A:N: Okay, so this is just a short one shot I thought of a few days ago... Or it may become a story... I'm not sure... xD
For those who want to know about the sequel to The Mortal Of Moonshadow, I should be posting it up soon.

Well, to the story thingie... :)

'In my wildest dreams, you always play the hero. In my darkest hour of life, you rescue me, you save my life.' - Bliss and Cerney

She was sat outside the Kvatch Arena when he first saw her. More accurately, she was sat on the jutting bit of wood that stuck out from the top of the entrance door, approximately twelve foot above the ground. Her legs were swaying, her dark blue eyes skimming over the city in unfazed boredom. Her shining dark hair hung down her front and back, styled in thick ringlets. He made his way over towards her, her beauty capturing him momentarily. Smiling when she saw him, the girl jumped down from her place, her shoes creating small dust clouds as she landed gracefully onto the cobbled floor.

Slightly smaller than him in height, he noticed that her hair was a few shades darker than his own, and her eyes were not the dark blue he had thought they were. In fact, they were a dazzling, exotic green. He was captivated.

"What is your name?"

"Lucielle. Yours?" Lucielle smiled sweetly, her happiness radiating a good few feet around her.

"Martin. You are obviously not from around here... Which town do you come from?"

"Skingrad. Rosethorn Hall. I'm only visiting today." She smiled again, shaking Martins outstretched hand.

"Skingrad? Why travel along such a dangerous route, for only a day?"

"I got bored. My father came with me. He is doing business of which I am not allowed to be included in. So I left the castle as wandered around here. I find this town fascinating." She started to walk slowly away from the Arena, Martin following at her side.

"It's just a town. It's like all the others out there, really."

"I've never seen those towns. I know their names, the statues that stand in the towns, and the god that their chapels worship. But I have only ever seen Skingrad, and Kvatch." A trickle of sadness entered her voice, accompanied by an overwhelming amount of disdain.

"Really?! Why?!"

"My father is the protective type. After I lost my mother when I was five, my father has never let me leave the city walls. Not unaccompanied. And that is only when I need to collect some alchemy ingredients from the fields. Toutius Sextius is normally my accompaniment. I assure you, it is very boring." A low sigh left her lips as she ran her hand along the small stone wall surrounding the Kvatch graveyard.

"That must be horrible. Forgive me for asking, but what is your age?" Green eyes locking with his blue ones, she feigned surprise and shock.

"Oh my! One must never ask a lady her age! Shame on you!" Chuckling, she punched his shoulder lightly, his skin flaring at the touch. "I am sixteen years of age. Yourself?"

"Sixteen. Allow me to accompany you through Kvatch."

They spend the rest of the day conversing in deep conversation, discussing a wide range of topics. From daily hobbies and specialized skills, to heavy debates on the work of the Gods. Her smile was sad at the appearence of her fathers call, a sudden flicker of loneliness flittering in her eyes.

"Well, it seems I must take my leave. It has been fun whilst in your company, Martin Septim." Smiling her sweet, captivating smile, she made her way towards the stables. Her father was saddled on a pure, striking white horse, a contrasting black horse stood by the side of it.

"Will I see you again?" The words were out of his mouth before he had the chance to think. A thick desperation laced through it, a brighter smile lighting up Lucielles face. Her eyes darted over to her father, a slight look of being pulled back reflected in the soft pools of green.

"I cannot make any promises, and it will most likely be a while before I would see you again. But hopefully, you will." Martins lips curved upwards in a smile, hope waving across his face.

Flashing another smile, accompanied with a short nod, Lucielle jogged over towards the black horse, pulling herself up gracefully onto the saddle. Locking eyes with her father, Martin stiffled a gasp of confusion at the blood red glint that shone towards him.

It was another month before he saw her again. Her soft, warm hand had tapped him slowly on the shoulder, his reflexes kicking in and forcing him to throw her onto the ground in surprise.

"Ouw, gee. I know it's been a while, but that was just harsh." Annoyed with himself for his action, he sheepishly helped her up from the ground, brushing the dirt from the back of her quilted doublet.

"Um, sorry. It's just that when people sneak up on me from behind, I have a tendency to get them away from me in any way I can... Sorry." Muttering repeatedly, Lucielle only smiled as she brushed the dirt from her leather greaves.

"It's okay. I understand. My father taught me the same moves. Unfortunately, with Bosmers being so small, I had tendencies to throw them through shop windows. After the last incident, I was told to just yell." Lightly, a laugh left her lips, resounding sweetly in his ears.

"What happened?"

"A bosmer, by the name of Glarthir, patted me in the square of my back, intending to ask me for help. I threw him through Salmo the Bakers shop window. Accidentally of course. No wonder the guy is so paranoid."

"Who, Salmo? or Glarthir?"

"Glarthir."

"You threw him through a window? Are you part Nord, or something?" His question came off as a joke, a twinkle setting in his eyes. Smiling her captivating smile, she shook her head.

"Breton. Perhaps some Imperial... But mainly Breton. This bosmer just happened to be very... light." Laughing, she started to walk towards the Alchemist. Following her, he paused for a moment when the door was pushed open, and Lucielle stepped inside. It shut, and Martin decided to wait outside. That was, untill she dragged him in. The door had opened again, Lucielles face peeking thorugh.

"You coming in, or are you going to stand out there like an ogres dinner?" Humour danced in her eyes, before she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and dragged him over the threshold. Pulling out a large, white bag from her pack, she pushed it over the table towards the Alchemist. Melisanna cast a look of familiarity towards Lucielle, a mix of sympathy reflected in her eyes.

"What's that?" Martin had asked, curious.

"It's from Sinderion. Seeing as I was visiting Kvatch, he asked me to bring these to the alchemist." Not looking his way, she watched as the alchemist read the note. When that was said and done, Lucielle still stayed at the counter, staring down Melisanna, who had sat down in her chair.

"Why are we still here, Lucielle?" Not answering, Lucielle instead coughed rather loudly, catching Melisanna's attention.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Did you not read all of the note?"

"Yes, why?"

"I think you know why." Her eyes drifted over towards the basement door, hovering there for a second until Melisanna caught the drift.

"Ah yes! Forgive me, I had momentarilly forgotten. Please, wait a moment."

Returning moments later from the basement, Melisanna locked it tightly, placing the key down the top of her dress. Placing a leather bound, heavy looking book upon the dusty counter, she pushed it further towards Lucielle.

"Your father may find this of some use. It's not all the information he needs, but it is very useful in finding a cure." Smiling sympathetically, Melisanna let Lucielle take the book, watching Martin with steely eyes as Lucielle placed it in her pack.

"What is in that book?" Martin asked, once away from the shop.

"A cure, for my fathers disease." A simple answer, with the obvious signs that it was not a topic to be breached into.

"Oh..."

"You know, my father thinks that I will end up marrying you."

"Really?"

"Yes. He does not approve of the idea. He says that I should go for better than a farmers son."

"Uhm..."

"I shouted a string of bad insults, before I informed him that I wouldn't be marrying anyone anyway. He was most displeased."

"Okay then, Well, lets do something entertaining!" Casting a hopeful smile towards her, he grinned as she smiled at his playfulness.

"Lets go then."

Five years old. An age too young to have to lose her mother. Devastation had hit her hard, in a excrutiating wave of pain. A pain that went beyond the capabilities of her senses. After endless hours of crying in the shoddy corner of her room in the small cottage, Lucielle had catapulted into a state of shock at the appearence of tall, loud men with large weapons.

They were kind, claiming to be guards of the Skingrad city. Out of the corner of her green eyes, she had watched a well dressed man place a blanket over her mother, to hide the face of the dead. Taking her from her home, they had taken her on a long journey to the large city, up to the larger home at the top of the hill.

Captivated by the size of the castle, Lucielle paid no attention to the hostility the strange man with red eyes had sent towards her. In fact, over the years, the cold demeanor changed to the kind, unexpected warm person who enjoyed making his daughter laugh. Of course, when one did not know Janus, then one did not know how kind he could be... That is, when one has unpeeled all the layers of the man who hid his feelings exceptionally well.

She was told to tell people that her father was over protective. That was why she had never left Skingrad, unless accompanied by Toutius Sextius. She was told to tell people that she was a high class citizen, living in Rosethorn Hall in Skingrad. Of course, these were to be told if she ever left the castle.

Her father was not a very important figure to Skingrad. Her father did not like to be disrupted from his study purely to see her smile at a spell she had learned. Her father was overprotective, the reason for her being concealed was purely because he was scared he would lose her.

And her father, was most certainly not the vampire Count of Skingrad.

But then again, a lie is easier than being forced to admit the truth.

The fifteenth time he saw her, was fifteen months after their first meeting. Visiting only once a month, Martin found himself incredibley lonely a few days after she would leave, and waiting anxiously for her to visit again. However, his mind always wondered aobut her mysterious past. She knew everything about him, it would seem, yet when the topic hovered over to her past, it was skipped and avoided successfully.

And so Martin decided to do some digging. Well, not literally.

And the facts he was presented with, were not the ones he expected.

"Hey Martin!" Her voice, crisp and sweet, floated through the air towards his ears. Against his will, a wide smile spread across his face as he turned to face her, the stinging loneliness being crushed and dissipated.

"Hello, your father with Count Goldwine again?"

"Yes... But if that means I get to come here and see you, then i'm fine!" Her grin, highly contagious, brightened his spirits.

"Can I uh... Talk to you about something?"

"Yes, of course." They had started their usual walk, towards the graveyard, around the church, and then a full circle of the city. Lucielles pace was slow as she waited for Martin to speak.

"My mother works alongside Count Goldwine as his stewardess. I was... curious, so I asked her about a visitor that comes to the Count once a month, on a certain day. According to my mother, the only man who visits the same day you do, is the Count of Skingrad. Care to explain?" Eyes drifting over towards Lucielle, Martin noticed her smile had dropped, her eyesbrows creased together. Her brow furrowed, deep concentration written on her face.

Quite quickly, her face had relaxed completeley as she slowly stood up, holding her hand out towards Martin.

"I think... It is time I told someone the truth about my past... But I cannot tell you it here, in the middle of a bustling city. Follow me."

Leading him out of the town, Martins curiosity had peaked, intruigment battling inside his mind. At the bottom of the road to Kvatch, Lucielle sat herself down on a large boulder, her hand still clapsed with Martins.

"My mother served Count Janus Hassildor many years ago, as his chief advisor. Even though the Counts wife was ill, stuck in a coma from which she was recently awakened, the Count found my mother... irresistable. I assume I do not need to explain to you how a child is made?" Martin blushed furiously, worse than normal as the question was accompanied by a sarcastic raised eyebrow.

"No, no you do not..."

"Good. My mother was sacked at the news of her pregnancy, but given a cottage in the depths of the Great Forest. I lived comfortably with my mother, until she was attacked by a timber wolf. She died the same night, in pure agony. I was taken from that cottage, and sent to live with my father. Count Hassildor. At first, he was cold, despicable and horrible. I found him emotionless, and his red eyes scared me every time I was forced to look into them. But after a while, he became kinder, warmer. But I was never allowed out of the Castle. After all, the disgrace it would bring, to find out that the Count of Skingrad had an illegitimate child. I was told to never let anyone know. The only people who knew, were the Emperor, my mother, and the occupants of Castle Skingrad. And now, you are also one who knows. Please, keep this information to yourself." Her smile was sad, corrupted.

"What about Lady Rona? You said she woke from her coma."

"Ah yes. Feeling the need to help my father, I procured a cure for Vampirism for her. Yes, my father and step mother are vampires. She woke, but the lack of human blood in her system, mixed with the ingredients of the potion, caused a reaction which made her die on the spot. My father grieved for days." Another sad smile left her lips, Her hair shadowing her face.

Martin sighed, hesitantly putting an arm around her shoulder. Her small frame fit perfectly in the curve of his arm, his heart thumping at the contact.

He was trapped in the chapel, the air humid as a result of the raging fires outside. The thick, suffocating scent of rotting, burning corpses creeped in under the Chapel doors. Thankful that they were protected from the weaker Daedra, Martin looked over at the few people in the chapel. A guard, and about five residents. As far as he knew, the only survivors of what used to be a glorious, magnificent town. The appearence of the Oblivion Gate had been sudden, the guard bareley had time to realize what was going on before half of the town was destroyed.

Guessing that these were the last days he would spend alive, Martin considered the possibility of getting a message to others. Lucielle had not been able to visit the month before. Unusual, as she had never missed a visit in five years. Rumours had circulated that the Count of Skingrad had a daughter, and Martin wondered if the vampire had finally let Lucielles identity to be known throughout Skingrad. Apparently, he had announced it by holding audience once more, with Lucielle by his side. Martin sighed and hoped to Akatosh she hadn't been in the town at the time of the attack. If, for some unexplainable reason, they were to survive, If Martin looked amongst the bodies of the dead and saw her lifeless face reflected up at him, he was sure he would die before Hassildor got the chance to kill him.

Twisting on his heel sharply, everyone in the room turned their heads towards the Chapel doors. Something was pushing them, attempting to break the barricade that they had made. Creaking, the doors started to slowly move, the barricade they had set up rendered completely useless. The guard drew her sword, ordering them all to the back of the chapel. They did so, hiding behind alters and barrels.

The doors burst open loudly, yet the guard surprised them all by sheathing her sword. All the civilians instantly huddled closer to their hiding place, breathing a sigh of relief when the rest of the town guard burst through the chapel doors, surrounding the lone guard, quizzing her.
Wandering in behind them, a look of worry splashed across her blood spattered face, came Lucielle.

Her green eyes skimmed across the chapel, before she moved further in, able to see the faces of the survivors. Her eyes froze on Martin, relief washing over her at the sight of his tired, scared face. Making her way over towards him, she punched him hard in the gut, her look of relief turning into one of anger. Then, quite quickly, and certainly unexpectedly, she hugged him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

"I leave you for two months and look at what you get yourself into. You know, I was almost sick when I arrived at the camp to see that you weren't there, and then for a priest to tell me you were most likely dead?" Shaking her head in his chest, she refrained from aiming another well placed punch to his abdomen.

Instead of answering, he only held her tighter, muttering a silent 'sorry' into her ear.

She had met back up with him outside the town, in the small encampment area. Having been sent to help clear out the remaining daedra from the entire town, she had sat herself down on the grass next to him covered in even more blood, with thrice the wounds she had when he saw her in the chapel.

A low sigh escaped her lips, before she turned to face him. A look of worry was on her face, accompanied with a look of sorrow.

"Yesterday morning, I was arrested in the Imperial City. This morning, the Emperor passed through my cell, to be led out of a secret escape route. He was being chased by assassins. They killed him. Before he died, he told me to take the Amulet of Kings to Jauffre, and then to find the lost heir." Her voice was smooth, close to breaking. Martin, shocked at the news of the Emperors death, thought for a moment.

"So, this means that we won't be seeing each other again?"

"Not for a while. I have this strange feeling, like I need to help the empire. So i'm probably going to have to spend alot of time with this heir to the Dragon Throne. Probably doing things for him."

A strange wave of jealousy washed over him, almost causing him to pull a face. Yet his face remained still, seemingly unfazed by the information.

"Okay then."

"Try not to get yourself killed in my absence. I hope to see you soon!" Placing a swift, perfect kiss upon his unsuspecting lips, she stood up. Whistling, her horse trotted over, letting Lucielle clamber up onto her.

The dust from the horses fast hooves had long settled before Martin recovered from his state of shock. Funnily enough, his surge of jealousy dissipated.

Staring at the Grandmaster, Lucielle almost fell backwards over the chair behind her.

"Are you... Serious?"

"Yes. I do not believe that the attack on Kvatch was merely a coincidence. I believe it was an attempt to kill the Emperors son. His name is Martin, he is a-"

"Priest in the chapel of Akatosh. His father is a farmer, his mother a former blade and the now perished steward to Count Goldwine. He has the same eyes as his father, and dark brown hair. Oh, and he's twenty-two years old." Lucielle collapsed onto the chair, her eyes staring out the window.

"Yes. That is exactly correct. How do you know?"

"Because... He's my best friend. I fell in love with the emperors son. Five years of friendship will do that to you." Shaking her head, her eyes were cast downwards, the shock lingering. "I've just come from Kvatch... I was so worried..."

"Well, now you can bring him back here. Quickly, before the assassins have another chance at getting to Martin." Jauffre turned a page in his book, his eyes shifting over to Lucielle.

"I assure you, that will not happen. Not while I'm still breathing..." Still stunned, Lucielle left the priory with haste, her cloak billowing behind her. Rain spattered down around her, as she forced her horse to go south through the wilderness, cutting out the long, winding roads.

He was still arguably shocked from their last encounter when he saw Lucielle again. Her dark hair had been flattened, hanging straight down her back in a stiff way. Searching throughout the camp, she had grabbed his upper elbow, dragging him ungracefully outside.

"You. We need to talk." Her voice was low, a string of stunment dripping of her words.

"What's wrong, Lucielle?" His question was innocent, yet the force she put into sitting him down on a rock was far from gentle. His eyes locked with hers as he read the emotions behind her pupils. Of all the powerful things she was feeling, fascination radiated the strongest.

"You remember I told you about the task the emperor had given me before he died?" Her voice was cracking, astonishment seeping through those tiny cracks.

"Yes..."

"I went to the man that Uriel Septim told me to go to. And I found out who the Emperors son is."

Drawn in, Martin looked at her, waiting for her to tell him. Intrigued as he was, he also felt a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach. It made him want to vomit, yet at the same time, it made him want to shout in glee for something he knew nothing about.

"Who is it?"

"You."

Smile fading, Martin stared at her, cynical about her words. Impossible. There was no way- yet something inside him told him she was telling the truth- that he was the Emperors son.

"You think the Emperor was my father? If all this is part of a divine plan Lucielle, I don't think I want to have anything to do with it."

"The daedra came here for you." Her voice was steady now; Martin was starting to believe her.

"An entire city destroyed to get at me? Why?!"

"Why the hell are you asking me?! Look Martin, why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know. It's strange. But I believe you."

"Finally! Now, pack whatever you have and come with me."

"I have nothing..."

"Even better! Now come, I want you to get on my horse first." Her captivating, irresistable smile flittered across her face, letting Martin bend to her will. Sitting upon the black horse, he felt her body climb up behind him. Pushing back the urge to blush, he gripped the horses mane tightly as she sped off towards the forest.

Lucielle had spent the most of the next few months by his side, leaving only to do missions for him or Jauffre. Always volunteering. Always willing to put her life in danger.

Martin mostly wondered why she did it. Why would she run wounded, sick and tired into a dangerous mission without a second thought, for him? And then his mind would wander back to the fleeting kiss she had given him, shortly after she had closed the first Oblivion gate.
Jauffre, it seemed, knew exactly why. He would raise an eyebrow at Martin when he flushed at Lucielles contact, and wear a smug smirk when she started to stutter around him. Jauffre knew that Lucielle was completeley, and hopelessly in love with Martin. He was not aware, however, that Martin was in the exact same predicament.

Which was why, on the fateful day that they were sent to relight the Dragonfires, he was as shocked as Lucielle when Martin had grabbed her and kissed her, the seemingly last kiss Martin would give her, before he sacrificed himself to save the empire.

He had led the sobbing, distraught Lucielle out of the Temple of the one, begging her to lower her screams of fury at the dragon statue. Oh, he was almost twice as shocked as Lucielle a few months later, when the stark naked body of Martin Septim had appeared with a loud 'crack' in the middle of the Cloud Ruler Temple courtyard. More precisely, in the middle of the two sparring blades. Unfortunatley for them, the two blades had become very shocked at the appearence of their naked emperor, and had fallen ungracefully ontop of him in a heap.

Needless to say, Lucielle had doubled over from laughter, Jauffre felt mildy embarressed. The two blades were massively embarressed, and Martin... Well, he certainly didn't care about his nakedness. He was more concerned about kissing the face off Lucielle. And around that time, Janus Hassildor had arrived at Cloud Ruler Temple, concerned about the fact that he had not seen his daughter in over five months. He certainly wasn't happy with what he saw.

Jauffre, having left the Imperial Palace and it's royal family, resumed his position as priest in the Weynon Priory Chapterhouse. Lucielle and Martin had been sad to hear the news, yet allowed him to leave anyway. He would keep the position of Grandmaster of the Blades.
Baurus and Caroline were to be moved to the Palace, to 'protect the Emperor and his family'.

Wrapping his arms around Lucielles waist, he rested his chin on her shoulder, placing a tender kiss to her neck.

"I wonder, what would your father say to you marrying me, now that I am the Emperor?"