Author's Notes:
No affiliation with TES series, Bethesda Softworks, etc… Hetalia, OC, intellectual property of Kliban Katz. Italics represent a current thought.
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Chapter Summary:
A trip to the Chapel of Talos, for an unexpected diagnosis. Will a cure help any? And no, Hetalia is not having an Ally McBeal moment; this isn't her maternal lock ticking; she's only losing her mind. She later decides to go to with the Blades to Blackwood for a powwow with the local guards.
This morning I was in the chapel in Bruma. I had left the temple before anyone had awoken. I was actually becoming quite adept at that. Light filtered through the shiny stained glass on the pew in which I sat. I inched myself away from the imposing light for fear it might burn me. My, I was in such a state from sitting here all morning. I had come for a blessing and some prayer, but I found when I arrived it took me much of the morning to remember why I had even made the trip. The priests of the chapel looked at my strangely with their pious eyes. Had they not seen a woman spend her day in quiet reflection before? Perhaps citizens of Bruma had no need for the Nine or prayer. I wrung my hands in the pew. I was sure the blood would start to flow any time now. My, you would think my hands were as dry as hay. Why would they not produce the damned liquid? They would never dry at this rate if I could not get the liquid out. Something touched me.
"Ma'am, have you come to seek healing?" It was a Reguard.
"You the Bladesmaster?"
"No, I'm Cirroc. Just the healer, but I can help you."
"Your altar's broken. Or Talos is out lunching! Damned thing doesn't work."
"If the altar refuses you healing, I believe it is due to something needing to be mended within. You've upset the gods somehow."
"Nonesense!"
"Would you like to try again, Ma'am?"
"Oh, no. I cannot be bothered. I'll just sit here."
"I really shouldn't do this… I haven't seen a case like this in a while. Have you been chasing after any zombies?" Cirroc felt my temples and I squirmed.
"Aye, perhaps a fortnight or so ago. What is this about?"
"The gods won't heal you but I feel bad to leave you this way." He waved his hands, weaving some spell. I shrieked and covered my face with my hands. "Not much worry if you don't run about in the ruins, but it's still only a simple disease. You should feel better."
"You think I have Collywobbles?"
"No, ma'am. Serpiginous Dementia. Makes you sick as a dog and you don't even know it. Give it a few moments before you get up. Disease of the mind takes some time longer to heal."
In a short time I found myself able to restrain myself from wringing my hands, but the fear of the world around me never dissipated and before long I found it difficult to remain seated. I found myself pacing, rearranging the candles and offerings around the altar. There was this babe, his image following me all about the hall. There, then, gone. Completely stoic; just staring dead at me. I tried to leave, but I could not bring myself to open the door. If I went outside he would surely get me, this child. He was surely a Septim baby with those blue eyes, but whose? For fear of my life, I remained in the Chapel all day.
---
Martin was here. I was back in the temple. No, there was no Chapel in the temple. He had come to the Chapel, yes. I took a deep breath. My mind was going to pot.
"You worry me so when you leave like that. I feared you had left for Sancre Tor. You said you intended to go this week."
"I did?" He helped me up from the pew.
"You seem quite well today. Have you received healing?" I eyed the altar at the far end of the chapel. The ghost baby looked up from the centre.
"Yes." Frightening, but what a beautiful baby boy. He had eyes like his daddy, Martin's shade of chestnut hair... A striking resemblance, really. I grasped my belly. Oh. Oh, no. No, no. I was fervently shaking my head. Martin looked at me oddly.
"We've sent Baurus and a troupe of three others to Sancre Tor in your place. Jauffre knew you weren't feeling up to it."
"No, you insisted that he not send me on grounds that you have taken me as mistress! You demanded that he mustn't! I heard!" He cupped his hand over my mouth, and I looked around seeing several faithful turn their heads to peek at us near the doors. I was indignant. He pulled me out of the chapel. I clung to his robe for dear life.
"You treat me as though I am a child. To what end?"
"Ah, then I see you truly have made improvement. Glad to see that you are once again with us. We're on our way back to Cloud Ruler now, and I want you to get a lot of rest. In the morning, you and Baragon are off to the Niben and Blackwood."
"For what?" We had reached the stables. He had me ride behind him, clinging to his waist.
"With the volume of gates that have been opening recently, there is no way possible to send one person to close them all. So, through consensus we have resolved that you should be chaperoned to the major cities to inform the guards about the operation of these gates."
"Should the gates not have destroyed the land by now? It has been a while since I have had the pleasure." In fact it had been quite a while since I had stepped inside a gate. Bravil's had been my last. The child was now in a tree. Dear gods, what sorcery had this "healer" cast upon me?
"These gates are rather inactive. Probably opened by junior members of the Dawn. They are more of a nuisance than threat, provided no one wanders in." Mother. I didn't want to go down to that part of the country again. There was a twinge of pain in my heart. I feared it would have been too much to bear. "What do you think?"
I took another long moment to ponder the idea. Martin was starting to grow on me, but I feared it had only been due to my illness. The last time I go searching for Welkynd stones. Was there anything else left for me in Bravil that I would wish to return to? I thought long and hard. We were almost near the temple now. Oh! The Bravil fences! The shady fellows that hang about the docks! I could sell my gems while I was in the area.
"It sounds like a wonderful idea." I said as we walked up the steps. I must have taken too long to think on it because I had to remind him of what I was agreeing to.
---
It was late after mealtime and I was still in the dining quarters. I could not bring myself to eat with the phantom child looking on. I said not a word to the Blades around me at the height of the hour, but only stared sharply at the infant who was in everyplace at once. There were only a few of us left here now and there were a handful of polite exchanges going on in the background. It all seemed to run together as I tried to block out the image of the baby as I ate. The sounds grew louder and louder. The child grew bolder, coming right before my eyes and blinking threateningly.
"Stop it, stop it. Away with you…!" I was trying to keep my voice down as to not draw suspicion. "Away! Away!" I shooed it. It only grew bolder. It lay now on the table next to me, its head cocked to the side and softly cooing, but without movement. The menacing beast! The cooing became louder and louder until it blocked out the now booming conversations of the Blades behind me. There was a smith's hammer that had been abandoned on the tabletop. This is my chance! This damned child will haunt me no further! I rose to my feet and lifted the hammer over my head. With one quick movement, I tenderized the demon child. Blood spurted everywhere. My hands were a mess. Dear gods… I brought my hands up to my face. They were trembling. I covered my gaping mouth. What have I done?
Ferrum's head appeared over my shoulder. "It's about time we cut up that watermelon. Good going!" I tore out of the hall, covered in juice.
Needless to say, the child molested me no more.
---
With the excuse of needing to gather my strength, I scooted off to the soldiers' sleeping quarters before Martin had an opportunity to deter me. He'd insist I stay in his suite if he could catch me. And in the morning, when he would think I had slept in, I would hear Jauffre, stepping beyond his station and admonishing Martin for bedding yet again the 'harlot usurper that would destroy him before he could ascend the throne.' I had no opinion. I desired not for the throne, and not for this man's heart. T'would only slip through my fingers like ectoplasm if I had sought it. He was a fool who thought with something other than his pride, and whatever lot it led him to, I could only hope he would be happy he had chosen it when all was done.
It wouldn't be much longer before I could send my pretty black piggies to market. They hummed to me in the silence of the room, cradled in the wooden chest. The enchantments I placed on it swaddled them like a blanket. They would be safe until morning. I lay down to sleep, not without the fear of dreams.