#tes4

"A trip to Bruma for some supplies should keep you busy enough. Again, it's all I have for now. Unless you want to train our newest recruits." He arches an eyebrow at you.

You grimace and shake your head. "Bruma it is, then." You read over the paper again. It's just a supply order for some food, weapons, and armor to be delivered to Cloud Ruler Temple - surely for those new recruits he just mentioned.

Jauffre nods. "Excellent. We would be most grateful. Just hand the paper to each of the business owners listed on there. I'll provide you with the gold to give them, and some for you as well."

Now that makes the job a little more agreeable. "Alright. I can start heading there soon," you say.

"Head where, if I may ask?" The new voice prompts you and Jauffre to both turn and see Martin approaching the table. The first thing you notice is that he looks awfully tired. His eyes appear duller than usual, and there are faint circles of darkness under them. Concern wraps its way around your chest, but your question is answered when you see he's holding that damned Mysterium Xarxes book. He'd been studying it before you left days ago, and it seems he still is.

"Good afternoon, your Highness," Jauffre greets him politely. "I was just discussing an errand with our friend here. How is your deciphering of the book coming?"

Martin shakes his head and sets the tome down on the table. The thump of it falling on the wood almost echoes through the hall.

"I'm afraid I haven't made much progress," he admits, his soft voice tinged with defeat. "I have been caught on the same part for a few days now. I am determined to keep working at it, of course, but it is... taxing."

You feel a jab of sympathy in your gut. He looks as exhausted as you feel. Whatever he's doing might be just as bad as facing Daedra in a fiery battlefield.

"You should withdraw from your studies for a while, then," Jauffre advises him. "Take some time to rest. You might return to it with a clearer head."

Martin nods slowly, looking a little more relieved at that suggestion. His gaze shifts from Jauffre over to you. "What is this errand you are being sent on?"

"I'm just dropping off some orders in Bruma." You cast him a small smile. "You should come with me. You need to get out of here for a bit."

Martin's eyes immediately brighten back up, and the sight makes your heartbeat stutter. Before he can even open his mouth to reply, though, Jauffre beats him to it.

"Absolutely not." The grandmaster shakes his head and levels you a sharp glare. "It is far too dangerous for him in such a busy city. There could be spies or assassins at any corner. He must stay here."

The familiar heat of frustration builds up within you. "Come on. I'll be there- I'll make sure he's safe. He can't stay here all the time. It'll drive him mad."

"If the Mysterium Xarxes doesn't do it first," Martin pipes in. He tosses a somewhat pleading glance at Jauffre.

The older man shakes his head again. "No. I'm sorry, Martin, but as the only living heir, we cannot put you at any risk. I can have another Blade accompany you for a walk outside, but you must not leave the Temple grounds."

The speed at which Martin masks his disappointment is impressive. He dips his head. "I understand. Thank you, Jauffre."

You aren't hiding your expression as well. You practically glare daggers at Jauffre, but he doesn't seem to notice - or care. He just hands you a pouch of coins.

"Right, then. Here are the funds for those orders. I'll see you when you get back."

You mutter your agreement as he turns and heads back out to the courtyard to return to his training. The second the doors shut behind him, you look over at Martin.

He looks right back at you, and you catch the slightest little glimmer in his eyes. One that you surely mimic in your own gaze.

"Jauffre is quite the guard," he says. "Very loyal to the rules."

You pick up the bag of coin with a grin. "Too bad we're not all like him."

And so with the help of a secret side passage through the fortress, the two of you sneak out unseen later that evening. It's nearly dusk when you finally reach Bruma. Martin gets a good laugh at watching you practically sprint for the places Jauffre listed, trying to reach them before they close. Thankfully, you manage to place all the orders just in time.

After that it’s easy for the two of you to blend in with the citizens. You pay a visit to the Chapel, admiring the clean and quiet atmosphere. You stroll around outside the grounds of Castle Bruma, then scurry away when the patrolling guards start to throw you second glances. You don’t get to wander around much more when snow begins to soak through your boots and your shared laughter is accompanied by chattering teeth. You end up rushing into Olaf’s Tap and Tack, a cozy inn at the center of town.

It’s surprisingly busy, filled with clusters of civilians and guards. There’s not even a table available, so you tug Martin along with you to the far edge of the front counter of the bar. You use some of that coin Jauffre gave you to buy a couple bottles of mead and a singular pastry to share.

An hour or so passes, but it’s hard to keep track of the time. You’re too caught up in swapping stories and feeling warmth ease farther into your body. Maybe it’s the cheap mead slipping into your belly, or hearing Martin’s laughter as you tell him about one of your embarrassing mishaps with the Imperial guards, but you begin to feel significantly lighter than when you were still at Cloud Ruler Temple.

You almost don’t notice that the crowd and noise of the inn has dwindled, and you and Martin are some of the last ones there aside from a drunk passed out on a table. When the innkeeper himself finally retires to his quarters, you take it as your sign to head out, leaving a few spare coins on the counter for him.

The snow outside is coming down softer than before. If the air is any colder, you don’t really feel it, your body still buzzing with warmth. It makes it easier for the two of you to wander around aimlessly again, conversing quietly about something, anything, to put off the dreaded trek back to the Temple.

“No, no. I’m pretty sure it was a sweetroll we were eating back there,” you say defensively as you head down one of the empty streets. You’re walking so close together that your shoulders brush occasionally - accidentally or intentionally, who knows.

“I’m afraid you’re wrong,” Martin protests in an amused tone. “It was a sweetcake."

“Same thing.”

“Not quite- there is a distinction.”

You can’t help the snort of laughter that rises up in you. You turn to look at him. “I didn’t know you were so knowledgeable about baked goods. Please, do enlighten me on-”

You shut up when you suddenly notice someone at the opposite end of the street, walking in your direction. It only takes a second to recognize the familiar outfit on them - Blades armor. A jolt of panic shocks your whole body, and before you can even think about it, you snatch Martin’s hand and quickly pull him with you off the street.

You dive into a small, small space between two houses, now blanketed by darkness instead of the torch-lit path of the street. You press your back into the wooden wall behind you, your heartbeat thudding in your ears.

“What? What is it?” Martin’s whisper is equal parts confused and worried. He mirrors you, leaning closer to his side of the little alley space right across you.

“One of the Blades is out there,” you say under your breath. “I think it’s Caroline.”

To your horror, Martin starts to tilt his head closer to the end of the alley, like he plans to take a peek. You didn’t realize you’re still holding his hand, which you squeeze and tug on.

“What are you doing?!” You hiss.

He pulls back into the safety of the shadows. You can hardly see him, but his light blue eyes are more visible than the rest of him. “She may be here searching for me. If they somehow found out I’m not there…”

“Then Jauffre will definitely have me kicked out- or killed.” You can’t help but cringe.

“I will tell him it was my idea. He won’t kill me, after all,” Martin offers.

You start to scoff and say something back, but the clinking of armor comes closer and you both freeze. You look out of the corner of your eye and watch with bated breath as the shadow of the Blade gets bigger. You half expect Martin to step out and reveal himself, but fortunately he stays put.

Caroline walks by , but thank the Divines she doesn’t look down the alley. Her head turns the other direction, her eyes sweeping over the rest of the city. You wait another few moments. Her footsteps fade and she heads for another street.

You let out a breath, though you still keep it as quiet as possible. Your body relaxes from the tense stance it was just in.

“You would think I saw one of those assassins Jauffre mentioned,” you mutter.

Martin breathes out a hushed chuckle. “With reflexes like yours, I would still be in good hands.”

You feel a light pressure on your hand. You realize it’s his thumb, making a subtle sweep on the back of your palm. Blood rushes up your neck and you instinctively let go. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he assures you, but he sounds almost … disappointed. He turns to glance towards the street again. “I suppose that was a sign that we should be returning to Cloud Ruler Temple.”

Your heart sinks, but you nod. “I suppose.”

A moment passes, then another… and neither of you move.

In your urgency to stay hidden, you hadn’t noticed just how small this space is. Even with your backs pressed into the walls, you’re close enough to feel your knees brushing his. And now that your vision has adjusted to the darkness, you see him better too - the snowflakes still lingering in his hair and the reflection of the nearby torch lights in his eyes.

Eyes you are surprised to find are already on you when you dare to look up at him.

You take a deep breath. Even that little movement brings you just a tad closer. “Well, let’s not both rush at once,” you joke.

That earns you a smile from him, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s still a little pull in his brow as he studies you for a moment. “I’m not exactly eager to go back,” he admits.

You almost agree right away, but instead you ask him gently, “Why not?”

Martin takes a deep breath of his own, and when he exhales, you swear you can just barely feel his breath ghosting over your hair. “There is… so much expected of me back there. I am expected to lead the Blades, and decipher that awful book, and prepare to become the next emperor.”

His gaze lifts and meets your own, and your heart trips over itself.

“But when I am with you, like tonight, I feel very much at ease. It’s as though I am just another man. No expectations, no duties, no worries plaguing me- or us.” His eyebrows scrunch with a bit of concern as he looks at you. “I’m sure you know what it is like, to have so many responsibilities and people depending on you.”

You can only nod, not wanting to interrupt him. You do know what it’s like.

“But here,” he continues, “I can imagine I am not the next Emperor, and you are not the Hero of Kvatch. I can imagine we are just two normal civilians with no expectations or worries-” He cracks a small, somewhat sad smile. “-even if only for a night.”

You sit in silence for a moment as the weight of his words wraps around you. A number of emotions flit about in your head and chest, but above all else, there’s an undeniable warmth spreading within you.

“I imagine that, too,” you confess. Your hand itches to take his again, to actually focus on how his skin feels. “If only things were … simpler.”

He nods once. Another pause passes between you two.

“But they’re not.” You dare to look back up at him. “Maybe that’s why we should make the most of nights like this.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you rethink them, especially when you see a flicker of surprise in Martin’s eyes. Your heart begins to gallop and you start to think up a rushed apology.

“Maybe we should,” he says before you can do so. His face softens again, and you notice his gaze jumping to your hand now, like maybe he’s facing the same urge you had a moment ago.

So this time, you go for it. Your fingers brush over his loosely, still giving him the chance to retreat in case this is all a misunderstanding.

But then he takes your hand within his so easily that you just know it’s not. His fingers and palm wrap over your own, and his skin is softer than you imagined. You suddenly feel lighter, warmer, in every which way.

“We should head back soon before they send a real search party for you,” you reason, but you instinctively lean off the wall, just an inch closer to him.

“Soon, you say…” Martin’s other hand places itself at the small of your back, and your heart now feels like it’s just about dancing in your chest. He brings you an inch even closer. “How soon?” He murmurs. You’ve never been close enough to hear his voice that low and soft, and it sends a shiver of elation down your spine.

“Soon enough that Jauffre won’t pummel me on sight,” you reply, and Martin chuckles again. You want nothing more than to lean the rest of the way in, to feel the rumble of his chest against your own and to bury your hand in his hair and to kiss him like you’re not his Blade, and he’s not your Emperor - like you’re just normal civilians.

But you remember with a terrifying yet thrilling thought - maybe you can be. Even if only for a night.

“We’ll head back, but until we get there…” your voice falls to a whisper, afraid it will shake if it gets any louder. Your free hand finds purchase between his shoulder and neck, pausing to ask, “...can we still just be ‘normal civilians’?”

He gives you a hushed “yes” decorated with a smile, and you bury the last of your doubts as you pull him in.

It’s a very soft and timid kiss at first, a gentle press of your lips that only lasts a few seconds. You break apart for a moment, but there’s an unspoken charge still lingering between you, neither of you daring to move away from one another.

“Was that alri-” Martin starts to ask, but you don’t let him finish. You tug him back in and this time, there’s no reluctance from either of you.

This time the kiss is solid, relentless, maybe even a little clumsy, but you can’t possibly care about that. You only care about how tender his lips are when they take yours with enough firmness to make your belly flip in delight, and the distant taste of that cheap tavern mead and pastry sugar, and the warmth of your bodies finally coming this close. It feels so incredibly natural, so incredibly right, and Gods know you’ve been overdue for something to go right.

Your joined hands have let go of one another in search of a new anchor spot. Yours finds its way to his hair after all, fingers lost in the soft brown strands, and you relish in the shaky breath he exhales into the kiss. And when his hand circles your waist firmly, pulling you in until your body is flush against his, it’s your turn to be winded.

You are momentarily lost in one another until a guard’s distant voice grounds you. The kiss is reluctantly broken, but neither of you have the strength to go farther than that. For a moment you stay clinging to one another, foreheads touching and visible breaths mingling.

The guard’s voice comes a bit closer, and the familiar weight of reality presses down on you again. “That’s our cue,” you whisper. “I’d like to survive long enough to sneak you out again.”

“Very well.” Martin heaves a sigh that nearly breaks your heart. It springs back to life when he places one last chaste kiss on your forehead. “Thank you - I needed a night like this. I will cherish it until the next one.”

You smile, and it takes all your strength to not lean back in towards him. If only you could. Instead, you step away, and lead him out on a brisk walk out of the alley and into the city.