A/N: Some of you might notice I've written the Blades as nearer to a special force than they appear in the game. If they were as inept as they are in Oblivion, it would be easy to see how they managed to lose two Septims in just a few short months (depending on how long you take on the main quest) and need their hands constantly held by some lowlife they hooked out of the Imperial Prison (meaning the player character).

And White Wolf Zita: I felt so bad for Goneld in the game that I tried making a mod where the player could rescue him, but it was too problematic since he's part of the Main Quest and I am no scripter (I model and texture mostly). He's such a courageous and self-sacrificing character and there's no way to help him out – even the Hero of Kvatch can't get off the plot rails.

You probably couldn't tell he was a canon character in an OC fanfic because none of my characters is an overly described human vampire assassin who is his sibling/cousin/child. They always pick Lucien LaChance for that...

Chapter 29

Goneld took one look at the two Redguards and decided they weren't going to waste any time talking. Consequently, he had his arrow nocked before they were three steps into the enclosure. They were moving fast for men carrying swords, but that was only to be expected; and he was sure he would be the first to be cut down anyway. That's what he would have done.

He was wrong. The nearer man jinked to Goneld's right, going for the big Dremora. Goneld raised an eyebrow at this and aimed for his eye socket. He missed. The Redguard was moving to fast for him to draw an accurate bead in the dark. The arrow pinged off a distant stone wall.

One man reached Ebel-Merodach slightly before the other. The kynaz knocked the first sweeping blow aside with the head of his mace. He might have been decapitated by the other Redguard, except that the girl Laure knocked the charging Blade back a step with a lightning spell. It was a better charge than Goneld had expected, even from a Breton, but the Redguard's garments were undoubtedly enchanted to resist spells. He shook his head as the blue fingers of lightning faded and turned toward Laure. The blade of the katana came up inexorably, glittering in the starlight.

Goneld dropped the bow and drew his shortsword. He had no chance, of course – not against a much younger man in constant practice with a Blade's training to boot – but he couldn't let the girl be gutted like a fish without offering some sort of resistance. Time seemed to slow down as the Blade took a dancing step forward, eyes flickering between Goneld and Laure.

The world seemed to explode. Goneld felt a blast of radiant heat on his right side and found himself airborne, still holding tightly to his sword. There was no knowing where it would end up if he let go, he thought. Then he landed on his left shoulder, knocking the wind out of himself. He scrambled to his feet as he tried to reinflate his lungs. His eyebrows felt singed. Which means...

One Redguard was gone, scorched to ashes by the fireball that had knocked Goneld sideways. The other had already rolled to his feet. It was too dark to tell if he had been caught in the blast nimbus. Ebel-Merodach stood between him and the Sleeper. Sodrinye lay propped on one elbow. Steam still rose from the fingers of one limp hand.

"So much for him," said Goneld under his breath. He could see the sprawled form of Laure off to his right if he glanced that way.

"Interfering female," said Ebel-Merodach, but he sounded more amused than annoyed. The Redguard took another swing at him, but he blocked this one easily. Goneld sheathed his shortsword and looked around for his bow. It lay over by where Laure was.

Goneld's ears were ringing. The clash of the Redguard's katana against the Dremora's mace sounded tinny and distant. He went to get the bow, keeping a wary eye on the combatants. Both seemed to be ignoring him, though the Redguard was now making shift to keep Merodach between himself and the Sleeper. Though if he does kill the caitiff she'll get him anyway. I wonder if he knows.

Laure groaned. Goneld went to squat next to her once he had the bow in hand. She didn't appear to have any real burns, although her eyebrows had suffered the same as Goneld's. He couldn't tell if there was blood in her brown hair. She must've hit her head when she landed. He was strangely relieved that she wasn't dead. He didn't know yet whether he liked her, but it would be difficult to lose the only human being he'd talked to for more than a sentence in the last two years or so. There had been a point in his life where he had associated this sort of mindset with weakness. It probably is weakness. That doesn't make it go away, though.

He looked up at a loud clang. The Redguard had taken another swipe at Ebel-Merodach and had it deflected from a heavy pauldron. The kynaz's armor still glowed faintly in the dark. The man's shirt was torn where the mace had evidently connected, but he wasn't moving as if his ribs were broken as he edged to one side. Merodach turned to follow him.

"Is it over?" asked Laure. Goneld put a hand under her shoulder and helped her sit up.

"It will be soon," he said. "Merodach's mace is poisoned."

"Why would he poison a mace?" said Laure muzzily.

"I'd guess it's because he doesn't know how to use a sword," said Goneld. "They're not really a flexible race." That'd be just like a kynaz, to have eternity to learn every weapon in creation and just not bother with it.

There was a soft thump as the Redguard hit the ground. One last lightning reflex sent the katana in an invisibly quick blow at Merodach's ankle, but it struck harmless sparks from the black metal of his heavy boot. Goneld felt rather than saw Laure's wince as Merodach brought the other boot down on the man's head, just to be sure. The sound it made was one he doubted she would quickly forget.

"Stand back from the body," said Sodrinye. Merodach stepped to one side. Laure looked sideways at Goneld.

"We're probably all right here," he said, but he covered his eyes with one hand just in case. Anything he might have said further was drowned out by the roaring whoosh of another enormous fireball.

Goneld lowered his hand. This time the conflagration had left behind a merry little blaze in the small firepit. He could see the others fairly well, including the dark stain in Laure's hair. She was just uncovering her own eyes. He watched as she raised one unsteady hand. Blue light spiraled up around her wrist and fingers. Some of the drying blood turned to dust and drifted away. There was still some left.

"Have you also injured yourself, Menien Goneld?" inquired Merodach dryly. Laure did not even blush at this, which led Goneld to suspect the head injury might be more serious than he'd supposed.

"No," said Goneld. "But then, I've survived Sodrinye's attempts at the subtle craft of magicka before. Can you stand up?" he asked Laure. She held out a hand, and he hoisted her to her feet as he stood up. She was an unsurprisingly solid weight. She remained upright, swaying slightly.

"Aren't you going to heal yourself again?" he said.

"I'm afraid I have run out of magicka," she said, enunciating carefully.

Goneld led Laure over toward the fire and the two Dremora. "This is probably going to hurt," he said.

"Really? Why?" said Laure. Sodrinye raised one hand. Goneld caught Laure's elbow to keep her from falling over when the massive charge of blue magicka hit. Bruises he'd acquired earlier faded suddenly as the nimbus of the spell caught him.

"Oh," said Laure, when she could stand up straight again. "I see." She looked down at Sodrinye, who was watching them with no more expression than usual. "Thank you."

"I suggest we pass the rest of the night inside," said Sodrinye. She used the word easily, with no sign that day and night had been strange concepts a month ago. "Someone may come to see what happened to these men. They will not search far into the ruin."

"That's because they'll assume nothing can survive in there," said Menien Goneld, carefully letting go of Laure's elbow. "It's full of restless dead."

"Restless human dead," said Sodrinye. It didn't sound like a question. She reached for the lower edge of Ebel-Merodach's cuirass, wrapped her fingers around what appeared to be the least sharp point on it, and began to haul herself ungracefully upright. Merodach seized her by the shoulder and lifted her easily onto her feet.

"Probably," said Goneld, looking up at the bulk of the keep. "It's an old Imperial fort. Even now, the Legion is almost all human."

"I don't think it'll be just skeletons and zombies," said Laure slowly. "The atmosphere of evil is very strong. There likely is a lich inside."

Goneld looked at the two Dremora. "That bother you?"

"What is a lich?" asked Ebel-Merodach.