Chapter LIX – The Sung Heroes

They travelled again across the Whiterun plains, mostly staying out of the roads to make the journey shorter.

They passed along the mountains lining the plains to the north towards the village of Rorikstead.

With Delphine's 'urgency' they still had plenty of time on the road, which they used to stock up on some loot to sell from several nearby caverns.

Solitude was sure to be more expensive after all. According to Bishop, it attracted most of Skyrim's 'nobility' – whatever that meant. Aeyrin wondered if that included thanes. She was, however, under no illusion of thinking that she would ever fit in anywhere – even if they didn't care about her race, she was hardly someone who exuded refinement.

She always thought that she would do fine in a more 'cultured' environment due to her upbringing in the temple, but both during the party with Mercer and at Alec's performance, she realized that she stuck out like a sore thumb.

She always felt so uncomfortable in these situations.

They arrived in Rorikstead before nightfall, heading straight for the Frostfruit Inn.

The innkeeper grumbled at them when they entered, a few patrons raising their head at their arrival, then turning back to their tankards disinterestedly.

Aeyrin headed to the bar to order their food and drinks right away – they only sustained themselves on some dried meat on the way, devoting their time to raiding dungeons instead of setting camp an cooking something, making them so starved they didn't even dispose of their armors beforehand.

"It's still better than your food. You should take another lesson from Lydia," Aeyrin grinned at Bishop in between stuffing herself with beef stew hungrily.

He narrowed his eyes at her but smirked and shook his head after a while.

It's not as if Lydia gave him some groundbreaking advice, just some shit about seasoning, but it was better to have food that was actually more than sustenance even on the road. Maybe she could help even more eventually.

They ordered a veritable feast for dinner, leaving a lot of their savings depleted again.

Most of the jarl's reward was spent back in Whiterun on home furnishings and the rest was used mostly for supplies and food and beds in inns.

Luckily, they got some nice loot from the day's plunders, but there was no good place to sell it until they made their way to Solitude.

Aeyrin decided to offer to play in the tavern – all the patrons looked kind of bored, maybe they would enjoy some entertainment and she could earn some extra coin. They were planning on stopping in another village for the night before actually making it to Solitude and they needed the coin for their stay.

The innkeeper didn't look all that excited about her offer to play for pay but he did agree.

Luckily the patrons showed more enthusiasm – there was nothing as disheartening as playing for a disinterested audience. She knew that her music should be more of an expression of self, to experience the beauty of art as Dibella intended without the regard for the listeners, but that was much easier said than done.

Anyone would be affected by their surrounding crowd.

Luckily, those days seemed to be behind her.

She did perform a few times when she was starting up playing publicly and was met with complete indifference, but the more songs she learned and perfected, the more natural she felt in front of people with her lute.

It was so much different from being the center of attention for other reasons, such as being the Dragonborn. This didn't make her anxious at all – it felt like they were watching her music, not her.

In some cases, that may not have been true but she was still hopeful that it was true in most of them.

She went to their room to shake off her armor and underchain before getting back to the common room, lute in hand.

She sang a song she learned from a group of travelling bards back at Brinna Cross Inn – it originated in Wayrest and told the tale of the fall of the sorcerer king Ranser.

They reclined in the common room for a while comfortably after her performance, ordering another round of drinks before they went to rest up for their upcoming journey.

Bishop's eyes fell on a young man staring into their direction.

He noticed him looking over to them the whole evening, especially staring at Aeyrin while she sang. Well… everyone was staring at her while she sang, but that boy was bugging him.

Bishop threw him a mean look at which point the young man looked away immediately, looking half-embarrassed and half-scared.

"Who are you scowling at now?" Aeyrin chuckled as she noticed his expression – he was constantly scowling at everyone. How was that fun? It seemed an exhausting amount of effort to her.

He smirked at her but his eyes returned back to the young man who was now getting up from his feet and heading towards them.

He was braver than he thought.

"Umm… hi," the young man waved when he stopped by their table.

He had light amber hair and patchy stubble, his clothes were dirty and baggy but it was obvious he was quite bulky and strong underneath – likely the result of years of hard farm work. There was really not much else than farms in Rorikstead – it was easy to assume.

"Hi. This is who you've been scowling at?" Aeyrin gave the man a kind smile before turning to Bishop admonishingly. "Don't mind him, he scowls at everyone, it's not personal," she chuckled at the man lightheartedly, eliciting an exaggerated eye roll from Bishop.

"Oh… alright. I just wanted to… could I?" he pointed to a free stool at their table, sitting himself down after Aeyrin nodded at him.

"I'm Erik. We don't get that many adventurers stopping by the village. Maybe it's the lack of shops," he smiled shaking his head a bit disappointedly. "And those that do don't usually look… friendly..." he glanced at Bishop briefly, eliciting a chuckle from Aeyrin.

"Yeah… the 'unfriendly ones' give us all a bad name," she laughed, poking Bishop teasingly in the upper arm.

He only rolled his eyes again, but at least he gave the scowling some rest.

"It must be an exciting life. All the danger and fighting… I wish I could do that," he sighed wistfully looking past them as if at something faraway.

"Why can't you? Grab a pitchfork and go stab a dragon or something," Bishop shrugged with a smirk, taking a swig from his tankard.

"D-dragon?! By Ysmir, I hope I don't see one ever," Erik's expression got significantly more nervous before he got back to his point. "I would like to try my hand at adventuring though. But my father doesn't approve," he sighed sadly, looking down at the table.

"Fuck your father then. Just go kill something if you want," Bishop shrugged seemingly disinterestedly, but she knew that he would hardly engage this much if he was actually indifferent.

He seemed to have a thing for encouraging people to break away from their upbringings and environments. Aeyrin recalled how he convinced her of the pointlessness of ascribing her new experiences to spiritual reasons – he seemed adamant that she should be doing things for herself rather than her faith, not realizing that it was the same thing to her.

It couldn't have been easy for the boy to go against his father. Voluntarily abandoning family never was, no matter how unhealthy the relationships could be.

She would know.

It's not as if she wasn't still thinking about her own father at times.

Erik gave Bishop a bashful shake of his head, signaling his reluctance to just abandon his father due to differing opinions on his future.

"Why don't you start small? Help with some local trouble, then come back home. Show your father that you can do this one step at a time," Aeyrin smiled at him encouragingly. She noticed the family resemblance with the innkeeper – the older man certainly looked grumpy and stern enough to make his son squirm from his disapproval.

"I have thought of that! I even… well, there's been talk of strange noises in a nearby homestead. No one saw the owner for some time. I hoped to investigate, but… father thinks it's something horrible. Like a vampire or a Daedra. And I don't even have any equipment… I can't afford it," he sighed in desperation, giving them a helpless look.

"A… Daedra? Here? Why would he think so?" Aeyrin's eyes went wide at the boy. What would a Daedra even want with an ordinary hut by an ordinary village?

"I don't know… just old wives' tales. But if they're right…" the boy sighed.

They explored caverns in the vicinity and never found anything besides wild animals, trolls or bandits – it was hard to believe something so vicious would be nearby only because of some strange noises.

Then again, there was a vampire nest near Morthal after all and no one knew a thing.

Anything was possible and this boy could get himself killed if he ever decided to disobey his father.

"How about this, Erik? We have some extra equipment we were going to sell. You're welcome to it. We'll accompany you to the homestead and see what's in there together," she explained reassuringly.

It's not like they didn't have some other loot to sell besides the armor and weapons they gathered – sure, it would dip into their funds, but it was worthwhile to help a young man on his path. He would see whether adventuring was really for him after a small expedition.

Bishop of course didn't seem to think so, throwing Aeyrin an accusatory look at giving away their loot. Luckily he didn't say anything, knowing full well that arguing was pointless.

"You would do that?!" Erik gasped excitedly. "You're amazing!" his smile gave out a bit more reverence than necessary as he gaped at her. "I… uh… both of you, I mean…" he gave Bishop an uncertain look when he noticed his scowl return.

Aeyrin rummaged through their packs to find him some suitable equipment.

Erik did seem a bit perturbed by the fact that most of it was pried from corpses, but he needed to get used to this if he was going to be an adventurer – it wasn't as if perfectly preserved arms and armor waited for him in ancient barrows on displays.

"Talk to your father, tell him we'll make sure nothing happens to you. We'll head out in the morning," she smiled at the excited young man as they got up to get some rest.

Bishop draped his arm around Aeyrin's waist pointedly before leading them to their room, making sure that Erik would notice and dispense with the puppy eyes.

She didn't seem to notice his ulterior motive.

Good.

It's not like the boy was a threat in any way, but it still pissed him off whenever someone leered at her like he didn't exist, like it wasn't obvious that she was his.

He had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate the sentiment though.

The four of them headed towards the nearby hut the next day after a hearty breakfast – yet another dip into their depleting funds.

Erik managed to convince his father that the expedition was only very short and that he would be fine and protected, although it took a lot of work on his part.

He was a bit surprised that they were travelling with a wolf of all things, but got over himself rather quickly. It was a good sign that he was easily adaptable – this lifestyle required it.

The young man was getting increasingly nervous as they approached their destination.

They stopped at the door to the hut, listening intently.

There were high-pitched squeaks coming out, which could have been any rat or bat, but there was also something else. A strange scraping and screeching sound which penetrated through the narrow cracks in the moldered wood.

"Do you know what it could be?" Erik whispered uncomfortably as they shook their heads in negation.

Karnwyr seemed rather calm though. If it were a vampire, he'd no doubt smell it, just like he did with Alva.

Then again, they never encountered a Daedra before, except for a summoned atronach, so who knew what he would do in that case?

Aeyrin took the front line, first testing to see if the door was locked. It was, but the wooden structure was so old and rickety that there was no point in wasting time picking it. She kicked down the moldered planks with ease and lunged inside, followed by the now riled up wolf and the nervous young adventurer.

She stopped within a second, staring at the scene in front of her in bewilderment.

It was so… anticlimactic.

There were at least seven skeevers crawling around the homestead and a corpse on the bed, gnawed upon and half-rotten already. Furthermore, there was one particularly cheeky skeever, scraping at something it its claws, gnawing at it all the while, creating the strange grating sounds.

It must have been made of glass or something similar to make such noise.

The skeevers turned on them almost immediately, attacking both Karnwyr and Erik as Bishop and Aeyrin stood by the doorway, watching the fight, both wearing a deeply disappointed expression.

There was really no need to rush into battle with some skeevers, Karnwyr alone could have taken care of them and at least Erik wasn't in any danger.

The young adventurer hacked at the creatures with his new handaxe, dispatching them rather quickly.

After that was over, he looked at the corpse, studying it for a while before he turned to Aeyrin and Bishop.

"This is… did the skeevers kill him?" he frowned with a conflicted expression on his face.

"Not likely. They're scavengers. They don't attack unless threatened. They must have smelled the corpse," Bishop shrugged, pointing to the dug-out hole on the cabin floor – large enough for the skeevers to squeeze through.

Aeyrin walked over to the skeever carcass that was making all the noise previously, nudging the body away with her foot and uncovering a slightly misshapen round object, glittering with a myriad of blue and green hues.

"Look! Here's Lund's journal!" Erik yelled out excitedly while he was searching through the cabin. "Here… the last entry. 'Finally I can pay for the medicine! With the treasure I fished out, I will live like the High King soon.'" Erik looked around in confusion.

"There's treasure?!" he exclaimed excitedly, obviously ecstatic that there was something more thrilling about their expedition than the skeevers.

"I think he meant this," Aeyrin raised the pearl up – it was the size of an ironwood nut, likely indeed fetching a pretty price.

"Poor man must have been really sick," she sighed, thinking that the small treasure could have really been his salvation. Back in Chorrol, they treated anyone, even if they had no money. She wondered if that was the case in Skyrim too – they certainly had to pay every time.

Maybe that was just one of the initiatives of the priests of Stendarr. Perhaps it wasn't even the case for other chapels in Cyrodiil.

Erik sighed sadly, shaking his head.

His breastplate was covered in skeever blood and he really did look like a hardened adventurer right then.

"You can have the pearl, Erik. It was your tip that got us here after all," Aeyrin smiled at him, handing him the only loot they could gather from the modest home.

"Thank you… but… it's not why I came here… My father will never think me ready for the world for killing a bunch of skeevers."

He looked so crestfallen.

Even Bishop felt a bit sorry for him. He still didn't get why he bothered catering to his father's wishes, but… maybe the man had some redeeming qualities… he was likely projecting his own distaste to conform to one's parents.

"So? Don't tell him that. Just tell him it was a fucking vampire or something," Bishop shrugged, folding his arms across his chest with feigned disinterest.

"I… you think so? But… what if I'm really not ready?" Erik looked at Bishop nervously but with a surprisingly hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

"You're fine, kid. You handle the weapon well. Just keep to some wild animals for a while and you'll get the better hang of it," he waved his hand dismissively at Erik whose expression became more and more excited.

"We can back you up about the vampire. Just make sure you're careful afterwards," Aeyrin smiled at him encouragingly.

She couldn't help but be a bit proud of how supportive Bishop was of Erik, despite his apparent indifference. She did notice that he was gradually less opposed to warming up to people during their travels, but it likely was mostly due to him being less grumpy with their developing relationship.

He must have been lonely before – after all, he did seem friendly with the people in Darkwater Crossing, maybe something happened to him before they met that made him withdraw himself.

Erik spun the tale masterfully and the whole village hailed him as a hero.

Aeyrin and Bishop confirmed that they didn't even manage to intervene before he slayed the vampire and took away the small treasure that the creature wanted to take from Lund – aside from his blood, that is.

They claimed that the beast has been staying at the hut for some time after, feeding on both Lund and skeevers that got into the place.

They burned the vampire after Erik killed it, just in case, leaving nothing but ashes.

It was the perfect cover and Erik's father actually looked proud and touched as his son boasted of his deeds.

They left the villagers to their celebrations after several hours, heading back towards their original destination.

After only an hour of travel, before reaching Dragon Bridge, they were forced to make another stop after an unexpected encounter with a large clutter of frostbite spiders.

Their armor was wreathed in spider webs, sticky and hard to move in.

They stopped near a bridge only a short distance away from the village, the sun already setting on the horizon.

They unfastened their armors, leaving themselves only in their clothing, working on getting the worst of the cobwebs out at least a little before they reached the settlement.

They were forced to spend quite some time there, the cobwebs were stubborn, sticking to every nook and cranny of their armors. Aeyrin would have had an easier time of it were it not for the underchain – every little metal circle was wrapped in the white stickiness.

"Fucking spiders! They can't be challenging so they decide to at least be annoying…" Bishop grumbled as he worked on getting the substance from under all the buckles on his leather.

A rumble from the mountain to the west interrupted them suddenly.

Their heads snapped towards the area in panic – their weapons were already fine but the armor still needed some work, not to mention the time it took to put it on. If the beast decided to make its appearance fast…

As if on cue, the wafting wind of flapping wings echoed through the canyon, as the beast appeared right above the river, spotting them immediately.

They dropped their armors by the stream with no other choice than to grab only their weapons.

Karnwyr barked and jumper around, likely deciding whether to help or to run. It wasn't as if he could have helped much – his teeth could hardly penetrate the thick scales and the dragon could squash him with one leg. Finally, Bishop yelled at him to run, realizing the situation quickly.

There were only the two of them this time – no guards, Companions nor even Delphine to help them.

The dragon plummeted towards them quickly, letting out a spray of fire as both of them jumped out of the way at the last second.

Without their armor, they were even more vulnerable to the beast, but there was nothing they could do about it now.

Bishop shot a stream of arrows at the dragon in flight while it circled above them menacingly. Two of them hit, eliciting roars from the beast as Aeyrin readied herself for its descent.

She still hasn't figured out what the last Shout she learned did. All she knew was that it made the strange draugr mage fall under her mace surprisingly quickly. It was possible that it was merely weakened from her previous attacks, but it must have done something to it.

She looked it up in her book on dragon language – it meant 'kill'.

Convenient, put it obviously didn't kill the mage outright.

It was worth a shot, however – there was hardly any Shout that would be better suited to use against a fire dragon.

The beast descended, snapping it's jaws at her in a huge heave, making her roll on the ground to avoid it.

"KRII!"

The red glow enveloped the dragon entirely, making it stagger for a bit until it turned back in her direction. An arrow shot through its eye, hitting the mark perfectly and it turned to Bishop briskly, roaring in pain again.

Aeyrin took the opportunity to smash her mace into the side of its head and it completely shattered several of its sturdy fangs. Her arm ached a bit from the hard impact – it was stranger to fight without her heavy armor, every muscle in her body moved so freely and the momentum was all the more intense.

Being able to use her agility could be considered an advantage if she wasn't so unused to it. It threw her off considerably.

She recoiled a bit, but managed to gather herself soon as another arrow shot inside of the dragon's maw, lodging itself in the roof of its mouth.

"FUS RO DAH!"

Aeyrin hit the beast with a full force of her Shout after making sure that Bishop was not in the affected area.

The dragon, weakened in its state, nearly toppled over, staggering on its limbs in confusion as Bishop let three more arrows fly right into its face, hitting it once again in the eye and twice more in its maw.

Its legs gave in and its head fell heavily on the ground as Aeyrin smashed her mace into its maw again, delivering the killing blow.

Seeing the beast slump one final time, Bishop dropped his bow and ran to her, breathing heavily from the rush of adrenaline.

She dropped her mace too and knelt down on the ground, letting him wrap his arms around her reassuringly as the dragon was set aflame.

She braced herself, closing her eyes firmly when she saw the familiar light appear.

The horrible heat coursed through her again, an image of her skin covered with boils and burns appeared in her thoughts. It felt like her whole body was covered in melted flesh, sticking to her clothing uncomfortably. It felt like small chunks of her flesh were falling out gradually, replaced by a crust of charred meat. There was an intense burn inside her ears, making them ring piercingly and loudly. It seemed to deafen her.

She breathed out heavily as the horrid experience slowly subsided.

She opened her eyes slowly, looking over the skeleton of the dragon right by her side, just in the middle of the road.

It was over.

They won.

Alone. Without any armor. Against a dragon.

The pain was gone, now only replaced by pride and exhilaration.

They weren't even wounded.

She always thought at the back of her mind that they would be lost without help.

They weren't.

And it was even easier than she thought.

Her body was still covered in sweat but the ordeal was a distant memory now. She turned her head up to Bishop, who was looking at her with intensity.

It was a strange thrill, the rush of the battle still coursing through them, the adrenaline humming through them.

She almost lunged at him, her hands grabbing at his hair and her mouth fastening on his, her tongue twining with his eagerly.

His hands started to roam her back frantically, crumpling her tunic, squeezing her backside and pressing her closer into his embrace, before he moved one hand to the front to knead her breast eagerly.

She felt the painful stinging heat of the dragon's soul be steadily replaced by the warm, pleasant one, spreading through her entire body, consuming her, as she moved down to kiss and nip at his neck.

It was like she was possessed, there was nothing quite like getting swept up in the feeling of their bodies close to each other, his touch exploring her hungrily.

He slid his hand inside her trousers after a moment of the frantic exchange, rubbing over her wet slit.

He broke his head away from her for a bit, looking into her eyes with a hungry state, an unspoken question in them.

Her thoughts swirled for a brief second with the facts of their current surroundings – they were in the middle of the road, a dead dragon right beside them, the mountains of the gorge probably creating quite an echo.

Somehow, however, she could not bring herself to care anymore as he slid his fingers inside her, eliciting a high-pitched gasp from her lips.

She nodded hurriedly, succumbing to the dizzying passion.

He removed his hand from within her, grabbed her by her hips instead and flipped her over immediately, setting her down on all fours before him.

She looked back over her shoulder in eager anticipation, watching him hook his fingers under her leather trousers and undergarments, pulling them down to her knees in one swift motion, baring her to him.

One of his hands returned to tease her as the other wrestled with the lacing of his own pants, freeing his hardness from their confines.

She braced herself, her fingers digging into the soil between the cobbles of the road, the tip of his hard cock pressing against her entrance.

He pushed deep inside in one swift, rough motion, making them both moan out loudly at the contact.

She bucked against him, clenching around him as he started to thrust into her hard and fast, the intensity of his movements betraying his need.

She cried out with every thrust that penetrated her deeply, her body heated and quivering under his treatment. It was so surprisingly freeing to have something that overwhelmed all her senses and absorbed all her other thoughts so completely.

She never thought she could get so thrilled by something that went against her need to avoid everything chaotic and frantic.

Perhaps this was the one instinct she could allow to spin out of control. To consume her.

Bishop eased the pressure of his fingers digging into her hips, pressing his torso down onto her back, wrapping one arm over her chest and entangling the other in the hair on the back of her head.

He pulled her up, her hands leaving the cobbled road, her back pressed tightly to his now straightened chest, his hand groping at her breasts through her clothes, the other one pulling her head down on his shoulder as his mouth descended to her neck, biting into it, his thrusts gained even more on intensity.

Her moans seemed to turn into a steady stream of unintelligible noise as she felt the buildup inside her explode, her pulsating walls clutching him inside her wet tunnel hungrily.

The feeling of her insides wrapping around him even tighter than before sent him over the edge alongside her and he let out a loud long groan when he let himself go.

They stayed in that position for quite a while, breathing heavily, their chests heaving in synchrony.

He kept kneading her breasts, his movements now calmer and slower, his member softening inside her, slipping out wetly after some time.

That certainly took the sting out of the whole ordeal of consuming the dragon's soul.

She gave him a bashful smile as she dislodged herself from him, pulling her clothes back in place. She decided that she won't be crawling back towards the river to wash up or get a rag from her pack with her trousers down to her knees, suddenly too aware of how exposed they were.

"Fuck, that was great, sweetness. We should do this after every battle," he smirked at her slapping her ass playfully as he readjusted his own clothes.

She chuckled, swatting his hand away, looking around the road in case there was anyone in the earshot.

They made their way towards the river, picking up their armor and packs, way too unconcerned with continuing the cleaning now.

They arrived at Dragon Bridge as the sun has almost set completely.

Aeyrin looked curiously over the large stone bridge with the dragon head chiseled on the grand arch in the middle.

It was an impressive sight, the fiery glow of the setting sun making it look kind of like a real dragon.

Her attention was diverted from the architecture in a minute when she noticed a group of Imperial soldiers gathering further in a village with several citizens running around them frantically.

She shared a curious look with Bishop and they continued on towards the commotion.

"You! Citizens, where did you come from?!" one of the soldiers barked as he spotted them, his eyes somewhat frantic and frightful.

Bishop clenched his fist with his thumb sticking out and pointed it over his shoulder without a word.

Both the soldiers and the villagers gasped almost in unison, gaping at them.

"W-we… saw a dragon fly in that direction," one of the villagers stuttered slightly, looking them over worriedly.

"Yeah. Don't worry, we killed it," Aeyrin beamed at them reassuringly.

None of them seemed to calm down however.

"That's commendable, ma'am, but the beast is not actually dead. They look dead, then rise again. We need to evacuate the village. At least you bought us some time," the soldier nodded at them gratefully, then started to gesture at the villagers to get moving.

Bishop and Aeyrin shared another look.

She really hoped to stay anonymous in the new places they visited. It seemed an unreachable goal now. "No… it's dead… really dead," she sighed, addressing the soldier.

"Ma'am, I get why you'd think that, but please believe me, we have been through this before. You need to continue on your way. The rest of you, gather only the bare necessities and…" he gave her a dismissive wave-off before she interrupted him.

"It's dead. I… consumed its soul…" she gave another deep sigh as the realization dawned on everyone in the crowd.

"You're the…" the soldier gasped, drowned out immediately by a myriad of loud cheers and laughs.

A sudden chaos ensued as everyone started to huddle around them, patting them on their backs, cheering, congratulating, pawing and asking questions.

They were ushered into the inn without even realizing what was going on, treated to drinks, food and everything they didn't even ask for as the villagers clamored around them for the rest of the night.