This story is based of my playthrough of Skyrim Romance Mod. I really recommend playing it, or watching a someone else play it. I really fell in love with the characters, and I couldn't help but write a few drabbles for it.
I don't own anything but Astia. Everything else is property of Bethesda and other people who are not me.
Rated M for violence and sexual themes.
Bishop was familiar with Riverwood. Enough so that the people there didn't consider him a complete stranger, and he knew his way around.
But he didn't recognize the woman with the dark hair that came passing through that day...
Everyone she passed greeted her with a kind familiarity, as if she was some kind of princess.
He immediately disliked her.
When she approached the tavern door he stood beside, he couldn't help but make a jab at her.
"Ah, and who's this?" He drawled, his amber eyes lazily raking over her, unimpressed. She was pretty enough with her slim, curvaceous body and fair skin; he couldn't deny it. But he'd seen more than enough women like her; women who thought they could get whatever they wanted simply by batting their eyelashes. "I swear the villagers treat you like nobility. If you're looking for someone to kiss your boots, I suggest asking elsewhere."
She turned to regard him, giving him the same look of disdain. Her eyes were a soft shade of green, and now that she was facing him fully, he caught a glimpse of the long scar on her cheek. It looked as if someone had taken a dagger and sliced from just below her left cheekbone to her chin. Maybe that's exactly what happened.
She looked him up and down. "You're a tracker, yes?"
His eyebrows lowered. "That depends. Who's asking?"
"I am." She brushed her dark braid over her shoulder. "Are you available for hire?"
He crossed his arms. "What does a wench like you need a tracker for, anyway? I'm not going out to fetch your long lost lover that just couldn't stand to be around you anymore because he got bored."
Now her eyes narrowed. He'd irritated her; good.
"Yea, your dad," she snapped.
This caused a half smile to curl at his lips. "Well, at least you have a sense of humor. So what do you need a tracker for?"
She shrugged. "I could use someone of your skills-"
Bishop quickly held up his hands to stop her. "Whoa! Hold your horses, lady; I never said you could hire me."
She threw him a sarcastic look. "Well, I can tell you're a busy man, you know, holding up that wall and all."
He couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Alright. Let's say, you do me a favor, and after that I will decide if your company suits me."
She raised an eyebrow, her lips a firm line. "A favor? Really?"
He knew what she was thinking.
"Don't flatter yourself," he spat. "Not that kind of favor. Besides... you're not my type. I just need some help in retrieving something of mine."
"And what exactly to you need help retrieving?"
"It's my wolf, Karnwyr," he explained. "He disappeared while hunting a week ago. When I went looking for him, I found that some trappers had captured him. I've been tracking them ever since and their trail continues east of here. Now, I wouldn't need your help if these were just simple trappers. but from the looks of their trail now they've grown into a small army of bandits, and I'm not about to go stumbling into any ambushes."
"Very well," she told him. "I'll help you."
He was actually slightly surprised. He'd thought she might turn tail and run when he told her about the sheer number of bandits keeping his wolf prisoner.
"Great, we set out now!" Maybe, if he got lucky, she'd take the most damage and die once they were done. "But I'm warning you, if you try and treat me like one of your lackeys, you're gonna regret it. And gods help you if you try and order me around! I'm my own man. Got it?"
She just waved him off. "Yes, yes, now let's get a move on."
"By the Hells," he cursed. "When I see those bastards I'll make sure they suffer!"
"Karnwyr must mean a lot to you," she noted.
He scoffed. "What gives you the idea that you can actually understand the bond between a ranger and his wolf?"
"I've grown up with animals," she argued. "I had a fox when I was a child."
"Ah, she had a fox!" he sneered.
She glared at him. "My mother gave me that fox. She was very dear to me; she was my best friend."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? And what happened to your so-called 'best friend'?"
"She ran away eventually," she admitted. "I think she went in search of a mate. That's what most animals do."
He grinned slyly. "I hate to break it to you, darling, but I think that was just an excuse."
She glared. "You're hilarious, ranger. Now let's go rescue your pup."
He rolled his eyes at her, but he had to admit... he was starting to warm up to her. She wasn't half bad.
"By the way," she threw over her shoulder as they started on their way. "My name is Astia."
"Bishop," he responded.
The second time they fought together, (the first being the cave holding Karnwyr) she'd brought him to a camp of giants that had some heirloom of a noble's. He'd learned from a young age how tricky fighting giants could be, especially if you didn't use a bow or magicka.
He remembered crouching in the bushes with her, and they both readied their bows, aiming for the closest giant.
"Ready?" She breathed.
Bishop grunted in confirmation.
They let the arrows fly.
The giant stumbled as Bishop's arrow struck the giant in the chest, almost definitely it the creature's heart, and Astia's arrow struck him in the neck. He dropped his club, fell to his knees, and died on the spot.
"Good shot," Bishop commented approvingly.
"You, as well," Astia responded.
He didn't realize from that point that it would become a game. But after than incident, it was a challenge to see who could shoot the most monsters the fastest, and with the best aim.
Neither of them were winning.
He believed they were on the road to some city or other when she finally outright challenged him to a shooting competition.
"I bet I can shoot better than you," she said casually.
"Ha!" He laughed. "Did I just hear a frog croak? Oh no, it was just you."
She gave him an unamused look. "Well, aren't you a prince charming."
He smirked at her. "Still makes you a frog."
She drew her bow without another word, took a steel arrow from her quiver, and pulled the string to her ear. The entire time Bishop watched.
Just before she let the arrow fly, she glanced at him, gave him a condescending grin.
The arrow flew straight into the knot of a tree several feet away, obviously the target she was intending.
"This frog just hit her target," she said proudly. "Your move, prince."
"I never miss my mark," he reminded her.
He was certain she would try to force his shot to miss. She would try to distract him, or use magic to cause his arrow to fly astray. He waited for her to try something as he readied his shot, continually glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
But she just stood there, watching him and the target.
Her forest eyes met his just as he released the arrow. It landed with a thunk... a few inches away from the knot of the tree.
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"That, uh," he muttered. "That's never happened before."
She crossed her arms and smirked. "Sure it hasn't, Ranger. Either way, I win."
He stared at her in disbelief. He couldn't tell if he hated her, respected her, somewhere in between, or something else entirely...
It wasn't long before he truly understood how different she was from other women he had met.
She was dangerous, beautiful... more than that, she was the Dragonborn.
It wasn't until she killed a dragon and devoured its soul right in front of him that he realized it.
No wonder everyone regarded her with awe.
She wasn't just some wench who ran around swaying her hips to get other people to do her dirty work for her. In fact, she loved getting her hands dirty. There was nothing she wasn't willing to do, and it was thrilling. Thievery, murder, you name it. She would do it, and on a daily basis.
Knowing that she wasn't like the others did nothing to calm his growing desire for her.
He couldn't help himself. Not that he really wanted to; he was a ranger, a hunter, not a monk. He wasn't one to deny himself something when he knew he wanted it.
She was hardened muscles under soft curves, the perfect combination. Her hair was the softest he'd ever felt, and her eyes the most intriguing color he'd ever seen.
It didn't take him long to realize he wanted her. And he wasn't afraid to let her know.
However, whenever he dropped a suggestive comment or made a move, she either gave him the cold shoulder or fixed him with an icy stare.
That didn't mean she did not want him. He was certain of it.
It wasn't because he believed himself irresistible. He wasn't that egotistical. But he saw the way she watched him. Whenever he removed his armor, baring his chest to her gaze to stretch, sleep, or bathe, she never let the opportunity slip. He would pretend he didn't notice.
It appealed to the hunter in him. If she wanted to play this game, he would be happy to oblige.
But he would always remember that day in Whiterun...
She'd started telling him about her life in Skyrim, and in return he'd been telling her a bit about his.
"What do you think of my being a Companion?" she asked as she left Jorvascar after taking a job.
He smirked. "Ah, so you're a Companion. Are you proud of yourself, ladyship?"
"Yes," she said honestly, uncaring of his teasing. "Being a Companion is a great honor."
He nodded towards the twin Companions, Vilkas and Farkas, that watched her as they left. Or really, they watched her swaying hips as she left. "Just look at the way those two brothers look at you. They're nothing but two hungry dogs looking to make a meal out of you."
She lifted an eyebrow, a smirk curling her lips. "Oh, you mean like you?"
A predatory grin spread over his face. Never before had she initiated the flirtatious banter. "Now, now, ladyship. Don't tease me with your words or I may just take a bite. If those two fools think they can snatch you from under my nose, they'll have my dagger between their ribs." He met her mossy green eyes with his molten amber ones. "With all due respect, ladyship... you're mine," he growled. "Unless you would rather run off with one of those mutts."
For a moment, he thought she would glare at him, toss her hair, and continue down to the market. Instead, she paused, and she smiled. "I think I like you better," she murmured.
That was all the invitation he needed. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up to him, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. "Then come here, and let's show them who you prefer," he purred.
His lips found hers, and she didn't resist. In fact, she melted into his embrace, her arms looping around his neck. He only had to wait a moment until her lips opened for him, and his tongue found hers. A low moan of satisfaction and desire echoed in his chest as she took his lower lip between hers, gently pulling.
That was it for Bishop.
He swiftly picked her up under her thighs and slammed her violently against the side of Jorvascar, and he kissed her again. She clung to him, her hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair.
He kissed her once more, twice, then a third time, before he set her down and walked away towards the Bannered Mare.
It gave him more satisfaction than she'd ever know that she was only able to follow after a few moments, and on shaky legs.
Thank you for reading! Leave me a review!