Author's notes: Oblivion and all its characters, places, events, etcetera are property of Bethesda Softworks. Special thanks to my beta, Pheonicia, who cleans up my grammar errors and typos.

--A--

Chapter Forty-Nine

--A--

Silence filled Jauffre's office as he, Martin and I scowled – though not at each other. In fact, to an outside observer it probably looks like we're making a genuine effort not to scowl at each other. Caro, standing to my left, shifted uncomfortably, as Jauffre's eyes shifted back and forth again, reading the missive on his desk over Martin's shoulder. Of all of us, Martin was the only one sitting down, ensconced behind Jauffre's desk with Jauffre hovering at his shoulder. Caro stood almost to attention, but I leaned comfortably on the back of one of the chair facing the desk.

Never was much for rigid decorum, and as Martin's never discouraged this, I choose to assume he doesn't care.

Delivered by messenger hawk from Bruma, the tidings were ill, though unsurprising. The newest Gate looming near the city blazed brightly, easily visible form Cloud Ruler Temple's lofty vantage point, hence Captain Burd's call for help. Sent in care of Jauffre, but requesting me.

"I've got a better idea," Jauffre inserted into the thick silence, the wake of an aloud reading of the missive. "We'll send Ailirah, as Burd requests. But you," he pointed a gnarled finger at me, "will take a team of our people with you – train them as well as Burd's men. I suspect we may need more than one person experienced with these Gates before the end." Jauffre concluded.

Brilliant plan – and I'm not feeling the slightest bit sarcastic. It'll take a lot of pressure off me, though no pressure of conscience. I've regretted promising to keep away from the Gates without good reason ever since I made it. "And you shouldn't send anyone by themselves to begin with. Teams of two work well enough." I put in. I've done it alone before – better to work as part of a team. You know, if Martin fiddles with that quill too much more it's going to…snap. What'd I say?

"What do you think, your highness?" Jauffre asked, looking over at Martin.

"I suppose we shall do what we must," Martin responded, his tone carefully measured. "Though, I notice no one's asked this expedition's guide how she feels about the matter," he glanced up at me, as if he half wanted me to protest my going, to cite my promise and say something about honorably upholding my word.

But, I have to admit, as resigned as he looks he knows I won't do it. I won't back down from responsibility, and Burd did ask for me. What can I do? Tell him I was scared, or it was an uncomfortable thing? It's not like I plan to do three or four, or even two in a row. I've learned my lesson about that.

I can't say I'm not uncomfortable doing it, but I won't back down. It's not my style. "Like you said, we'll do what we must. It'll be more effective if I go, but of course I'll defer, with regards to my promise if you insist." I forced my expression blank, wondering if he was going to be silly about this and try to protect me.

My concern proved needless. Martin shook his head as if dismissing this, as if he knew making me stay put would chafe. I couldn't stop a soft breath of relief – I don't need protection. A shoulder to lean on? Sometimes. Someone to patch me up if I get hurt? Sure. But protection – no, I can do that for myself. I'm glad he sees that…squishing a surge of fond-feeling for Martin, I forced my attention to focus where it needs to be. "Send a team – six of your best. Three teams of two." Martin's words hit the air like stone shitting a pond, though he hadn't spoken very loudly.

"I'm hoping that includes Caro," I put in.

"We can do that," Jauffre answered. "I'll have the team prepare."

"Tell them to bring canteens, if they can't cast ice spells," I warned. "It gets pretty hot in there."

Jauffre waved – I might have told him this before, I don't remember – leaving the door ajar behind him.

Looking back at Martin I found him studying me. "I don't like it," he announced without preamble.

I'm glad he's willing to tell me so. "Neither do I, to tell you the truth. But," I shrugged, "what else can I do?" With regards to my conscience, of course.

Shaking his head, Martin ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. "Good question. I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you yet." Martin got to his feet, leaning heavily on the desk. "Please be careful. For you, there will be permanent damage every time you do this."

"I understand. I'll be very careful." Shifting slightly, I scuffed the ground with the toe of my boot. "Thanks."

"For sending you into danger?" Martin asked sardonically.

"For trusting me to be able to deal with it." I corrected. For not trying to insulate me against the world. I'd call him sweet…except the word does not now, nor has it ever really fit him.

"Yes," Martin mused. "I suppose that would matter a great deal. It's a lesson your brothers could stand to learn, is it not?" I could tell by the way he worded the sentence, so carefully, he was really saying 'your bothers are assholes, what the hell's their problem?'. Though probably, he wouldn't say it so colorfully.

"They're just a little over-protective. It didn't used to be so bad – I let a habit become a bad habit and didn't realize it," I shrugged. It's true, I might have felt a little resentful from time to time before getting myself involved with the Blades, but it's not until that point I earnestly did anything about it. You don't rebel too hard against all you know.

"Why don't they trust you?" Martin finally asked, when it became obvious he was going to have to ask me, before I discussed the issue.

I walked over to the door and nudged it closed. "It's more that they don't trust the rest of the world. And yes, there is a difference between fighting humans and fighting monsters, at least according to them. My parents are a little more moderate about this." I responded with a shrug.

"I'm curious."

I thoughtfully chewed a fingernail – most people leave it at that and don't ask anymore about it. Considering for moment I shrugged, not sure what if anything to read into the curiosity, but deciding I'd better satisfy it in this case. How many times have I asked personal questions and gotten answers? "Well, you shared. There's a bit of an age gap between my brothers and I – I was kind of a surprise," we both shared a grin. So was Martin, though to quite in the same way, I'm sure. "When I was six, we were out playing. I'd tagged along, with my brothers and a couple of their friends. They didn't really want me there – you know how boys can be about their little sisters…or can imagine, I'm sure." I appended, remembering Martin was raised as an only child. "We were up on these ruins outside Leyawiin and got into an argument. I wanted to be a part of their adventures, their world. Rogerik got angry. He gave me a push and told me to get lost, turned and stomped off, expecting me to just do it."

I looked away from Martin's darkening expression. Kids don't know any better. "What can I say? We were kids, I was stubborn…not like I am now, though." With a grin Martin didn't return, I started leaning on the chair again. "I tried to follow, yelling at him. I was angry, and tired of being treated like a pest, like I was no good at anything. Markos said something, agreeing with Roge that I ought to get lost. They didn't need me. They didn't want me. Hurtful things – the kind that sink deep when you're just six. Roge pushed me again, but this time I tripped." With a shrug I started to pace. I dislike telling the story, but the truth is, I sometimes think it accounts for some of my quirks in personality.

"I didn't just fall on my backside this time. I stumbled right over the steep edge of the ruin. They tell me I must have hit my head, I don't remember. I woke up two weeks later in the care of the healers of Dibella's chapel. That was when they got paranoid, convinced that the world was going to hurt me…because they, my own family, had. It wasn't so bad at first, we became really tight knit – I got what I wanted, too. To be included. They got silly when I got old enough to date. I don't know if that's because they don't trust my judgment in character…" Or if they just wanted to make sure I got the right guy the first time around or if they're just jealous of being my keepers…or maybe they learned to not want to share. I've got a lot of theories, but never asked.

"It explains a lot," Martin said, his tone actually bemused. Looking up I found him giving me one of those very benign-sympathetic looks.

I shook my head. "Yeah well. Now you know why my brain is scrambled. I love them to death," I added defensively. "I'm just…tired. And…now I'm just being pathetic." I concluded with a sigh.

"Not pathetic. Not hardly," Martin said, though in my current frame of mind, I'm inclined to suspect he's humoring me.

"Do they teach your that at clerics school – how to get people to spill their guts?" I asked, trying to sound cocky, and managing it only half-way.

"Among other things," Martin responded.

"So now you know the sordid tale." And oddly enough, I don't mind him knowing. I prefer his reaction to others – some people don't know what say or do, and get all worked up. It's in the past, my past – there's nothing they can do except accept that's the way thing sure. I have.

"Strange run the unseen workings...the good and the bad." Martin announced, though more to himself in deep contemplation, than as part of our conversation. It sounds like something a priest would say, in fact, I'm reasonably sure I've heard it before. This made me look up – last I heard he was having some serious issues with the Nine, issues I'm not trained to help with. Still…at least he sounds hopeful, I hate to use the term 'better'.

"Philosophically one might argue we have to have bad things happen, so we can appreciate the good ones." I declared, more to keep the conversation alive than because it's a deep thought.

"Who said that?" Martin asked.

"My brother Brutus." I answered.

"Now which one is he?" I don't think I've ever declared the order of age for my brothers.

"Brutus is the eldest. Then it's Julius, Markos, Roge and me." Brutus and Jules are actually only ten months apart – parents were newlyweds, you know. "You know…it might be beneficial to have them here, when the enemy tries to raze Bruma. I know my brothers – they could make the Dremora quake in their boots. If you think I'm tough, I learned it from somewhere." And my brothers are big enough to use that toughness to great effect.

"I'll pass that along to Jauffre – I suspect we'll need all the help we can get." Martin cocked his head. "You don't feel bad, volunteering them like that?"

"Are you kidding? They'd kick my ass for not inviting them to the party…though, I doubt if I said it, they'd believe me." I added in irritation. "We'd better ask Jauffre or someone else to ask the Guild to get involved. Still – the more manpower the better, I say," I announced.

"You'd better go get ready." Martin said abruptly.

I raised my hand, grinning as the spell in my ring shifted, my armor materializing, the weight settling familiarly over my shoulders. Come to think of it, this coat of mail is pretty damaged. It's still in working order, but it's beginning to show the wear. "I'm always ready," I announced cockily.

There was, I realized, a certain vaguely wicked quality to the grins we both wore, as if we both read things into the statements. Grinning I waved at him, a gesture he returned. At least I'm not blushing…

Though I still wonder…I'll bet he's a good kisser, too…not that I know anything about that thanks to my erstwhile thick-as-boxes-of-rocks brothers.

This is not the time to think about this sort of thing. I'm preparing to enter Oblivion again. I need my wits about me.

--A--

The bodies of scamps and clannfear lay scattered about, showing Burd and his men had kept them pushed back. "You brought quite a team," Burd noted as my six Blades and I arrived at the Gate – I think he said it more to keep himself from gaping.

"Yes. We need as many people as possible trained to do this," I answered, eyeing the Gate like I would eye a Dremora I'm ready to engage. Even twenty feet back I felt like I was breathing in small amounts of pepper, which stung my sinuses and the back of my throat. My eyes, too, felt a little warm, and I'm sure they're glittering ruby-red. However, I also feel unaccountably…strong. I don't know much about Dremora, but I'd say I begin to feel…Dremora-ish, I suppose. Beginning to seethe, ready for a fight, cold nipping sharply at my exposed skin. I know the Gates can't change me into a Dremora…but if the attitude fits.

Burd shifted, so I looked over at him. "I'd like to address your men prior to entering the Gate, if I may. Just a basic outline of the plan." Once Burd nodded, I looked over at his men. They showed varying signs of nervousness, though the augmentation by a half-dozen Blades looked like it had their moral up. "Normally I wouldn't recommend such a large group, but as this is a training mission I don't see we have much of a choice." I began, then ran down what to expect. "When we get to the top of the Spire, remember don't touch the Sigil Stone unless I tell you to. We don't want anyone getting left behind. Dremora eat human flesh – and I'm not sure they care whether dinner's still kicking or not."

"Well? Did you hear her or not?" Burd snapped when I got a mumbled response. With his voice acting like a whip, the men immediately and audibly answered. I honestly think, right now, the Gate has more of their attention than I do. "Good. Let's go," he addressed me.

I waved my hand and Frostreaver appeared in it. "Let's go," I repeated back, feeling strange, but otherwise confident. Larger numbers can do that.

Walking through the Gate into the arms of Oblivion was like slipping into an overly hot bath. While the others complained for a moment, or gave off exclamations of surprise at the hostile environment, I found it didn't bother me as much as it had previously. I still felt as though I was inhaling something spicier than air, but the heat didn't seem to swelter so badly. However, I'm forewarned – I may not feel the immediate affects as strongly, but the lasting effects I undoubtedly will.

"You feeling okay?" Caro asked quietly, under the soft babble as I gave the men a moment to take in their surroundings. Better they gape here where it's relatively safe than when I need them paying attention. I wonder where all the scamps and clannfear are? Usually there're small packs or swarms running about, scavenging for food or causing other mischief.

"Yeah, I feel okay," I answered calmly, my resolution to do what needed doing and get it over with firmly in place, for now repressing any unusual surges of emotion. I doubt this kind of forced-focus will last, but best enjoy it while I can.

"You look awful." Caro chuckled. "Like you're about to take the jump off Dive Rock."

I smirked at Caro. "I'm sure I'll look worse before this is over. Still, if I get bitchy, feel free to let me know."

"I will. Damn, I'm starting to feel sorry for the Dremora," Caro shook her head.

"It won't last." I responded with a grin. "Come on." Clapping her on the shoulder I looked over at Burd. "Nice place, isn't it?" I asked loudly, to get his attention.

Burd left off glaring at his surroundings, disinclined to joke about them as Caro and I did. I suppose since we've both seen it before, there's less shock value to it. "That's where we're heading?" he pointed with his sword towards one of the towers.

I eyed it, then shook my head, scanning the cluster of black spires. "No, the one with the green light. Over there," Burd's men clustered in closer, as did the Blades as I indicated our destination. "All right, you'll be doing this in twos. Captain, if you'd stick with me," dividing the Blades and guardsman – I actually coupled them, one of Burd's men, one of the Blades both to make it easier for me to keep count at a quick glance and to make sure no one got left behind later, if we didn't make a clean exit.

We started forward, boots raising small puffs of dust as we walked.

Still no clannfear, nor any sign of scamps. They're waiting for us. This Gate wasn't an accident. It's an invitation. Eyeing the tower I smiled – does he know his Razor is missing? Did he think I'd be dumb enough to bring it with me? I suppose some evidence might make him think so.

But no. Not this time. It's safe in my footlocker of personal effects, back in Cloud Ruler Temple. Feeling smug and slightly superior that I caught myself before making the mistake of bringing the Razor back into its home plane, I began to wonder what the next step in opening a door to Paradise required.

I hope Mehrunes Dagon is sweating sling-stones, trying to figure out what our sneaky plans are. It'll be a taste of his own medicine.

--A--