thought I had a touch of wanderlust, and that as long as I write, he doesn't expect the money back. I sent him the money anyway, but it was a weight off my mind."
"If you do manage to defeat the dragons, you'll be a hero," Quaranir pointed out.
Markus chuckled and shook his head, "Ah, that's what they say anyhow. I'm just me. I apologise for kissing you like that, by the way. I should have asked first."
Quaranir toyed with the bottle of mead and then put it back on the table. That was the outstanding matter, wasn't it? He shouldn't have, but Quaranir couldn't bring himself to regret it.
"Why did you do it?" he asked.
"Why?" Markus sat up and looked at him incredulously. "Why do you think? Because I like you. Because I missed you. Because you looked so damn happy to see me I couldn't help myself. I don't care if you're psychic."
"Psijic-"
"Whatever." Quaranir raised his eyebrows as Markus stood up and walked over to kneel by his chair. "I regretted not seeing you off with something more. I think you like me too, don't you?"
"Well, yes, but Markus, I'm a member of the Psijic Order – we dedicate our lives to the study of magic, we're not supposed to be distracted like this. I just shouldn't. I'm very sorry."
Markus looked a bit nonplussed. "Is it really that distracting?"
"Yes! For the last six months you've been worming your way into every stray thought. I daydream when I should be brainstorming. And that's only when I'm awake."
Markus grinned, looking rather pleased with himself. "Really?" His smile faded, "Well, I'm not going to argue if you've made up your mind. I guess I'm sorry I distracted you. I'll go to the library now, and you can make your observations, alright?" He got to his feet and collected his gloves. Quaranir bowed his head and listened to his footsteps as he walked to the door.
"Stop! Wait." He was on his feet and out of his chair before he'd really registered what he was doing. Markus stopped, but he didn't turn around; Quaranir realised he'd said what he had to say, and it was up to him now what to do with it. Quaranir hovered there for a few moments, instincts that had always seemed so tame and subservient to the study of magic had suddenly grown powerful, almost overwhelming.
Let him go, one last rational thought pleaded. And regret it for the rest of your life, was the reply.
Quaranir placed his hands on Markus's armoured shoulders. "Don't go," he said quietly. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. Sometimes he forgot how much shorter Markus was; he seemed larger than life sometimes, but Quaranir had to bend his head slightly to talk into his ear.
"What about distracting you?" Markus was still looking straight ahead at the door.
"I really don't think I can be any more distracted than I already am," Quaranir confessed. Markus smiled and turned his head to look at him, and Quaranir took the opportunity to kiss him again, hesitantly, his eyes squeezed shut.
It was almost like he'd stopped time again. He heard a metallic thud on the floor and when Markus reached back and tangled his fingers in Quaranir's hair he realised he'd dropped his gloves.
When they broke apart and Quaranir opened his eyes, the look Markus was giving him made him instantly tongue-tied and warm and his robes were constricting him. Markus turned around to face him, while Quaranir worked his jaw trying to form words.
"I've never done this sort of, you know," he said desperately.
"Yes, I get it, you're a psychic monk. It's okay, I'm not exactly an expert." He chuckled, "We'll figure it out."
Quaranir didn't correct him.
