So with the craziness that is my life, updates will be pretty sporadic... But I'm going to do my best with a once-a-month schedule!

So read on, my friends! I hope you all enjoy! :D

Disclaimer; I make no effort to claim that I own The Elder Scrolls Four; Oblivion. The rights and ownership belong solely to Bethesda; I am simply one of their many players :) Lethia, however, is mine :3

-x-

"So what happens next?" Lethia's voice was quiet as she settled herself in Martin's arms. "What would happen if Jauffre or any of the other Blades find out?" Martin gently kissed the top of Lethia's head, saying nothing.

"You're an Emperor, Martin." The young heir remained silent.

"We will have to keep this... us... a secret."

"Let us simply live right now, my love," Martin whispered, planting a kiss on Lethia's ear. "I understand that we will have to pretend that the feelings between us are no more than lord and guard, but I don't want to bring that to mind just yet. Now, I want to hear no more talk on pretending we do not love each other." Martin playfully poked Lethia in the ribs. "That is my first decree as Emperor."

"You're not Emperor yet, Martin," Lethia chuckled, resting her head against Martin's chest. "Don't count your kwamas before they hatch."

-x-

The moons were well past their zenith by the time the joyous gathering finally began to wind down. Having proclaimed his undying love to Catherine, Fortis promptly passed out on her lap and needed to be carried down to his bedroll, whilst Baurus was locked in an arm wresting match with Steffan.

"You can stay with us down in the barracks, Lethia," Cyrus suggested, standing beside Martin and opposite to the Dark Elf. "I'm sure we've got an extra bedroll or two in the storage house." Lethia smiled lightly and shook her head.

"No, but thank you. I have a house down in Bruma, near the east gate." Lethia turned to face Martin and smiled again.

"If you're settled in, my lord, then I'll take my leave. If you need something, Jauffre or any of the other Blades will be more than willing to oblige, and if you're desperate, you can make the trip down to the city and get me." Lethia bowed respectfully towards Martin and nodded at Cyrus. "My lord, Cyrus, I bid you good evening." With that, Lethia turned on her heel and descended the stone stairs leading down to the foot of Cloud Ruler.

"She sure is amazing," Cyrus grinned, still a bit buzzed from all the ale and mead. "It's a shame she turned down Jauffre's offer to join the Blades." Martin snapped his gaze over to the soldier, confused.

"What?" Genuine confusion was written all over Martin's face as he questioned Cyrus. "To what purpose? Did she give a reason?" Cyrus laughed loudly, his reaction inflated by the amount of alcohol in his system.

"She didn't say why, except to give her 'sincerest apologies' and to say that she 'couldn't devote herself to something that broad and challenging.'" Cyrus snorted. "We've all heard of how she took down the daedra back in Kvatch; she told us herself. She's more than capable of carrying out the duties of a Blade. Personally, I think she might have drank too much apple cider." Cyrus gave a heavy wink to Martin at the mention of the cider, which led the priest to believe that it wasn't just boiled apples in the large barrels alongside the mead.

-x-

Lethia looked up at the house in front of her, the familiar wood panels softly reflecting the golden glow of the lit pyres scattered across the snowy town of Bruma. With a knot of emotions clotted in her throat, Lethia ascended the short steps and placed her hand against the door, withdrawing a key from her haversack. She pushed it into the small keyhole, and with a turn and click, the door creaked open.

As the moonlight flooded in, it pooled around Lethia's dark shadow, illuminating the wooden floor. Lethia stepped in and closed the door behind her, using her back to press it shut. The moment the tumbler clicked into place, the room was plunged into darkness. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Lethia glanced around, seeing everything right where she left it, albeit coated with a thick layer of dust. Lethia carefully made her way to the kitchen and dining section of the upstairs, her eyes still adjusting.

Kneeling by the fireplace, she dragged over a couple of the larger splits of wood stacked in the corner beside the hearth. Arranging them in an artistic manner, Lethia smiled slightly and flexed her hand, conjuring a fireball. Sending it into the center of the pile, the ball of flame burst and spread quickly, engulfing the logs entirely.

As the blaze roared to life, the small hearth began to glow warmly with the heat of the fire. The flames licked at the logs, snapping and popping when they found a small pocket of dried sap in the sturdy Jerall wood. Lethia stood and took down the long stick from above the mantle. Holding it above the flame, she waited for a few moments, until the tip was glowing fiercely with a tiny flame. Carrying it with her as she went through the house, she used it to light the old, dusty candelabras, and soon, both floors of her home were glowing with a soft yellow light.

When she lit the last remaining sconce, in her downstairs bedroom, Lethia blew out the stick and tossed it aside, flopping tiredly onto her bed and sprawling across the dusty silk sheets. Letting a sigh pass through her parted lips, Lethia sat up and reached behind her head, pulling out the long pins that held her braid up. Her silky coral hair loosely tumbled down over her shoulders and washed over her back. Her sword belt was the first to come off, her new katana and sheath — given to her by Jauffre before she left, despite her refusal to join the Blades — both proudly reflecting spots of candlelight as she placed them beside her bed. Tugging at the leather straps of her cuirass, she pulled it off and placed both pieces beside her sword belt, the growing pile of metal soon joined by her cowskin skirt and her boots.

Just as soon as her last piece of armor came off, a chill swept over Lethia, and she quickly hopped off her bed and opened the top drawer of her dresser, pulling out her dusty casual wear. She tugged on her old breeches and pulled her off-white tunic over her head, brushing off the dust that had somehow made its way into the drawer.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Lethia gazed around the room, everything still exactly where she remembered it.

The tall bookshelves still held her favorite books in the top shelves and assorted trinkets and various alchemical supplies in the lower shelves. Her battered silver short sword still hung on the small oak display board she had put together, and her old steel bow still rested in the same corner as her spruce wood desk.

The only difference was the thick layer of dust that coated every surface, a testament to how long it had been since Lethia was last in Cyrodiil.

-x-

The midday sun shone down on the snowy town and its residents, the night's snowfall glittering with the light. Two of the inhabitants of the small city, however, were not there to sight see.

"Fortis, you can wait out here if you want," Martin offered. "It'll only take a moment."

"Yes, my lord," the Blade replied, taking a guard-like position beside the steps. Martin ascended the few steps, knocking lightly on the door before stepping into Lethia's house.

"Lethia?" His quiet call echoed slightly, reverberating against the thick Jerall wood. Hearing no reply, Martin gently closed the door behind him and took a moment to study the front room.

There was a short table to Martin's right, littered with books and an elven shortsword. There was a three-seat bench where one could sit down to remove their boots or shoes next to it, but it too was covered with books. To his left sat a small table, and a thin stack of unused parchment sat atop it. A quill sat atop the corked inkwell in the upper left corner of the table, and beside it was a dried sprig of lavender.

Against the wall just opposite the door stood a shelf with a couple built-in drawers, much like the one in Martin's own room. Books were crammed into the shelves and stacked in small piles around it. Atop one of the smaller towers of books perched a Varla stone, recognizable to Martin by its distinctive phosphorescent coloring.

Stairs led down to the lower level of the house from the edge of the entryway, and a short railing rimmed the edge of the floorboards around the stairwell. A short hallway connected the front room to the joint dining and living room. From his position, Martin saw a small table in the passageway with Lethia's iron armor sitting atop it. Her worn boots slouched beneath the table, and the iron shin guards were laid beside the mass of beaten leather. As he approached the table, Martin noticed the slightly crinkled section of the front plate of her cuirass. He ran his finger along the jagged edges, wondering what could had crumpled the thick metal and why he hadn't noticed it before.

"I haven't had the time to get that properly pounded out yet." Martin was snapped out of his musings and spun to see Lethia sitting in the single chair at her kitchen table. She flashed a bright grin and used her feet to push her chair back, standing up when there was enough space between the table and chair to do so.

"I'm sorry for just barging in," Martin absolved. Lethia chuckled lightly and flicked a strand of hair from her face. Her bright coral hair was out of its normal twisted braid, and gently caressed her shoulders and chest. Her simple white undertunic was thin and had long, drooping sleeves with thick cuffs, and, having been untucked, fell past the waistband of her spruce colored breeches. Put simply, she was an angel of Dibella in Martin's eyes.

"No, no, it's quite alright." Lethia smiled. "I apologize for not welcoming you properly; I tend to get lost in the pages when I read a good book. However, my detect life spell alerted me to your presence. I cast it habitually every couple of minuets; old trick I learned when I lived in Morrowind." There was a moment of silence, Lethia not knowing what else to say and Martin still unable to speak.

"Well, this is my home," Lethia broke the silence as she smiled and gestured vaguely to the space around her. "It's not much, but it's comfortable. This old place allows the luxury of being both roomy yet cozy."

"I-it does indeed," Martin smiled back, his voice returning. Remembering the overflowing bookshelf, Martin spoke again.

"I noticed on the way in that your bookshelf is quite full. Putting that with what you were doing when I came in, I assume you read frequently."

"I do," Lethia smiled brightly, her eyes lighting up. "I take great pleasure in reading. Those who read fiction have the opportunity to live in another world or exist somewhere else, and those who read nonfiction can broaden their minds and take in new knowledge, further expanding their prospective." Lethia's brow creased as she seemed to remember something.

"It was a nasty job cleaning this place out," she mused, her nose crinkling to match her forehead. "The bookshelves were the worst. I've only just cleared the last bit of dust and cobweb out of my lungs." Martin laughed heartily, and not long after he began, Lethia chuckled as well.

"So how long have you lived here, Lethia?" Martin asked as his mirth died down. "It doesn't seem like you've only just purchased it."

"You're correct," Lethia smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I've had this place for... Well, it must be five years now."

"Five years..." Martin repeated, his tone betraying his confusion. "Lethia, this may be off-subject, but how old are you?" Lethia chuckled, shaking her head.

"Fourty-two," Lethia smiled. "Still just a—." Lethia suddenly stopped, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Martin, did you come here alone?" Martin shook his head.

"No, Fortis insisted that I bring him along. He's just outside the do—"

"Oh, for Stendarr's sake, Martin! Let him in!" Lethia rushed past the flustered man and opened the door, nearly dragging the Blade inside.

"I'm sorry, Fortis," Lethia absolved as she closed the door behind them. "I had no idea you were here as well!" The Blade just smiled and shook his head.

"No, no, don't worry about it," Fortis smiled. "It's my duty to protect the emperor, and besides, Cloud Ruler is just as cold as Bruma is. I hardly feel the cold."

"I understand completely, but that doesn't mean you have to wait outside. But on that note, what brings you two down to my home? I doubt it was to make small talk." Fortis chuckled.

"Indeed, Jauffre wanted us to inform you of what we're doing next. He's already sent Baurus down to the Imperial City to root out as many Mythic Dawn members and sympathizers as he can." Fortis shuffled his feet, hesitating slightly. "He also wishes that... Well, Jauffre would like you to do the same. He wants you to meet Baurus at Luther Broad's Boarding House tomorrow afternoon to help him. He knows that you're not a Blade, but—" Lethia nodded quickly, cutting off Fortis.

"Understood. I'll set off for the Imperial City immediately." With that, Lethia bowed to Fortis and Martin, who both returned the gesture. Fortis opened the door for Martin, and Lethia held it open for Fortis.

"Good luck, Lethia," Martin smiled from the bottom of the steps, worry apparent in his voice. "May your journey be safe, and the road remain clear." With a smile, a nod, and a bow, Lethia closed the door, leaving the prince and escort to themselves.

"She'll be fine, my lord," Fortis reassured. "If Lethia can tackle a horde of daedra in the realm of a Daedric Prince, she can travel the few miles south to the Imperial City and take care of a couple assassins." Martin sighed.

"I know, I just hate having to send her off like a dog."

While the two men began their journey back up to Cloud Ruler Temple, Lethia was in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed yet again.

"Something inconspicuous enough to not be recognized in, but protective enough to not get killed in," she muttered to herself, wondering what would be suitable for her trip. "Civilian clothes are out of the question, so it'll have to be some light armor that's easy to move in, yet strong enough to withstand a lot of knocking about."

-x-

Lethia placed her ruined iron cuirass on the table, wearing only her undertunic and a thin pair of breeches.

"Can you repair this, Fjotreid? I need it fixed soon if I'm to make it back to the Imperial City by nightfall." Fjotreid, owner and proprietor of the Hammer and Axe, as well as an old friend, looked up from his anvil and smiled lightly.

"No problem, Miss Atherayn," he said, placing his tongs on the edge of the furnace well and rubbing his hands on his leather apron. "I can have it done within the hour." Lethia smiled back and sat in the chair beside the wares cabinet.

"Just Lethia's fine, and thank you, Fjotreid," she smiled, settling down to wait. "I'll also need a new bowstring and some new boots. I won't need any shin guards, though, just some durable leather."

"The strings will be on the top shelf," Fjotreid said as he nodded towards the wares cabinet beside Lethia. "And the extra skin boots are right beneath it."

"Ah, thank you," Lethia smiled again, flashing her bright teeth at the helpful Nord. She stood and opened the cabinet doors, scanning the top half for the thin metal strings. Finding a small bundle of them, Lethia carefully withdrew one and closed the cabinet. Bending down to examine the small pile of cow skin boots, Lethia sorted out a pair — thankfully tied together with a strip of rawhide — and tried them on, finding them to be a perfect fit.

"I'll take these," Lethia said as she placed the boots and bowstring on the table in front of Fjotreid. Noticing a bundle of arrows beside a small, leather waist quiver on the chest of drawers behind the tall Nord, Lethia pointed at the pile. "And those."

-x-

Lethia's thick boots beat a steady rhythm against the cobblestone bridge spanning the Upper Niben. Her new boots, fitted with the shin guards from her old ones, were already broken in, and with the iron sole that Fjotreid had attached — free of charge — Lethia was willing to bet any amount that they would last a good year. Her iron cuirass fit better than ever, and it was slightly thinner, thanks to the Nord blacksmith's clever handiwork when he pounded out the creased, broken section. Her katana hung in its sheath at her waist, and on the other side of her belt hung a quiver of iron-tipped arrows. Slung over her left shoulder was her old steel bow, freshly strung and ready to send arrows flying.

The pyres were unlit, but Masser and Secunda provided just enough light for Lethia to see in relative detail. The twin moons were at their zenith, suspended in a sea of stars, signaling midnight. Pausing for a moment to adjust the hem of her boots, Lethia looked up to see a dark figure approaching her. As it neared, Lethia recognized the feline attributes and swishing tail, identifying the figure as kahjiit.

"One hundred septims to pass this way," the kahjiit growled, his snout crinkling into a threatening sneer. "Pay up or die." Lethia's eyes narrowed.

"Take it from me," the dark elf challenged, drawing her katana. "If you can." It was the kahjiit's turn to narrow his eyes.

"Easily done," he purred, drawing his mace and charging Lethia. She easily sidestepped his swing and cleanly slit his throat as he flew past, his body falling awkwardly to the ground, his blood pooling around his neck on the cold stone bridge.

"How easy was that?" Lethia asked the corpse as she sheathed her katana, giving the felled kahjiit a shove with the toe of her boot and sending the body tumbling into the Nibenay. Even a horde of daedra could not make Lethia halt her movement, nor break her high spirits. Not only was she close to the Imperial City, but she was ahead of schedule, due to Fjotreid's swift service.

"I might even get a good five hours of sleep," Lethia said as she smiled to herself.

-x-

Lethia walked into Luther Broad's Boarding House, well-rested from the good amount of sleep she had gotten at the King and Queen Tavern the night before, and well fed from the hearty breakfast she had purchased there. Quickly scanning the room, she recognized Baurus — albeit with some difficulty, since he was dressed as a civilian — and slowly approached him. As she neared the bar, he noticed her, but said nothing. Noting his secretive manner, Lethia decided to play along. She sat with a seat between them and ordered a goblet of Tamika West Weald, picking up a nearby copy of the Black Horse Courier. When Luther brought her drink, she smiled at him and continued to read, pretending to pay attention to the words printed on the page.

"I'm going to stand up in a moment," Baurus whispered into his tankard, barely moving his lips. "I'm going to walk down to the basement, and that guy in the corner will follow me. You follow him." With that, Baurus took one last swig of ale before standing up, proceeding with his plan. Sure enough, the Imperial who was brooding in the far corner of the boarding house folded his neglected copy of the Black Horse Courier and followed Baurus, tossing the scroll of parchment on the bar as he passed by it.

Lethia took a final sip from her goblet, placed the appropriate amount of Septims on the counter beside her unfinished drink and stood up, following the two men through the basement door and down the stairs. As she crept down the stairs, she saw the man conjure up a set of daedric armor and rush Baurus with his mace drawn. Thinking quickly, Lethia dashed down the remaining stairs and sent a fireball into the assassin's back, knocking him right into Baurus' waiting katana. The man, now revealed to be a member of the Mythic Dawn, fell to the floor of the cellar, his lifeless eyes wide with shock.

"Search his body," Baurus ordered, sheathing his katana. "See if there's anything interesting." Lethia knelt and searched through the folds of the man's oversized shirt. Her fingers found something wrapped in lamb skin, and she pulled it out and unwrapped it.

"It's a book," she muttered, opening the worn leather cover. "Ah, the 'Commentaries.' First volume, from what I can tell."

"What?" Baurus looked confused. "What are the 'Commentaries?'"

"It's a work by Mankar Camoran himself to welcome in new initiates to the cult of the Mythic Dawn. Mostly blatant narcissism and propaganda if you ask me." A discontented look passed over Lethia's face. "Unfortunately, I don't know much about the cult outside of what I've read about them and the few interactions I've had with their more aggressive members."

"Hmmm..." Baurus absently scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I hear that there is an Argonian scholar at the Arcane University named Tar-Meena who is an expert on Daedric cults. She can probably help you pinpoint the Mythic Dawn headquarters. In the meantime, I'll keep scouring the city for Mythic Dawn agents." Lethia nodded.

"Sounds like a good plan," Lethia agreed. "I'll head straight to the Arcane University." Lethia bowed her head to Baurus and turned on her heel, starting a brisk walk towards the stairs.

"By the way," Baurus supplied, making Lethia pause to glance back at him. "I am glad to see you, Lethia. You just caught me at a bad time." Baurus smiled weakly. "As you know, the world has quite literally gone to Oblivion." Lethia chuckled.

"That it has."

-x-

The great central spire stood tall and proud, watching over the mages, scholars and apprentices that roamed the Arcane University grounds. The circular stone pyres that flanked the staircases were burning brightly with magic flame, the iridescence reflecting purple. Lethia stood just inside the gate in awe, shell struck by the sheer magnificence of the grounds.

Brought back to the task at hand by a cheery Imperial Battlemage asking if she needed anything, Lethia strode down the stairs, crossed the short expanse of grass, and climbed up the stairs leading to the central spire.

Pausing briefly to admire the Mage's Eye glyph set into the stone walkway in front of the door, Lethia grasped the iron ring of the door and pulled it open, quickly stepping through and pulling it shut behind her.

The room was dimly lit, the light provided by half-melted candles on the desk and in the candelabras scattered around the perimeter and the faint glow of the magic glyphs on the stair portal. A middle-aged Imperial man sat on one of the benches alongside an Argonian woman, both of whom were entranced with their individual books.

"Excuse me," Lethia asked, addressing the Argonian. "Do you happen to be acquainted with Tar-Meena?" The Argonian turned her scaled head slowly, finishing a line of text before she gave Lethia her full attention.

"I am Tar-Meena," she drawled, seemingly annoyed with the disturbance. "Were you looking for me?"

"Ah, excellent!" Lethia gave the Argonian a bright smile, attempting to lighten her mood. "My name is Lethia Atherayn, and I've heard you're quite the expert on, well, most everything." Lethia smiled inwardly as Tar-Meena sat a little taller at the compliment. "I'm in need of some information on a Daedric Cult."

"Well, you've come to the right Argonian," Tar-Meena smiled proudly, showing off her sharp white teeth. "Which cult do you need to learn about?"

"The Mythic Dawn," Lethia replied. "I know a small bit about them from the "Commentaries," but I need a more in-depth explanation of their culture."

"Well, I'm sorry to say not much is know about them. They're a rather secretive bunch." Tar-Meena thought for a moment. "But I can tell you what I know. From reading the 'Commentaries,' you hopefully recognize the name Mankar Camoran?" Only pausing to acknowledge Lethia's nod, Tar-Meena continued.

"The Mythic Dawn believe Mankar Camoran to be a prophet of the end times; they follow the teachings of the 'Commentaries.' Camoran is known as the "Master" by members of the cult and was supposedly given the Mysterium Xarxes by Mehrunes Dagon himself." Tar-Meena sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, that's about all we know about the Mythic Dawn. No member is willing to give out any details besides what we already have." The Argonian seemed to realize something and turned her full attention back to Lethia.

"Forgive me, but is there any particular reason why it's the Mythic Dawn you're inquiring about?"

"I'm looking for them," Lethia said simply, not wanting to divulge too much.

"Find them, eh?" Tar-Meena chuckled slightly. "So, you are the one I was told about. Don't worry, I won't poke my nose any further. Official business and all that. I'm used to working with the Blades; say no more." The Argonian scholar sighed again.

"In any case, finding them won't be easy. I've studied Mankar Camoran's writings a bit myself, well, at least those that I could find. It's clear from the first volume of the 'Commentaries' that there are four volumes, but I've only ever seen the first two." Tar-Meena paused, smiling like a child who kept a secret. "I believe that his writings contain hidden clues to the location of the Mythic Dawn's secret shrine to Mehrunes Dagon, and that those who unlock this hidden plan have proven themselves worthy to join the ranks of the cult. If you want to find them, you first need all four volumes of the 'Commentaries.'" Lethia nodded sharply.

"Okay, as I no longer have access to the library where I first read them, where else could I find volumes two, three and four?" Tar-Meena thought for a moment, her scaled brow crinkling in thought.

"You may use my copy of volume two if you treat it gently, but as for three and four, I have never even seen them. You should check with Phintias in the First Edition. He caters to special collectors, so he may have an idea of where to locate those books."

"Thank you for all your help, Tar-Meena," Lethia smiled brightly. "Here, I'll give this to you for safe-keeping." Tar-Meena smiled back and took the offered book, setting it beside the second volume on the counter.

"Good luck, Lethia Atherayn," she beamed. "It was wonderful chatting with you. I hope you return soon with volumes three and four in hand."

"Count on it," Lethia said as she bowed in farewell. With confidence in the ease of finding two books, Lethia strode out of the Mage's Tower.

-x-

"Divines be damned," Lethia huffed as she leaned against the wall just outside of the First Edition, annoyed at Phintias. "Damned s'wit won't sell to a higher-paying customer just because of some silly promise." Even with her previous — and frequent — visits to the First Edition to purchase assorted books, Phintias remained resolute in his refusal to sell her the third volume of the 'Commentaries.'

Lethia's attention was suddenly drawn to an extravagantly robed Bosmer who had just strolled around the corner and into her line of sight. His sand-colored hair was pulled up into a tight topknot, and he seemed to have a permanent look of discontent etched into his young face. Noticing the way his body was angled towards the First Edition, Lethia wondered if this was the 'Gwinas' that Phintias had promised volume three to.

-x-

Lethia smiled to herself in triumph. In her hands was the third volume of the 'Commentaries,' and Gwinas was quickly retreating back to wherever he came from. He had been no more than a sheltered rich boy, hiding behind lies of understanding. He had no idea the extent of the Mythic Dawn, and upon learning that it had been the very same cult who had murdered the Emperor, the young Bosmer promptly handed the volume and a slip of paper to Lethia and dashed off, frightened of any association with the cult.

Glancing down at the piece of parchment, Lethia recognized it as a meeting reminder. Apparently, Gwindas had been after the fourth volume as well and the third.

"Talk about two cliff racers with one arrow," Lethia whispered to herself, smiling as she tucked the book beneath her arm and began searching for Baurus.

-x-

"So you're saying this meeting is tonight?" Lethia nodded at Baurus' question, having briefed him on the subject when she found him — coincidentally — wandering the market district.

"Well then," Baurus gave Lethia a bright smile. "We'd better attend the meeting. If what Tar-Meena says is true, the key to finding the Mythic Dawn lies with this final book."

"Agreed," Lethia nodded again. "But first, I'm going to drop this—" Lethia paused to motion to the third volume of the 'Commentaries' with her arm, "—off with Tar-Meena. It's much safer with her, since we'll be down in the sewers."

-x-

Well, that's it, folks! I hope you all enjoyed :) again, I apologize for the lateness. Expect a chapter up sometime in December or January; I'm not going to keep procrastinating as much as I have been.

If you're looking for another Oblivion read that's AWESOME (and completed), check out "Twist of Fate" by Phoenicia here on FFN. It's one hundred and eight chapters long, but SOO worth it! I finished it myself a couple days ago :) also, if any of you have a fic you'd like me to read, such as one of your own or a friend's, don't hesitate to PM me a link or the name!