(A.N. So we have another lemony chapter this week.

Like last time I will mark off where it begins and ends for those who want to avoid it. Hope you guys enjoy!

And don't worry, the story isn't gonna devolve into some crazy sex fic, the focus remains the same. ~C.)

Ch 11. Dancing

As the trio entered the High Hrothgar monastery, they were once again greeted by Arngeir, who seemed to anticipate their arrival. Eroeh reached around the side of her pack and unhooked the horn they'd spent forever and a half retrieving, and carefully handed it to the elderly monk. "Ah, so you've retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Well done. You have now passed all the trials. Come with me, it is time for us to recognize you formally as Dragonborn. You are ready to learn to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, Dah, which means 'Push'." He said calmly, before whispering the word into the stone at their feet. Eroeh stood over it and staggered as she took the new knowledge in, the pale ribbons of incandescent light weaving around her as it had for all the words before it. "With all three words together, this shout is much more powerful. Use it wisely." He warned, shifting into position. Just then the other three masters emerged like silent shadows, placing themselves around her.

Eroeh unclasped her black cloak and offered it to Bishop, tilting her head towards the door. "If you don't want to go deaf, you might want to step outside and cover your ears. Karnwyr's too. Come back in once its quiets down." She said softly, her hand lingering on his before he stepped out of sight and back into the evening air. "Knock em dead, sweetness." He said with a boyish grin, a reassuring thumb up and a wink before closing the door behind him. "Master Wulfgar will now gift you with his knowledge of Dah." Arngeir said, before a second wave of energy promptly overtook her. Once she regained her footing, he continued. "You have completed your training, Dragonborn. We would speak to you. Stand between us and prepare yourself. Few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards, but you are ready."

Bishop was seated on the steps outside the front door when the voices came. He pulled Karnwyr into an around-the-ear headlock and covered his own as best as he could with the other to keep his ears from bleeding. He couldn't understand anything they were saying, but damn were they loud. The steps beneath them trembled. The snow on the nearby trees was shaken loose, rocks broke free and tumbled from the side of the pathway to the cliffside below. Once the voices quieted, or he went deaf- he wasn't entirely sure at first; he released his ears and his wolf's head and went back inside.

Just inside the entrance he was met by his bubbly companion wearing the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her, her hair disheveled, and her face flushed. "Well then." He said with a chuckle. "I'm not going to make the blatantly obvious sexual comment regarding your appearance- I just want you to know that I could." He smiled, moving the errant curls out of Eroeh's face. "Thank you. The sound carries in this place something fierce, I'd hate for them to hear you." She giggled, pulling him down by the collar and snatching a quick kiss. "We're staying here for the night, we can head down in the morning. Arngeir is putting a list together of a few word walls they can sense from here for me." She smirked, lightly patting his cheek before turning to walk away. "So, what were they saying to you anyway? I know it was in that freaky dragon language, but I didn't understand a lick of it." He asked as he followed behind, rubbing his cheek where her hand had been. "Apparently, I'm the new Ysmir- the Dragon of the North. Just as Talos himself was before me." She smiled back at him. Bishop's eyebrows shot upwards. "Really now. Well I guess now I can say I managed to seduce a god." He chuckled. She simply shook her head and laughed that high, musical laugh he loved so much. "Are you so sure it wasn't the other way around?" she asked, arching an eyebrow smugly at him. He winked in her direction with a shameless smooch across the space between them, earning another laugh.

As they reached the chambers they'd been allowed to sleep in, Eroeh handed a book to Bishop. The journal, whose leather cover was so worn the original color was indiscernible, was filled with pages upon pages of words in Dovazul and their Tamrielic counterparts. "It belonged to Master Borri. I told them about the dragons at Kynesgrove, so he let me have it to better understand them when they're speaking to me. It even has pronunciations, so I don't sound like a jackass when I'm spouting shit back at them." She smiled. "Yeah, cause that's what you need to do. Piss em off more by telling them you're wearing their mother." Bishop chuckled, the sound low in his throat. "You know, Draugr use the same language. I've always wondered what they were saying to me in the crypts." She mused, changing into Bishops nightshirt and reclining on the uncomfortable single bed that was hers.

Bishop uninterestedly flipped through a few pages, and with a disappointed sigh, passed it back. "Not a single obscenity to be found." He complained before eyeing his own bed. He looked at Eroeh's bed appraisingly, and after a moment, waved her off of it, and placed one of their bedrolls on the shoddy furs and pelts. He then changed into his typical linen pants he slept in at inns, and laid on it, waving a hand over the space next to him. "I hardly think they'll approve of us sharing a bed." She chuckled, changing into the linen tunic he'd given her. "And we care about that, why?" he asked rhetorically. Having no feasible answer she shrugged, curling up with her back against him, his body warm and comfortable behind her as he draped the bear cloak over them, and wrapped his arm around her waist with his nose in her hair. "Night, Princess." He whispered into her snowy curls. "Goodnight, Bishop." She hummed peacefully as she snuggled back into her ranger.

When morning came they bid the Greybeards farewell, taking the list Arngeir made as a parting gift as well as Borri's journal. They arrived in Ivarstead in the early evening, deciding to bother Wilhelm with their presence once more before making their way back to Riverwood. "Evenin' Wilhelm! Did ya miss us?" Eroeh chirped happily, bouncing over to the counter where a rather red-faced Wilhelm sat on a barstool. "Oh, great. Here to clear out my booze again, ya little rascals?" he chuckled, taking the coin Eroeh pressed into his hand. "Oh, don't you know it! We'll take two bowls of whatever's still warm too if that's alright. Don't want to drink on an empty stomach." She giggled, giving the innkeeper a hearty slap on the back.

He smiled in response and stumbled across to the kitchen, slurring the words to 'Ragnar the Red'. "Wonder what he's celebrating." Eroeh muttered to Bishop as they took their place in the corner of the inn. "Why he's celebrating our continued existence, sister!" the all too cheerful Bosmer millworker, Gwilin, chirped from a nearby table. "What are you talking about?" Eroeh asked, cocking her head at the jovial elf. "The Greybeards. Yesterday evening the whole mountain seemed to shake with their shouting, and many of us were unsure if we'd wake today buried in a landslide or avalanche or something else of the sort. Most everyone is merrily drunk today celebrating our continued meager existences!" he exclaimed with a smile, his cheeks tinged pink from drink. "Oops." Bishop snickered, stifling a laugh behind the back of his hand.

"Sorry. That's on me. They were giving me a 'formal greeting', Dragonborn nonsense and all that." Eroeh hastily apologized. "Oh well in that case allow me to buy you and your companion a drink!" Gwilin exclaimed, drunk and excited to be meeting the Dragonborn in person. "Oh, that really isn't necessary. I mean, after all the fuss it's caused I could hardly-" "WILHELM! FIRST ROUND ON ME FOR THE LOVELY DRAGONBORN AND HER COMPANION!" He shouted towards the kitchen as he made his way to the bar. "Oh gods, is it too late to just sleep in the woods? I mean it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you!" She stammered as she attempted to make a break for the door, her face bright red. "Nope, no getting out of it now, Princess. You just had to open your mouth, so now you get to deal with the prestige of your title!" Bishop quipped as he pulled her back into the inn one-handed by the collar of her jacket. "Why do you hate me so much?" Eroeh whined as he led her back to their dark little hidey-hole in the corner. "Now Ladyship, you know full well that isn't the case." He chided, sitting alongside her, holding her dainty hand in his. He kissed the back of it in reassurance, cutting his eyes seductively at her across the table. His amber eyes shined like molten gold in the dim light of the inn. Her nerves were quickly forgotten as her gaze met his.

She was saved, luckily, by the drunken innkeeper making his way to them, bowls of stew cradled in his wide hands with Gwilin close behind, two large pewter mugs of ale at the ready in his grasp. "Ere ya go! Your usual room is open, try not to make too much a mess of it!" Wilhelm said with an awkward, two-eyed wink. Poor man was far in his cups, but at least the food smelled nice. Eroeh turned her eyes to her bowl as her face reddened to a ripe snowberry red. "We'll do our best not to. No promises though." Bishop remarked, flashing a devious grin in her direction. Eroeh cut her eyes at him, bidding him to shut his trap. He ignored her, wiggling his eyebrows and biting his lip across the table at her. Gwilin saw this and went wide-eyed as he placed their tankards on the tabletop, "Well then, you two enjoy your evening!" he awkwardly bid, turning his back and scurrying back to his table with an uncomfortable smile. Eroeh whapped Bishop's shoulder, her lips pursed in frustration. "By the Divines Bishop, I swear I can't take you anywhere!" she chided under her breath. "Say what you may Princess, but they left us alone, didn't they?" He asked, smugly shrugging his shoulders as he moved his bowl to his lap to better mind the door. "That's beside the point…" she awkwardly mumbled into her mug of ale, her eyes glued to the bitter amber liquid inside it. "I do what I can, sweetness." He chuckled, shoveling a spoonful of venison stew into his mouth. Karnwyr sat contentedly by the fire across the inn, gnawing on a rabbit haunch given to him by a drunken patron.

Bishop and Eroeh proceeded to eat the rest of their meal in silence, preferring instead to entertain themselves watching the drunken inhabitants of Ivarstead as they celebrated into the night. The town bard, a beautiful young blonde by the name of Lynly Star-Sung was quite capable, her voice and talent with the lute pleasant to listen to. Lynly played a host of different songs, some she knew, some she didn't, some Eroeh was certain she'd composed herself, and pretty well at that. Sometime into their people watching, Lynly'd started a cheerful tune perfect for dancing. Next thing they'd knew, Gwilin and Temba, the grumpy mill owner, were twirling and laughing; a farmer's daughter, Fastred, was dancing with a young man named Bassianus, spinning merrily to the tune. Part way into the song, Gwilin and Temba separated abruptly, smiling mischievously as they pulled Eroeh and Bishop respectively from their seats. Bishop was scowling, none too thrilled about being dragged onto the floor, but he soon softened as he heard Eroeh's high, musical laughter as Gwilin drunkenly twirled her round the floor. Their plotting was quickly brought to fruition as suddenly they swapped partners, leaving Eroeh in Bishops arms, blushing and smiling ear to ear as they spun round and round. Bishop fought a smile and failed, pulling Eroeh into his chest as he drew her across the floor.

Once the song was complete and the next tune, a slow, intimate melody began, he held her close around the waist, one hand rested on his shoulder, the other holding his own. "Why Bishop, I didn't know you could dance." Eroeh giggled, gazing up at him. "Don't get any dumb ideas, I don't do it often. This has gotta be maybe the second or third time I've bothered with it at all, and the first time I've done it sober." He grumbled, trying to salvage his manly reputation. "If it makes you feel any better, the last time I danced was almost a year ago at a wedding. Didn't get to stay long, though." She sighed. "Oh? And why not?" he asked. "Couldn't afford to hang around after I murdered the blushing bride, now could I?" She laughed sourly, shaking her head at the memory of it. "You fiend." Bishop mockingly chided. "Didn't even let them consummate their marriage first, did you?" he asked, tutting at her. "Nope. Smashed her with a gargoyle during her thank-you speech at the reception in front of everyone in Solitude. You'd think the security would be tighter for the Emperor's kin, but nobody thinks to check the parapet stairs, much less some drunken guard sneaking refreshments." She chuckled. "You know, I remember hearing something about that. If I remember correctly, didn't somebody off old man Titus himself shortly after that?" he asked quietly, cocking a suspicious eyebrow at his petite dancing partner. "Yes." Eroeh answered nervously, leaning closer to him.

Bishop took the hint and leaned down, pressing his cheek against hers as she pretended to whisper sweet nothings in his ear. "He had one of his council members act as a proxy for the contract. It was the only way no one would question his successor. Titus pulled the hit on himself. He made me swear to tell no one of political import before I slit his throat, clean and quick. He did it to try to save the Empire, to try and quiet the part of the rebellion here in Skyrim that was against his choices as Emperor. He sacrificed himself for the good of the Empire." She whispered solemnly, none too proud of her part in his death. "He was a good man, caught between a rock and a hard place. I regret my part in his and Vittoria's deaths." She sighed. "Why did you kill her anyways? Surely there was a reason for it." He asked, his voice low and soft against her ear. "To draw Titus out in the open." She answered quietly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Bishop pulled away and looked at her, her gaze cast to the floor. He released her hand and drew her chin up so her eyes met his. He clenched his jaw tight and leaned into her, pressing his lips against hers in reassurance. "Don't worry, sweetness. Ex-bandit, remember? Trust me, I didn't enjoy my job any more than you did. And that's what it was. A job. Nothing more." He said softly. "But it wasn't a job, Bishop. I told you before I was there for a reason, and survival wasn't it. I have more than enough gold stashed all over the province, you've seen some of it. I was there to destroy them from the inside, to pay them in kind for killing someone they had no business laying a finger on." She explained. "I worked my way up in their ranks until I learned who exactly made the kill, then put an end to them myself." She said, her voice hard. "Lover of yours?" he asked bitterly, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "No, a comrade in arms, nothing more. They discovered that he was ex Morag Tong and killed him for it." She responded bitterly, tilting her face back down, far enough now that her hair fell in the way of her eyes. "Sorry to hear that. Glad you made it out in one piece, though. How'd you get into their little outfit anyhow, I heard they only take in those that catch their attention, and you don't strike me as the assassin type." He inquired. "Easy. I stole a contract. There was a half-starved orphan boy in Windhelm who'd been performing the sacrament loud and long enough that word of it had spread across Skyrim. I spoke with him and he begged me to put an end to that old witch that used to run the Riften orphanage. After I returned to let him know she was good and dead, I rented a room at Candlehearth Hall, went to sleep, and woke up in a shitty old shack in the Hjaalmarch swamps, not far from Ustengrav. My try out was held then and there and I impressed their leader enough to be deemed worthy of an invite. The rest is history." She finished, her voice cold and apathetic.

Bishop kept his arm around her waist, kissed her temple softly, and guided her towards their room for the evening. Looking back at Karnwyr he whistled sharply, earning him an uninterested huff from the dozing wolf. With a shrug he walked her into the room and closed the door behind them, taking in a long breath as the noise of the inn muffled behind the heavy wooden door. "You know, I love these little talks of ours. It's always interesting to learn just how off my assumptions are about you." He chuckled as he sat at the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him in invitation. He lazily kicked off his boots as she sat down. She eyed him as she unbuckled her own, watching the serene expression on his face as if he were pleased with what she'd told him. "You know, sometimes it feels like I'm the only one sharing anything. Why don't you tell me about your past for once?" She sassed, unclasping her leg guards and pulling them down. "Not much to tell. I started ranging about seven or so years ago. People found out I could track runaways or hunt meals for fat, lazy nobles or whatever. They had gold and I had a bow, simple as that. I already told you about my being a bandit, though I'd rather just forget about that part of my life. Nothing but trouble came from it." He sighed, unbuckling his jacket and draping it along with his undershirt over the rooms singular chair.

Bishop turned towards her, his eyes weary with thought and face solemn. He looked much older in that moment, the years of strife and heartache showing through the mask of careless charm he worked so hard to maintain. Eroeh met his weary look with one of her own, her pale hazel eyes soft in a show of understanding. "We've both done things we weren't proud of Bishop, it doesn't make us any less human than the next person. Embrace your decisions, they helped shape you into the man you are now." She whispered, cupping his jaw in her had and stroking his scruffy cheek with her thumb. "With that look in your eyes and this beard you've left unchecked, you look so much older than you should. All you're missing is a sprinkling of gray hairs." She giggled softly, easing the tension of the moment. "I mean really Bishop, it's almost long enough now to drag you around by!" she laughed, lightly tugging his facial hair. "Get over here and kiss me, old man. Show me you've still got some fight left in you." She purred, smiling deviously at him as her eyes darkened with desire. "C'mere young'un. Let me show you how they did things back in my day." He laughed, his voice husky as he leaned into her and pushed her back onto the bed. "Mmmmh, try not to over-exert yourself old-timer, we can't have you keeling over on top of me." She laughed as he pressed his lips to hers, her legs wrapped firmly around his waist and arms around his shoulders.

As if on cue, Bishop feigned a death-rattle and collapsed on top of her, his limp body becoming a mound of dead weight pinning her to the mattress beneath them. Eroeh let out a surprised squeak before she burst into laughter trying to push the much larger man off of her. "Sweet Divines you're heavy! That's it, nothing but nuts and berries for you mister, I'm putting you on a diet!" she strained between fits of laughter. That prompted him to sag further into her. "Bishop!" she shrieked, fighting for breath. He chose then to grind his clothed lower half against hers, starting the laughter all over again. "Gods Bishop, get up so I can breathe you heavy bastard!" she laughed. He relented, drawing his torso up enough to give her lungs room to function, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. His hot breath and low growling chuckle against her sensitive elven ear caused her face to flush snowberry red and her breath to hitch. She let out a small, involuntary moan, her eyes fluttering at the sensation of his lips on her throat.

Eroeh jumped as the scruffy hair above his lips brushed against her and pushed her eager companion away as politely as she could. "Okay, before we move forward, please do something about the scruff. I can't focus if it keeps tickling me. The stubbly shadow I love, the beard not so much." She giggled. He sighed and relented, rubbing his jaw and nodding in agreement. "Can I at least keep the moustache?" he asked with a whine. "No. the moustache is the worst part." She laughed, removing her bracers and corset as he moved to a nearby table with a fresh basin of water and a rag.

He drew his dagger, wet his face, and set to shaving, slowly dragging the edge of the blade across the planes of his face, feeling his way around. "You know, I keep expecting you to slip up and nick yourself shaving blind like that." Eroeh chuckled, moving closer to him to better watch. "I've been shaving like this, with this very knife, since I was seventeen. I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing by now, Princess." He said flatly, running his fingertips over the planes of his cheeks and jaw to check for any missed patches. "Are you're sure I can't keep the 'stache?" he whined, pleading like a child begging to keep a stray dog. "No, you look ridiculous with just a moustache." She laughed, playfully whapping his shoulder. He chuckled as he carefully removed the lip hair, wiping his face with the clean towel and waving his arms in a dramatic ta-da gesture. "Better?" he asked his smiling companion. "Much better." She responded, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing his bare, muscular chest. "Now, where were we?" she purred.

~~~~~LEMON BEGINS HERE~~~~~

Bishop grasped her hands one at a time and slid them up to his shoulders, kissing her knuckles as he moved them. Once her hands were out of his way he leaned into her, molding his lips to hers and fell under the spell that was the taste of Eroeh. He wrapped his arms around her and caressed her hips, carefully working his hands under her camisole and lifting it as he ran his fingertips up her sides to her ribcage. Catching the hint, she shed the leather that fit her like a second skin, leaving her exposed to the cool air of the room. He locked eyes with her then, his eyes smoldering like molten gold as his fingertips traced down to the waist of her shorts, deftly unbuckling her belt and unclasping the rows of hooks that kept them securely on.

As her shorts fell, so did his pants, without him ever feeling it happening. He'd been eyeing her so intensely that he hadn't seen or felt her hands move down from his chest to his belt. "You should really introduce me to your teacher someday, I need to figure out how you keep doing that." He laughed, drawing her bare body against his before kissing her again. "Someday, sweetheart, I just might." She giggled against his lips, wrapping her arms behind his head and tiptoeing up to meet his kiss. With a low chuckle, Bishop ran his arms down her hips to cup her ass, lifting her up. She responded by wrapping her legs tight around his waist, a heated moan escaping her lips. With one hand firmly grasping her ass and the other across her back, Bishop took the few steps towards their bed and sat on its edge, his erection pressing upwards against the warmth off Eroeh's core. She responded to the sensation by reaching down with one hand and stroking along the length of him, her kiss moving from his mouth to the warm hollow of his jaw, where she could feel his heartbeat pulsing thickest against her lips. He ground his hips upwards against her as he groaned her name, the sound a hoarse growl in her ear. Eroeh tilted into the sensation, nipping the lobe of his unguarded ear as she tightened her grasp on his member.

Bishop could only take so much before moving further onto the bed, laying on his back with Eroeh's hips straddling his. She stretched over the top of him, slowly kissing from his mouth to his throat, across the hollow of his collarbone, and down the muscles of his torso, arching her back and rubbing her core down the length of him before carefully sliding the length of him inside herself. "Fuck, Eroeh." Bishop gasped as the velvety warmth of her tightened around his throbbing manhood. He held her by the hips as she rode him, drawing her hips up and back down 'til flesh met flesh, the tip of Bishop pressing against the end of Eroeh, bringing on a sensation that had them both fighting to control themselves. "Oh gods! Bishop-" she cried out as he thrust against her, spurring her climax into action. Bishop fought to maintain his self-control, holding out until her velvety depths stopped spasming around him and her movement slowed.

Once she was calm enough he pulled himself from her and turned her around, placing himself behind her with his hands on her hips. Eroeh figured what was next and flattened her chest to the bed, raising her hips to meet his, her knees spread wide and legs rested outside of his. "You sure you're new to this?" Bishop chuckled, his voice low as he slowly slipped himself inside her. "Just because… I haven't done it myself doesn't mean… ah, that I didn't ask for pointers." She managed between moans. "There's a… ah, brothel in Cyrodiil that gives… hah, gives me room and board from time to time in… mmmh exchange for performing when I… hah- pass through the Imperial City." She struggled to say as he picked up his pace, rolling his hips as he thrust inside her, causing her to cry out again. To quiet herself, Eroeh drew a hand to her face, biting into the meat of her thumb.

With a devious smile Bishop wrapped an arm around her middle, drawing her up into his lap with his chest at her back. The change tightened her around him, and she threw her arms back around his head, her moans barely contained by her teeth digging into her lower lip. Bishop buried his face in the warmth of her neck, his breath and lips hot against her skin. He snaked one arm around her ribcage, his hand full of the soft flesh of her breast. His other was around the front of her hips, massaging the bundle of nerves that would be both of their undoing. Writhing against his hand and grinding along the length of him she found herself drowning in the sensation of climax once more, the blissful heat burning through her as she cried out his name in a shattered gasp. Her outcry tipped the pressure building at the base of his spine over the edge. He spent himself inside her, his finish coming with a hoarse groan and clenched teeth, his arms wrapped tight around her as he fought to stay upright.

~~~~~LEMON ENDS HERE~~~~~

When her body relaxed around him and his stopped throbbing in release, Bishop carefully lowered her to the mattress, her breathing as ragged as his own. "You okay over there, Princess?" he asked with a chuckle. Her response was two lazy thumbs up. She huffed as she dropped her arms back flat against the mattress next to her head. Bishop laughed as he walked to the small table where the basin of water and full pitcher sat, taking the spare rag from the table and setting it within his exhausted companions reach so they could clean up before bed. Once the remnants of their activities were sufficiently wiped away, Bishop dumped the bowl onto the stone floor. "It'll soak up overnight." He said before Eroeh could ask. Taking the pitcher, he refilled the basin, they crawled into the bed, and drifted off to sleep.