Title: Mourner's Dawn

Author: Kytten

Pairing: Lucien Lachance/OMC

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Author's Note: Okay. I lied. To all those I said there would only be fifty chapters to? I was wrong. Fifty was just too huge. It's been split up into two chapters, which means there is now an equally long chapter 51. 50 and 51 are both big, but no longer super!huge.

So yeah. The 51st chapter is the last chapter. I am finished with this and starting a new project as we speak... read... communicate.


That look was back in Lucien's eyes as Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, freshly bleached hair scraping at his jaw. Vaguely irritated in realizing he'd forgotten to shave, and that the stubble would undoubtedly be his usual fire shade of red, Sam began to scratch.

Lucien frowned at him over his shoulder, pausing in the search of whatever it was he was looking for.

"Sam, I loathe that noise. Go shave."

Sam shrugged and padded over to the basin, rather suspected that Lucien loathed any noise at the moment, though not sure why.

It's possible, you know, he loves you.

Which made absolutely no sense in the slightest, so Sam simply pushed the thought away and searched for the soap.

He doesn't want to hurt you, you idiot.

Sam blinked.

Oh.

Now that he'd thought about it, that look was rather obvious.


Sam tried not to concentrate on the way his entire head throbbed as he stared rather blankly at the woman he assumed to be Lucien's sister. The ride to the Skingrad sanctuary had been aching long and rather uneventful, ignoring the woman they'd seen at the side of the road, continually falling in the dust as she spewed curses at the gods. Something about carrots… or was is calipers?

"Listener," Lucien said rather pointedly, startling him from his musings.

"What?" Sam looked up, not bothering to pretend at being clever when the bridge of his nose had suddenly gained a pulse.

A rather frustrated series of gestures that followed, abbreviated so that Sabine couldn't see.

"You interrupted Lucien's moment," Vicente laughed, leaning against the wall, May tucked rather neatly under his arm. She was grinning as she ignored the lot of them, furtively slipping marbles into his pockets.

"Oh, right." Sam grinned brightly at the woman. "I appoint you as Speaker and mother of this guild hall as I cannot be expected to keep Lucien in line by myself."

Sabine laughed, eyes sparkling.

"Wherever did you find this one, Luc?" she asked. "I like him."

Lucien grit his teeth and glared off at the wall, but Sam could see the quiver of a smile hidden in the corner of his lips.

"May, Vicente," Sam said, turning to face the two of them. "You both need to get your collective ass back to Cheydinhal."

May laughed and stuck out her tongue.

"And what if I say no?"

Sam shrugged, smirking.

"Well, I simply thought you could play Speaker there for us. You've not advanced, but you're very pretty. And as Vicente looks too dead, the two of you together should be able to work something out."

Vicente smiled, a slow curling of his mouth until he looked absolutely wicked.

"Wonderful. We accept."

"We?" May pouted. "I don't get a say?"

"Well, I should think myself able to speak for you as my wife."

May blinked at him for a moment, before it really set in and ecstatic, she launched herself into his arms.

"This is all so very touching, Sam," Lucien whispered, hot breath whispering over the too-sensitive tip of his ear, "but we've still two Speakers to sever and two more to appoint."


Sam launched himself onto the bed within seconds of entering their room in the Two Sisters Lodge, curling up and under the blankets so that only his eyes showed.

Lucien looked distracted and rather upset, though Sam wasn't exactly sure why. With the sweetest smile he could manage, Sam lifted up the edge of the blanket, inviting Lucien in and looking thoroughly mischievous in doing so.

But Lucien only shook his head and set down his pack.

"Not tonight, Sam. I've other matters to attend to before we leave."

Sam sighed, peeking from his pile of bedding.

"You're leaving?"

He nodded with a flicker of what could have been a smile, before tossing his pack over by the bed.

"I should be back by morning. Take care of that for me."

"Yes, sir!" Sam saluted in an impersonation of Hieronymus that was lost amongst the million voices that made up his own.

A moment later he was nothing more than a bundle beneath the covers. Lucien watched the little Bosmer fold himself up under the sheets with a pained smile before leaving the room.

He was way over his head here.


Sam wished his head would stop throbbing. Lucien had healed his nose so the swelling had gone down, but there was still the lingering ache that accompanied any breakage.


"Hold very still," Lucien murmured, stroking two fingers down the bridge of Sam's nose, numbing it.

"Could I have a drink first?" he asked, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

But Lucien shook his head, looking strangely ill.

"Best to save it for after. This is really going to hurt."


Sam wished he knew the spell Lucien had used to numb him. It made him feel ghostlike, but anything was better than a head full of rocks.


"Lucien." Sam was trying very hard to keep from slurring, but he'd finished an entire bottle by himself and such things eluded him at this point.

"Hush, Sam. You're drunk." But Lucien had been drinking too and by the lingering drawl to his words, Sam suspected the condition was shared.

"So're you." It almost sounded intelligent. "But I 'ave somethin' t' say."

"Oh? And what's that then?" Lucien purred, leaning in for a kiss.

Sam rocked back, trying to gather up his thoughts and failing that, taking another drink instead.

"I was awake the whole time. But I love you."


Sam also wished he wasn't such a delirious idiot when he drank, as he rather suspected his confession had startled Lucien off. Which made no sense in the scheme of things… unless Lucien hadn't meant it when he told him the same. Or in realizing his feelings were returned, he discovered he hadn't actually felt it in the first place… or else he'd fallen out of love between then and now... which knowing Lucien was entirely possible.

Sighing to himself, Sam closed his eyes and forced the thoughts off. Hopefully, the man would be back by morning. This bed was damn cold.


"But, sir. He's dead."

Ocato stared at the guard blankly.

"Pardon?"

"He's dead, sir. Are you sure you're feeling well?"

Ocato sighed, resisting the urge to run his fingers through his hair. He knew Sam was alive. He also knew he'd found some way to break through Evangeline's barrier. It should have been impossible, but Sam was gone and even the woman herself was finally admitting the inability to sense him in the tower.

This whole thing was utterly ridiculous, but there really wasn't anything he could do. Sam was gone and Cyrodill believed him dead. He'd won. They were without a champion once more and everything had fallen back onto the High Chancellor's shoulders.

"Ocato, leave it," Evangeline said, stepping out into the hall. "Come to bed."

Glancing back at her, he struggled with his thoughts for a moment before nodding to the guard and turning back to his room.

"This whole situation makes me uncomfortable," he announced, sitting down at his desk. "Half my guards think I'm mad, the Elder Council's turning against me and now Sam's buggered off to the Nine only know where…"

Evangeline shrugged, cutting him off before he could continue his rant.

"He's made his choice. Leave him be."

"Made his choice?" Ocato looked up, shocked. "He's going to get himself killed. And all for that wretched son of a—"

"Ocato," she laughed, shaking her head. "He's in love."

"He's an idiot. He's the Champion of Cyrodil. He's the man Martin left in charge. But I refuse to believe he's truly in love with that fetcher."

Evangeline shrugged again and checked the lock on the door.

"There are a good many people who would say the same of me."

Smiling, Ocato leaned back.

"You may be many things, Evangeline. But you're no champion."

That earned him a glare and a slap in the shoulder. Bad move, as shortly after he'd caught her and pulled her into his lap.

"Actually," he purred, nuzzling into her neck. "I seem to remember people mentioning what a brilliant match we made."

"Only because calling the High Chancellor a dirty fetcher to his face is considered bad form."

"Karo does."

"Karo has children older than you. She's entitled."

Ocato laughed and pulled her closer.

"I don't like it though. Lachance killed him."

"Accidentally. And it all turned out well in the end."

"That link of theirs would be easily separated."

"You've an odd idea of easy. It'd take years."

"And it's exactly what Sam came here for in the first place."

"I think he was only scared."

"I'd be frightened too if I'd managed to bind myself to a murderer."

"That man loves him. Call it woman's intuition."

Ocato snorted.

"Woman's intuition, my ass."

"He got through Sam's fire. The same fire that melted the shield you threw around him, burnt the guards from twenty feet away and turned a good bit of the stone in the entry way to molten rock. And he passed through it with barely a burn."

"The bond explains that well enough."

Evangeline smiled, running her fingers through his hair.

"Yes, but not why he leapt through in the first place."