Chapter LXXI – Help

"He should really be here by now…"

Aeyrin paced around the mill, her feet tired from the shoes and her whole body freezing in the dress, even with the cloak on.

Bishop still wasn't there, they've been waiting for over an hour.

"I swear if he talks…" Delphine grumbled, her arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the runner.

"You're just full of compassion and sympathy, aren't you?" Aeyrin sneered at her. Her only comments regarded the regret over the loss of the potential information and how much danger she was in. It was grating on her nerves.

"I'm being practical. The dragons are the bigger issue. We need the information and we cannot have the Thalmor at our back," Delphine huffed defensively, shaking her head at her.

Yeah right… she was just afraid for her own skin.

Finally, Aeyrin heard the fast patter of paws and the familiar pants. Karnwyr – he must have joined Bishop on the way back.

She left the shadows of the mill, eager to see them both again.

As she stepped out into the empty moonlit yard, she was greeted by the wolf instantly. But the ranger was nowhere in sight.

Karnwyr let out a loud bark, his face full of panic as he jumped around her frantically.

"What happened? Where's Bishop?" her heart started pounding. Something was definitely wrong.

The wolf barked, running off in the direction of the docks.

She needed to go after him.

"Bishop!"

She broke into a fierce run the second she saw him, the pain in her feet forgotten entirely.

He was set inside a wheelbarrow, unmoving, and there was a strange Breton man sitting by him, looking rather shocked.

She knelt by Bishop the second she reached him, looking him over frantically, in panic. There was no visible blood… what happened?

"Who are you?! Are you with them?!" Delphine's voice echoed from behind Aeyrin and she noticed her draw her dagger at the Breton on the ground.

"Delphine, for Gods' sake!" Aeyrin yelled, turning to the man in a second with a desperate look in her eyes. "What happened? What's wrong with him?"

"Shock… spell… nasty one… think… he's burned bad…" the man looked exhausted and every breath he took was labored. He was only wearing some old rags and all the bared parts of his skin were covered in cuts and burns.

Aeyrin didn't pay much attention to him, though, quickly undoing the clasps of Bishop's armor, while the wolf watched her with a perpetual low whine.

"Shock spell? The Thalmor saw him?!" Delphine yelled out in anger, still clutching her dagger, but luckily not menacing the Breton with it anymore. That poor man could barely speak, even if he was an enemy, she hardly needed to go to such measures.

"Don't… think so… He came… alone… then the justiciar… he's dead… but the spell… hit…" his voice was sounding more and more strained.

"Delphine, potions!" Aeyrin commanded as she finally managed to open Bishop's armor, finding his tunic sticking to his skin, hints of singed flesh visible under the damp white fabric.

"Stop saying my name!" Delphine cried out angrily again, earning a furious look from Aeyrin. She was driving her insane with the paranoia!

At last Delphine handed her a few healing potions from her pack. Aeyrin passed one to the man beside her hastily, then slapped Bishop's face around lightly, trying to get him to react. When he didn't, she uncovered his tunic slowly and very carefully. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the nasty burns all over his chest in an instant. It looked much worse than she feared.

Mustering her strength, she laid her hands just above his skin to heal his burns the best she could.

It wouldn't be enough, her restoration skills were never enough against magical wounds. She needed to get him into a temple, but first, she needed to do the best she could so that he wouldn't die on the way.

"Thank you…" the man beside her sighed out in relief, moving closer to the wheelbarrow. He took one of the potions and tilted Bishop's head while she tried to heal the worst of his wounds.

"I'm Etienne. I was being… held by the Thalmor. Bishop released me, from their… torture rooms, but then… the justiciar. We made it this far… then he passed out. But before, he told me to whistle. I thought he was fucking delirious," he chuckled a bit incredulously, slowly pouring some of the liquid into Bishop's mouth, careful to test his reflexes without drowning him. "I tried… then the wolf shows up, tries to wake him and runs off again. And now you're here… you can't make this shit up…" his laugh got a bit desperate, the man was obviously strained by the ordeal.

"Why would you drag a stranger this far? What's in it for you? If you think this garners any trust…" Delphine piped up again, making Aeyrin's blood boil. Couldn't she just communicate without angry barks and threats? Was that so hard?

"He's not a stranger," Etienne shrugged, not elaborating any further. He knew him? What would Bishop have in common with a Thalmor prisoner? And why was the man held by them? Not like it mattered much, she needed to help Bishop right now. Everything else could wait.

As her hands fell away, the magic dissipating, Bishop finally responded to Etienne's slow attempts to make him drink. He coughed violently, spitting out the potion, but when Etienne pressed the bottle against his mouth again, he was lucid enough to swallow.

"Bishop?" she placed her hand on his cheek with a worried expression, trying to see if he was conscious.

His eyes slid slightly open – he could hardly see anything like that, but she could have sworn that a small smile tugged his lips.

"Here, one more," Etienne handed her another potion and she leaned it towards him gently. This time Bishop managed to drink up somewhat steadily, some color returning to his face.

She turned to Etienne as Bishop roused himself slowly, looking over the Breton's wounds.

"I can help with some of these until we get to the temple," she nodded at him.

"Thanks… they're not too bad… there's just… a lot…" he sighed in relief as she got to work. It didn't take long, as most of the cuts were shallow, but the burns were beyond her ken. But with the potion in his system, the man would be fine enough to get to the temple for some rest and recuperation.

She felt a light brush of fingers on her arm when she finished healing Etienne, turning around to see Bishop watching her with half-lidded eyes.

"Bish… how are you feeling?" she returned her hand to stoke over his cheek right away, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Jus'… great… 'ncess…" he let out the words in strained effort, swallowing parts of them.

"I'll get you to the temple soon…" she planted a comforting kiss on his cheek, her hand still stroking over the other.

"Do you have the evidence?" Delphine approached them quickly as soon as Bishop regained some consciousness.

"Are you fucking serious?!" Aeyrin flipped suddenly, tearing herself away from Bishop and standing to face the woman. "Are you really that callous?! You don't think your damn evidence can wait one second so he doesn't die because of your stupid plan?!"

"You know why we do this! And stop talking about it in front of strangers!" Delphine hissed at her through gritted teeth, getting equally angry and frustrated.

"Only reason we did this was to humor your paranoia!" Aeyrin yelled at her again, until she was interrupted by Bishop's strained chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?" she threw her hands in exasperation.

"Look… good… angry…" his lips quirked up in tired amusement, making Aeyrin pinch the bridge of her nose with a sigh.

"Armor…" he mumbled after another brief strained chuckle. Aeyrin creased her brows – she knew what he meant. She was, however, very reluctant to give Delphine what she wanted after how she behaved. Then again, at least it would get rid of her. She couldn't look at her face anymore, hidden as it was under the hood.

Aeyrin crouched down by Bishop again, carefully uncovering more of his armor, palming tentatively around the insides to find any hidden documents in the inside pockets. She wondered if the idea for those came from his time with the Guild – they were perfect for stealing and smuggling.

"Here's your precious evidence! Now if you're not actually gonna help, leave!" Aeyrin threw the numerous papers and books after Delphine gradually, making her pick up every piece in frantic panic before the wind could carry anything away.

She stared at the documents for a while in silence, then looked back at them with a regretful shake of her head.

"Aeyrin… I'm sorry. I cannot show myself in Solitude… if someone recognized me… never mind. For what it's worth… I hope he's alright," she gave out a deep sigh.

"Just go!" Aeyrin yelled again, setting herself behind the wheelbarrow and helping Etienne up to his feet.

"I… I'll go through the papers… just… please meet me back… you know, where we met yesterday. Meet me there tomorrow."

Her voice was so grating to Aeyrin right then. She was certain that there would be nothing of use in those papers. Then she'd let that insane woman have it…

She nodded determinedly at Etienne as they headed forth together, along with the pitifully whining wolf and the rickety wheelbarrow carrying Bishop, towards the city, leaving the cloaked woman behind.

"What do you mean?"

Her frame buckled slightly under Bishop's weight as her eyes widened in both surprise and despair.

The wheelbarrow gave out right in front of the city gates – it was an old rotten thing, but at least it helped her get him up the hill in front of the city.

Bishop luckily stayed somewhat conscious, but he was not strong enough to walk or hold himself up. Etienne helped her support him for a time, but soon enough his own exhaustion got the better of him and he was lucky to be able to walk on his own.

Etienne told Aeyrin only that he and Bishop used to 'run in the same circles', upon which she immediately asked if he was with the Guild. Relieved not to have to hide the information from her, he told her that the Thalmor had ambushed him after a job near Markarth and the next thing he knew, he'd woken up in the torture room. They had asked him about someone who was supposed to be hiding in Riften, but he didn't have the information they wanted.

At last, they made it to the temple with a lot of difficulty, but their progress was halted again.

"I'm sorry, child, but a large group of soldiers was just brought here, their lives are in danger, I'm sure you understand," the priestess gave her a sympathetic smile.

"So is his! It can't wait! He needs proper healing!" she implored the woman pleadingly, her thoughts swirling in panic, thinking of how to convince her. Bishop stayed conscious with the potion in his system, but his burns were bad and she knew how much damage shock magic did to a person's organs. If he didn't get help soon, who knew what could happen to him? He was already even more strained from the journey.

"I'm sorry. All our healers are tending to the urgent cases. You will either have to wait, or…" she didn't finish the sentence, her brows creasing a bit as she looked over the half-limp man leaning against her drowsily.

The woman turned on her heel, returning towards the infirmary before Aeyrin could protest further.

What was she to do now? She has never met with such blatant disregard in a temple!

Casavir was right, war made people callous.

Oh!

Casavir!

"Etienne, I need to… get him somewhere else. Are you…" she looked him over worriedly as he leaned against the wall, resting his head on the cold stone.

"I'll be alright. I just… need rest. I have contacts here… they'll pay for my healing. When the priests have time…" he gave her a weak smile, nodding at her reassuringly.

She returned his smile, but then remembered something that plagued her mind occasionally during their return trip to the city.

"Etienne… could you, please,… not mention that you saw us…?" she gave him an uncertain look, readjusting herself slightly under Bishop's weight. If Mercer found out that they went to rob the Thalmor Embassy of its secrets, he would surely use it to blackmail them again. She didn't want to leave anything to chance.

"Uh… sure… if you want. No one needs to know who… actually got me out…" Etienne shrugged briefly, slumping a bit more along the wall.

"Thank you. And take care of yourself," she gave him a grateful smile and started to drag Bishop out of the temple.

If even Casavir wouldn't agree to help…

She was running out of options.

She spotted him across the yard.

Good, he could help her drag Bishop into the Castle – she was getting more and more exhausted by the second.

He was discussing something with the two soldiers guarding the Castle entrance. It was a good thing his armor was so shiny – she noticed him immediately.

"Casavir!" she called out, her knees buckling again, as if they were eager to rest already at the prospect of upcoming help.

She could have sworn she saw the scowl all across the yard.

It didn't matter, Bishop needed help and he had to provide it. It may have been calculating of her to abuse his vows for something he wouldn't want to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"My lady… what… happened?" he looked both of them over with furrowed brows, studying Bishop with narrowed eyes for a long while, as if to determine whether he was faking.

Bishop mumbled something, but was too weak to articulate anymore. He was likely gonna complain anyways. That wouldn't have been helpful.

"Is he inebriated again?" Casavir raised his brow disapprovingly.

"No! He's wounded! Casavir, please, I need your help," she gave him a hopeful look, ignoring Bishop's protesting groan.

Casavir looked at her for what seemed like a long time, before he sighed in resignation.

"I will help you get him to the temple, my lady," he nodded. He even looked a little proud of himself… Gods… just how much more petty could their spat get?

"They wouldn't heal him at the temple. They said that the healers are busy with soldiers. I need you to heal him!" she looked at him expectantly, a plea in her eyes.

Casavir's brows furrowed even further as he was palpably waging an internal war. He stared at Bishop with a worried expression, the hint of searing hatred still visible in the glint in his blue eyes.

"Casavir! He's wounded! You have to help him! You… we help those in need," her eyes stung with tears at her exasperation. She couldn't believe she actually had to convince him this much. And the priest at the temple… It was all so disheartening.

"You are determined to test my convictions, my lady…" he almost whispered the words, his head dipping low.

"Allow me," he finally nodded, draping Bishop's free arm over his shoulder, somewhat more roughly than necessary, and taking him away from Aeyrin's grasp.

She watched his hands work with fascination.

His healing capabilities were even more impressive than she thought. She always assumed that the paladins were concentrating more on their combat training, but his magic was on par with any experienced priest.

Maybe he could teach her some of the more elaborate spells and techniques. It would make their journeys so much easier.

"Ehm… you look very beautiful, my lady," he cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably, his eyes darting over to her briefly.

She blushed instantly. It seemed a strange and out-of-place thing to mention right then. But in a minute, she remembered she was still dressed in the clothes for the party.

"Oh… the dress… thank you. I even forgot I was still wearing it for a second," she smiled a little, her blush deepening when she noticed him look at her again.

There seemed to be a strange tension to the room as he said that. Maybe because Bishop was right there, half-conscious on the paladin's bed and in no condition to make some snide comment or angry insult.

"It's only… surprising. N-not the fact that you look beautiful! Just… the dress. I thought you wouldn't enjoy any other event that required such outfit. Considering…" he stammered a bit awkwardly, giving her a small smile after.

Dammit. She couldn't let Casavir know what they were up to! He was kind of in the employ of the Empire. She had no idea how much he associated with the Thalmor. Then again… she was there publicly. It was only Bishop who wasn't supposed to be there. There was that strange paranoia about the whole event again.

Maybe the Thalmor brought it out in people.

"I was invited to the Thalmor ambassador's gathering," she explained curtly.

Casavir suddenly stopped his ministrations, looking over the gradually healing burns on Bishop's chest with a deep scowl, then back at her with a suspicious look.

"He wasn't with me… he got wounded in the wilderness. Karnwyr led me to him when I left the event," she explained again. It surprised her how convincingly she said that. Then again, it was mostly true.

"Those are… severe magical burns…" Casavir raised his brow at her, the doubt on his face palpable. Everyone knew what powerful magic the Thalmor justiciars were capable of.

"…" she paused for a bit, racking her brain as fast as she could.

"Hagraven!" she almost yelled out. She remembered the last time Bishop got wounded by magic beyond her healing abilities. That was ages ago…

"Hagraven? Here, up north?" Casavir frowned at her deeply.

Did those things not live up north? Dammit. How was she supposed to know that?

"T-that's what he said… maybe… maybe he was making a joke? I-I don't know…" she stammered nervously. It would be better to leave the lying to someone more capable of it. Bishop would think of an excuse when he was up to it.

Casavir shook his head briefly before returning to his work, watching the burns slowly disappear from Bishop's body.

"As much as it irks me to say this, my lady, he will not be able to move much until he rests. It… would be likely best if he stayed here," Casavir sighed deeply, likely horrified at the prospect of Bishop staying in his room.

"Could I… could I stay here with him?" she gave him an uncertain expression. She wasn't exactly gonna let him deter her, but she knew she was already straining his tolerance of the situation.

"If… you insist…" he sighed, his brows furrowing again. "At least you would be able to prevent him from snooping around when he wakes…" a small smile tugged at his lips, as if he just figured out some master plan of Bishop's. To be fair, it did sound like something Bishop would do, just to piss the paladin off.

"I promise. And we'll be out of your hair as soon as he's well enough to move," she gave him a grateful smile.

"I will check on him in the morning. And I'll be interested to hear from him how he really got wounded," Casavir scowled yet again, nodding at her.

Well, Bishop would surely come up with something.

Or just make Casavir too frustrated to prolong any conversation with him.

That always seemed to work.