#adelaide darrell

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hey so remember when i said that i wrote something small about the final scene in the oblivion mq and maybe i’d clean it up and post it? well, i found it, so here’s this bullshit

also i was wrong and addie kissed martin and not the other way around whoops also i’m sorry i didn’t edit it very much and it’s like a million years old

thank you for reading!!! and massive thanks to the absolutely amazing @yesiwasinthechessclub for the encouragement :> ao3 link here!

"Remember when we first met at Kvatch?" Martin asked, and she nodded with a wistful half-smile. That had been a simpler time, when there was simply good and evil. Maybe standing inside the almost certainly soon-to-be ruined Temple of the One while Mehrunes Dagon rampaged around just outside was not the best place to have a reminiscent discussion, but she trusted Martin, and so she offered no protest. 

"I told you I wanted no part of a divine plan. I still don't know if there is one. But I've realized that it doesn't matter. What matters is that we act. That we do what's right when confronted with evil. That's what you did at Kvatch. It wasn't the gods that saved us, it was you. Maybe you were acting for the gods, I don't know. But now it's my turn to act." He smiled at her, that blindingly bright smile that made her smile gently back, even as a sense of finality and a bit of dread settled over her shoulders. "Thank you, Adelaide." 

If she knew Martin well enough, and she should certainly hope that she did, then there was some sort of secret plan he had worked out that she certainly wasn't going to like. And by the aura of calm acceptance that had settled over him - her love, her best friend - it seemed as if it would be some sort of desperate heroic sacrifice. For one stupid, selfish moment, she thought that she should grab him and run, but there will be nothing to run to if they cannot fix this. 

He turned to walk away, to head toward the Dragonfires, and she knew she ought to let him go, but she couldn't be bothered to care about 'shoulds’ and 'oughts’ when Martin was about to do something incredibly, irrevocably stupid, so she grabbed his sleeve. 

"Be safe, Martin," she said, and before she could curb her utterly idiotic impulsiveness, she kissed him, surprising them both. It was brief and intense and he kissed her right back, something that she would later chalk up to adrenaline - no one as wonderful and kind and good as he was would ever be fool enough to care for her. 

He gave her the most heart-breaking smile she had ever seen and walked away, and a moment later her world burst into blinding light.

-

thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed!!! :>

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what if martin like. kisses adelaide

i’m pretty sure nirn implodes b/c they’re not allowed to be happy :thinking:

less in the vein of cat being ridiculous, in my original draft of her story i had martin kiss her right before turning into a dragon but that almost felt crueler than having them never mention feelings and just being mutually pining dorks lol

this ask made me really happy and i’ve been seriously considering not answering it to just keep it in my ask box forever :’)

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Martin Mantles Sanguine (3/?)

now, you’re probably thinking to yourself, Cat, isn’t there already a chapter 3? and you’d be right, but i didn’t like it so i redid it from scratch :> fight scenes are still hard and i still don’t love it but i’m much happier with it and it’s much more fleshed out than the original, so thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy!!!

ao3 link for this chapter here. ao3 link to the whole story here. first chapter on tumblr here. second chapter on tumblr here. phew.

Mehrunes Dagon was, for lack of a better word, monstrous. He towered over the city, massive and red and four-armed and right in front of the temple they needed to get to. Adelaide felt her breath catch in her chest even as Sheogorath grinned at the thought of the fight ahead. 

Some part of her had always known Akatosh had spoken the truth, that they would need to fight and defeat Mehrunes Dagon in order to see their task done, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality. They were fighting a god. It seemed an impossible task, even changed as they had become. He would destroy them, as befitted the Prince of Destruction. 

But before her thoughts could overwhelm her, Martin pressed a gentle hand to her elbow. When she turned to him, his smile was intensely comforting, and for a moment, it didn’t matter that they had fundamentally changed who they were in order to have a fight that they might still lose. A fight against a very real, very large, very angry god. “It will be all right,” he said, and for that moment she believed him. And even when she finally turned her gaze back to Mehrunes Dagon, everything seemed a little bit less dire than before. 

Yes, Dagon was still a monster, stories upon stories tall, with four bulky arms and an axe for each of them, cutting down friend and foe alike as he reveled in the chaos, but maybe their own godly powers would be enough. She could hope. When Mehrunes Dagon roared again, Adelaide felt less of an urge to give up and despair, and when the thunder cracked and rain finally poured down, she nearly felt confident. She might not have the best handle on her newfound powers, but she’d have the benefit of them being at their height. 

Of course, they still had to survive the fight. Which, she thought, staring at Dagon’s massive axes, might be easier said than done. He had competence with his powers that they couldn’t hope to match, not to mention centuries - no, millennia - of experience. 

Not that it mattered at this point. The battle would happen, and they would succeed or perish. Adelaide felt her resolve strengthen with that ultimatum as she helped Martin push open the massive doors to the Temple District. (The process was made easier than normal by the large chunks of the door that had burnt away or otherwise were no longer attached.) 

The moment that they stood before Dagon, unobstructed by buildings or walls, he turned his gaze to them and shrieked, and Adelaide felt her blood curl even as Sheogorath had to stifle a cackle. “Sheogorath! Sanguine! You would bar my path? Impede my victory? You would dare?” 

His outrage pushed her amusement over the edge, and Sheogorath couldn’t stifle the laughter that bubbled out of her. Next to her, Sanguine smirked ever so slightly, but their amusement was quickly dampened when Dagon roared again and charged. Adelaide tried not to descend into the despair that roiled within her - one blow from those axes would be enough to incapacitate either one of them, if not worse. Sheogorath couldn’t bear the thought of losing herself again so soon. 

Martin seemed uninhibited by the fear that presently consumed her, and dragged her backward with him as he dodged a heavy swipe of the first of four wicked blades. “Focus,” he implored her, and there was no time to analyze the desperate inflection in his voice as the second axe fell. 

Adelaide might not have known what to do, but Sheogorath, thankfully, did. A spear she had never seen before appeared in her hands, and it was pure instinct that led her to hold it in front of them like a shield. Mehrunes Dagon’s axe bounced harshly off of the Spear of Bitter Mercy and collided with the third one he was aiming at them. He howled. Her arms rattled with the force of the impact, but whatever protective magic was in the spear held. 

The fourth axe came from nowhere, and this time the reflective enchantments on the spear weren’t enough. It shattered into splinters, and the force of the blast was enough to send her tumbling backwards (and Akatosh, being thrown around without her armor to absorb the impact hurt). Her regalia tore and her skin scraped, even as her pseudo-divinity kicked in and stitched up her clothing and closed her cuts. Her reflexes also seemed to have improved, and it was surprisingly easy to stop herself and get back on her feet as she tried to make sure that Martin hadn’t been hit by the blow that had knocked her back.

It seemed that he hadn’t been, but he had stepped forward when she had fallen, and a staff that sent an uncomfortable jolt of recognition through her was now in his hands - the Sanguine Rose. Again, Adelaide cursed the fact that it had come to this, that he had been forced to accept a mantle that he despised with his entire being, that there hadn’t been something she could do to save him this pain. She was jolted back to reality by Sheogorath’s instincts pulling her symbol of office from wherever it remained when not in her hand as petals fell one after another from the Sanguine Rose and the dremora it conjured swarmed toward Dagon. They distracted him for a moment, but then the last petal fell from the Rose and she knew their moment of relative safety wouldn’t last much longer. 

She glanced at the staff in her hand, and the eye nestled in it looked back at her, eerie and unblinking. Akatosh had promised them a chance at victory, but seizing it was up to them. As Mehrunes Dagon kicked the last of the Dremora away and turned his hateful glare back toward them, Adelaide pointed the Staff at him. “Halt,” it yelled, and one of his arms froze in place. 

There was no time for her to dodge any of the other three, and the first one to hit her left a nasty gash through her midsection that would have killed a mortal as it flung her through the air. The resulting impact was nearly as painful, and it took all the willpower and every ounce of power she could muster to keep herself from disseminating into the formless matter that made up all Daedra. She might not be able to die permanently, but the reforming process would take longer than they could afford.

“Adelaide!” Martin shouted as he turned toward her, glancing away from their foe, and it felt like the world moved in slow motion as she saw another one of Dagon’s axes fall toward him. He didn’t see it, and even if he were to notice it at that moment, there wouldn’t be enough time for him to escape its path. Sheogorath wanted to laugh at the thought that she would have a front row seat to the world’s destruction. 

Adelaide wanted to sob. But, more than that, she wanted to push him out of the way, even if it would mean her own - albeit temporary - destruction. Thankfully, someone else did it for her. She watched in shock and awe as her two lieutenants appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and Asani grabbed and forcefully dragged Martin out of the path of the blade as Imal put up her shield to protect them. The Saint’s legs crumpled with the force of the blow and her shield cracked down the center, but her defensive posture never faltered. 

If they had been any less likely to die, Adelaide might have remarked that she had never seen a Mazken and an Aureal work together like that before, much less the heads of her armies, but Dagon roared again, angrier than ever, so commentary would have to wait. The intervention of her lieutenants had bought them enough time to get away from Dagon’s axes and breathe for a moment, but that moment was over and they had to get back into the fight, more seriously this time, or perish and lose the world along with themselves. 

Mehrunes Dagon was advancing on them again, and once more Sheogorath’s Staff appeared in her hands. Adelaide met its gaze for a moment before letting it disappear in favor of another one of her artifacts. The Staff would be of no use to her if it couldn’t stop more than one of his axes for a few moments, but perhaps the Wabbajack would prove somewhat effective. Assuming, of course, it did something in their favor and didn’t create a second Dagon or something. And, of course, assuming she could get a shot to hit him. 

The first blast from her staff dissipated against an axe that Martin stepped in front of her to block with a thin-looking glove. She didn’t know what the artifact was, but its enchantments held and the blow glanced off of it. Martin’s face turned white with the impact and she pretended not to notice the blood dripping from his bare hand - they didn’t have time for concern right now, and she had to trust that he knew what he was doing. (It still hurt her to see.) She sent another burst of magic at Dagon, but again she missed as he moved, and she cursed. 

Asani and Imal appeared at her shoulders, and by some miracle they still seemed to be on the same side. Imal had tossed aside her shattered shield and picked up another sword, encrusted with multi-hued blood, that must have fallen from a soldier. It was impossible to say what army they had belonged to. “Lady Sheogorath,” they said in unison. The effect was disconcerting, not least because of their very different cadences. 

“We will hold him back,” Imal said, short and clipped. “Do what you must.” 

“We will see you when you return to the Isles,” Asani added as Dagon wound up for another strike. “Be well, my Lord.” 

Before she could ask what they were planning or how they were going to hold back a god, they had already rushed forward, savage and graceful as only immortal beings could be. Imal used the flat of her golden sword to launch Asani at Dagon’s shoulder before using her swords to climb up his leg. He flailed and swung axes at both of them, cleaving Imal nearly in two but narrowly missing Asani and cutting open his own chest instead. 

“Do it now!” Martin called to her as he cradled the hand his own artifact had cut open while it healed. Adelaide nodded as she forcibly dragged herself out of the shock of watching the heads of her armies sacrifice themselves without hesitation and fired the Wabbajack once more. This time, the bolt landed true right as Mehrunes Dagon managed to fling Asani off of his shoulder. The Seducer landed on top of a nearby building in a cloud of dust. She didn’t get up again. 

Any further thoughts Adelaide might have spared her lieutenants were consumed in anxiety of what would become of Dagon. He disappeared in a massive red cloud, and when he emerged, he was largely unchanged. Still monstrous, still howling, still four-armed and axe wielding, but now nearer to the size of the average Orc rather than twice the size of the surrounding buildings. At that moment, Adelaide thought she could have wept with joy - this was a much more manageable task - but his anger seemed to only have increased, and he was barreling toward them. 

Martin absorbed the crash with his glove, but she heard his right arm break with a sickening crack. “We need to do something, and fast,” he said, face paling, “because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” 

Damn it all, she had to think, or they would never make it out of this alive, and Tamriel would be lost. Once more, without prompting, the Staff of Sheogorath appeared in her hands. Clivia’s eye that had seen what no one else had stared out at her, and Adelaide had the off-putting feeling that the eye was looking beyond her, and suddenly she understood. 

Sheogorath pointed the staff at Mehrunes Dagon once more as he looked to slice Martin in two, and this time the voice that came from it resonated with power. “Halt!” came the call, and this time Dagon listened. So did, it seemed, every other daedra and mortal on the street. Her foe was too powerful for the enchantment to last, but it bought her the time she needed to pull Martin out of his path and for her instincts to put another weapon in her palms. 

The Sword of Jyggalag was cold and awkward in her hands, and the sudden weight of it caused her to let the tip drop onto the hard cobblestone street. The clang and her blink of surprise seemed enough to break the spell that had fallen over everyone else, and her arms burned with strain as she lifted the incredibly heavy sword just in time to block an axe that would have otherwise taken her head off. 

Akatosh’s blood, Adelaide hated this. She was a novice with a greatsword, particularly one this heavy, and she needed to end this battle quickly if she wanted any hope of surviving. The longer the fight continued, the more her lack of experience would show, and the more opportunities Dagon would have to send her back to her own realm, beaten and broken. She needed an opportunity to go on the offensive and deliver some last-resort attack, but it was all she could do to keep the blade in front of her enough to keep her limbs attached. 

Adelaide took a deep breath as she blocked another axe and her elbows trembled with the force of the blow. She had to trust that Martin had some sort of trick up his sleeve and buy time for him to use whatever it was. And if not - well, no point in worrying about that. If not, they were probably both dead, but dwelling on that right now didn’t seem like the smartest move. 

The impact of her next block made her arms give out completely, and the blade of her greatsword - Jyggalag’s greatsword, and Sheogorath wasn’t sure how she’d gotten it but was giddy with triumph about having it - fell to the ground with a great clang. And just as she came to terms with the fact that she was about to be staring at her body from twenty paces away, Sanguine appeared between her and Dagon, the blood red stone on his necklace clutched in his hand. It radiated the same aura that her staff did, and she knew what it had to be - his symbol of office, Sanguine’s power personified. 

Adelaide had no desire to know what horrors he’d endured to obtain it. 

“Stop,” Sanguine commanded, but instead of being the order that had frozen the street when Clivia’s eye had gazed upon it earlier, his word was more of a suggestion, and a kind of dread pooled in her gut when she realized that she couldn’t lift her arms - nor did she have any desire to, even though moments ago she’d wanted nothing more than to keep fighting. No wonder Martin hadn’t wanted anything to do with Sanguine’s power after whatever he’d experienced. There was little so insidious as warping a person’s desires so they no longer knew what they wanted.  

Dagon snarled, seemingly doing a better job of fighting the enchantment than she was, but his four arms rested at his sides, axes resting on the ground. Sanguine looked at her, idly intense. “End him.” 

Sheogorath felt her arms scream with the strain of hefting Jyggalag’s blade once more, but she couldn’t deny the compulsion to obey. She didn’t know how long the spell would last, so she didn’t waste time with anything that would have destroyed Dagon’s physical form slowly, and instead went straight for his head. 

The roar that Mehrunes Dagon let out would have nearly shocked her into stopping if she had been able to stop herself. Instead, Sheogorath revelled in using one rival’s blade to end another. Adelaide knew how messy and difficult the process of decapitation could be, and this time was no exception, but she forced the sword forward until it met air again and she collapsed next to Dagon’s body as the spell she was under finally broke. 

Martin fell to his knees next to her and Adelaide curled into him, and for a moment they simply watched the world burn around them, content with the knowledge that they had done their part to save it.

-

thank you for reading and i hope you liked it!!! :>

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Martin Mantles Sanguine

So inspired by this absolutely gorgeous artwork and someone’s tags that I cannot for the life of me find (if they were your tags please let me know, I’d love to properly thank you for inspiring me) saying something along the lines of “what if Martin had to mantle Sanguine before the end of the main quest?” I have written some garbage start to a longer story based on that premise. Full thing under the cut! :) It is completely unedited as of now, so I apologize for any mistakes and would like to thank you for reading in advance!

It was the night before they were to head to the Imperial City and see Martin crowned when she had the dream. It was... odd, to say the least, for someone who rarely dreamed to have one that was so very vivid, but even more odd was the content.

When she looked down, Adelaide realized she was not on Nirn anymore - instead, she was in some glowing plane of reality that seemed to have no beginning and no end. The strangest part, however, was the flaming dragon before her, and it got stranger still when the dragon began to speak.

“Adelaide Darrell, the one they call the Hero of Kvatch, know me for who I am.” The fiery creature spoke with a voice that she thought could move mountains or dig canyons. She wasn’t sure if the visceral feeling it left in her gut was terror or awe. “I am Akatosh, and I require your obedience.” That would explain the booming voice and the dragon and the glowing realm. Best to hear him out, then - not that she seemed to have much of a choice. “You are too late. As we speak, the armies of Mehrunes Dagon march on the Imperial City. He will arrive in Tamriel before you can light the Dragonfires, and you cannot fight him as you are.”

This whole thing had gone very quickly from a really interesting dream to a concerningly realistic nightmare. Adelaide tried not to let the fact that she was speaking to one of her gods intimidate her too much. “What should I do?”

The dragon let out a puff of air that could have been exasperation or amusement. She wasn’t sure which option concerned her more. “There is a portal in the middle of the Niben Bay. You must enter it and become something more than yourself. Only a god can defeat another god.”

It seemed that the stereotype of divine beings being infuriatingly cryptic was correct after all. “What about Tamriel? What will become of it while I’m gone?”

Akatosh eyed her, and again Adelaide failed to discern whether it was with approval or distaste. “Time in Oblivion passes differently than it does in Mundus. No Nirn time will pass while you are gone. But you must be swift. Obey me, or Tamriel will fall.” Before she could say anything else - before she could think anything else - he was gone.

For an instant, everything went black and she had the oddest sensation of free-falling through space before she woke with a jolt. She had taken to sleeping on the floor of Martin’s quarters when she was at the temple, but they were as dark as they had been when she went to sleep.

Adelaide breathed heavily for a moment as she tried to think what to do - that had been too clear a dream to ignore outright - when Martin also awoke with a muffled noise.

She was on her feet and at his side in an instant, but the look he gave her as he sat up did little to calm her nerves. “You’ll never believe the dream I had,” he said lightly, but his voice was stiff and she knew he was more troubled than his words implied.

Adelaide met his eyes, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, knew with frightening certainty what his dream had been like. “He came to you too, then,” she whispered. “It was no dream.”

Martin took one of her hands in his and gripped it tightly, and for a moment they stood there in silence before he spoke. “He did. We should go.” But he didn’t move to stand or leave.

Adelaide squeezed back before gently (oh so gently, she could never risk hurting him) pulling hers away and picking her cuirass up off of the floor. “It will be all right. I do not know what this journey shall bring, but we will have one another. But we cannot wait. The situation is dire.”

Martin sighed softly as he stood. “I don’t think we will be together, but you’re correct. We cannot tarry.”

He padded over to his wardrobe as she froze in between straps of her gauntlets. “What do you mean? You aren’t coming to the Niben Bay?”

Martin removed his plain grey priest robe as he shook his head. “I am heading to the Imperial Reserve, north of Skingrad.” His voice was tight, but she wasn’t sure why. Certainly the situation was stressful and sudden and far from ideal, but she got the feeling that there was a memory bothering him.

“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly, pulling up one of her sabatons. But Martin shook his head again as he began to dress and she turned her eyes away.

“I am fine, but it is no matter. You are correct. We cannot delay. We must obey Akatosh.” He was lying and she could tell, but Adelaide didn’t press the issue. As with everything else, Martin would tell her when he felt ready.

They finished their preparations in silence before heading toward the stables. Jauffre was sitting alone in the great hall, and started when he saw them. “Where are you going? We aren’t leaving until the morning.”

Adelaide hesitated, unsure of what to say, but Martin answered for them. “We have been given a task we must complete. We will meet you in the Imperial City tomorrow.” She could tell that Jauffre was distinctly displeased with the idea, but Martin’s tone brokered no argument. The grandmaster tried anyway.

“It isn’t safe, sire. Please at least take an escort if you must leave.”

But Martin shook his head. “We must leave immediately, and we must go alone. Please, my friend, we can waste time no longer.”

Adelaide could pinpoint the exact moment at which Jauffre relented. His eyes dropped and his shoulders sagged as he heaved a deep sigh. “Very well. Do what you must. We will be waiting for you. Gods-speed, sire.”

Martin took the older man’s hands in his and smiled gently. “Thank you, Jauffre.”

Adelaide tried not to think too hard about what would happen if they didn’t succeed - that was irrelevant, now. They would win, or they would die, and so would everyone else.

She and Martin saddled and mounted their horses quietly. Any attempts at small-talk died quickly - they had become very close over the last few weeks, but the situation was too serious for them to distract themselves with idle conversation. Their ride, too, was quiet and tense as they listened for bandits or cultists or worse. But as tense as it was, the end was more difficult still.

Adelaide clasped Martin’s arm gently as he turned his horse toward the hills. “Be safe.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “I do not know what Akatosh asked of you or why it torments you so, but you can overcome this.” She swallowed heavily and didn’t meet his eyes. “I will see you soon.”

But before she could turn away, Martin pulled her into an awkwardly positioned almost-embrace. “Thank you, Adelaide. For everything. Stay safe, and we will meet again soon.” Despite her discomfort, she held him until he pulled away.

“Until then, Martin.” And despite every instinct she had screaming at her to ride with him, to help him, to protect her emperor from the dangers that were assuredly ahead, she turned her horse down the road and continued to ride.

Thankfully, it was only another two hours’ ride to the bay, and the time passed uneventfully. (Akatosh’s protection? Perhaps.)

As Adelaide approached the gates to Bravil, she could make out a distant, shining object in the center of the bay. Whatever Akatosh had been telling her of, no doubt. With a slight sigh, she dismounted and loosely looped Antinea’s reins around a tree next to the stables. “I’ll return soon,” she told the horse. “If there’s danger, run.”

With that, she waded into the bay, intensely grateful that she was a strong swimmer. The glowing object in the center of the bay was far, but not unreachable, and became clearer the closer she got. As she approached, Adelaide realized it was actually an island with a portal in the center.

Her blood chilled when she heard the voice commanding her to enter - Akatosh had sent her to a Daedra. (Martin too, most likely - an even more concerning thought.) But she was nothing if not loyal, and after a moment to steel herself, she stepped into the door.

Later, Adelaide would swear she had spent weeks inside the glowing door. But to any outside observers, she had only just entered the portal when Sheogorath emerged, tilted her head slightly, and laughed.

A moment later, she shook her head as if to clear it and stood up straight, looking completely changed from a few seconds before. A staff topped with a rolling eyeball appeared in her hand for a moment before it disappeared again as she turned her gaze toward the Imperial City.

A storm was rolling in.

--

That’s all I have for now, but I’ve been on a roll writing this and have already started the next part, so if people are interested I’ll probably put that up too! Thank you for reading and I really hope you enjoyed! :D

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Martin Mantles Sanguine (3/?)

hi friends i return with a really short update because i am hardstuck with where to go with this story and i’ve been sitting on this bit for a long time and yeah here’s this i guess

thank you in advance for reading as always and i really hope you enjoy! :)

Dagon towered over the Imperial City, visible even over the rows of buildings between them and him - and the door to the Temple of the One. She’d known, deep down, that Akatosh had not lied, that they would fight Mehrunes Dagon for Tamriel, but she hadn’t been prepared for the reality of it. 

The Prince of Destruction was massive, a blood-red monster with four arms and an axe for each one, cutting mortals and enemy Daedra and even his own out of his path as he stepped closer to the two new Princes. Each footfall made the ground shake, and the tremors only got worse the closer he became. 

His face wore an expression of the deepest hatred when he saw them, but Sheogorath told her that was pretty standard for him. “Sheogorath! Sanguine!” Dagon bellowed. “You dare interfere in my plans?” 

He hurled a massive axe at them, but before she could even react, a spear was in her hand. Adelaide had no idea what to do with it other than put it in between her and Martin and the axe, but she hadn’t moved before Martin had an elaborately embroidered glove on. He held up the hand with it on, and the axe was deflected from an invisible barrier in front of them. He then made a tossing motion with the same hand, and the axe flung back toward the god from which it had come. (A useful trinket, that glove - Sheogorath wondered if he’d let her borrow it.)

Mehrunes Dagon caught the axe, and there was a moment of tense silence as the three Daedric Princes stared at one another. Finally, Dagon howled with rage, and the battle began in earnest. Adelaide obeyed whichever of Sheogorath’s instincts that told her to point the spear at the ground and summon an atronach - it was massive, perhaps a side product of a Prince using the artifact -, and then raise it to block an incoming strike of one of Dagon’s axes. The Spear of Bitter Mercy shuddered under the impact, but held, and Mehrunes Dagon screamed with anger again. Next to her, Martin wore an expression that looked like horror as he stared at the staff in his hand - the Sanguine Rose. 

Her first thought was to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but that was very clearly out of the question when any sort of lapse in concentration could cost them their lives and potentially all of Tamriel. Instead, Adelaide swept his feet out from under him as she ducked beneath another swipe of Dagon’s axes, narrowly ensuring that both of their heads remained attached to the rest of them. 

This seemed to snap Martin out of his thoughts, and he used the Rose to summon a Dremora, and then more. Without bidding, the Staff of Sheogorath appeared in her hand, and suddenly Adelaide knew what to do. 

“Halt!” The Staff screamed in a voice that was all at once hers and Sheogorath’s and Jyggalag’s. All around them, the tides of battle ceased as Daedra and mortal alike were frozen in place by her will. 

Mehrunes Dagon strained visibly against her enchantment, and Adelaide knew she had to work quickly - there was no way to tell how long her Voice would hold him in place. With a final glance at her staff - amazing how her entire godhood was contained in a tree branch and a frantically rolling eyeball - it was swapped out for something less gruesome and more recognizable. Gods, she hoped this worked on Daedric Princes, but there was no time to test it. (She also hoped it didn’t backfire horribly, but her chances were good enough for it to be worth the risk.)

Sheogorath pointed the Wabbajack at Mehrunes Dagon and prayed. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, in a cloud of red dust, Dagon disappeared, only to be replaced with a person-sized version of himself as time snapped back into itself and he screamed and charged toward her. Adelaide had barely let her instincts swap the Wabbajack for Jyggalag’s blade in time to block the first of a flurry of strikes the other Prince hurled at her. 

Suddenly, it was all she could do to keep backing up as she blocked blow after blow from Dagon’s axes, which almost seemed to be everywhere at once. Adelaide bit her lip harshly as she tried to figure out a plan, but there was nothing she could do while struggling to keep her head on like this. 

And even that might not last too much longer, she thought wryly to herself as Dagon trapped the blade of her greatsword between two of his axes and hacked at her now-exposed neck with the other two while she bent backwards out of the way. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about her impending decapitation for too much longer. 

“Stop.” The command came from Sanguine, who had a glowing, blood-red pendant wrapped around his hand. Adelaide watched in awe as Dagon froze and let his four axes drop, but she could still control her own movements, and wrenched away her sword and herself while she had the chance. Martin turned to her then, and she felt her chest constrict at the hypnotic look in his eyes. “We need to finish this,” he said, and Adelaide wasn’t sure if it was her own instincts or the persuasive powers of the Bloodstone that made her heft the greatsword she’d pried from Jyggalag’s hands and cleave Mehrunes Dagon in two.

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I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!

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so some of you might recall this post (an absolutely awesome post btw) from @martin-lachance and i just needed to write it so here’s this garbage cause i don’t have shame or apparently any sort of self control. full deal (it’s short though) under the cut as always and i hope you enjoy! (also i swapped baurus with jauffre cause i thought he’d fit better so yeah i hope that’s okay)

Adelaide frowned down at her phone for the third time in as many minutes. Martin was late to the officer’s meeting of their small history club and he hadn’t called as he promised he would if the student council meeting ran late. (The council had the honor of using the nicest building on campus for their meetings. This also meant that Martin was ten minutes late to their meetings on a good day, as it was on the other side of campus. Twenty minutes after four and today seemed to not be a good day.)

She sighed and pushed her phone away so she couldn’t be tempted to look at it and began rummaging through her bag instead. They couldn’t very well start the meeting without their president, so she might as well get a head start on her homework. Across the table from her, Baurus had already started his, and he was presently alternating between loud slurps of his icee and looking through his notes. 

Jauffre, their official ‘adult moderator’, had shut himself in his office to do work until Martin arrived. 

Adelaide was still digging through her backpack in what was an apparently fruitless attempt to find a pen when her phone rang in the familiar tune she’d set what felt like years ago. Her head popped over the table just as Baurus picked up her phone from where she’d pushed it not two minutes earlier. 

“You still call your dad ‘daddy’?” He asked with a slightly teasing tone as he passed her phone to her. 

Oh. Right. 

Shit. 

She’d forgotten that she’d changed that contact name. 

Play it cool, play it cool, she told herself furiously. Unfortunately, Adelaide Darrell, Grade A Massive Nerd, was not known for playing it cool, but it seemed the gods were with her this day. Some massive wave of confidence she didn’t have made her make direct contact with her fellow officer as she answered the call. 

“Hey, Martin.” 

Across the table from her, Baurus choked on his icee and started a coughing fit so loud Adelaide was shocked Jauffre hadn’t come running into the room. 

“I’m very sorry, but the meeting ran really late, I only just got out. Is everything okay there? There’s a lot of noise on your end.”

Adelaide raised an eyebrow at Baurus as his coughing fit finally began to calm. “Everything’s fine. I’ll see you in ten.”

She could hear her boyfriend’s smile on the other end of the line. “In ten.”

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Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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🖊 for adelaide !!!!

she’s perfect and i love her. that’s it. that’s the whole answer.

anywho i apologize for taking so long with this, have some FACTS

-Small and overprotective (contrast with her cousin, who is small and angry)

-Will fight you if you even look at Martin the wrong way... forget it if you ever say anything mean about him

-This is kind of unconscious, but she would do a lot if it meant getting her parents’ approval. Kind of feeding into this, she has a pretty desperate need for people to be happy with her and has a hard time saying no to anyone asking her to do anything

-Took Azura’s Star as the Daedric artifact (I wrote pieces of an AU where she contracts vampirism as a result of that, that was fun)

-Nothing at all ever happens between her and Martin. They’re very close friends and she’s completely head over heels for him but neither one of them ever makes any sort of a move and it remains just that

-Let’s talk about her death! She has a really hard time dealing with Martin’s death and spends a lot of time in the Temple of the One after the whole “dragon statue” thing, and eventually he starts appearing to her in dreams and going “Adelaide pls” and she kind of pulls herself together and goes on adventuring and just ~heroing~ you know

-She still feels kind of weird physically speaking but mostly attributes it to extreme grief, not to mention that she put her body through a lot during the time she was the HoK (hint: it was not extreme grief)

-There’s still a lot of festering guilt about what happened with Martin and she kind of just... avoids the Blades. She can’t bear to look either Jauffre or Baurus in the eye and just generally feels like a failure... people calling her the champion or hero or w/e just make it worse

-So during this time she makes an effort to help all the people who have been affected by the Oblivion Crisis and just ends up kind of becoming a hero to the people, but almost more of a myth than a real person b/c she’ll just show up when you need a hand, help you, and then leave after refusing any sort of payment

-Although after a while when what she thinks are her grief symptoms aren’t getting better and are actually getting a lot worse she decides to head back to the Imperial City and see if she can figure out what’s wrong with her

-Turns out spending that much time in the Deadlands is in fact very bad for one’s health and she basically got poisoned from it

-She dies really soon afterwards because it was way too far to be cured and she waited way too long to ask anyone about what was going on but at least she dies as she wants to: sitting by Martin’s dragon statue :)

wow her story is kind of a tragedy huh lol

sorry again that this took so long but thank you so much for the ask and i hope you enjoyed hearing me blab more about addie c:

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Your writing is so cool and interesting!!! I'm especially interested in the Martin in Skyrim au hehehe

This is... really nice of you to say, I’m so incredibly touched you have no idea! I really appreciate it, thank you so much!

So some more fun facts about this AU: Adelaide does not get along with Delphine at all and straight up tells Martin to force push her when she asks for proof that he’s the Dragonborn, Martin and Adelaide pretend to be married for the Thalmor Embassy with all of the shenanigans that entails, Adelaide fights everyone who even looks at Martin in a way she doesn’t like, her and Martin have a private laugh (or several) when Esbern tries to educate them about the Oblivion Crisis, Adelaide may or may not have barehandedly scaled the mountains to Skuldafn after Odahviing refuses to take her.

I’ve written pieces of it, I’ll clean it up a little bit and post it if I’m feeling brave enough! :D