"Where'd you get these?"
Bishop slowly traced his finger across one of the old scars on her left thigh, his head resting on her other leg, his body nestled in between them as she breathed out heavily, still flushed and winded from the unusual awakening.
"I would have figured they'd patch you up at the temple every time," he pondered, running his fingers over another one of the scars, continuing even higher beyond the it teasingly.
"They're from before…" she sighed, closing her eyes, concentrating on his touch rather than her memories.
They looked like claw marks, but they were clearly stretched on her skin, distorting their original appearance. He remembered her mentioning a Khajiit who was coaxing her father to use her to get money. He wondered if they were from him.
He waited if she would elaborate but she didn't, her frown disappearing slowly and her face contorting in excited anticipation instead as he still travelled with his fingers above her scars.
It looked like she would rather not relive whatever it was.
Well, it wasn't as if he wasn't eager to oblige.
He brushed with his fingers gently against her wet lower lips, moving his head back towards her.
He listened to the low moan deep from within her throat as he spread her slightly, letting his warm breath tickle her, making her squirm under him.
He continued the ministrations for some time, alternating between stroking her lightly and running his tongue over her, always purposefully avoiding the places she ached to be touched the most.
"B-Bishop…" she stammered in frustration, quivering under him.
"Mmm… What is it, sweetness?" he chuckled lightly, making her squirm again as the heavy breaths tickled her mercilessly.
"Bishop… please…" she gasped, trying to rub herself against his hand, making him chuckle again, purposefully keeping his touch too light for her to find release.
"Mmhmm, I like the sound of that, princess," his voice rumbled deeply as he nipped at her inner thigh gently.
"P-please…" she gritted her teeth, too frustrated to resist his games.
"Please what?" he smirked, eliciting a groan from her as his tongue flicked over the top of her slit, his finger circling her entrance teasingly.
She flushed, raking her fingers into the mattress, biting into her lower lip somewhat forcefully.
"Do you want me to fuck you, princess?" he chuckled again, sliding his finger only barely inside her before moving up along her body, his face to hers as she nodded desperately.
"Say it," he whispered in her ear, flicking his tongue over it as his finger still teased her relentlessly.
She let out a strained groan again, trying to withstand his torture a little longer.
It was impossible.
She flushed deeply, not sure anymore whether her body was heated from arousal or embarrassment.
"P-please fuck me!" it surprised even her how loudly she yelped that out.
Bishop laughed smugly, planting his mouth on hers and entwining his tongue inside, positioning himself between her legs and thrusting into her deeply in one swift motion.
She cried out, against his lips, raking her nails into his back and wrapping her legs across his hips.
Their moans and grunts echoed between the walls of the room for quite some time then, late into the morning.
They were only forced to disentangle themselves from each other shortly before midday, the hunger making them abandon their room at last.
…
Bishop watched the light play at the jewelry on the stall.
Aeyrin was talking to Evette San in the meanwhile, discussing some problem with her spice shipments. Maybe she was worried that she'd run out of wine during their stay in Solitude.
He smirked to himself and looked back at the overpriced trinkets in front of him.
He wondered for a while if Aeyrin would like any of that stuff. It all seemed too impractical for their lifestyle, but she never really took off the amulet of Stendarr. Was it because of her faith or because it was from him?
He didn't really see the point in giving her a random bauble.
That wouldn't mean anything.
Wait, why would he need to give her anything anyways?
He was in a strange mood since the previous night. He kept thinking about the fact that she actually refused to listen to anything Casavir had to say about him. He never even considered that outcome. Wasn't she curious? Wasn't she worried after the paladin's outbursts?
Talking about Jules with her was easier than he thought. Maybe because she didn't push him to tell her everything right away. She knew him so well after such a short time and yet she barely knew anything about his past.
He, on the other hand, seemed to be unable to anticipate her reactions.
If he were in her place, he would have let that damned paladin tell him everything.
Why couldn't he bring himself to trust her as much as she trusted him?
Why couldn't he have trusted Jules just the same?
It was all his fault.
He looked down at his hand, the silver ring paling in front of the myriad of colorful gems in front of him, but it still meant so much more than any of them.
But he didn't deserve it.
…
Aeyrin noticed him paying for something at the jewelry stall.
He stashed his coin purse back inconspicuously, his eyes darting to her briefly before he headed back towards her.
What was he doing? She couldn't help but get a little excited that he might have been buying a present for her. He would hardly buy anything for himself at a jewelry stall, but then again, it wasn't like him to spend money on impractical trinkets. The amulets he gave her before were enchanted and meaningful for her, it was likely that he wouldn't just buy some pretty bauble for no reason.
"Hey…" he approached her uncharacteristically nervously, rubbing the back of his head.
She watched him expectantly, noticing him palming something in his hand.
"I… uh… here. I wanted to give this to you."
He handed her a delicate silver chain, but instead of an amulet a ring was hanging from it.
She recognized it right away – she never saw him take it off. It was a worn silver ring with a wolf head carving on it, myriad of scratches were plastered on it and the metal was already dulled with wear and tear, but it was still beautiful.
She gave him a questioning look, baffled that he would part with it.
"Jules gave it to me… a long time ago. But I think it'd suit you better," his smile was a little sad as he said that, his eyes fastened on the ring in her hand.
It must have been so important to him. Why would he give it to her instead?
"Are you sure? I mean… it's beautiful… but, wouldn't you rather keep it?" she looked up at him with uncertainty, the atmosphere strangely somber.
"I'm sure… like I said… it'd suit you better," he gave her another sad smile, now finally looking into her eyes rather than on the ring.
She fastened it around her neck securely, tugging on the chain lightly to make sure it wouldn't fall off.
"I wish I could have met him…" she said quietly after a while as he watched the ring nestled below her collarbone.
His smile turned less somber at last and he chuckled lightly.
"Yeah, he would have liked you. And I'd probably go grey with the two of you around in a ten-day," there was so much affection in his voice. He picked up the ring in his hand briefly, playing with it for a while below her neck.
"I'd like to hear more about him, when you're ready," she smiled back at him, placing her hand on his and running her thumb over it gently.
Bishop didn't answer, but nodded slowly, still toying with the ring.
"I'll keep it safe," she leaned in on her tiptoes to kiss him, running her hand in his hair as he responded eagerly, almost desperately.
"Ehm, ehm…"
A deep voice interrupted them suddenly with a pretend cough.
They turned to look at the man standing beside them – a soldier, clad in the leather armor of the Imperial Legion, looking at them rather sternly.
"Excuse me, Dragonborn, General Tullius is expecting you," the man proclaimed resolutely, folding his arms across his chest.
"Now?" she raised her eyebrows at the rude interruption. The letter did say at her earliest convenience. She really didn't think it urgent. And she somewhat hoped she could slip through the city for some time before the Legion pounced on her.
"He's been expecting you ever since you entered the city," his tone was rather threatening, his expression still stern.
Aeyrin and Bishop shared a disgruntled look, but there was really no point in postponing this. She would have to deal with the Legion sooner or later.
She did get suddenly more nervous than before meeting Ulfric.
The truth was, she knew nothing about the General. She had some brief experience with Ulfric before and she knew enough rumors and how his followers behaved, but the same couldn't be said for the Legion. She has, after all, been living under Imperial rule all her life and never really had an issue with it, aside from the restrictions of Talos worship – and she only concerned herself with that recently. That didn't mean, however, that she wanted to join their slaughter of the Stormcloaks.
"Fine…" she sighed in defeat following the soldier towards Castle Dour with Bishop on her heel.
…
They were led through several small chambers of the building, constantly surrounded by grey stone and red banners with the symbol of the Imperial Dragon.
They finally stopped in a small room, looking more like an office – there was a large desk with a high-back chair behind it and two smaller, significantly cheaper-looking, chairs in front of it. There was a map of Skyrim splayed on the desk with little blue and red flags pinned in it at various locations. A large red banner covered the entire wall behind the desk and the rest of the room was decorated with various armor and weapon stands.
They sat at the two chairs, waiting for some time before an Imperial man entered.
He was surprisingly old, older than Ulfric for certain, with kempt grey hair and rather pronounced wrinkles on his face. He still looked in peak form, although that might have been the ceremonial cuirass he was wearing playing tricks on them.
"Welcome, Dragonborn... and someone…" he frowned at Bishop's presence, who only gave him a dismissive smirk in response.
"Aeyrin. And this is my companion Bishop," she scowled at Tullius.
She was getting a bit tired of being only ever called 'Dragonborn'. She would have almost forgotten her name since she came to Skyrim, were it not for a select few individuals. First month or so of their travels, she even wondered if Bishop remembered her name, with all the nicknames he used instead.
"Pleasure," he seemed either completely disinterested or actually upset for some reason. He kept frowning as he sat himself in his chair, scanning the both of them for a rather long moment.
"You wanted to talk to me?" she gave him and expectant nod, eager to end the uncomfortable scrutiny.
"Yes, of course. Me and everyone else it seems," he still looked her over with narrowed eyes, as if trying to discern something.
What did that mean? He really did seem angry for some reason.
"I hear you've been travelling all over Skyrim before reaching the capitol," he continued, looking down on the map for a while, scanning some of the flags with his eyes.
Was he angry that she took long to get to Solitude? She didn't even know when the Legion sent the message. And it wasn't as if she didn't have more urgent matters to attend… most of the times anyways.
"My men have heard reports of your activities in Whiterun, Riften, Morthal…" he paused, strangely dramatically for a military man, before furrowing his brows even further. "Windhelm…"
Aeyrin gave him an uncertain look. His face was stern and somewhat frightening, but she couldn't help but imagine him as a little boy, pouting that she talked to Ulfric before him.
"Yes…" she shrugged. Maybe he actually wanted to make her into a spy… As if any Stormcloak would trust her. Besides, she didn't want to get involved with either side.
"Let me make one thing clear then," he gave a deep exasperated sigh, obviously hoping she would elaborate more, "anyone who helps that madman in any way is the enemy of the Legion, no matter who they are."
His face was challenging, scowl still permanent on it as he waited for her reaction.
"I… am not helping Ulfric with anything…" she squirmed a bit under his gaze.
It was strange, the man seemed definitely less unstable and dangerous than Ulfric, but she found herself even more nervous before him. Maybe because this time, she had no idea what to expect nor any time to prepare for the meeting. And she still didn't know where she stood with the Legion. She never considered herself rebellious towards the Empire since no one really seemed to care much for Talos worship in Cyrodiil by the time she was older. From what she always gathered, the issues she minded later had more to do with the Thalmor than the Empire. She understood the reasons for signing the Concordat and always agreed that preventing more war and bloodshed was the best option.
"But you spoke to him," he still scowled. She felt like a child being chastised for disobedience.
"Y-yes. He asked me to join his cause. I didn't. That was it, really," she said after a while of pondering. She felt strange telling him that but she couldn't really think of a reason not to. Maybe it was because it felt like he was intimidating her to talk.
"I see. I suppose even Ulfric is not reckless enough to kill the Dragonborn," his expression softened a little bit, but his next words hardly eased the atmosphere: "I am glad to hear you remain loyal to the Empire in this matter."
She didn't answer, shifting nervously in her chair. He wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right either.
"Tell me, did you by chance find out what he knew of the return of the dragons?" Tullius laced his fingers together and put his elbows on the table with an interested expression, a large signet ring with the symbol of the Imperial Dragon now prominently displayed on his right hand.
"He doesn't know anything… and before you ask, neither do I," she shook her head wryly. She didn't really believe Delphine's theories about the Thalmor but it was better to be safe than sorry. Keeping the little information they had from any potential culprits and their allies was the least she could do.
"Disappointing. But I am still pleased to hear you have not joined the traitors to the Empire," he gave a brief smile before his face turned stern again.
"Now to other matters. I would like you to report to one of my Legates to discuss further war plans and how to utilize your special abilities…"
"Excuse me?!" she gaped at him, the forwardness staggering her.
"What is it? You are loyal to the Empire, are you not?"
"I am not a member of your Legion! Or are you telling me you're drafting civilians now?" she yelled out incredulously, making him pause for a while and study her with a measured eye.
"If you insist on procedure, then I invite you to join the Imperial Legion, but I believe there are more pressing matters to take care of…" he started to ramble matter-of-factly, making her even angrier at his confidence.
"Thank you, but I refuse," she folded her arms across her chest determinedly. "I will not be taking part in your war and I will not be using my 'special abilities' against soldiers… on either side."
He scowled deeply, searching her gaze again for a while, before speaking: "You have undoubtedly made an enemy out of Ulfric. The Legion can protect you from him. And you know that his men need to be stopped."
"Frankly, General, all of you need to be stopped. And I can protect myself," she scoffed at him derisively, the nervousness replaced by anger.
"Was that a threat?!" he rose from his desk abruptly, but she followed suit quickly, standing up calmly, doing her best to remain level-headed.
"Of course not. I am not getting involved in any way. If that was all, General, we will leave you to your planning."
Tullius didn't answer, staring her down sternly but not stopping her from leaving either.
She walked out of the room determinedly, followed closely by Bishop.
…
"You know, watching you put these assholes in their place is really doing it for me," Bishop snickered quietly into her ear as they were making their way through Castle Dour, looking for exit in those small rooms that all looked the same.
"Well, at least one of us enjoyed that… it was mortifying," she cringed. She was never sure whether to be grateful when her anger took over, she always found herself wondering after if she was too reckless, or if she made a dangerous enemy.
"Aeyrin!"
A familiar voice interrupted them as a soldier approached them excitedly.
"Hadvar?" she looked at the tall Nord making their way towards them with surprise. Maybe she was more surprised that somebody actually didn't address her as the 'Dragonborn'.
"I heard you were in Solitude. And other things about you… you've been busy," he chuckled lightly, giving her a conspicuous wink.
She scoffed a bit, flushing, hoping the conversation would take a different turn.
"Were you here to talk to the General? I heard he sent for you," his eyes lit up slightly for some reason.
"Yes… he… wanted to talk… So what have you been up to?" she asked in hopes of evading this topic too, only to realize a second later that this question would likely not achieve that.
"Heh… you'll find out soon enough, I'm sure. Where have you been stationed?" he chuckled amicably.
Why did everyone assume she would just do whatever Tullius said? Why was she automatically considered the Legion's tool?
"I didn't join the Legion, I was just here to talk," she frowned at him, annoyed with their assumptions.
Hadvar stared at her for a while, as if trying to discern her intent, his brows furrowing deeply.
"I thought you were called here to join our cause. Don't you want Ulfric to be brought to justice for his crimes?"
"Sure… I just don't want to help slaughter half the province to do so," she scowled at him, tired of justifying herself. She sorely hoped that once she left Castle Dour, she wouldn't be bothered again by neither Tullius nor Ulfric, but that was likely too much to hope for.
"We have to stop him no matter the cost. Have you already forgotten how we helped you? If it weren't for the Legion, you would have died in Helgen," he was still scowling at her, his friendly expression long gone.
"I also remember the Legion trying to execute me, just like Ulfric did. I'm not getting involved, Hadvar," she shook her head at him determinedly and turned on her heel, leaving the soldier staring after her without getting another chance to speak.
When they finally reached the exit, she swore to herself never to return to Castle Dour again.
