Chapter 7
Into The Void
Rona slept restlessly through the night. Her dreams fell between a mix of that strange dark place with the glowing fauna and Bishop hopelessly chasing after her before he was consumed by Alduin.
She woke up feeling worse than she had the day before, especially with that short little letter from him weighing on her mind. He'd be at the Sleeping Giant for an entire week. She was debating with herself on whether or not to go.
She had a contract in Morthal and she absolutely had to get there in two days. The third day was when it was due to be completed. She'd really wanted to try her luck in Mzinchaleft, but the dive inside could take days and she'd miss her chance to see him.
She stepped out of the mausoleum mindlessly kicking the switch in the wall to close the entryway as she went. Her internal debate raged back and forth with all the pros and cons of seeing him. The pros... well it would be amazing to see him, to hold him in her arms again, to kiss and touch him, to just be with him. She desperately missed him. The cons though? If she saw him again she felt like she'd never be able to let him go and that would put his life in danger. She couldn't have that. Not when she was so damn close to finding the scroll. If she could just piece together the insane Dwemer puzzle that had been injected into her mind, then she could move on to the next part of her journey and... fight Alduin.
She shook her head trying not to think of that. She had to focus on her first task. She had to find that scroll and finish her training before she could do anything else.
Rona approached a carriage in front of the stables when a young man breathlessly caught up to her and shouted, "Ah wait!" He stopped in front of her, throwing his hands to his knees and caught his breath and asked, "Are you Jill?"
"Yes," she replied warily.
"Oh thank the gods. I've been looking all over Riften for you!" He pulled a letter out of his bag and handed it to her, "Got a delivery for you, your hands only."
She took the envelope, wondering if Bishop left her another letter and asked, "Who is it from?"
"Dunno," he said, "Tall creepy fella, dressed in a black cloak. Paid me a pretty sum to get that in your hands though."
Rona felt a shiver crawl up her spine and got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. The courier took his leave and she paid the carriage driver to take her to Morthal. She took a seat in the back of the wagon and just stared at the envelope for a minute while the carriage moved steadily along the path.
She pressed her lips together and muttered, "Just fucking open it already..." She tore it open and pulled a note out. The second she unfolded it she dropped it like it was on fire and yelped so loud that the carriage driver looked back, asking, "Everything alright miss? Should I pull over?"
"Everything's fine," she forced herself to say while she stared at the black hand on the little note with the words, We Know, neatly scrawled underneath it. She felt sick to her stomach and her paranoia came back in full force from the day before. She looked all around her, searching for someone, anyone who might be following her. She couldn't take any chances and asked quickly, "Actually, could you stop for a minute? I'm not feeling so well."
The carriage driver pulled over and she hopped out and said, "I'll be right back..."
He gave her a concerned look but said, "Sure, take your time miss."
Rona ran off into the trees and pressed her back to one. She needed to get out of there faster than a carriage could take her so she looked to the skies and shouted, "OD AH VIING!" She anxiously waited, knowing the driver probably heard her shout. After a good fifteen minutes when Odahviing didn't make an appearance she relented and turned to head back towards the carriage. Thankfully the driver hadn't been spooked off by her shout, although he did stare hard at her and she gave him a sheepish glance before hopping back into the wagon. She snatched the note from the floor of the carriage and burned it up with a flames spell.
She was grateful that the driver didn't ask any questions and merely resumed their trip along the cobblestone road. Odahviing had said he might not be able to come to her for a few days and it had only been four days since he left to meet with the other dragons. She couldn't help but feel worried for him hoping with all her heart that he was alright.
Her trip to Morthal took two days of travel, stopping first in Windhelm to sleep for the night. She took a lot of precautions at the inn, setting up runes at the floor of the door in her room and even pushing a chair up under the door handle. If anyone tried to come in, she'd immediately be woken up for it. Fortunately, no one came calling in the middle of the night, although she nearly set off the runes herself when she made to rush off to the bathroom that morning. She got dressed and carefully removed the traps she'd set up before she met with the carriage driver again and they set off towards Morthal.
She wasn't exactly thrilled to be returning there so soon, especially since her recent attempted break-in of one of the local's homes was still fresh in everyone's minds. She doubted she'd get much of a warm welcome, but resolved to keep to herself and hope the folks there would do the same. Upon arriving she quickly made her way up to the local inn and stepped inside. It was the first time she was ever grateful that the only patrons there were the town beggar and the Orc. Although Lurbuk was singing an ear bleeding rendition of the Age of Aggression that made her groan inwardly.
"Welcome to the Moorside!" Jonna, the kindly Redguard proprietor called. The moment she saw Rona's face though she frowned, "Jillian. Not here to start trouble again I hope."
Rona chuckled awkwardly as she pulled her hood down and ran a hand through her long hair, trying to untangle it, "No, Jonna, I promise I learned my lesson last time."
Jonna smirked at her and wiped at the bar with a rag and said, "Alright, well come on in then. Pull up a seat. What can I get for you?"
Rona walked over, carefully stepping around Urfen who was fast asleep on the floor and she sat down at the bar and said, "I'll take whatever's hot and just a glass of water."
"Sure thing," Jonna said as she stepped away from the counter to head down into the cellar.
"I need a room too!" Rona called after her.
"You can take your pick between the two, hun!" Jonna's voice echoed back up the stairs.
In a minute the innkeeper returned with a piping hot bowl of horker stew and a thick cut of bread. She pushed the food in front of Rona and poured her a tall glass of water, then leaned on the counter and said, "Kellen told me that you didn't spend much time in jail even after what you tried to pull last time you were here."
Rona blew on a steaming spoonful of stew and said, "Yeah... Jarl Ravencrone was kind enough to pardon me." She took a bite and Jonna continued to admonish her, "Typical. Thanes get all the leeway."
Rona laughed and said through a mouthful, "Hey! I earned that title. I didn't see anyone else diving into that cave to take down those vampires."
Jonna scoffed, pressing her elbow to the counter and leaned her head into her hand, "Psh... Kellen would have gone with yah, but you just had to play the hero and send everyone home."
Rona swallowed another bite and smirked, "That's because they were all shaking in their boots the minute we arrived," Jonna frowned at her and Rona added quickly, "ExceptKellen. But I was only thinking of you when I sent him back you know. Didn't want to risk it."
Jonna grinned at her and said, "Well I appreciate that. I don't know where I'd be without that idiot husband of mine if he ever got hurt." They were quiet for a moment while Rona slurped up her food before Jonna, being as nosy as ever, asked, "So what was it that you needed so bad from Jorgen and Lami?"
Rona looked her right in the eyes and said, "A fancy enchanted axe."
Jonna laughed at her, smacking the counter and said, "Damn it, woman! You pulling my leg?"
"Maybe," she grinned. Looking to change the subject, however, she glanced back at the beggar and said, "Can't believe you're letting Urfen just snooze on your floor like that."
Jonna shrugged, "Might as well. No business for it to make a difference. Besides, it's been freezing out."
Rona scoffed, "It's always freezing out."
"Well, it's the dead of winter now, so it's been colder than usual lately. He's been getting himself tossed in jail just to get a night of warmth and I felt bad for the poor sap so I offered him the inn floor."
"That's kind of you," Rona said sincerely. Then she pulled out her coin purse and spilled some gold onto the counter, "Do me a favor and feed him up right, will you? On me. And you know what might as well give him the other room for the night."
Jonna smiled at her and said, "Sure thing."
Rona finished off her food and decided on the room nearest to the front door of the inn. She felt safer knowing her escape was that much closer to her if she needed it. She retired early for the evening, setting up some runes at the foot of the door and pushed a chair up under the door handle then sat back on the bed and reviewed her contract. She'd finish the job as quick as she could and then she'd try for Odahviing again.
She decided, if he came she would fly to Riverwood and meet with Bishop. That way anyone following her would lose track. It was safer that way. But if he didn't come... she sighed, dropping her head back against the pillow. She really hoped Odahviing would come.
She drifted off into another fitful sleep, her dreams were once again filled with images of the Dwemer Ruins and the Elder Scroll. She watched as Dwemer symbols pieced themselves together in front of her. Symbol by symbol they strung along, making out words and sentences. It was like her mind was trying desperately to make sense of it all, to crack the code. She felt like she nearly had it. It was right in front of her and she squinted hard, trying to read one word, in particular, that was just floating there when she heard a loud knock. She woke up, slowly opening her eyes as the symbols faded from her mind. She peered through the dark room, looking for the source of the sound. Had someone knocked on her door?
She waited a moment but when no more sound came she closed her eyes again and tried to fall back asleep, to go back to the words that were just in front of her. She needed to read them, it was too important.
Then another loud knock came, only this time it was right against the wall over her head. Her eyes snapped open and her heart pound in her chest as she looked up into the face of a very tall Altmer staring back at her with his sharp, dark blue eyes.
It was the same elf from that night in Windhelm. The one who'd caught her talking to the Aretino boy. And he looked so much more terrifying in the dark like that, looming over her. Her entire body tensed up and she tried to move, to scream but she couldn't. It didn't feel right though. It wasn't because of fear... there was some other reason she couldn't move.
He spoke then keeping his deep voice as quiet as possible, "It's easier when you're paralyzed."
A paralyze spell faded from his hand and was replaced with a flames spell. He lit the candle on the bedside table casting the tiny room in a dim light. He held his right arm out and pulled his sleeve up revealing the Black Hand gripping his lean forearm. It was just like Mrs. Gilseene's mark. It looked like some kind of tattoo, but she watched in horror as it actually moved a little, dragging itself upward and even pulling his skin taut as it crawled along.
He pulled a silver dagger out and held it up over his wrist, where the mark seemed to originate and said, "My best advice to you is that you don't run or fight them. Just let them take you. The sooner you let it happen, the sooner it will be over." Then he slowly slashed his wrist open, going across it horizontally. He held his arm out allowing his inky black blood to pool onto the floor before he cast a healing spell over his wound, sealing it shut again.
Rona watched in horror as the blood on the floor slowly crawled up the walls. It spread outward, filling the corners of the room like shadows before splintering off into the shapes of dozens of black hands. She tried to scream and she tried to squirm as the hands drew ever closer to her, but it was no use. She could not move. She stared in mind-numbing terror as the room was enveloped in darkness. The only light came from the candle. Then the Altmer leaned over it, pulled his mask down and still staring right at her, blew the candle out.
Darkness consumed her then and she felt the hands crawling all over her body, gripping at her. It was a horrible feeling, one that brought her back to a time and place when she was taken by an awful man that touched her and hurt her. She shut her eyes tightly, willing it to stop and when it did finally stop she opened them again and found herself in the middle of a dark forest with only a full moon in the sky illuminating the trees and grassy landscape.
(The Song is Beyond Me remastered version by After Forever)
She looked around her, baffled as to how she got there and then she realized something as a cold gust of wind cut through her flesh. She was naked. Instinctively she covered herself, feeling extremely vulnerable, but in that moment, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the air, making her forget her nudity altogether. She looked back into the depths of the forest where the darkness was greatest. The moonlight would not touch there. It was like a vast empty void.
Her heart was fluttering hard against her ribcage and she stood up, looking around for the source of the scream. She didn't see anyone though. She was completely alone and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Then she heard her own voice echoing through the trees, but it was not coming from her...
"I know I'm alone, but somebody's watching me
Follows me everywhere I go
A cold flow surprised me again, I shiver
The presence of something, I can hear it's breathing"
Rona started walking away from the darkness, trying to stay in the light of the moon. She was shaking with fear and felt so lost. She couldn't understand where she was or why her music was pouring from her without her willing it to. As she carried on something moved out of the corner of her eye. She snapped her head to the right and saw someone else walking along through the forest. It was a beautiful young woman, who was nearly her height. She had long flowing, curling stark-white hair and freckled, tan skin. She too was as naked as Rona and seemed just as lost.
Rona tried to call out to the woman but no sound came from her mouth. Then she saw another person and another. Soon she saw hundreds of nude and terrified looking people, with only the moon illuminating their forms. People of all different races even; Orcs, Dunmer, Altmer, Bosmer, Argonians, Nords and so on. They all continued their strange procession forward, aiming away from the void behind them. And then the piercing scream echoed through the forest again and everyone stopped to look back.
She couldn't help herself and also turned around to look. What she saw brought her more dread than anything in her life. Solid black, hulking creatures were wandering through the trees searching for them. They were almost humanoid, with two arms and two legs, yet their top halves were huge and hunched over. They lacked eyes and noses, yet had enormous mouths which curled up around their heads and hundreds of bright jagged teeth lining their dark gums. Their hands and feet had long, sharp claws that curled outward and were as solid black as the rest of them.
Then they started speaking, their guttural voices ripping through the night.
"Running for something, nothing, in the black of the night
Creeps around you, the invisible force that makes you crazy
I can't remember how it feels to be warm, to be alone...
Without that fear deep inside me."
Rona's chest was heaving as panic gripped her and terror overwhelmed her. Then a creature found one of them. An Argonian howled as a beast burrowed its claws into his back and mercilessly dragged him back towards the void in the trees.
"Icons of death float on beyond me
Whispering my name and breathing my fear."
People started screaming and running in all directions as the creatures got on all fours and pelted off the ground like werewolves, burying their teeth and claws into the bodies of each person they caught before dragging them back towards the darkest part of the forest. Then someone grabbed Rona's hand and pulled her forward. She started running and looked on at the person trying to save her. It was the woman with the long white hair. She looked like she was yelling something, but Rona couldn't hear over the blood-curdling shrieks and the guttural cries from the beasts.
And then it happened. One of the creatures pounced on her and pinned her to the ground on her back. She stared up at it, horrified as it opened its jagged maw wide and started screaming savagely at her. She also started screaming, but only because it buried its claws into her chest and ripped her wide open. The pain was excruciating. She wanted to pass out, she wanted to die, but she wouldn't die. It wouldn't let her die.
She felt the hands again, crawling all over her and inside her. Her body was consumed by the darkness. Then suddenly, just as quickly as it started, the creature stopped its merciless assault on her and slowly turned away, returning to the Void.
Rona stared up at the moon, listening to her own voice singing, while she bled out. She had to be bleeding out. Her body was torn to pieces. Then the young woman stood over her and knelt down. She caressed a tear from Rona's cheek, leaned forward, kissed the crown of her head and whispered, "Welcome back Listener."
"Leave me alone, wherever you came from
Hearing so much voices, no one's talking.
Leave me alone, wherever you came from
Hearing so much voices, no one's talking.
Leave me alone."
Rona slowly opened her eyes and took a shallow breath. The pain in her chest was still there. She carefully pressed a hand to her sternum, expecting it to be ripped open but was surprised to find it intact. She looked down at herself as her eyes continued to adjust through the haze. She was wearing her armor again and she heard people talking.
"Remarkable," a woman's voice muttered, "I've never seen anyone fight it for so long before."
"She's resilient," the soothing, deep voice of a man came next.
"Do you think she'll pass our next test?"
"Hard to say."
Rona blinked a few times and sat up, looking forward at two people dressed in black and red leather armor. The smaller one, she guessed was the woman, was seated nonchalantly on top of a bookshelf with one of her legs carelessly dangling off of it, while her much taller cohort, Rona guessed was the Altmer, leaned with his back to the wall and had his arms crossed. Both had their heads and faces covered up, save for their eyes.
She immediately put a hand to the dagger on her hip when the woman waved a finger and warned her, "Ah-ah-ah! Be careful what you do now, Jillian." The woman drawled her alias like she had a leg up on her somehow, but it only made Rona more confused. If they knew she was the Listener then they would know she was the Dragonborn and would have her real name. So why were they choosing to use her alias if they knew that? Unless... somehow... they didn't.
Rona swallowed hard and steadied her breathing as her eyes darted around, searching for an escape. She was inside a dirty, windowless shack with a few pieces of decayed furniture. She noticed the only door in the room was heavily locked. But what really stood out about the place was the fact that there were blood spatters and stains on nearly every surface including the walls. It smelled like death and was on par with the depravity of Thorn's torture chamber considering the number of bugs steadily marching across the wood-paneled floor and vermin festering in the corners.
She looked back to the two assassins and breathed out almost a whisper, "What do you want with me?" Her fear was choking her throat closed. She knew she could shout her way out if she had to, but considering they didn't know who she really was, in that moment, she decided to hold her tongue.
"Isn't it obvious?" The woman asked. Rona slowly shook her head. She knew they'd taken her because she'd met with the boy in Windhelm, but she didn't want to feed them any more information than they already had on her. The woman laughed lightly and said, "Grelod the Kind was, by all rights a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill...that you stole. A kill that you must repay."
Rona took a sharp breath and asked, "How?"
The woman sounded like she was smiling under her mask when she said, "By serving the Dread Father of course. You belong to us now."
"No," Rona replied defiantly, mustering up her courage.
"Oh yes," the woman simpered, "You fought the Dread Hounds much longer than I expected, but the deed has been done. You are one of the Brotherhood now. You feel it don't you? The tightening grip on your right arm?"
Rona took her hand from her dagger and held it up in front of herself. She'd been so focused on her chest pain and overwhelmed by everything else that had happened to her that she hadn't noticed the intense ghostly grip on her forearm. She hooked her fingers under her sleeve and yanked it down revealing an enormous black mark protruding from her wrist, like a huge bruise. She panicked and tugged on her sleeve more, drawing it up her arm until it revealed the entire mark. She stared wide-eyed at the solid black hand gripping her entire forearm and yelped when it moved, pulling itself upward, drawing her skin taut in the process.
She knit her brows together and roared at them, "GET IT OFF!"
The woman laughed and said, "Impossible! Once you've been marked by Sithis there is no removing it."
Rona shook her head fiercely and shouted, "I can't be one of you! I'm not a murderer!"
The Altmer spoke up this time. "You say that, yet your companions in the Thieves Guild were quick to note your capacity to kill."
Rona gaped at him incredulously, "You spoke with my Guildmates? They told you about me?"
The woman laughed and said, "Of course they did. The Brotherhood and the Guild have had this arrangement for centuries now. They keep to stealing and we commit murder. Under no circumstances do we step into each other's territories. We don't tolerate Coin Killers and they don't put up with Blood Thieves. And that my dear, is exactly what you are. A Blood Thief. So as per our age-old agreement, you were to be turned over to us to do whatever we liked with."
Rona knit her brows together. They'd betrayed her? The Guild just gave her to them? She knew she hadn't been doing a very good job at earning her keep but she never expected them to just throw her to the wolves like that. Her heart sank when she realized how strange everyone had been acting towards her. Brynjolf had actually, really looked at her for the first time since she'd been there, sadder than ever and Delvin was drinking himself stupid before he handed her the contract… the contract that sent her there, to Morthal.
"Delvin," she murmured, holding back an angry sob, "how could you?" She snapped her furious gaze back to the two of them, tears stinging her eyes as she demanded, "So why didn't you just kill me? You plan to toy with me first?"
"You catch on fast," the woman said, "It's something of a tradition in the Brotherhood. We like to give the Blood Thief a chance to prove themselves. If they choose to serve Sithis and our organization, they will continue to live. But if they don't... well," she chuckled, "Sithis will claim their soul in due time. So either way, you will repay your debt to us, whether it's with your own life or another's is the only question which demands to be answered now."
Rona felt a tightening in her arm again and looked back down at the Black Hand that was slowly making its way up towards her shoulder.
The Altmer pushed off the wall and put his hands to his hips. "Since you're newly inducted the mark moves much more swiftly. The more you start to kill and the sooner you do it the more the mark will retreat before it overwhelms and takes you."
"So... I have to murder... to live?"
"Precisely," the woman said. Then she waved an arm out and added, "Have a look. We've already collected several participants for our little game."
Rona turned around and was horrified to see three people on their knees, bound with their arms behind their backs and their heads wrapped in sacks. They were all very much alive and each squirmed against their bonds, except for the only Khajiit in the room, who appeared to have resigned to his fate.
"This is the moment of truth for you," the woman went on explaining, "Prove yourself as a cold-hearted killer and continue to live or you can try and run away. It won't be long before the Black Hand takes you though."
This went completely against her being. Against everything she'd ever stood for. Rona may have taken innocent lives twice before but she refused to do it again. She couldn't let them do this to these people. She stood up then, pushing herself off the blood-stained floor, crushing several ants under her gloved palms and brushed her hands off on the sides of her leathers. She turned around and looked hard at the two assassins before her as she drew her dagger from its sheath.
"Looks like she still has some defiance left in her," the woman said to her cohort. "Go on then girl, try to kill us and see what happens."
The Altmer brazenly stepped forward, moving and towering right over her. Rona was forced to crane her neck to look up at him. He was taller than Casavir, but much thinner and more lithe physically.
"Go ahead," he said, "Take my life if you can."
Rona gripped her dagger tighter in her hand, trying to steady her shaking. Why was she shaking? She was the damned Dragonborn. She didn't have to be afraid of these two. And yet there was something about them, but especially about him that absolutely terrified her. He seemed so confident that she wouldn't do it, that she wouldn't kill him.
She felt her anger mounting. He was the one who'd done it to her. Chased her down and sent her to that awful place with those things. She hated him. She raised her blade and made to lash out at him when she felt a sharp, gripping pain in her right arm. She faltered and clutched her arm as she gasped with the spasm rippling through it. She looked at the mark again as it squeezed the life out of her arm, boring right into her muscle.
The woman sat up straight, wrapping her arms around her knee as she intoned snidely, "The fifth tenet of the Brotherhood declares that we may never kill a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. For to do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis. Even attempting to take one of our lives has set your mark traveling faster than ever now. What do you think Niven? I'd say another day or so and it might actually claim her soul."
He cast his soft blue eyes over the Black Hand which had started reaching for her neck. "Most likely," he agreed. Rona thought he sounded almost... disappointed.
"It's time," the woman said, "You need to make your choice now," she hopped off the bookshelf and moved to stand by her cohort, crossing her arms, "One of these people has a contract out on them. You must choose one and kill them... and if you're lucky you'll choose correctly and the mark will retreat and you will get to live another day."
Rona looked back at the three captives. One of them had a contract? Only one?
"What happens if I choose wrong?"
(The Music is Lucifer's Hymn You then Goetia by Peter Gundry)
"Then you'll just have to try again until you get it right. Or you could do the easy thing." Rona looked questioningly at her and the woman finally answered, "You could just kill all three of them. Quick and painless," she ran a thumb across her throat in a slitting motion.
Rona scowled at her then turned to look over the three captives again. She had no choice. Either let them live and die with her mark, forcing the world to be consumed without her, or...
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, hating herself for what she was about to do. She walked over to the first of the three people, a Nord man, and asked tentatively, "Why... why would someone put a hit out on you?"
But it wasn't just the man who answered her. All three of them started talking at once, their words jumbling together. The Nord man pleaded with her, whimpering and begging for her not to kill him while he apologized over and over for the people he'd killed at war. The older woman in the middle merely snapped at her, threatening her if she didn't remove the sack from her head and demanded she be released while the Khajiit man cackled madly and started regaling her with all the reasons plenty of people would want him dead.
There was so much talking, hissing and pleading all at once. She felt overwhelmed and pressed a hand to her head. The voices were in the depths of her mind, whispering over and over to her. Insisting that she kill. That she murder and sate her blade with blood. She gripped Mehrunes' Razor tighter in her hand and felt her skin prickling and her blood boiling. A vein throbbed against her skull and with each painful pang, the voices grew stronger and louder, chanting. Demanding.
"SHUT UP!" She shrieked at them all, ordering them to stop! But they would not. The voices grew louder and hurt so much. Her head wouldn't stop throbbing. She had to make it stop and before she knew it she was standing over three bloodied corpses as the voices thundering in her head slowly quieted and faded from her mind. She was shaking all over and white-knuckled from the intensity that she was gripping the newly imbibed Razor in her hand. It was stronger now that it had been stained with the blood of the innocent. The Black Hand on her arm had also withdrawn down to her wrist, only tenderly clutching at her now.
She felt warm tears streaming down her cheeks and she fell to her knees and dropped the Razor on the ground and although her hands were stained with blood she threw them to her mouth to hold back the scream building within. What have I done? How could this have happened? Why? Why? She kept asking herself.
"Oh don't be so overdramatic dear," The woman's voice danced through the nearly silent room, "Crying after the way you brutally murdered those three? That's just asinine," she laughed stepping beside Rona and put a gentle hand on her shoulder, "You've no reason to fret child. Guilt, innocence, right, wrong... forget all that. What matters here is that I ordered you to kill and you obeyed. As far as I'm concerned, you did well."
She turned away from her then, unlocking the door and said, "If you want to continue living you will join us at our sanctuary in Falkreath. Niven will guide you there if you'd like. Otherwise, go off on your own. See how long you last." The woman gave one last devious laugh and swept out the door.
Rona stared hard at the floor and kept wondering how she'd got there. How she'd fallen so far. She'd done everything in her power to evade the Brotherhood. It wasn't until... Her eyes darted to the lightly glowing Razor on the floor.
Every time she held it she felt more powerful. But she also felt like she was losing herself bit by bit. With the blade, she had no sense of right or wrong. It didn't matter. It was irrelevant with that much power in her hands, for who would dare to oppose her?
She shook her head. No. She thought. I can't do this anymore. I can't. She stood up then, carefully wiping her tears away on her sleeve and turned to face the assassin.
She was utterly astonished to see him in his plain clothes. He'd changed out of his leather armor and was wearing a very familiar blue tunic. He was finishing tying his long tawny brown hair back and allowed it to cascade between his shoulder blades. A gasp caught in her throat when he looked at her and asked, "Are you ready?"
Her eyes widened. She knew him. "You... you're..."
"Yes, from the second-hand shop in Windhelm," he answered her plainly and made for the door, "Let's get moving. I'd like to return to Falkreath soon. Because of this entire escapade, chasing you to the Rift after you stole my contract, my mark has grown. I need to kill soon."
He stepped outside without another look at her. Rona walked towards the door, following him, but stopped for a moment and glanced back at the Razor on the floor. "No more," she whispered, leaving it behind as swept out after him.
(Background music Where Legends Rest by Faolan)
"Hit me again Orgnar." Bishop slid his glass across the bar towards the disgruntled Nord bartender.
"Gonna drink us dry again tonight?"
"Looks that way," he replied with a scowl on his face. It was his third night back in Riverwood and he'd somehow convinced himself that she was actually going to show up. He'd even ordered an entire bottle of Alto wine and had a glass put aside for her in the hope that she'd come walking through that door at some point.
But with each passing day, he was slowly starting to doubt that he'd ever see her again at all. His anxiousness got the better of him and he started to think that she really had died out there, or that she'd been picked off by a dragon or some other predator on her way there. Then his mind started to wander over the worst thought of all - that she didn't even love him anymore.
He knew it was stupid and that it was the hard liquor getting him like that, putting his mind in a bad place, but he couldn't help it.
Orgnar refilled his glass with brandy and pushed it back. Bishop took it and downed the entire thing in one gulp.
He slammed the glass on the counter and smacked his lips, "Six fucking months."
Orgnar raised a brow at him.
Bishop looked at the bartender, his eyes rimmed red as he scoffed, "Do you know how long that is for me to go without bedding a woman? That's mind-boggling for me. It's... it's ridiculous! It's inhuman! How can she fucking do this to me!?"
Orgnar chuckled and shook his head, "I think it's time I cut you off."
"Fuck you Orgnar," Bishop barked at him.
Orgnar just looked at him with half-lidded eyes and said, "Yeah. You're done. Do me a favor and pay your tab before you head out this time."
Bishop grumbled and started patting himself up and down looking for his coin purse. He buried his hand in a pocket, yanking it out, but before he tossed it on the counter he said, "Hit me again."
Orgnar just stared him.
"I said, hit me again."
"I'm about to if you keep it up, ranger."
"Come on Orgnar, we've known each other for how long?"
"Too long," Orgnar said, "Would prefer it if you'd go harass Valga out in Falkreath for a change."
"Can't. I promised her I'd be here," he pressed a finger to the bar, "at this piece of shit establishment you're running."
"If I pour you one more shot will that shut you the fuck up?" Orgnar asked pointedly.
"It might," Bishop said with a drunken chuckle.
Orgnar poured another glass, but before handing it back said, "Pay your tab."
"Yeah, yeah, here just take it," Bishop pushed his coin purse over and Orgnar passed him his last drink. Instead of downing it in one go this time, however, Bishop just sipped on it and sighed dejectedly to himself. He hadn't wanted to be completely sloshed when he saw her again for the first time in ages, but it was hard not to be sitting there waiting for days on end while his hopefulness slowly faded away.
Just then the door opened and he snapped his neck back, as his heart banged in his chest. The moment he saw that it wasn't her though, he turned away and let out an irritated sigh, sipping more on his brandy.
The traveler stepped up to the bar and pulled up a stool next to him. Bishop couldn't help it when he looked her over. She was breath-taking in her beauty. Redguard from the look of it, with beautiful bronze skin and black, curly hair tied up neatly on the back of her head. She had a knock-out hourglass figure and was wearing a tight pair of black leather trousers and a long yellow tunic that dipped low at the neck, revealing the top of her ample bosom. Bishop nearly groaned at the sight of that.
"What can I do for you stranger?" Orgnar asked her.
"I'll take a room and whatever's hot out of the oven," she said with a smooth, sultry tone of voice.
"Anything to drink?"
She glanced at Bishop, noticing his staring. She gave him a once over herself and with a wry smile said, "I'll have whatever he's having."
Bishop leaned an elbow on the counter, letting his staring be more obvious as he swirled his glass and took a sip. Then he started doing what came naturally. He flirted, lacing his words with plenty of innuendo, "It's brandy sweetheart, might be a little rough going down. Think you can handle it?"
She grinned at him and cocked her head, "I think I'll be alright. I've enjoyed brandy before."
Orgnar's lip curled and he gave an annoyed grunt, which neither party noticed before he turned away to head into the cellar and collect a hot plate for the woman.
She curled her fingers into the band holding her hair up and tugged on it, setting her long hair spiraling down her shoulders. Bishop never thought it would be possible for a woman to become even more eye-catching until then, and gods was she beautiful. It had been a damn long time since he'd been with a woman... since he'd been with his woman and he was aching for that release. It just wasn't the same when he did it himself.
He'd been desperately holding out for her too. But as time wore on, his sexual frustrations were only getting worse and when once he never bothered to look at another woman, he couldn't help it now.
Bishop didn't say anything else, being far too focused on tracing every perfect curve of this luscious woman's body and letting his horny imagination run wild when she decided to break the silence and asked, "You live around here?"
Bishop's eyes jumped from the cleavage of her full breasts and back up to her lovely dark eyes, "Nah," he said taking another sip from his glass, "I'm just a wanderer, you?"
"A traveling sellsword and merchant."
"From Hammerfell I take it?"
She smiled coyly, "How'd you guess?"
He chuckled, "The accent, the clothes, that scent - what is that? Sandalwood?"
She laughed a little, "Close. Agarwood. You can smell the incense on me?"
"A bit. Don't get me wrong though, it's nice. I spent a few years out in Hammerfell. That smell was everywhere around there."
"Hm, yeah. That's one of the more popular ones back home. Was looking to sell some of it up in Solitude."
He raised his brows at her, "And you'd risk trekking there on foot instead of taking the safety of the seas?"
"I can handle myself," she said patting the single curved sword at her hip.
"You ever fought a dragon before?" He asked her seriously.
She looked him over, meeting his sharp amber eyes with her own dark ones, "Never fought one... but I've seen them. I've seen what they can do."
"Well trust me when I tell you that you do not want to fight one of those angry sons of bitches."
"You've fought one before?"
Bishop let out a breathy chuckle and downed the rest of his brandy, "Sweetheart, you're talking to the number one dragonslayer in all of Skyrim."
Her eyes widened and she breathed, "You?"
He grinned at her, "That's right."
"You're the Dragonborn?"
His face fell as he was suddenly reminded of Rona. Her question went unanswered as Orgnar came back up with a plate of spiced beef and a hot baked potato. He set it down in front of her and poured her a glass of brandy. Bishop looked to Orgnar and held his own empty glass out, shaking it a little expectantly.
"We're all out," Orgnar said firmly.
Bishop looked at him with half-lidded eyes and then eyed the full bottle in the man's hands, "Oh come on Orgnar. I might even tip you this time!"
"Don't make me toss you out of here," he threatened with a snarl.
"Wow, you'd really do that to me and Karnwyr?" He motioned to the wolf who was steadily snoozing near the hearth fire with an empty plate sitting nearby.
"Pft," Orgnar scoffed, "The wolf is welcome to stay, at least he knows how to be quiet."
The woman looked back at the wolf and smiled, "He's yours?"
"Yup, my pride and joy," Bishop said with a lupine grin.
She laughed and asked, "He wears armor?"
"Of course! Can't do without enchanted armor up here in Skyrim, not with those fire breathing bastards everywhere nowadays."
She looked Bishop up and down once more, examining his leather armor and he smirked at her, pushing the thoughts of his lovely Ladyship from his booze-addled mind, and let his smaller head do the thinking for him when he asked salaciously, "See something you like darlin'?"
She just grinned in reply and took a long draught of her brandy, "Mind if I ask you something?"
He shrugged and said, "Shoot."
"You ever hear of the Blades?"
He gave her a side-eye glance and started snickering under his breath as he thought of the old maid Delphine and her elderly counterpart Esbern. "The hell you want to know about them for?"
"Well," she started as she dug into her food, "I didn't come here just to sell my sword or my wares. I came here to fight the dragons... like you."
"And what in Oblivion possessed you to want to do that?"
"Skyrim's not the only place with dragons anymore."
He turned to face her, looking hard at her now, "What do you mean?"
"You... you don't know?" She looked on at him forlorn, "The dragons are everywhere now."
Bishop knit his brows together, thinking hard. So it really was getting worse. He thought it was just him, that he'd maybe been getting the short end of the stick in coming across so many of them lately, but something was changing. The dragon menace was only growing and as far as he knew, Rona hadn't found the Elder Scroll yet. She needed help damn it! Why was she refusing to let him or anyone close to her help? This wasn't just her life on the line, it was the entire world's!
"My village was burned down by an entire flock of dragons," she explained.
"Flock?" His mind was reeling at that word. The hell did she mean by flock? Dragons were territorial, they rarely if ever worked or gathered together.
"Yes. There were so many of them, a dozen or more. When I'd heard that the Blades were rebuilding and setting out to put an end to the dragon menace I just knew that I just had to come to Skyrim to join them. The problem is that I have no idea where they are. It's all very hush-hush still. I'd heard from a few others that were searching for their base of operations that they're in hiding because of the Thalmor," she grasped his hand suddenly, drawing his attention to her and she smiled sweetly at him, "But I never in all my years thought I'd meet the Dragonborn himself! I've only heard rumors, and honestly, all the stories about you are so conflicting. Most people seem to think that you're dead, or that you're a woman, but now that I've met you, surely you can take me to the Blades! I want to join you in your fight against the dragons!"
He stared at her and then pulled his hand away, "I'm not the Dragonborn."
She knit her brows together, "You're not? But you said-"
"Yeah, I know what I said. I'm the one they call Arrow, the dragonslayer... I'm not the Dragonborn."
She looked downtrodden and said, "So the Dragonborn really is dead then?"
"No," he stood up and pressed a hand to his forehead as panic started to flood him, "Rona's still alive, she has to be."
"Who's Rona?" the woman asked.
He just scoffed and scowled at her. What was he doing with this woman? Talking to her, flirting even? Was he trying to bed her? How could he even think of doing that? She didn't know a damn thing. Not a damn fucking thing about anything. She'd never even fought a dragon before. She had no idea.
He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind, trying to come to his senses. He couldn't do this to her. Not when she was out there somewhere facing down entire flocks of fucking dragons. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, fighting against the helplessness he'd been trying to stave off for days with booze. He was not a man who was good at waiting. He was a man of action. But he'd promised her he'd be there. Spend an entire week in that place and wait for her.
And she had to come. She just had to. She couldn't do this on her own. Not anymore.
The young woman was watching Bishop with a look of concern etched on her face when Orgnar asked her suddenly, "What's your name miss?"
She turned to him and said, "Lashah."
"Well Lashah, you've found the right place," he passed her a slip of paper which she took and read over. A huge grin sprawled across her face and she looked back at Orgnar, "Really? Is this true!?"
"Yup. Sky Haven Temple is where you'll want to go. Talk to Delphine or Esbern and if you can prove you've got what it takes then you're in."
She stood up suddenly and dropped a few coins onto the counter, "Sorry, but it looks like I won't need that room."
"Best of luck to you miss," Orgnar said with a nod.
Lashah looked up at Bishop and said, "Sorry about tonight hun, I really was considering it, but I just can't miss out on this. Maybe I'll see you around?"
Bishop breathed a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Yeah... see you around."
With that, she practically skipped out of the inn leaving the door swinging behind her. Bishop was just watching the door swing when Orgnar cleared his throat and he turned back to see a full glass of brandy and a bottle on the counter, "It's on the house, Bish. I think you need this one."
Bishop took his seat again and glared at the glass in his hand for a moment before he downed it in a single gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Orgnar gave him a sympathetic look and said, "Hang in there ranger."
"Six. Fucking. Months." Bishop said with an exasperated sigh. Orgnar chuckled, patting him on the shoulder and left him to drink his troubles away.
Bishop grabbed the bottle of brandy, poured another shot and looked into his glass. He leaned an elbow on the counter, pressing his head in his hand as he sang quietly under his breath, "Staring at the bottom of your glass... same old empty feeling in your heart..."
