He led her back towards the tavern, Karnwyr whining in disappointment at the lack of action during their outing.
They sat back at the table as Bishop let his pack fall back on the ground with a loud thud.
The tavern was still really lively, the patrons constantly laughing and singing while some of them appeared to be wobbling considerably more than when they left.
Bishop pushed Aeyrin's tankard towards her, still half full of their second serving of Dragon's Breath.
"First, drink. Down in one," he commanded.
She looked at the liquid hesitantly but didn't say anything. She took a deep breath and started to pour the strong mead into her mouth, ignoring the unpleasant burning at the back of her throat. Her eyes watered a bit as she tried hard to keep her breathing calm and not gagging on the amount of the hard liquor but she managed in the end, putting the tankard down with a hoarse cough.
Bishop gave her a pleased smirked, then he leaned in, his face suddenly serious: "Here's the thing, ladyship. You need to loosen up a little. You say you want to experience all the life outside your temple, but you can't really do that while you still shy away from half of it."
She gave him a frown, eyeing him warily.
"I gave you a promise and I'll keep that," his eyes turned strangely sincere for a bit. "I'll give you another one. I promise I won't make you do anything you'll regret."
He paused for a bit, looking around the tavern, stopping at the singing server and the crowd around her, a smile forming on his lips.
"Do you trust me, sweetness?" he turned back to her, his eyes looking deeply into hers.
She smiled demurely, nodding at him.
He got up and walked towards the crowd, stopping by the serving girl and explaining something to her vehemently, inclining his head towards Aeyrin a few times. Aeyrin was eyeing him with suspicion when he returned, motioning for the bartender to get them two more tankards.
"We drink another one. Then you're gonna sing for me," he smirked at her.
She rolled her eyes at him with a smile, shrugging her shoulders. She did expect something she hasn't done before.
"Not here though, you're gonna get on top of the bar, sing and dance. The girl will play something for you," he smirked at her, realizing himself after a while: "Right. You can talk now."
Aeyrin shook her head at him frantically. "I can't dance! And what if I don't know the song she plays?" she gave him an accusing look. Whenever she heard a bard play in Skyrim, she never recognized any of the songs. They were all so… Nordic. All about some ancient heroic deeds and war. She liked the songs she learned in Cyrodiil much more, about daring pirates, noble thieves or star-crossed lovers.
"So?" he laughed. "You'll make something up. Isn't art to be 'celebrated in all forms' or something like that?"
She gave him a pleading look, but he only smirked again, raising his tankard, gouging her to drink too.
"You throw yourself at giants and dragons with no hesitation and now you're scared?" he laughed taking a large swig of his drink. "Also, you're matching me drink for drink tonight. Whenever I'm done with the mug, you're downing the rest of yours," he winked.
"I thought you wanted me to loosen up, not kill myself," she grumbled, trying to drink as much of her drink as she could so that there wouldn't be a lot left after.
Bishop finished his drink rather quickly but she managed to keep up, her head was spinning wildly though. He motioned for two more drinks and then signaled the serving girl.
She walked towards the bar, bringing her lute with her, talking to the innkeeper for a while who rolled his eyes but nodded eventually.
Bishop led Aeyrin towards the bar while she wobbled a bit, at times trying to escape him. Her cheeks were a shade of deep red, both from the drink and from the embarrassment.
"My friends, today we have a travelling bardess vising us. She wanted to entertain you all with a song and a dance."
The crowd, highly inebriated, started to hoot and cheer.
Aeyrin tried to hide into Bishop's chest, blushing fiercely but instead he grabbed her waist firmly and pulled her up on the bar, eliciting a yelp from her. He gave her a smug smirk as he stepped back a bit, folding his arms across his chest expectantly.
She stood up on the bar, stumbling a bit, the ground below her spinning and her vision a bit blurry. The crowd gathered around, most of them staggering even worse than she was. One of the drunken men yelled at her to get naked, getting a laugh from the crowd and making her even more embarrassed. Normally, singing was the only time she didn't feel overwhelmed by attention and crowds, but this time it was different. The knowledge, that this performance was in no way to celebrate art, but rather to embarrass her made her all too anxious.
The served cleared her throat to quiet them and struck up a tune.
Aeyrin heard it before, somewhere in Skyrim, but she couldn't really recall it. Some words came to her vaguely, but mostly her mind was blank. She started to sway to the music, feeling rather like a shot animal on its last legs. She tried hard to remember the words and started to sing, slurring her speech lightly every now and then:
There once was a… Nord named… someone… the Bad
He was riding to Whiterun from… because he was sad!
And that… Nord… he waved… waved around his blade,
And he… bragged and… drank mead…. and he never paid!
But then… he went quiet… 'cause someone got… mad
And… I think there was…. a woman? She said...
You talk… don't pay …. and drink all the mead!
And… that's bad… so… now you bleed!
And… then they fought…. she fed him the grass…
'Cause he drank all the mead… and he was an ass!
Despite her clear ignorance of this possibly very popular song, the crowd seemed entertained.
She wasn't even sure if she managed to fit the words to the music and she staggered back and forth at the bar, at times kicking out with her feet clumsily.
The crowd however found the performance very satisfying, laughing loudly at her cheerful stumbling and the excited expression in her face every time she actually thought of a rhyme. Some of them were hooting loudly and there were one or two more or less sober Nords in the back who seemed a bit disgruntled, but most of the patrons clapped excitedly at the mangled song.
Aeyrin giggled and took a bow proudly, her anxiety completely gone, replaced only by jovial merriment. When she straightened back up, however, her balance betrayed her and she stumbled, her feet twisting over each other as she plummeted off the bar.
Before she ever realized what happened she found herself in Bishop's arms, one of his arms around her back, the other below her knees.
The crowd clapped again and hooted at his nimble reaction, some of them yelling for him to put her back so that she could sing again.
Bishop ignored them, holding her to his chest, looking deeply into her glassy eyes.
"Kiss me," he commanded her again.
She didn't even think before she obeyed, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. The aftertaste of the strong mead on his lips was so sweet like honey with a strange fiery sting to it. They kissed for a while, the crowd laughing around and yelling at them.
"Hey, put her back, I wanna catch her next time!" one of them giggled sloppily, pulling Bishop by the shoulder.
Bishop sat her on the bar swiftly, his lips never parting from hers, his tongue eagerly probing her mouth. He pushed the drunkard away from him pulling himself more firmly against her, nestled between her thighs, her breasts pressed against his upper chest as his hands roamed her back, sliding slowly lower.
She was starting to feel really dizzy, her head spinning both from her inebriation and from the intense kiss.
One of her hands left his surprisingly soft hair, she swung it towards the bar, trying to support herself, to ensure she wasn't falling. Her hand hit something on the way, a shatter echoing on the ground behind the bar.
"Off! And you're paying for that!" she was suddenly pushed off the bar, stumbling into both Bishop and one of the bar stools.
This made them part at last, both breathing heavily as some of the patrons still hollered and laughed at them.
"Come," Bishop said suddenly, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her from the tavern, away from the loud crowd.
They ran outside, still out of breath.
The night was so quiet. The only sounds around were the crickets and rustling of leaves in the wind.
Before she could catch her breath properly, Bishop spun her around, pinning her to the wooden wall of the tavern.
His mouth descended on hers again, continuing the passionate exchange. His hands grasped her wrists and pressed them against the wall, leaving her completely trapped.
She wasn't able to think rationally, the world was spinning around her, all she was able to think about was his hard muscular body pressed against her, the sweet taste of mead on his tongue, his strong arms gripping her firmly. She was becoming more and more aware of the strangely pleasant pit in her stomach. Everything seemed to be happening so fast and in such chaos. She normally hated that; she got overwhelmed so quickly. Why was this different?
His grip loosened as his hands stroked over her arms, traveling over her flanks, brushing lightly at the sides of her breasts. She felt her breath catch in her throat at his touch, his lips moving towards her jaw, then her neck, kissing her wildly and softly biting her flesh.
His hands continued their journey over her back and lower, settling firmly on her backside, squeezing it tightly.
He suddenly grasped the back of her upper thighs, hoisting her upwards, pressing her against the wall. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he pinned her even more firmly against him, eliciting a surprised gasp from her. His lips moved eagerly towards her cleavage, his hips pressing into her, making himself grind against her a few times, his excitement at their ministration palpable through their clothing.
She moaned softly, not being able to help herself. She was still unable to think clearly, her head only filled with the unfamiliar sensations, surprising jolts coursing through her body with every movement he made.
A second later he pulled back, letting her land on her feet weakly, an alarmed expression etched on his face for a split second before an exasperated smirk appeared instead.
"Fuck, sweetness," he breathed heavily as she tried to steady herself against the wall. "You make it so fucking hard to keep that promise."
He stroked her cheek, the frantic mood gone with his suddenly gentle approach. "Go back inside. I'm… gonna need a minute," he cringed a bit but she obeyed immediately, running back into the tavern to gather her thoughts.
…
"There you are!"
She yelped in surprise as she staggered into one of the drunken patrons. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her closer, making her falter on her wobbly feet.
"I want a kiss too!" his face started to get dangerously close to her, his grip seemed stronger than he looked. His breath smelled like old eggs and ale and his thick beard was full of either spilled drink or in worse case his own saliva.
"No! Let go!" Aeyrin cried out, trying to pull away, but his firm grip didn't let her.
There were some voices calling out to them from other sides of the tavern but he didn't seem fazed, determinedly pulling Aeyrin towards him.
Everything was still so fast. She didn't have time to think. She hated that feeling now.
Her fist clenched almost without her knowledge as it shot up, hitting the man square in the jaw, making him sputter a bit of blood on her tunic before he toppled to the ground.
He groaned in pain, pulling himself up on his feet.
Aeyrin stared at him in shock. She's never attacked a civilian, even if they were being aggressive. This really wasn't her idea of loosening up.
"Are you alright?"
She blinked as she looked around, the server was looking at her with a worried expression, the man she attacked was yelling something, raising his fist at her as the innkeeper was dragging him outside forcefully.
"Sorry about him, we don't really know him around here… probably one of the pilgrims. He's not welcome here anymore, that's for sure," the server smiled at her warmly, putting her hand on her shoulder. "Maybe no more drinks tonight. It seems it's got out of hand," she sighed, pulling a rag from her apron and cleaning the blood spattered on the ground.
"What's with the horker-fucker yelling outside?" she heard Bishop chuckle as he returned to the tavern, the serving girl still cleaning the blood on the floor while she stood still, trying to compose herself.
"He got a little friendly with your friend here and earned himself some missing teeth," the server smirked as she straightened up.
Bishop looked Aeyrin up and down, his eyebrows creasing in a frown, then a surprised expression appeared on his face as he noticed the blood on her tunic.
"You punched him?" he smirked, looking a bit impressed.
"I… I didn't mean to… it was… so fast," Aeyrin stuttered.
This was not how she was supposed to deal with problems, hurting people as her first response. He was drunk and probably didn't even know what he was doing.
"You didn't mean to? Why not?" the server laughed. "He had it coming," she turned to Bishop nodding with approval.
The server went back towards the bar while Bishop was still looking at Aeyrin, watching the turmoil on her face.
"Come, sit," he nodded towards their table after a while.
She followed him, trying to replay in her head all that happened. It was so vague and blurry, she remembered his arms holding her firmly, but surely if she tried harder, or waited for the other patrons to help…
"What's with you? The girl says he was bothering you. Why are you so upset over it?" Bishop frowned at her.
"I could have… handled it different… differently," she lowered her gaze, slurring her words a bit. Her head was still spinning but she couldn't get the image of that man on the ground out of her head.
"You handled it fine. He stopped, didn't he? Problem solved," he shrugged.
The server brought them both a mug of water in the meantime, despite the full tankards of strong mead in front of them.
"Violence should only… be a last resort… there are other…"
"Really?" he interrupted her, "Because you don't seem that fucking concerned when you go chasing after skooma traders."
Her eyes flashed with anger for a while, the same way they did back in Riften: "Those people ruin lives for… for gold. World needs to be rid of… of them."
Bishop smirked: "Yeah… some people need a blade in their gut… or a mace in their face. Some need a good punch."
"I don't want to deal with… things like that…" she sighed sadly, still feeling ashamed for betraying her teachings. She met and healed plenty of drunks and otherwise delirious people in the temple. Sometimes they struggled and got aggressive, but it was her duty to help and never to fight back.
"He was drunk… he wasn't responsible for…" she sighed.
"You're drunk," he smirked.
"S'not… not the same…" she wavered for a bit. She was still really drunk… maybe that's why the incident got to her that much.
"It was his own damn fault he was drunk. Or do you hold everyone to that? Because fuck, princess, if I knew that, I wouldn't have stopped," he gave her a suggestive look followed by a laugh.
She thought of what he said for a while… suddenly thinking of her father for some reason. He was not responsible for what he did in his delirium, but she still felt bitter towards him. Why? He was sick and he was never helped. Why was she angry at him then? It was her own failing, not willing to let go of past hurts when she knew better, when she knew they should be forgiven. Her head was starting to hurt.
"Last orders, sweetness," Bishop pushed the mug of water towards her, seeing her conflicted expression, her eyes still glassy… well… as glassy as they could be, her cheeks still red from the strong mead.
She drank the water obligingly, waiting for him to continue. She didn't feel like playing games anymore, but she did agree to the terms.
Bishop draped his arm over her shoulder, pressing her close to him, then laying a surprisingly gentle kiss on the top of her head.
"Stop thinking about it," he whispered with an encouraging smile.
She couldn't help but smile at how caring he seemed at times. She nuzzled her head into his chest, trying her best to keep her mind off those thoughts.
She thought back on the happenings of the evening before the incident. It was all somewhat blurry, but she did remember the feeling clearly – his lips on her skin, his arms enveloping her, hands stroking her flesh. She was grateful that he stopped, because she might not have been able to.
"Let's go to bed, princess," he gave her another kiss on her head and stood up, his hand still on her shoulder as he led her to his room.
She gave him a questioning look when he closed the doors behind them, but after what happened outside, she was sure she could trust him to keep his promise.
"To be fair, we did share a bed before," he smirked as he kicked off his boots, laying himself on the bed against the wall and outstretching his arms, reminding her exactly of the night at the hunter's rest.
She only shook her head with an exasperated smile, lying next to him, making herself comfortable against his body, glad not to be alone for the rest of the night.