Hullo, everybody! I couldn't do last night, but I made it this morning! Please R&R and I hope you enjoy! -LR

"Don't pull anything like that, ever again," Shazaa hissed. He jerked my arm again, forcing me to look into his eyes. "Remember why we are here, Rontu. It is not as the mother of his child. You are here as an agent of the Magistrate. It's time you act like it."

With that, he let me go, storming out of our rooms.

I dropped down onto a bench by the balcony and stared at my fingertips, pressing them together to mimic the touch of his own.

Marrick's.

I knew we would speak again.

Truthfully, we'd have to.

Everything I did when I went to see Marrick was all wrong. I didn't remain on the subject of the kingsmoot. I wasn't removed from my personal feelings, as I'd planned to be.

All I knew was that he missed me so much, it overwhelmed me and threw off everything I had planned to say and do, to the point of jeopardizing Shazaa's own mission. I wasn't even supposed to leave our wing of the castle, let alone visit a maximum security prisoner.

Elisif didn't think it "natural" or "proper" for an Ambassador's whore to flounce around the palace where she might be seen by the court. So, while Shazaa went to dine with the other largefolk of Tamriel, I'd taken the opportunity to find Marrick on my own. I was very careful to not be seen, slipping to the small, nondescript outhouse beyond the courtyard that housed the stairway to his cell.

It was hardly my own choice.

I had to see him.

From the moment Jarsha spoke of what had befallen Marrick, it took everything in me not to mount up immediately. I set my house in order, Shazaa made some preparations with the Alik'r and the guard of Solitude and then, we set off. It was when I realized that I'd be left to my own devices while Shazaa rubbed elbows with the other international nobles, come to witness such a historical trial that I decided, quite abruptly, that I would visit Marrick.

I returned to the castle's southern wing, shifting carefully and silently through the halls, willing thoughts of Marrick out of my mind so I could focus on not being caught. I made it to the private bed chambers of the southern wing unnoticed and, cat-quiet, I let myself in.

Shazaa was waiting for me. And, he was furious.

I knew he was right, about my turning into a hindrance. If I didn't get my own feelings in order, everything we'd worked for would come unraveled.

"This is the apex of our plans, Rontu," he said firmly. "We are in the palace of our foes. Every step now needs to be calculated carefully- nothing spur of the moment." I bit down into my lower lip. "What you did last night was uncalled for and very dangerous. You do realize yours wouldn't have been the only life at stake, if you were caught?"

"Oge`," I answered hoarsely.

"La," he grunted. "There's Jhalis, Alimah, Dirar and Malik just downstairs, as our Alik'r escort. And, there's me. And, even still, there is Marrick. What do you think will happen to the lot of us if you don't follow orders?" he snarls. "This is why I was loathe to bring you in the first place!"

"Oge'," I whisper again. "I'm sorry."

"Not only that," he fumed, "But you gave him the agreement! That's the treachery of almost all of Tamriel, against the High Queen of Skyrim, Rontu! What if they search his cell these next few days? What if it proves too much for him and he cracks? You shouldn't have given that to him so prematurely; it could cost us the entire objective!"

"Shazaa, I'm sorry, I just-"

"Nevermind." He sighs heavily. "Did you at least make sure to stay hidden?"

I know that there is nothing else I can say that he will want to hear. I nod my answer.

We say nothing to each other about it, and he doesn't tell our Alik'r friends of what I've done, which is far more than I could have ever hoped for.

Sitting up that night, unable to sleep, my one fear remains how it would be to see him tomorrow, before the world and before Elisif and even still, before me.

The next day, we meet in the great hall, to view the Dragonborn like a circus animal, a bit in his mouth.

I made eye-contact with Marrick only once. He kept his face an unreadable mask, but nothing could disguise he sheer fury in those night-dark eyes. I knew his signs. I knew he must have realized that I lied about being the Ambassador of Taneth. That I was really this consort of his.

As the crowd settled, he bored a hole into me, and it took everything in me not to return his gaze.

This is what I'd been trying to avoid.

I'd wanted to let Marrick know early on that I was at the castle, fearing that it would do no good to take him by surprise and all of the sudden appearing at the trial on the arm of one of its spectators.

"Ladies and gentlemen," calls out the steward. "The form you see before you is no true man. He is, Dragonborn- a man born of a dragon's own soul. The bit in his mouth prevents him from Shouting in transit from his cell, to the court. We remove it now, in lieu of this trial."

Upon having it removed, Marrick hocks and spits on the ground before him and I almost can't help my grin.

"Let's get on with it, then."

"Very well. The court resumes its original inquiry in the case of whether Marrick Stray-King is the Dragonborn of the endtimes. Marrick Stray-King, do you rescind this claim?"

"Torrygson," Marrick amends. "Marrick Torrygson. And, I wholeheartedly do not."

I notice Elisif shift slightly in her seat; her face betrays its feigned calm with the briefest twitch of her brow.

"May the record show that Marrick Stray-King's claim still stands," mutters the stewart. "And that no official documentation has been brought forth to prove the allegations made of his sire's identity."

Elisif's smug smile is faint, but there.

It's going to be a long day.

"The court recognized the affirmation of Brother Arngeir, of the Greybeards of High Hrothgar, that Marrick is Dragonborn." The steward flicks his tongue out over his lips. "All that's left now, is to seem him Shout."

The silence in the room is almost alive.

My heart is pumping in my chest. Which Shout would he choose? This got me thinking about why have had never resorted to his ability as Dragonborn to avoid Elisif and her court altogether. Why didn't he kill her, or her guards and just escape? Realization suddenly strikes me. Unless-

I look to Marrick, standing tall and sure, his jaw relaxed and shoulders thrown back.

He's held off Shouting this long because he wants to beat Elisif at her own game.

He doesn't want to escape her court; he wanted to be proven right by it.

"Oh, Marrick," I whisper, so quietly I can barely hear it. "Divines guide you."

He draws in a breath, broad shoulders lifting as he does, and he shuts his eyes.

"FEIM!" he bellows, "ZII! GRON!"

My heart jolts.

But that would mean-

Immediately, Marrick fades from sight, his own grin the last thing to be seen as his shackles clatter to the floor. The crowd, of smallfolk and largefolk alike lurches to their feet, jostling and gasping and crying out.

"He's disappeared!"

"What of his binds! What of his shackles!"

"By the grace of Akatosh!"

"WHERE IS HE!" hollers Elisif, enraged, as she rises from her throne, striding towards her stewart. The court falls silent against the power of her voice. "WHERE HAS HE GONE!"

"Fade," comes Marrick's voice.

Every eye in the room turns to find him in Elisif's quitted throne, his leg thrown over its left arm. The entire court is too stunned to say or do a thing, all open-mouthed gaping and awe.

"Spirit. Bind." He bobs his elevated foot. "These are the words which make up the Shout known as Become Ethereal. Now," he says, sitting upright, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, "I want to make it perfectly clear that not an all-damned thing has been preventing me from doing what I just did."

He jerks his chin towards his chains.

"I can escape whenever I choose. 'Choose' being the operative word. All that being said, two things should now be very clear to you: I am the Dragonborn," he announces. There is no negation, from anyone, so he pushes on. "I am not innocent of the charges made against me. But, I am ready to atone for them, as Dragonborn of this age. If I wasn't, I'd be clear of this place, living out the last of my days in a kinder country. But, I'm not. I'm here. And, I leave it to you, the people of Skyrim, to determine whether my past transgression will be forgiven so that I can face Alduin and any other who may pose a threat to you."

With that, he rises from the throne.

He strides past Elisif, his footfalls echoing through the hall. He picks up his shackles between his fingertips. He walks past his guards, down the hall and he disappears in the direction of his cell.

The awed silence and inaction continues long after he's gone.

Several hours after court, I make my way down the stone steps away from Marrick's cell, Shazaa at my side. The Blue Palace is cold all over, which is the first thing I noticed when we first arrived here.

We came in the black of night, escorted by the Tanethian Ambassador's personal entourage and an Imperial honor guard. We were nine in total. Shazaa and I rode into Solitude on black destriers, side by side, with four Alik'r warriors- friends- at our backs and three Imperial guards leading the way.

I remember the strong sense of anticipation I felt, as horse hooves thundered up the side of the mountain, drawing us nearer to the cliff city. I had that same feeling now, as I walked down the staircase, spiralling ever downwards, as if into hell itself.

It was evening after I'd spoken to him in that vile, black pit, and Shazaa had finally coerced the queen into letting him see the fabled Dragonborn prisoner, up close. He took me with him, sending away the accompanying guard- the young, unsuspecting boy who had been guarding Marrick the night I made my visit.

The guard unlocks and opens the door for us, leaving us with a candle to light the sconces surrounding the cell.

At its back wall cot sits the Dragonborn, elbows braced against his knees, his hands folded together. He's been waiting for us. Or at least for me. His eyes shift from me to Shazaa and back pointedly, and I feel my blood heat.

This is not going to be pretty.

I open my mouth to introduce the two men, but Marrick has plans of his own.

"Who is he?" he says quietly, eyes burning. "Who is this man to you, Rontu."

But, he already knows; I can tell he does. I can't bring myself to answer him.

"My name is Shazaa Beni Ibn Rahaim. Son of the Magistrate of Taneth, as well as the city's acting Ambassador."

Marrick does not look at him.

His dark eyes seem like pools of tar, and I'm stuck in them as they take me in. His jaw tightens and the muscles in his neck tense.

"That true?" he asks, brows raised; he must know I'm not going to answer that. "So that whore he's supposedly come here with. That's you?"

I swallow hard, "Marrick-"

"Leave."

My eyes narrow sharply.

"Marrick, we're here to hel-"

But, then I realize, he isn't talking to me. The ink-black gaze is fixed on Shazaa.

"I want to speak to the mother of my child," he tells him. "Leave."

We form a triangle of sorts: Marrick staring at Shazaa, Shazaa staring at me, and me staring at Marrick.

"Do as he says," I say hoarsely, with a nod.

"Rontu, this is not how I planned this meeting," he hisses.

I shut my eyes and clench my fists at my side.

"Do as he says!"

When the door shuts, Marrick's attack is immediate.

"Why did you come here?"

I shrug, my mind scrambling.

"I wanted to help you get your best chance," I say. "You're Skyrim's only hope for-"

"You're lying," he says coolly, night-dark eyes seeing right through my everything. "Rontu, why are you here? Why did you come?"

My teeth sink into my lower lip.

"Shazaa doesn't know you as well as I do, so I thought to act as a-"

"You're lying," he says again, a little less patiently. "Rontu: why did you come here, to me? Why are you here, right now?"

I'm grasping at straws.

"Segen wanted to make sure that you were-"

"Liar," he says. "I'll tell you why, since you seem incapable of admitting it even to yourself."

"Marrick, please-"

He leans in closer, gripping the bars of his cell.

"You're here, because you love me." My hand shoots up to grip my mouth; I turn my back on him, head shaking. "You never stopped loving me. You looked to my memory whenever the mere notion of another man crossed your mind." He paces, hands reaching from bar to bar, like a caged animal. "You're here, because you're mine; you've always been mine, you always will be. You knew it from the day you first saw me standing there at the Orphanage."

"Stop it!"

"You hadn't known my history, my dreams, or even my fucking name, but you knew that much. You knew that you'd spent your whole life searching for something, and all along, it was me." He shakes his head, half-laughing. "I know, Rontu, because I feel it, too." His open palm pounds his chest. "I know it; I've always known it. The only difference is that you shy away from the truth. So, don't be so cruel or so stupid as to string him along, when you know how this will end."

"Shut up!"

"We all know it won't do any good. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow- maybe not until our son is a man grown," he adds, shaking his head. "Sooner or later, we will be together again. And, I know that I fucked up. I know that you need time to think about trusting me ever again. But, don't lie and claim not to love me, not to care. You wouldn't be here, Rontu, if you didn't."

"No." A small smile crosses my face as I shake my head. "Oh, no. No. No, you don't."

"No, I don't what?"

"No, you don't just get to step back in like that; I won't fucking let you!" My blood is boiling in my body, and I realize for the first time in years how angry I am that he left me. "You would have me forget it all. Have it be so easy for me to just open back up and let you in - I will not. Do that. Not to myself."

"Rontu-"

"You broke me. Took everything I had, and more; all of me!"

He snorts dismissively.

"I took all of you? Really?" Sarcasm drips from his teeth. "Really?" He shakes his head. "Aye, sure you struggled, Rontu struggled. Struggled herself right into her own property, and her own manse, and right-the-fuck back into that Shazaa bastards claws, aye- sure, you fucking struggled. And I was just absolutely fine, right? Didn't face any hardships, right?"

"Don't make light, Marrick," I say warningly, but he charges on.

"What about me?" he snarls. "Hn? What about what you took, Rontu? What about my boy?"

"Oh, gods," I scoff.

"No, if we're gonna do this, let's do it. What about my son, Rontu?" I roll my eyes and fold my arms as he nods violently, "How he spent five years of his life away from me, because of your spite."

"My spite?" I could just laugh. "You stupid fuck; what's become of your memory? It damn sure wasn't my spite that drove us apart."

My heart leaps into my throat when he grabs the bars of his cage and rattles it madly.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK, RONTU! YOU STILL SHOULD HAVE FUCKING TOLD ME ABOUT MY SON!"

His face is fury red, the veins in his neck standing out and his face threatening to crumple. There are tears in his eyes that he is too angry to let fall.

I wet my lips, my eyes cast elsewhere. There is nothing I can say. When he next speaks, his voice is soft as down feathers.

"I can't express to you what I felt," he whispers, "having spent the better part of four days with him and never once realizing he was mine." He laughs briefly. "Can't put into words how much I hate you for it." I swallow hard. Marrick shakes his head, his jaw working. "More than I ever thought I could hate anyone for anything. I tell you, if I didn't care about you so fucking much, I could wring your fucking neck!"

He slams his open palms against the back wall of his cell, heaving his breaths. Then, he starts to shout his anguish wordlessly, slamming against the wall again and again and again. I watch him silently, my heart beating and breaking a million times over, trying to coach my face into stoicism. After a moment, he calms. His open palms press against the wall. His shoulders sag.

"Divines above, Rontu," he says hoarsely. "How could you? How could you?"

That is one question I can answer.

"How could I," I echo, tonelessly. His head turns slightly in my direction. I smile wide and joylessly; I've been waiting for this. "How could I. Well, Marrick, I thought you didn't want me anymore. I knew that what we had was real and beautiful and honestly, more perfect than anything I'd ever dreamed I could be a part of."

I shrug, a little helpless gesture and give a short, mirthless laugh.

"How could I. I knew you felt everything that I felt, Marrick. And so, you walking away that morning said to me that the one thing I'd been seeking out my whole life, without ever knowing it, just wasn't worth it to you. Wasn't enough for you." I shake my head in wonder. "'How could you, Marrick?' That's the one question I've wanted to ask you all these years."

He says nothing. Keeps his back to me. I sigh and continue.

"I was trying to protect Segen the way I hadn't protected myself. You know, it scared me, that you could walk away so easily. Like it didn't matter. Never turned around once?" He's still quiet. I shake my head. "I waited for you, too, out in the rain and against my better judgement. I waited. So, your 'How could I'?" I shake my head again. "I don't know, Marrick. I just didn't want my son waiting out in the rain all his life; I thought a morning was more than enough for the both of us."

"Stop." It's quiet, meek and his back is still to me. But, I hear it all the same. He waits a little while, gathering his thoughts before he's ready to speak them. "Be honest, Rontu," he says, still quietly, "some part of you knew I was lying to you. You made a choice not to call me out on it; my lies never stopped you before."

I knew he'd say that.

"Until Segen, there was no one I ever loved as much as you," I tell him, "not even myself. I thought-" my brow furrows, "I don't know what I thought, Marrick. Maybe that you weren't ready? Maybe that you already knew about Segen and didn't want him? By the grace of Stenndar, what the fuck did you expect me to think? Did you want me to stop you? I'm sorry, then, I couldn't really see past the gaping hole in my fucking chest!"

He wrenches away from the bars, and paces restlessly before slamming his fist against the far brick wall.

"Damn you, you know that everything I said that morning was a lie! Did I love you? I was lost without you," he bellows. "And, I hated myself. I put my own happiness on the backburner- all to keep you safe."

"And, so it didn't occur to you that I deserved a say in my fate. We said no lies," I tell him sweetly.

"I think we both know that was the biggest lie of all," he retorts. "And, that I was trying to protect you? That wasn't one of them."

"Can we stop it, with the hero complex bullshit?"

He ignores me.

"I thought I was saving you from Miraak. He showed me visions of your death, and called it my future should I ever try to rise against him." He shook his head, "He knew you were my weakness-"

"Your weakness, how rich."

His face twists.

"Fuck you, Rontu, you know what I fucking mean!" he seethes. "He knew how much I loved you, and used it as collateral for buying my fate. And now, he holds my future with you and Segen over my head, like hostages-"

"Future?" I say, laughing shortly. "Oh, this should be good. Tell me, what 'future' did you think was waiting for you, Marrick?"

"My woman and my son," he growls, "What else?"

I raise my brows, eyeing him with amused contempt.

"Mawe," I say, tuttingly. "Someone's been busy making plans, haven't they? Tell me, was I going to have any say in this future of yours? Because I can tell you," I say with a smirk, "my own ideas are quite different."

"You. . ." Marrick's brow lifts high and his eyes widen, before his face twists into a mask of awful rage, his eyes blazing in fury. "You were going to stoop so low as to keep me from him?"

"Don't be stupid," I sneer, with a grim smile. "I've learned my lesson in that regard. You and Segen belong together, that much is crystal clear."

His brows smooths over in realization.

"You don't intend to be there," he whispers. "You were going to leave him with me." I press my lips together. "Does he know this?" I don't respond. "Rontu, you can't do that to him! I can't just step in and replace you; he needs us both!" When I still say nothing, he curses under his breath. "What sort of mother-"

"Now, that's where I draw the line," I snap. "You don't get to use him as leverage; you don't. Before anything else, I am myself. And, I cannot leave any room for you in me. Not when I've grown so aware of how easy it is for you to abandon me when it gets too tough."

"Rontu-"

"No."

He studies me carefully.

"So, that's it, then?" he asks, his voice deceptively calm. "We don't give this a try? We don't fight for- for whatever this is?"

"We can't even name it," I laugh drily.

Marrick shrugs, helplessly.

"Love."

I look to him, in the shadows of the cell, staring out at me, calling to my half of our soul.

"Don't," I hiss.

"I love you," he says simply. The frayed end of that dull, yellow cord in the center of my chest lifts up and strains in his direction. "I never stopped. And, I never got to say it back."

"Please," I hiss, between gritted teeth. "Don't say anything else."

"Rontu, you and me. . . what we have is something that only comes around once every few lifetimes. We can't let this go. This is a gift from the gods."

"You don't believe in the gods."

"That's beside the point, Princess, and you know it." I don't say anything, my jaw working. "Look," He sighs heavily. "I fucked up. I get it. I know. And more than that, I understand." I scoff in disgust, but he only nods, "I understand why you never told me about our son." His voice cracks. It hurts me to hear it. "You- I left you all alone with my child, all because I was too afraid of my fate. I didn't prioritize you, or tell you anything; I acted all on my own, and I hurt you. I hurt you worse than I ever could have with my hands." He drops to his knees before the bars. "But- if you let me- I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you and our son." I don't mean to, but I look him right in the eyes. He's crying. "That's no lie," he says softly.

"Even. . ." I draw a deep breath, like water from a well, and I try again. "Even if I could forgive you for that morning. . . I could never forgive you for Iman. It's going to take a lot more than fate, and a lot more than love and a lot more than our son to ever get me next to you again. You must know that, Marrick."

He opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him.

"I know you didn't know about her, Marrick. I do." I shake my head, trembling. "But, I'm just not that good a person. It's as simple as that." I debate with myself whether or not to tell him my feelings on the matter, and decide that if I'm truly not going to ever forgive this betrayal, he might as well know.

"Ever since the fall of Hegathe, I have considered all this world a battlefield between myself and the Aldmeri Dominion. They destroy my home?" I shrug, "I dismantle their Embassy. They spread their influence near mine? I help the Alik'r capture Iman Suda. Things like that." I smile grimly. "They had the last laugh, Marrick. I can't… hurt them, like they've hurt me. I've been thinking this way about them so long, I can't even see you as a person. Just some weak patch of armor, right here," I touch my hand to my chest. "And, now that they've pierced me, I can't help but fault the armor. Can you understand? I just feel-" I sigh harshly, and the truth comes tumbling out. "I feel like you aren't mine anymore. And, it's unbearable."

I turn my gaze on him at last.

"You don't think we could ever work past this?"

"No," I tell him. "I don't." He exhales a deep sigh. "Marrick, is that this is something that could never work, for too many different reasons." I smile grimly. "You will never forgive me for Segen. I will never forgive you for Iman. That's just the way it is."

He doesn't deny this.

"If that's all true," he says quietly. "If that's really how this ends, then what was last night?"

It takes a while, but I'm finally able to answer him.

"Last night is proof that it was all real."

His face is cast down, shadowed so that I can't see it. His hands have rolled into heavy fists and I can see by the veins standing out in his neck that his jaw is clenched.

"Who told you?" he asks, surprising me with the softness of his voice. "Who told you I'd been with her?"

I can't help but smile.

"No one," I tell him. "I was in Whiterun, on my way to see you. I thought… I thought that seeing you again was fate. When I followed you upstairs in the Bannered Mare, I saw the two of you, together. You were-"

"That's enough," he rasps out. "Enough. I've heard enough." I press my lips together and nod, preparing to leave when suddenly, his voice stops me. "I wish-" I turn to look at him, face still shadowed, fists still clenched against his knees. "I wish I could strip off my skin. Peel it off. Scrub it off." He shrugs helplessly. "Burn it, right off my bones. I wish I could grow a new skin and have the only woman to ever touch it be you."

My eyes fill with tears and I smile so wide and so hard, my cheeks begin to ache.

It's a childish thing to say, for sure. But, it's the most honest thing he's ever said to me. It's also something he didn't have to say. Just like my childish truth about Skyrim existing only as a playground for the Dominion and me- Marrick is offering his own hesitant truth.

"Shazaa will take care of you from here on. Marrick, I know you will be a great king. When it's all over, I will send Segen to be with you. If either of you ever needs me, Adjin and Jarsha will know where to find me."

He says nothing, but his fists grip tighter. When I make to leave, he calls out my name.

"I did turn around," he tells me, with a small smile. "I turned around thirteen times."

I try to hold my own smile inside myself, but I can't.

"Goodbye," I say, gently as I can. And then, my hand on the latch of the door, because I know I will never see him again: "I love you."