A Nord's Tale

Travel along the Orange Road had been a silent, somber affair. To Sanyue, it felt like a funeral procession. Not long after the three had left Weynon Priory, the adrenaline high they had experienced had begun to fade. Martin had resumed his half-slumber, his head bent forward as he swayed gently with the trotting of his horse. Jauffre was not fairing much better. He was loosing his fight against sleep, his head dipping forward until he caught himself and jerked awake only to repeat the cycle again a few minutes later.

Sanyue rode to Jauffre's side, putting her hand on his shoulder. His eyes were half closed and the effort to stay awake as the sun set behind them must have felt torturous. "Jauffre," she whispered softly. Even though he was tired enough to pass out, he knew exactly what Sanyue was going to ask. He knew that they needed to get to Cloud Ruler Temple as quickly as they could to ensure Martin's safety, however the uneasy look in Sanyue's eyes brought his mind to their current situation.

Even with Chorrol, Bruma and Imperial City less than a day's ride from each other, there were still bandits and other creatures that roamed this area. Now that Jauffre thought about the dangers, his addled mind conjured hidden enemies behind every tree and shrub as they traveled through the darkening forest. Sanyue squeezed his shoulder, her eye insistent. She seemed to relax as Jauffre nodded. She dared not speak in the darkness. She had heard far too many stories about this area. The bandit activity between Underpall and Outlaw Endres caves was the subject of many an adventurer's tales told by the many wandering fighters and mages that frequented the Main Ingredient where she worked under the tutelage of Ogier Georick.

Georick paid little attention to their stories, however Sanyue had hung on their every word. She would often be called over to mix the simpler potions and poisons for the customers when Ogier was doing something more important. The stories would remind her just a little bit of home, and she craved them at times when she felt like she was all alone in the Imperial City. The Nords that lived there had parted ways with the old traditions in exchange for acceptance, but Sanyue wanted neither. After all, wasn't Talos himself a son of Skyrim?

Jauffre led them to a small rocky out cropping where the shape of the road would effectively hide them from any passers by. Neither dared a fire as they spread out their bedrolls, Sanyue offering to take the watch. Both men smiled gratefully and settled down into a deep sleep. Sanyue kept her back to the rocks, as she listened to the sounds of the forest around her. It was much too dark to try to look for intruding animals or assassins, so she kept her ears open. Her nose tickled as a gust of wind blew through the tree tops, the clouds covering the stars promising a morning rain. The scent was comforting to the Nord woman.

As the hours ticked by, Sanyue found some entertainment in scratching random symbols in the dirt with a stick. In her exhaustion, her hands moved of their own volition, scratching the tip of the stick into the dirt. She started violently as one of the horses sneezed, snuffling softly as the mare resumed her slumber. Sanyue sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she looked around. The forest was quite a bit lighter than she remembered. The sun had not risen yet, but the sky was filled with a grey haze. She shook her head as she looked down at her two traveling companions. Jauffre was reclined on his back, his katana's hilt in his hands, ready to be wielded at a moment's notice.

Martin was on his side with his back away from Sanyue. She could hear his deep breathing over the soft sounds of early morning birds chirping. He was a handsome man, though definitely not young. If Uriel was 87, then Martin would be at least 52, possibly a few years older. Though, on Septim terms, he was just hitting his stride if Tiber Septim's life span could be used as a benchmark. Her eyes slid from Martin's features to the ground in front of her, her eyes going wide. She stared at what her hands had etched into the hard packed earth at her feet. Jauffre stirred on his bedroll as Sanyue used her shoe to rub out what she had scratched out.

The Grandmaster of the Blades, took a deep breath as he groaned, his back likely stiff from sleeping on the hard ground. He shifted to a sitting position, sitting his katana in front of him as he tried to rub the kinks out of his shoulders. "Mmm... Now I remember why I hated this so much." Sanyue chuckled, sharing a quiet smile with the older monk. Jauffre jerked his chin at Martin. "At least one of us slept well."

"Considering what he went through, I'm surprised he's able to sleep so soundly." Jauffre nodded as he studied the priest.

Sanyue began the soft scratching with the stick in her hands again. "May I ask," Sanyue looked up at Jauffre as he spoke quietly. "How did you meet Uriel?"

Sanyue stifled a yawn behind her fist, letting out the air through pursed lips. "He would say that the Gods had placed me in his path for this very purpose." Jauffre lifted his head, knowing that was exactly what Uriel would say. In his later years, after the Imperial Simulacrum, the man had become obsessed with fate and the Gods' will. Jauffre wondered also if it were the Gods who had placed Martin's mother in Uriel's chambers the night Martin was conceived. Knowing Talos, Jauffre had no doubt that was true. And just as there was more to Uriel and Martin's mother's relationship, so to did Jauffre sense that there was more Sanyue was not telling him.

Martin stirred, grunting as he lifted his head to regard them with bleary eyes. "Good morning, Martin." The priest only grunted again much to Sanyue's amusement as he too sat up, rolling the shoulder he had slept on. Jauffre dug through his pack and pulled out a pair of apples and handed one to Sanyue and Martin. Both ate in silence as Jauffre took one of the fruit for himself as their mares took their meal as leave to forage for grass. The three ate in silence as the sun rose over the Orange Road.

---

The closer the three got to Cloud Ruler Temple, the more Sanyue felt at home. Jauffre and Martin were both shivering under their robes, but Sanyue was a Nord. The bitter cold had been a constant companion to her and the other Nord children in Skyrim. She smiled as she remembered throwing snowballs at passing Imperial soldiers, laughing as they ran with ease through the snow while the soldiers were forced to lift their legs in some idiotic imitation of the Mad-god's dance just to follow.

The Temple did not look like a temple at all. Jauffre was right about it being able to hold up against an army. The walls looked like they grew from the mountain itself. There were Blades patrolling the top, all of them watching the trio as they approached the gates. Jauffre dismounted his horse, Martin and Sanyue following as the monk stood in front of the great wooden gates. They opened with a groan, one Blade at each door as a third descended the steps to greet them. He slammed his fist against his chest as he bowed to Jauffre. "Grandmaster," he greeted, though when his eyes settled on Martin, his breath caught. "is this... "

"Yes, Cyrus." The Blade immediately knelt to one knee. "This is the Emperor's son, Martin Septim." Martin himself seemed to have become uncomfortable with the whole display.

"My Lord," Cyrus slammed his fist to his chest again as he bowed his head. "Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple. We have not had the honor of an Emperor's visit in many years!"

Martin looked down right miserable, taking a deep breath to still the desire to disappear down the mountain and into the nearest tavern. "Ah, well, thank you!" Sanyue's hand went to his arm, just below his shoulder and out of sight of the two Blades. He released his breath quietly, calming somewhat. "The honor is mine." Martin turned his gaze to her, making the woman self consciously jerk her hand a way from his arm, apologizing softly. He smiled, trying to reassure-

"Come, Martin." Jauffre swept his hand forward toward the Temple. "Your Blades are waiting to greet you." Martin nodded and started inside. Sanyue followed behind Jauffre as the two Blades at the doors led their horses up the steps. Martin seemed to tense up the further up the steps he went, which seemed to ascend forever. She wondered if that were symbolic in a way of Martin's ascension to Emperor. The rest of the Blades stood in a column on either side of Jauffre, Martin and Sanyue, standing at attention as they stopped and greeted them. Sanyue stepped to the side with the Blades.

"Blades!" Jauffre called out and each one of them stood at attention. "Dark times are upon us; The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch." Sanyue lowered her head, a stricken look on her face. She had been there as well, and just as unable to save him. "The Empire is in chaos. But there is yet hope! Here is Martin Septim," Jauffre put his hand on Martin's shoulder, seemingly to drive home how real and tangible their hope was. All it did for Martin, however, was increase is unease. "True son of Uriel Septim!"

The Blades erupted, "Hail Dragon Born," as they drew their katanas and thrust them into the air. "Hail Martin Septim! Hail!" Martin's eyes found Sanyue's. She tried to give him her most reassuring smile, and he tried to return it as best he could.

"Your Highness," Jauffre put his fist to his chest as he bowed to Martin. "The Blades are at your command. You will be safe here until you can take up your throne."

"Jauffre, all of you," Martin was not sure what he wanted to say. 'You have the wrong man, I am no Emperor,' came to mind. However when he looked into their faces, into their eyes and saw the hope, the desperite need for an Emperor there... how could he take this from them? If this was all he could give them in the Empire's time of need, then he would do his best. "I know you all expect me to be emperor, I'll do my best. But this is all new to me." If he could impress upon them just how new this was, perhaps he could avoid those looks of reverence that threatened to break him into a million tiny pieces. "I am not used to giving speeches. But I wanted you to know that I appreciate your welcome here. I hope to prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days." He looked around at the Blades hanging on his every word. Not for the first time, he felt slightly disturbed. "That's it. Thank you." He sighed, watching Jauffre's barely concealed, slightly uncomfortable amusement.

"Well, then. Thank you, Martin." Jauffre looked like he had just realized himself how new this was, berating himself for being blinded by Martin's pedigree to see that he was every bit the humble priest he had been trained to be. "We'd all best get back to our duties, eh Captain?" Jauffre clapped Cyrus on the shoulder as the Blade Captain returned to his responsibilities. He had almost forgotten how cold it could get in Bruma. And it was only Last Seed. He could only imagine what Hearthfire would feel like.

Sanyue chuckled as Martin tried to keep warm by wrapping his arms around himself. "Not much of a speech was it?" Sanyue pursed her lips as she shrugged her shoulders. "Didn't seem to bother them, though." He sighed, his breath coming out in a white cloud. "The Blades saluting me and hailing me as Martin Septim... I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know I would be dead if it weren't for you. Thank you." Sanyue nodded her head. Truth be told, she was quite ready to just go back home to Falkreath. The cold of Bruma had made her homesick.

"But everyone suddenly expects me to know what to do, how to behave. They want an Emperor to tell them what to do, and I haven't the faintest idea..."

Sanyue sighed softly, home would have to wait. "We need to get the Amulet back."

"Of course," Martin smiled, some of the tension leaving his face. "The Amulet of Kings. So We - I can take it to the Temple of the One and light the Dragon Fires. And stop the Oblivion invasion."

"And you will be Emperor," Sanyue bowed her head slightly, though she still gave him her most reassuring smile. Martin the Priest was going to need a friend if he was going to be come Martin Septim, the Emperor.

"The Emperor," Martin chuckled, shaking his head. "That is an idea that will take some getting use to." He cleared his throat. "In any case, we need the Amulet first. Maybe Jauffre will know where to start." He clapped his hand on Sanyue's shoulder, squeezing as she had done to comfort him when they had first entered the Temple. "Don't worry about me, my friend. I know I'm in good hands here."

She turned toward Jauffre, who seemed to have been waiting just within earshot of their conversation. He gave her a fatherly smile as he put his hand on her shoulder, motioning for her to head inside as well. As soon as the doors opened, Sanyue felt all of the snow that had clung to her melt away. On the far side of the room was an enormous hearth blazing with a bright fire that lit the entire room. Looking up, Sanyue was suddenly reminded of Baurus. She had given him the swords of his two fallen comrades and now she could see both of them hanging from the rafters over the blazing fire. This must be the Halls of the Blades.

As the warmth and history sunk into her mind, so too did her weariness sink into her very bones. Jauffre seemed to feel her shoulders sag. He too looked as tired as she felt. "Rest here, for now. We will discuss strategy on the morrow." Sanyue wanted to argue, but her body told her to shut up.

She smiled, bowing her head to Jauffre as she followed the Blades who were guiding Martin to his chambers. Martin would be sleeping up stairs while the rest of the Blades slept on the floor. Sanyue was not as put out by the arrangement as she expected to be and she plopped down on the nearest bedroll, her eyes drifting closed for the first time in three days.