A/N: At long last! Between me neglecting this for For a Jester's Heart, and losing the chapter to a virus, I have officially found my backups and I now present to you chapter fourteen!
Update: Ok, I've fixed and changed a few minor things in all the chapters so far: chapter 15 should be up in a week or so. I apologise for the delay - I've been having far too much fun writing For the Jester's Heart, so that one is coming along nicely while this one is crying in a forgotten corner. So sorry:(

Chapter 14: A Brief Stop-Over

I didn't notice the smell until I was inside the city. Inside Bravil, that is. It was a city with apartment-like, rotting-wood houses haphazardly stacked on top of each other. Argonians and Khajiit roamed the streets, and a few Bosmer were seen here and there, most I think were smart enough to sell Moon Sugar and Skooma to the Beast races. I stopped at Silverhome on the Water to hear about the news of late, and how far Leyawiin was from here. It was apparently two days' light riding along the road, which made me happy from here down, the Great Forest slowly became the Black Forest, and it wasn't a place I would feel particularly safe in, if the descriptions I heard were anything to go by. That, and disease ran wild in the semi-marsh area, and I might have had a naturally higher immunity, but I wasn't entirely impervious to illness. I shrugged off my pack inside the inn, owned and kept by an Altmer man. Apparently he had inherited the place from his father. I sat at a table, and stretched my legs, slouching into the chair. I bought an ale, and as I relaxed a little more, a courier walked up to me. "Arya, Hero of Kvatch?" he asked.
I sat up straighter. It had sounded more like a confirmation than a question. "Who's asking?"
"The priest sends his regards…" he trailed.
"Yes. I'm Arya. Sit," I gestured at the chair opposite me. The courier shook his head, and handed me a sealed letter before bidding me a good evening and leaving. I opened the letter, and let my gaze fall on the signature at the bottom: that of Martin Septim, and just below, Jauffre. I skimmed the letter quickly, marveling at how quickly the Blades's couriers had managed to find me. Briefly, the letter detailed that I was needed back at Cloud Ruler Temple. I scowled: I wasn't going to see Leyawiin yet, but I would. The issues of the world would take me across Tamriel, well, maybe only Cyrodiil. They could expect me on my way some time tomorrow. I really did want to see the Archer's Paradox before I left.

Sadly, the most beautiful and deadly of bows were all already paid for, or the strangest enchantments were placed on them, like lighting up the area. Why would any sensible adventurer want that, unless they were a part of a larger research group? I shook my head, passing through the rest of the town quickly. There wasn't much to see if you weren't a Skooma dealer, or addict…. Now that I thought of it, I had heard rumors of the Count, or his son, or both – I had forgotten which – was addicted to the drug. No wonder the place looked like it did. I stood close to Faith once at the Bay Roan Stables, and I checked my coin purse again. I could buy a bay, which would be much faster than Faith, but it would cost me a good deal. I pursed my lips: as much as I loved Faith, she and I wouldn't make journeys together much longer. Not where speed was necessary. I patted her shoulder. "Sorry, lady," I murmured to her, as I turned to stride into the stable building.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a bay was only 1000 gold. The stablehand stood beside a strong, dark bay stallion, and I nodded my thanks as I approached. The horse seemed sensible enough. I moved my gear from Faith to the bay, and mounted my new horse. The paint mare seemed to sigh sadly, then started walking back to Weynon Priory. I trotted out, deciding the road would be the fastest way north. After I entered the Imperial Reserve, that is. There were a great many places still left to find.

I swore impulsively as an undead creature attacked me in Moss Rock Cavern, about four weeks after I left Bravil. I dodged the zombie, charging the necromancer called Raelynn the Gravefinder at the back of a small room of sorts close to the entrance. I swung my katana at her. She dodged, casting a spell, and the Adept with her slashed at my armor with a dagger. I spun, meeting little resistance, but I was still surrounded. I ducked under a haphazard swing by a zombie, and kicked it to my side, swinging my blade the opposite way. I snarled, catching the Adept unawares. Now was my chance: Raelynn was busy muttering a spell as fast as she could, her eyes squeezed shut. I ran up, using a backhand swing to decapitate her. I wrinkled my nose as blood squirted over me, and I wiped my face. I licked my lips, and tasted her blood on them. I sighed, frustrated at myself for doing something so stupid. I wiped my blade, sheathed it and looted whatever was worth taking from the cave, then walked back to the inn. In all, I hadn't done too badly: the cave had been fairly small, though populated with a total of four necromancers and enough undead. They were bad enough in forts, never mind caves. Malene was happy to know that the necromancers were dead, and rewarded me with 95 septims. I excused myself from excited patrons with a round of drinks on me to clean up. I didn't have much daylight hours left, so travel would wait until the morning. I checked on my stallion, who had proved to be a trustworthy if slightly aggressive steed, stroking his head while I wondered what I would name him. I looked up at the sky, as the sun disappeared into the west, and headed back into the tiny inn for my bedroll on the second floor. Before I fell asleep, I marked additional places on my map; five forts, three caves, Hircine's Shrine, and the inn. I stretched out on the bedroll, and slept like the dead.

I was in frozen Bruma little more than two months after I had started my journey. I was grateful that the end was near, but I knew I would only be travelling to further ends of Tamriel once I had spoken with Jauffre and Martin. As I walked my bay past Wildeye Stables, I found myself trying to conjure an image of Martin's face in my mind. All I could really remember was his eyes, those blue eyes that pierced flesh to see the soul beneath. It was a frightening thing, but strangely soothing at the same time. My stallion blew hard, his body tensing. I came back to the present, listening as I rounded the northern gates of Bruma. I shivered, despite the fur-lined cloak I was wearing, and pushed my horse to a trot to warm him up, then later a canter as we entered brush at the base of Cloud Ruler Temple. It was late, and it would probably be early morning by the time we arrived there. I should have spent the night in Bruma.

I barely registered the calls of fellow Blades as we neared the gates. I was almost sleeping on my stallion, and he was no better off than me. I remember being outside the gates, then inside, being slid off my bay by someone with strong, warm hands, then blissful warmth, and my weapons and most of my armor was removed, and the softest bedroll I had ever slept in welcomed me.

I kept my eyes closed as I stretched, sighing deeply. Bedroll, I thought, freezing. I opened my eyes slowly, looking up at a ceiling. I frowned before I remembered bits of the night before, and slowly sat up. I was wearing a slightly-too-big shirt with my leather greaves. I found the rest of my things in a neat pile at the foot of my bedroll. I got dressed in my leather, and strapped on my blade as I walked into the main hall. I spotted what looked like a pot of stew, and took a bowl for myself. I sat down at one of the tables, listening to the crackling of the fire. Jauffre and Martin came in a little while after I was done, and the Breton took my hand, smiling before stepping to one side. Martin smiled warmly at me. "It's good to see you again, Arya."
I gave him a half-smile. "And you, Martin. Both of you. I suppose my disappearance was a little concerning…" I trailed off, glancing at Jauffre who shook his head, scowling slightly to himself. Martin followed my glance, and chuckled softly. "Well, you had Jauffre in a tiff when we found out you had disappeared. You are quite difficult to track."
"'A tiff'? I was ready to ride out after you and drag you back!"
"I don't quite travel on the roads so often," I admitted, grinning a little sheepishly. "And I rarely stay in one place for more than a few days. You don't seem concerned about it, though," I nodded at Martin.
Martin shook his head. "I knew you would come back, somehow. Either way, it doesn't matter. Jauffre said he has information on the assassins, but he wouldn't say anything until you arrived."
I raised a brow. Jauffre nodded. "Yes. I received a letter from Baurus not long after you sent yours. You should go back to the Imperial City. Baurus may have learned something more about the assassins, if I read his letter correctly. You'll find him at Luther Broad's Boarding House in the Elven Gardens District of the city," Jauffre finished before I could ask.
I nodded, thinking back to the Redguard I had left behind. "Anything else that we've found out about them, or other Gates opening up?"
"No, nothing else so far. I was hoping you could tell me more about Gates, since you've done the most travelling…" Jauffre said, expectant.
I shook my head. "None that I've seen. But I have a feeling that many will start opening very soon." I didn't mention how much I hated going into them, or how much the idea of more opening and running in to close them scared me. "What do you know of daedra, or portals to other worlds, Martin?"
The priest – Future Emperor, I corrected myself – sighed, a dark cloud crossing over his face. "I know more than I want to about the seductive power of daedric magic." I blinked, and just opened my mouth to ask when he continued. "I haven't always been a priest. In my youth, I followed a different path. Let's just leave it at that." he trailed off, deep in thought.
"Hm," I breathed; I hadn't quite expected something like that to come up from a priest. Jauffre added some other details, mostly about staying discrete, and Martin was silent for the most part, only nodding now and again.

I wanted to stay for another day, and I found Daniéll, and sparred with him for a while. I could hold my own against him much better, remembering what Anglalos had taught me. I still couldn't get past Daniéll's guard, but he also hadn't quite broken through mine completely. Yes, he still beat me, but I was getting better. The blade was really starting to feel like an extension of my arm. I grinned when I took up the bow a few hours before dusk, aiming at the targets. This was something I was good at, something I rarely needed teaching on. I breathed deeply, my eyes on the center of the target. I reached for an arrow in my quiver, drawing my bow as I breathed in again. Lined the arrow up, letting my mind follow the path of the arrow, feel the wind, make adjustments. I let the arrow loose with my breath, and grinned smugly as it landed in the center circle. Not quite the exact middle, but it was where I wanted it. I shot several more arrows, letting each one come faster than the one before. Almost all landed in the innermost circle of the target. Just one went wide with a sudden gust of wind. "You shoot well, Arya." I spun round, looking right at Martin, who was watching me shoot.
I smiled. "Well, practice makes perfect. Being a Bosmer helps, too," I replied, gathering my arrows and putting them back in my quiver, walking closer to Martin. "How are you?" I asked, watching him, taking in his brown hair, his blue eyes, the calm confidence of his stance, but also the wariness of one who has seen much, and is preparing for worse. Martin looked to a side, half-smiling, half-sneering. "My head is still spinning from everything that has happened. I'll need some time to adjust."
I laughed briefly. "I'll bet."
Martin's expression turned serious. "All practitioners of daedric magic are familiar with the almost impenetrable barrier between our world and Oblivion. What the Emperor told you implies that the Amulet is the key to the preservation of that barrier. What I saw at Kvatch... everything I know about daedric magic says that such stable portals are impossible. Yet those gates to Oblivion existed. The old rules no longer apply. Kvatch is only the beginning of what Mehrunes Dagon will do…. I'm sorry, my friend: this still lingers on my mind."
I shook my head, gesturing that we walk to the walkway above the gate. "No, it's alright. These portals bother me as well. I just wish we knew more about the spies already, and that this entire mess was over, and peace was on Tamriel."
Martin chuckled softly, nodding at a Blade to give us some privacy. I remember when I could do that, once, the thought came unbidden. I shook my head quickly to clear my thoughts. "Something on your mind, Arya?"
I glanced up at the Imperial. "No," I lied, quickly amending when I realized Martin was going to be more specific. "Well, at least nothing important. Just wondering about how things are in Valenwood. It's been a few years since I left, and this place –" I waved my hands at Cloud Ruler Temple, though I meant Martin's interactions, slinging my bow over my back, "– reminds me of the place I used to call home."
"Tell me about your home."
I sighed through my nose, leaning my arms on the stone wall while I thought of the best way to describe home, what it had been like, what it now was like. "There is an old, abandoned fort near the center of Valenwood. No-one is really sure how it came to be there, since my kin don't build structures like that, and it had been standing for centuries before. My family took up residence there in order to bring the forest back into it, to let nature lay claim again to what was once hers. It took many years before vines climbed the cold stone, before trees would lean in over the walls and flowers would bloom," I smiled, thinking back to my childhood and the hours Anglalos and I spent climbing the trees, running along their branches and swinging down on the vines. I almost wished it back. Almost, but something held me back, a whispered truth that something great was going to a part of my life now. "It sounds like a beautiful place," Martin commented softly, turning his back to the view of Bruma, leaning against the wall as well.
"It was, it really was," I straightened, deciding I had shared enough of my past. It was gone, something I would never forget, but something I refused to dwell on. "It's getting late, and night is already here. Perhaps we can speak more later."
I refused to meet his gaze, which I could tell was a little disappointed. "Alright, Arya."

I was glad he hadn't asked me to stay.

I finally managed to read the article on the Dark Brotherhood, about the Night Mother and the Black Sacrament. I had carefully avoided the main room when Martin was there, having learned his routine from other Blades, and spent that time hiding in the stables. Daniéll found me there a few minutes after I had made my escape, and finished my article. "So, this is where you're hiding?"
I glanced up, tense. I hadn't really heard him come in. "Well, that depends on what you want the answer to that question to be, and what you'll do with that knowledge…."
Daniéll grinned, stepping closer. I suddenly realized why I hadn't heard him: he wasn't wearing armor, just warm cotton and fleece, with a cloak. He sat down beside me on the hay, glaring at the article I quickly rolled up. "You really know how to disappear," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him.
I sighed, half-grinning. "It's a gift, you know. I've seen some interesting things since, and dealt with some interesting people." I shook my head, thinking of Glarthir.
"Really?" Daniéll asked, turning his head to look at me incredulously. "Tell me about them, if you will."
"Of course!" I grinned mischievously, recalling my journey and the people and places, even mentioning Anglalos and his methods of teaching the blade. Daniéll asked me a lot of questions then, most of which I couldn't answer, saying only that I'd have to ask Anglalos whenever I saw him again. We spoke for a while longer, and Daniéll told me about his concerns for Cloud Ruler Temple, should a Gate open in front of it. I nodded, agreeing silently. I didn't want to know what would happen if one opened here… I don't think it would end particularly well. It was only when both of us couldn't quite stifle yawns and the occasional shiver when we went back inside. I lay awake for a while longer, thinking of the Dark Brotherhood. Would I ever be able to kill like that?

I trained in the early morning with Daniéll again, and finally plucked the will to face Martin after last night. Conversation was light, and almost small talk, but it was incredibly awkward, and as soon as the opportune moment came, we excused ourselves hastily and dealt with separate things. I headed to the smith, had him check my things and teach me more about repairing weapons and armor in the field. I took in the information carefully, remembering every detail, and was pleasantly surprised when he let me practice on the Blades armor he was repairing. It wasn't leather, but I supposed the principle was the same. I headed to the main room, deciding to stay and say my farewells this time, and found Martin and Jauffre discussing things quietly, although Martin seemed to disagree with something Jauffre was saying. I bade them both farewell, insisting in leaving for Bruma this afternoon despite Martin's protests. I still wanted a day to see the city, after all, and I wouldn't get it if I left in the morning. I found Daniéll on the ramparts, and we said our goodbyes as he called for the gates to open. I took my stallion and rode out, happy to be on the move again. I was excited to be on the hunt again, to chase down my prey. I had a purpose, and I was ready for it.

I spent the night at the Tap and Tack again, and was pleasantly surprised to find my fence, Ongar the World-Weary, there as well. My mood was soured a bit though, when I realized how tough he was at bargaining. I sold all my ill-acquired goods, and left with little more than two-hundred gold. A proper cheat, for all my effort! Oh well, I could explore further in the morning. For now, my hired bed called.

I had decided before midday that Bruma wasn't quite so interesting, having visited most of the stores and both guildhalls, and finding nothing worthwhile, except for a few drunk or hung-over Nords. I set out for the Imperial City, and I could tell my stallion was eager to be gone as well. He still needs a name, I thought vaguely.

A week later on the Silver Road, just as the trees cleared on a clear, sunny day, I saw the tip of the White-Gold tower. It was breath-taking, seeing the way the sun reflected off the stone was something to see. I pushed my stallion on, cantering down. I passed Sercen, and further west an abandoned ghost village, Aleswell. Another three weeks later saw me riding into the Chestnut Handy Stables, briefly asking a stable hand exactly where Luther Broad's Boarding House was. I thanked him, and headed into the city, going north to the Elven Gardens District. After the main cross road, and first door on the left… I grinned when I saw the sign, and went inside. I closed the door behind me and paused for a moment, scanning the over-full room for the Redguard. I almost missed Baurus sitting at the bar, fiddling with a still-full tankard. I hadn't recognized him in civilian clothes. I wound my way through the crowd, sitting down next to Baurus. I ordered a tankard of ale. I sighed as I looked into the depths of the golden liquid: I had never been one for ale, but since I had started life as a thief, wine had been too expensive, and now I found I preferred this. "Arya, listen," Baurus said suddenly, his head just turned to me. "I'm going to get up in a minute, and there's a guy in the corner – dark hair, reading some book and looking this way now and again – who will follow me. You follow him."
I dipped my head briefly. "Of course." Proper greetings could wait. I sipped the ale, listening carefully in the crowded common room. When the noise died down a little more, I could hear a page turn, then turn back. He was only pretending to read. I felt a wicked grin spread across my face: I was on the hunt again, and I couldn't wait to catch my prey.