Author's Note:

Last chapter was really short, so I'm posting the next one sooner :)

Hope you enjoy! And thank you all for your support and your lovely comments :)


Chapter LXX – Infiltration

"Invitation."

The tall Altmer in a glistening golden ornate armor extended his hand to her expectantly.

She handed him the invitation a bit nervously. Was it legitimate? Or did Delphine get a forgery? She said that the ambassador wanted to meet her, so it was likely alright. Still, the stony expression on his face made her so nervous.

He looked up from the paper after a while, looking her up and down slowly, then giving her a mocking sneer.

"You can go inside, Dragonborn. You'll be searched for weapons before you enter."

She gave him a curt nod, heading up the stairs covered in light layer of snow. The open shoes made her toes freeze and she wrapped herself tightly into her white fur cloak.

There were two more guards at the top of the stairs, both clad in the same golden armor. One of them positioned himself in front of her, nodding at her to open her cloak. The search was rather longer and... more thorough that strictly necessary, but she was able to enter the embassy soon enough.

She entered the crowded room, leaving her cloak with a young woman in a black and yellow maid outfit.

It was a lot smaller than the Blue Palace ballroom and there were a lot less people inside. That was good. If the place was that large, she would hardly be able to guard the exit. She noted that there was only one door leading outside, but it was possible that someone would use the service entrances. She needed to watch out for them too.

She spotted Delphine's contact walking around with a tray of drinks. She got the urge to nod at him conspiratorially, but stopped herself. That would have hardly been subtle.

"Ah. The Dragonborn, I presume?" a tall Altmer woman stopped her in her careful scrutiny of the room. The woman had an extremely elaborate updo, her body decorated with golden jewelry beset with large diamonds and a lithe long dress, shimmering with gold and silver colors. She was almost blinding.

"Ambassador Elenwen, representative of the forces of the Dominion in Skyrim. A pleasure," she extended her hand to her in greeting, the tone of her voice cold, haughty and strangely charged with curiosity.

She felt so small next to her.

She shook her hand in greeting politely. "Pleasure to meet you. My name is Aeyrin," she gave her a small smile, hoping that the name would stick and everyone wouldn't just call her 'Dragonborn' again.

"Yes. I am curious, Dragonborn," dammit, "what made you seek out an invitation to my soiree? From the rumors alone… I didn't assume you had much interest in making contacts in Skyrim's higher social circles," she gave her a derogatory look, creasing her brows.

Good question… she needed to think of something.

"The truth is… the dragon situation… it seems to be getting worse. And… I… it feels like a lot of people depend on me to resolve it. I guess I was just hoping to gain some… support…" she shrugged nervously. Was that convincing? But when she thought about it, it wasn't exactly a bad idea. Although she couldn't really imagine scouring Skyrim with an army at her back, seeking out every single dragon they could find. And besides, the black dragon could just return and resurrect them all over, couldn't it? No army could help when she had this little information.

"Understandable. The dragons present a great threat to order, especially in the midst of the Nord's petty rebellion. You would do well to garner more allies to your cause. Perhaps… we could later discuss how you could assist the Dominion in our efforts in this backwater. The might of the Thalmor is hardly matched, as you surely know," the woman nodded approvingly, eyeing Aeyrin with peaked curiosity.

The might of the Thalmor was definitely hardly matched, but she was certain she wanted nothing to do with their religious persecution. She would just have to make some excuse later. There was no way she could tell the head of the Dominion that she disagreed with their reign.

Aeyrin nodded at her with a feigned smile as the woman moved on to mingle with other guests.

Good. She really wanted to talk to someone less intimidating.

She looked around the room with curiosity. Everyone seemed so… well off. They had the most expensive garments and jewelries donned, their postures regal and confident. There was no doubt that these were the most influential people in Skyrim.

"I did feel that there would be an old acquaintance surprising me at tonight's event," a voice interrupted her again.

"Jarl Idgrod," Aeyrin gave the woman a kind smile. Finally a friendly face.

"You look like you're up to something," the jarl whispered suddenly, a sly smile on her face.

What? Was she that obvious? Or did the jarl sense something in her visions? She still wasn't sure what her gift was capable of.

"W-what? 'Up to something'? Why would you think that?" she stammered a little, doing her best to keep her composure.

Idgrod gave her an amused smile: "Wishful thinking, perhaps. These events tend to bore me to tears. Any excitement is a welcome distraction. Besides, excitement does seem to follow you, dear."

"Heh… no excitement yet, my lady," Aeyrin chuckled with perhaps too palpable relief.

"Well… the night is young."

Bishop was crouching by the low wall, making sure that he could not be seen by the elves inside the complex.

It was taking too long. Where was that damned elf?!

Finally, the rustling of the shrubbery gave him the needed signal.

He flattened himself on the ground, crawling through the dug up hole.

After a brief glance around, he felt confident enough that no one was around to see him. He rushed through the shrubbery, making as little noise as possible, bolting towards the service entrance.

"There you are. All good? Nobody saw you?" the Bosmer greeted him the minute the door closed behind him.

"All good. What now?" Bishop nodded, the adrenaline already coursing through him. He always liked these heists for some reason. The thought of slipping through shadows right under everyone's noses was so exciting.

"Follow me, I'll hide you in a pantry closet. You need to stay there until the guards come to the party, some of them might use the service entrance, so don't move a muscle. I'll come for you when the coast is clear," the elf explained briefly as he dragged him through the kitchens into a small cluttered room.

He was locked inside, in a complete darkness, not a sound around.

He had to be careful not to move too much, he could bump into anything and make a lot of noise.

Aeyrin must have been just a short distance away from him at the party.

He wondered how she was doing.

Well, that seemed easy.

Nobody even tried to leave the party.

She tried to talk to some people to appear busy. She talked to someone in charge of some large export company, but the conversation threatened to put her to sleep – the woman couldn't stop talking about business. Aeyrin knew absolutely nothing about transporting merchandise and she was only reassured that she didn't want to learn any more about this particular subject.

She also talked to Idgrod again for a little while, discussing her vision of the clipped black wings a bit further. The jarl was very disappointed that Aeyrin had no better idea what it could mean.

She spent most of the time walking around the room idly, trying to think about who to talk to without seeming suspicious.

"Well, hello there," a tall blond Nord in a bright red overly decorated doublet approached her.

"Oh. Hello. My name is Aeyrin," she gave him a polite smile, extending her hand. She was a bit more comfortable here than at the ball. First of all, there were less people, and most of them were likely very important in Skyrim's high society, so she wasn't really the center of attention, luckily. And secondly, there was no one else with her whom she was embarrassing by her awkwardness. It was somewhat ironic, that she felt less awkward now.

"Charmed. I am Erikur, thane of Haafingar. I'm sure you've heard of me, dear," he turned her hand instead of shaking it, planting an overly wet kiss at the back of it.

She had no idea why she should have heard of him. Was being a thane really a big deal? Did people even know she was one? She doubted that… She decided to only give that man a polite nod, snatching her hand away. No need to cause trouble.

"I have heard much of you too, dear. To be honest, from the rumors alone, I assumed this party to be charged by a burly mountain of a woman," he laughed heartily, giving her a mischievous wink.

Aeyrin flushed in response. She knew everyone wanted a big Nord hero, but not many actually came out and said it so blatantly.

"I assure you, I can handle myself," she mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I don't doubt that! Look at you…" he chuckled, gesturing to her body from the neck down, making a swaying curve with his hands. "I bet I could handle you too, though," he added in a low voice, almost growling.

What? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? That would be strange on such an event… everyone else seemed overly polite and refined. He would probably not make such crass comments. Bishop's gutter mind must have been rubbing off on her.

Heh… rubbing off on her…

Stop it!

"Uhmm… I should…" she started to make excuses. There was someone lingering around the exit. Was he gonna leave? She needed to stop him. And she couldn't stare at him! It was too suspicious.

She set out towards the man by the door determinedly but was stopped. Erikur's arm was blocking her path, outstretched to lean on one of the pillars in the room.

"Not do fast, dear. I had a mutually beneficial proposition for you," he smiled at her strangely sleazily.

"What proposition?" she inquired quickly, wanting to get this over with. The man by the door still lingered there. Maybe he wasn't going to leave, but she couldn't take that risk. They needed to monitor everyone, make sure that no one would be outside to catch Bishop off guard.

"I admit, I've always been curious about the rumors of you tree-saps," he winked briefly before leaning his head closer to her, his voice lower, almost a whisper. "I hear you are insatiable between the sheets. Almost feral. Now what do you say, show me just how much of that is true?"

She looked at him with an incredulous stare. Was he serious? And what was it with Nords and calling every Bosmer feral or a cannibal? Just how ignorant were they?

"No," she proclaimed resolutely. Readying to bypass him through the other direction. That damned man was still by the door, looking around suspiciously. What was he doing?

"Now, now, hold on," Erikur didn't seem deterred, extending his arm in the other direction. She noticed that he attracted some attention from an onlooking guest. "I don't think you'd wanna miss this opportunity. Believe me you'll be grateful. I can really make you Shout…" he chuckled, making a disgusted shiver course through her spine.

"Still no!" she raised her voice a bit, subconsciously, but the man stepped in her way again. From the corner of her eye she noticed something – the contact, he was gesturing towards her, bobbing his hands subtly. Did he want her to make a scene? Maybe he needed a distraction. She noticed more of the people looking their way. This was no doubt what he wanted.

"Wait, dear. I don't think you know exactly what you would be missing… have you ever been with a Nord man? I guarantee you would find it a very good… fit," he gave her a disgustingly lascivious once-over. Then again… he wasn't wrong. But this Nord man was definitely not a 'good fit' for her, in any way. The man dared to reach with his hand, brushing it lightly against her bare shoulder.

Well… the contact wanted a scene…

A resounding slap landed on Erikur's face. She disliked resorting to violence, but it was important to make the distraction good. And it was kind of satisfying…

"Don't touch me!" she yelled out loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Erikur frowned, noticing the curious onlookers. "Dear, there's no need to make a scene… quiet down, and let's just discuss this…"

"There's nothing to discuss! What part of 'no' don't you understand?!" she retorted, getting surprisingly caught up in the scene. Well, she's always been much more determined and eloquent when the anger set in, and this man was trying her patience.

"Erikur, are you actually harassing the Dragonborn?!" a young woman approached them as the other guests watched things unfold.

"Harassing?! I was offering, and the tree-hugger's acting like she's better than anyone here!" Erikur was starting to get angry himself. Well… it didn't seem like Thalmor embassy was the best place to rely on racial slurs.

"It's not like you make it that challenging…" Aeyrin scoffed at him, surprisingly enough, eliciting an approving chuckle from Elenwen, who was until now observing with palpable disinterest.

"What did you say to me, whore?!" the man fumed. Wow, it was really easy to rile him up. She doubted the contact could have hoped for a better distraction.

"Erikur! This is completely impudent! This is how you intend to represent my court?" the young woman piped up again, folding her arms across her chest.

'Her court'? Aeyrin finally focused her attention on the woman. She was… strikingly beautiful, like the perfect picture of a Nordic beauty. She had long platinum blond hair tied into an elaborate braided bun, decorated with a lavish golden circlet beset by rubies. Her eyes were a light shade of blue and she had freckles on the pale skin around her nose. Her gown had an odd straight cut, protruding away from her body at the cleavage and accentuating her slender waist. It was bright red with glittering gold embroidery all over it and all her expensive jewelry complemented the colors perfectly.

"My queen… I was just…" Erikur paled suddenly, recoiling from Aeyrin. Did he just say 'queen'?

"It's unacceptable! We will need to reevaluate your position once we return to the city," the woman continued to chastise him, but he no longer got the chance to get defensive.

A loud crash sounded from behind one of the service doors, making everyone jump with a start.

A quiet spread through the room. Aeyrin tried to locate the contact, but he was right there in the room. Was it something else? Or was this going according to plan?

A minute later a group of guards ran into the room – two from the service entrance and two from the front door.

"Ambassador, we had an incident. We will need to…" the guard lowered his voice before he spoke the last part, "investigate all the guests."

She looked at the Bosmer out of the corner of her eye again. He gave a brief nod. Good. It was part of the plan.

"I am so sorry, my dear guests, but my guards need to make some inquiries of you. I hope you understand, it's your safety that we are most concerned about," Elenwen addressed the room with a regretful look. She didn't seem at all surprised at the commotion.

Three guards positioned themselves by the doors – one in front of each exit, while the last one started to talk to the guests.

Well, now just to make sure she wasn't looking suspicious.

Bishop downed one of the invisibility potions once the sounds of armored boots on the stone floor were far enough.

The Bosmer came for him earlier, unlocking the door and telling him to wait for the guards to pass, then he apparently set up some sort of trap to make a distraction.

The coast should have been more or less clear in the service entrance and the elf was sure that the majority of the guards would be searching the building where the party was. All he needed to do was get through the kitchens and then the courtyard.

He snuck away from the closet – no one around, good.

There were some hushed voices coming from the kitchens. He crept in closer, peeking from around the corner carefully. He saw two guards gathered around a Khajiit woman, forcing her into the corner of the room and asking her various questions.

They wouldn't see him with the potion still being in effect. He just needed to be quiet. He slipped by them, making his way to the exit.

Everything went surprisingly smoothly.

The courtyard had only two guards in it and they were all too easy to avoid.

When he made his way towards the second building, hugging the wall and staying low, he noticed another Altmer, leaning against the entrance. He looked like one of those justiciars.

Well, using the front entrance was a daft idea anyways…

He circled towards another side of the building.

An open window, second floor.

This was almost getting boringly easy.

He waited until the Thalmor making their rounds around the courtyard were reliably out of line of sight and started to climb up on the fence near the building, using it to hoist himself up into the open window.

Well… it looked a bit easier in his head.

The fence was not hard to get a grip on in the leather gloves, but it was a bit further from the window than he originally thought.

He ended up dangling from the window sill, all too visibly for his liking.

In the end he managed to hoist himself up with some strain, but he tumbled a bit loudly on the floor inside.

He ran immediately to hide in a nearby closet, but minutes passed and nobody came to check on the noise.

Not bad – he was inside and he did have a good positon now.

He took another one of the potions and set out to explore.

The place was somewhat emptier than he expected, but there were still some Thalmor around.

He eavesdropped on a conversation between a Thalmor and one of his informants, but there was nothing really useful that he managed to overhear.

With little patience and meticulous checking of the rest of the building, the main office was finally empty, just as his last potion was starting to lose its effect.

He picked the locks on the desk and the chest behind it hastily.

There were some important looking papers there, but he certainly wasn't about to read through them.

Best to just get everything.

He loosened his chest armor and started to stash anything he found inside into the flat pockets. He fitted his armor with them years ago when he noticed the Guild members using a similar system. He bolted under the desk whenever he heard footsteps approach, but nobody came into the office again.

Everything was going so smoothly, it was almost laughable.

Well, it wasn't as if he was complaining.

There was only one last stop to make – the torture room.

He continued through the door in the office, descending the old moldered steps to the basement.

He entered the chamber carefully. Without his potions, he would be really fucked if he was seen.

But the reality was almost too good to be true.

There was no one.

Well, there was a person chained in one of the alcoves, but he was likely delirious, his groans of agony spread through the room continuously.

He made his way to the lowest floor, not even bothering with walking across the beams.

There was another chest by the desk with some more important looking papers and small books. He stashed them in his armor again, arranging all the little books and parchments towards his back, where they created the least discomfort while moving.

Time to see who was unfortunate enough to piss off the Thalmor.

He walked towards the alcove, watching the chained up man for a while. He was slumped down, his body full of magical burns and knife scars. His face was hidden by his sweaty hair, falling over it as his head hung down in weariness.

Bishop approached tentatively and the man at last noticed that he was no longer alone.

"I told… told you… I don't know…" he cried out, then he raised his head weakly, attempting to give Bishop a defiant look.

"Etienne?!" Bishop's eyes went wide at the sight of him. What the fuck would he be doing there?

"W-wha…. Bi-shop?" the man gasped out, but he seemed too weary to be shocked.

Bishop unclasped the emergency health potion from his belt, forcing the liquid down Etienne's throat before he started to work on undoing his chains.

"Fuck… I can't believe… fuck… what are you doing here?" Etienne took several deep breaths, some color returning to his face.

"Long story. Now we need to get the fuck out of-"

"BEHIND YOU!"

Etienne shouted with all the strength he could muster to his voice.

Bishop drew his knife immediately, turning around sharply.

There was a justiciar at the back of the room by the stairs, his hands lighting up malevolently with purple crackling lightning.

Bishop didn't hesitate – the Altmer was out of reach, but he was good at range. His dagger flew from his hand instinctively with great speed. He was sure it would hit.

The mage didn't even manage to change the sneering expression to one of shock, before the knife hit its target, right between his eyes.

But it was too late.

The intense lightning shot out from the dying man's hands, hitting Bishop hard in the chest, sending him crashing back into Etienne's weakened body.

A searing pain coursed through his entire body. He was sure he was badly burned, as the cloth of his tunic stuck wetly to his chest. His body spasmed uncontrollably as Etienne supported him with the last vestiges of his strength.

"Fuck! Shit! Bishop?!" Etienne cried out as Bishop tried to steady himself on his feet, his body thrashing against his will, making its control way too difficult.

Etienne draped Bishop's arm over his own shoulder, supporting his weight as Bishop stumbled. He tried to walk, but Etienne had to half-drag him away from the alcove, looking around in panic.

"K-knife," Bishop growled at Etienne weakly.

"It's a fucking chunk of metal, dick!" Etienne yelled out at him angrily, but much to Bishop's surprise, he propped him up against the wall and made the few steps towards the Altmer's corpse, yanking the knife from his head with a loud grunt. Etienne almost stumbled on his way back to Bishop, grabbing his arm again to drape it over his shoulder. He looked for a while as if he would shove the knife into Bishop's gut just for the fact that he was asked to do this, but instead he sheathed it into his belt.

"C-corpse… shoot…" Bishop grunted loudly in pain, the searing heat in his chest making him feel like he would go up in flames any second.

He gave his only potion to Etienne. He wasn't sure if he regretted it now, or if he was grateful that it gave the rogue the strength to help him.

Etienne luckily knew exactly what he was talking about.

They made their way to the corpse shoot agonizingly slowly, lingering above it.

"Fuck…ing… go…" Bishop growled impatiently, letting the rogue drop him to his knees as he jumped down, a loud grunt hinting at the height of the shoot a second later.

Well, what else was he gonna do? Rot in Thalmor torture room?

He slumped down, falling over into the shoot.

His body collided heavily with the rogue, who mercifully decided to break his fall, but they both groaned in pain at the impact.

"Couldn't you fucking come around tomorrow? It's healing day tomorrow…" Etienne growled as he collected Bishop's still spasming body around him again.

"Sorry… to… f'ing… inco-inconvienien… you…" Bishop hissed through gritted teeth weakly. Everything burned so much. And his legs still refused to listen to his commands.

They made their way out of the small cavern slowly and arduously, finally ending up below a cliffside by the Sea of Ghosts.

"Right… fuck… you're heavy… what the fuck… we do now?" Etienne huffed in palpable exhaustion, still supporting Bishop's body weakly.

"Mill…" Bishop grunted in effort, trying his best to force his own remaining strength to hold him up at least partially.

"W-what? Mill? The… fuck? That's… fucking… across… the mountain…" Etienne breathed heavily, his body starting to shake.

"Shore… go… by shore…" Bishop answered weakly. The journey would be so much longer, but what choice was there? They would never get across the mountain in that state.

"No… better…" Etienne's eyes lit up slightly as he stared at the small peninsula they were near to – there in the distance was a small dock. They both knew it – some of the less… legal goods made their way from there to Solitude. There was bound to be something they could use there – a small boat, or a cart.

It was only a matter of getting there.

"Once more."

The Thalmor guard's cold stare pierced her uncomfortably. He was definitely suspicious of her.

"A-alright… first I gave the coat to the maid, then I talked to ambassador Elenwen briefly, then to Jarl Idgrod. After that, I talked to… her," she pointed to the woman from the merchant company, thinking over the events of the evening. There was really no reason for her to lie, she technically did nothing wrong.

"After that I talked to Jarl Idgrod again, and then… to that… man," she creased her brows in disgust.

"Yes. Thane Erikur. So you're saying that all these people can verify your constant presence in this room? You never left? Not for some fresh air?" he eyed her with a stony expression. He was clearly not allowed to press the guests too much. That would likely not be received well.

"No, not for a second. You can ask anyone," she gave him a small smile. She was a little worried that Erikur might try to pull something as a revenge, but there were way too many witnesses to their conversation.

The man didn't speak further, only turning on his heel and heading towards another guest.

It was taking so long.

What if they found out that someone stole from them? Then they would surely take to more drastic measures.

She hoped that Bishop was alright. He had the more difficult part of the mission after all.

But the contact seemed so calm. Either he was really good at pretending, or everything was going smoothly so far.

"Lady Dragonborn?"

A soft voice disturbed her from her pondering.

She turned to see the young Nord woman – the 'queen' – giving her a kind smile.

"High Queen Elisif, we didn't get a chance to make a proper acquaintance."

"Aeyrin. It's a pleasure to meet you," she smiled back at her, shaking her hand.

"You too, lady Aeyrin. I would like to apologize again for Erikur… he has been troublesome a few times before. I fear even my late husband's favor won't spare him this time. I hardly have need of this sort of representation," she sighed, shaking her head demurely. She actually used her name… Wait, what did she mean 'spare him'?

"I… uhh… it's alright… I really don't think anyone needs to get hurt over…" Aeyrin stammered nervously. Were all Skyrim leaders psychopaths?

"Oh Divines! No… nothing like that! I'm sorry," Elisif chuckled in amusement. "He misuses his title and makes a mockery of it. All I'll do is take it away," she raised her hands in mock appeasement.

"Ah… right. Sorry," Aeyrin flushed. Well, she did say it rather ominously before, she could hardly blame her for making assumptions.

"I was curious to know how long you were staying in Solitude. I heard from General Tullius that you declined his invitation into the ranks of the Legion and… don't get me wrong, I do not disapprove, it is your choice after all. I was merely curious whether you were as… opposed to… dealing with… well… me. I would certainly like to keep relations amicable," she smiled again. It was such a genuine smile, it could light up a room. Or perhaps she was just good at faking it.

"Oh… no… I just… the dragons are really my main concern. I simply…" she sighed, racking her brain on how to explain.

"You simply didn't want to be used as a weapon in the civil war," Elisif nodded sympathetically.

Aeyrin's eyes went wide at her insight. She really did seem sincere.

"So… are you staying in Solitude for much longer?" Elisif smiled at her again.

"I… I don't think so. We were actually planning to leave soon after this event, but I suspect we'll be returning to the city at some point," Aeyrin shrugged noncommittally.

"'We'?" Elisif gave her a curious look.

"Ah…" Aeyrin stopped herself. Was it alright to be associated with Bishop? Well… supposedly he wouldn't be seen stealing the secrets. And so many people already knew they were here together. She was starting to get overly paranoid about every little thing she said. It was grating.

"Yes… me and my companion," she nodded after a while.

"Ah, yes. I heard you didn't come to the city alone. Why is he not here with you?"

"I only got the one invitation. And… he really doesn't like this sort of… thing," she shrugged bashfully. It was a reasonable enough excuse.

"And you do?" Elisif gave her a conspiratorial smile, raising her brows a bit.

"Well… not… exactly…" she flushed, hoping she would not have to elaborate on the reason for her presence here again. It would be really strange to claim to be there to gain some allies against the dragon and not mention that to the High Queen.

Elisif only chuckled kindly in response, leaning a bit closer to her, whispering: "Truth be told, neither do I… but… we do what we can for the good of the people, right?"

Aeyrin nodded sympathetically. At least she didn't have to do this all the time. The queen must have had to suffer through these events much more often.

"Whenever you come back to the city, lady Aeyrin, I'd be happy if we talked more. I understand that the war preoccupies many of my peoples' minds, but there are still other dangers, other troubles. It pains me that they are overlooked for the ambition of power-hungry men. And it warms my heart to hear rumors of those that strive to help in these difficult times," she gave her an elegant curtsy, her kind smile forcing Aeyrin to reciprocate the expression.

"My dearest guests, I apologize for the unpleasant disruption to the festivities," Elenwen suddenly interrupted all the conversation in the room. "Please, if you would excuse the abrupt ending, there are important matters I need to attend to. My guards will escort you to the carriages."

"How… fucking… farther…"

Etienne huffed in effort. The numbing effects of the potion were subsiding and sharp pain was coursing through his entire body.

"…donno…" Bishop's eyes were closed already, the burning seemed to seep all the energy from him. He was splayed on a wooden wheelbarrow unceremoniously with Etienne's strained breaths echoing from behind him.

"…sle…" Bishop tried to speak. He was so tired, his muscles were still spasming now and then and it made him all the more exhausted.

"What?"

"Whistle…" he managed to get the word out finally. Karnwyr would come to investigate, Bishop knew he would. He just hoped he wasn't too far away.

Etienne was silent for a while, likely thinking over Bishop's lucidity. He let out a deep breath and straightened his back, letting the wheelbarrow thud on the ground. He sorely needed a break.

A loud whistle sounded from him in a few seconds, echoing across the sea and towards the Solitude docks.

There was no more energy left in him. He slumped to the ground, his chest heaving as he positioned himself next to the wheelbarrow, looking up at the barely conscious man in it.

"End… of the… road… mate…"

Etienne closed his eyes… only for a minute.

He just needed some rest.

They'd continue on right after.

Only a minute.