The Epic, Ultimate, Unlike-No-Other,
It is a day of mixed emotions for Cyrodiil. No, scratch that—it is a day of mixed emotions for Tamriel! That's more like it. On one hand, we have cause to celebrate. After all, the Oblivion invasion is quelled, the Daedra repelled, and Mehrunes Dagon thrust back to the very pit of Hell from whence he came. Yet, on the other hand… we have no leader! Just when we were SO CLOSE to victory, the conveniently available long-lost heir of the Dragonblood DIES! Oh, sure, his death saved the world, but he DIED! DEAD! PERMANENTLY DEAD!
And none of us is taking this harder than our well-lauded Heroine of Kvatch. See her now, how she sits curled on the foot of the great stone dragon, arms wrapped around its cold leg. Tears run down her cheeks, coursing down over her parched, cracked lips before splashing onto the dragon's giant claws.
We see her squeeze her eyes shut, evidently trying to push from her mind that all-too-fresh memory of the heroic yet horribly tragic sacrifice. Her shoulders shake noticeably as she cries harder, clinging tightly to the monument to our young Emperor's noble, selfless death. Even Chancellor Ocato fails to notice her agony; he's too busy celebrating the defeat of the Daedra and also his new power. Boo hiss.
As for our Heroine, we see her there anyway, clinging to the dragon in spite of her gouged armor and bleeding flesh. It isn't until some of the Blades arrive that she leaves, but even then they must forcibly lead her away as she cries. The townspeople are shocked! They haven't known that she possesses such intrinsically human emotions, and such a capability for love and loss! But we see that this shall not be a scar easily healed.
That evening, Ocato hosts a celebratory banquet in the Imperial Palace for the Heroine, Jauffre, the Blades, and a few other generally awesome people. Oh, and the rest of the Elder Council. Them too. The Heroine dines in silence, eyes downcast. She is dressed for the occasion in a lovely gown, but bandages are noticeable on her body, she moves stiffly, and her sword remains strapped at her side. Yes, even with the dress. Even with being named Champion of Cyrodiil, she is in no way cheerful. Solemnly, she eats her meal, speaking to no one and drinking more wine than any person probably should at a high-end dinner party. The mood is somber—at least at her end of the table.
But, suddenly, the doors to the banquet hall fly open as… No! It can't be! But it is! By the Nine! It's Martin! He looks as though he has only just left Cloud Ruler Temple and none of this has happened yet! He is dressed in the Emperor's Robe, which is clean, spotless, and as elegant as always; why, even the Amulet of Kings gleams from around his neck! It's a miracle!
"My apologies for being late," he announces ever so cheerfully and with a wide smile, much to Ocato's horror.
The dinner guests stare in shock. This cannot be! But it is! Somehow… he's alive! This turn of events particularly shocks the Heroine, who leaps from her seat at the table and races to him, throwing herself into his arms. It is a tearful reunion as the two share a deep kiss. Awwwww…!! But after a minute or five, aware than an entire banquet hall full of people are watching them, they pull back. The Heroine searches Martin's eyes, holding his face in her hands, shaking.
"I—I—I thought you were dead!" she cries, eyes watery.
Martin blinks, gently squeezing her waist as he gazes as her with wide, innocent eyes not quite befitting the Emperor of the Tamrielic Empire.
"I was," he replies simply, "but I got better."