Author's Note:

Happy holidays, my dear readers :)

I hope you all celebrate whatever it is you celebrate this time of year with lots of happiness and love all around. Enjoy your holidays as best as you can, considering the circumstances, and stay safe, all of you.

And make some memories.

Aeyrin and Bishop certainly made a lot of them before and after they met – this chapter is a little about both ;)

Hope you enjoy :)


Chapter LXXX – Reminiscing

They left Ivarstead behind rather late the next morning.

After returning from the barrow, they gave Lynly the journal of the 'ghost', reassuring her that there were no more threats from the ruins to their village. She was eager to hear what happened and eventually, they ended up telling their tale to an entire tavern-full of enraptured listeners.

Well… save for some details about how Aeyrin got them from the sticky situations. She was certainly not eager to have the crowd know for certain that she was the Dragonborn.

They celebrated their success more privately afterwards, sleeping in almost until noon after their exertions.

Their next destination lay right across Lake Geir – Nilheim.

They were headed towards Darkwater Crossing. Aeyrin wrapped up Bishop's hand but, with his little finger broken, she couldn't really do more than ensure that it wasn't misaligned. His burned calf wasn't completely healed either, but luckily the boot got the worst of it. Sondas would surely be able to help though, and any lingering bruises or contusions would be easy to take care of for him. They could also sell some meat and pelts while they were on a roll with gaining funds. The broken tower was a good place for hunting. Besides, it sounded like a nice idea to visit it again and relax there for a while. They both had good memories of the place.

They took the southern road towards Nilheim, traversing to the other bank of the Treva River near the old fort they helped liberate from bandits long ago.

It was only slightly past noon when they reached the old crumbled tower and climbed up the stairs to the wooden platform.

Bishop took out his bow, ready if he spotted any prey, but he mainly just sent Karnwyr to hunt for some critters alone and bring them the haul. He was more interested in lazing atop the tower with Aeyrin.

Karnwyr looked a bit dejected. Well… Bishop was neglecting their hunts lately, letting him go off alone for the majority of times. He was… busy.

"I think he's lonely… you are a bad friend," Aeyrin chuckled at Bishop teasingly while the wolf walked away with his head low and Bishop sat himself beside her on the platform, settling with his arm draping over her.

"He's just being needy… I'll go with him next time," Bishop grumbled, rolling his eyes. Truth was, he did feel a bit guilty about letting him take care of the hunting by himself lately. And he did miss their excursions to some extent.

But the alternative was just so… irresistible.

Bishop leaned his head towards her, nuzzling into her hair, his teeth nipping teasingly on the tip of her pointed ear, which elicited a pleased murmur from her.

She huddled closer to him, her hand resting comfortably on his thigh, stroking over the leather of his black armor, playing with the buckles.

"You never told me how you and Karnwyr actually met… just that it was here…" she mused idly, her fingers, clad in her underchain, tapping lightly on his leg.

"Yeah…" Bishop paused, running the back of his hand over the side of her neck slowly.

His brows creased for a while. This was a dangerous topic. If he told her about Karnwyr and about…

Fuck… he was so tired of this.

All the lies, all the secrets. He knew he couldn't tell her everything. He had to protect her from Thorn.

But he was getting so obsessive over this. If there was one person in this world who would understand, who wouldn't judge him, he was sure it was her.

And in that moment he wanted her to know him. Not everything, but… at least some of it. The things that wouldn't put her in jeopardy. The things that didn't admit that he was lying to her. The things that maybe weren't so… bad.

He always thought that carrying this shit alone was a necessity. Maybe because he never had anyone who would just listen, never had anyone who wanted to know him.

"At that time…" he started, taking a deep breath, "Jules and I have just arrived in Skyrim. We had nothing and we weren't exactly… trained in much else than occasional hunting and… well not anything exactly… legal…" he scoffed. He never really concerned himself with laws and shit like that, but even he could tell when too much was just… too much. It wasn't like he was particularly enjoying banditry, but it was all they knew at that time.

"Anyway… we kind of stumbled into an… opportunity I guess. A… bandit clan took us in," he stopped for a spell, bracing himself for her reaction.

He felt her pull away slightly from him, her hand stopping its lazy movements over his leg, dropping at her side instead. He didn't meet her eyes for a time but he could feel her gaze. He was sure it was filled with uncertainty and trepidation.

"We barely got away from our family and we didn't really… have any other skillsets…" he sighed, shaking his head. "And it wasn't as if anyone was exactly looking for two dingy homeless kids for a paying job," he gave her a weak smirk, still not looking directly at her.

"It wasn't so bad… it was mostly raids on other bandit clans and sometimes robbing people on the road. We didn't even kill anyone unless they attacked…" he tried to justify it a bit. The years under Sammy were really mild as opposed to what came later. And it was necessary. Necessary for their freedom and necessary to keep Jules alive.

She didn't speak, but he could feel the crease between her brows. Not like he didn't know that she wouldn't approve.

"Jules… he was sick. And this was the only way we could find that provided him with the healing he needed," he looked down towards the lake – the place he finally found out that there was no helping his brother. The place he found out that no matter how much he did, how much he sacrificed, how much he groveled and did everything any given scum of the Nirn ordered him to, he would never actually find a cure for him.

"It was… fine… for a time… but he was getting worse. I actually came here, looking for a witch who worked for the clan, to get her to heal him. That's when I met Karnwyr. She was looking over some cubs and their mother… bred for the pits. The pup kinda… took to me, I guess," a slight fond smile spread across his lips. From the moment he and Karnwyr met, there was an odd connection between them.

"Anyway… things kinda turned to shit gradually then… the clans started warring and the… underlings… were shoved around from one dickhead to another for a time…" until Thorn came

"Getting out of all that shit wasn't exactly easy. Eventually, it took Mercer, taking us under his protection, to get away from that life…" until Bishop fucked things up, that is.

He stopped there. The things that happened after were too dangerous for her curiosity. She would without a doubt ask too many questions about Thorn if she knew there was a bandit clan still threatening him and those close to him.

They both remained silent for a while, their closeness suddenly gone, even though they sat next to each other, both of them staring at the shimmering lake in contemplation.

None of it was that bad, right? She wouldn't really condemn him for trying to survive… for trying to help his brother…

"So… you really didn't… kill people for their things… or you know… kidnap people to ransom them and stuff like that?" she shuffled her thumbs a bit. It was somewhat disheartening imagining him in those situations… She knew he didn't have an easy life, but the bandits she met up until now never really gave her the impression that they had any conscience whatsoever.

"It was… more profitable to just rob people. If you kill a merchant, he won't come back with more goods later, right? And taking over another clan was even better… it got the clan new people and all their stuff… generally, most bandits just kill each other and don't bother with the civilians. Too much hassle if the guards take notice anyways…" he sighed.

That was the way under most of the bosses he managed to live through. But eventually, things got worse. And it wasn't just what they did to people… the way Thorn treated his own men and women was sickening.

There was another long moment of silence.

Aeyrin's mind was now more concerned with other things than how sketchy his past really was. Was it like that for most of the bandits they killed? Were they just making the best out of a bad situation? Just trying to survive, or help their families? It was somewhat concerning…

Or maybe Bishop was different… she could see it even at the Guild… he was the one unable to stand for Mercer's abuse, while the others just gritted their teeth and let it happen.

Master Therien always warned her that the world wasn't as black and white as the religious texts painted it, but if she had to think about the lives of every criminal and bandit they encountered, she would hardly manage to help anyone at all by leaving them all be, just in case.

She was glad that she didn't meet Bishop back then. Who knew how it could have ended?

"What about Jules? Did the witch cure him?" she asked after a while, their eyes finally meeting. There was deep sorrow palpable in his as he shook his head.

"There was no cure… his father was a Khajiit… apparently even his conception should have been impossible. But she did care for him for a time… kept him relatively healthy."

She laced her fingers in his after a bit, noticing the grateful smile on his face.

"Is that how he…?" she broached the subject carefully. It was plain to see that he was still struggling with his brother's death. She wondered how long ago it happened.

"No… he was… killed in battle. But by then… it wouldn't have been long…" he furrowed his brows, his eyes darting towards the chain on her neck, the ring at its end hidden under her armor for safekeeping.

Her thumb grazed over the back of his leather glove. There was not much they could feel through their equipment, but she hoped he would appreciate the gesture.

His family must have been just as bad as her father, if not worse, to leave their children thinking there was no other option in their life than to resort to banditry. The way he put it, it didn't sound as bad as she would expect bandit life to be. The ones they encountered either attacked them on sight, or threatened them with other stuff. And she's always heard horror stories of bandit clans ransacking settlements and kidnapping nobles and such.

But it wasn't as if she didn't do some… awful things at those times when she thought she had no other choice. It took someone showing her there was another way. If she never met Master Therien, who knew how much worse it could have gotten.

Their contemplation got interrupted by a deer, scampering towards the lake to take a sip of the crystalline water.

Bishop disentangled himself from her, grabbing his bow and felling it in one shot, despite the sharp pain that shot through his finger as he drew it.

That along with Karnwyr's haul would provide them with a decent amount of money from the village, even with the healing, but they could still wait for another one.

They both descended the tower together to work on stripping the meat from the bones and stashing it into food sacks.

"So… what are you thinking?" Bishop asked her uncertainly as they worked in silence, cutting off the chunks of meat from the animal carcass with the occasional twitch of pain from his injured finger.

"I'm… not sure… I… don't like imagining you as a bandit… and I really don't like thinking about how many of them we killed and… who could they have been…" she shook her head, focusing on the corpse below her hands rather than on him.

"Yeah… you know… we really mostly just… stumbled into it. Most of the people in the clans… well… a lot of them chose that life. A lot of them wanted to do even worse… There were some people that got there just by some bad circumstances and wanted out, but… well those weren't the people that would generally attack you on sight…" he sighed, tying up one food sack and opening up another for them to fill.

It was a bit comforting that he and his brother were mostly an exception… it still gave her an oddly uncomfortable feeling in her gut when she thought of him in a bandit clan, but rationally, she had no reason to be upset over it. She knew the man he was now… and even from what he told her, it sounded like all he was ever doing was surviving and protecting his brother, despite the things he participated in.

It was somewhat heartwarming in that situation.

She gave him a somewhat uncertainly warm smile after a while, making sure that he knew she wasn't concerned about his past. Uncomfortable, certainly, but not concerned.

Bishop instinctively smiled back, his hand darting to her cheek to stroke over it fondly… accidentally leaving a rather prominent blood smear on her face and bits of her hair.

They managed to kill one more deer before Karnwyr returned victoriously with a couple of rabbit carcasses in his maw. After some more time, they were ready to head towards Darkwater Crossing at last.

Before they left, however, Bishop and Aeyrin shared one more kiss by the tower in the glow of the setting sun – for old times' sake.

When they reached the mining village, the residents were already gathered around the fire for the eve, greeting them excitedly.

"Well, if it isn't my rescuers again," Derkeethus gave them a warm smile, ushering some of the villagers to make room for them by the fire.

"We're heading to Sondas first… but you better prepare 'your rescuers' something better than… whatever that is," Bishop smirked at the Argonian, pointing towards the large pot of vegetable stew on the communal fire. He dropped the food sacks by the fire, knowing that the villagers wouldn't try to short-change him after they returned. He had plenty of experience with dealing with them, and besides, Derkeethus was still too grateful to let anyone steal from them.

They entered Sondas's house together, calling the old Dunmer to them.

"Again? You two don't seem so good at this whole adventuring thing… might wanna rethink that…" Sondas snorted at them while they removed their armor, showing him the bruises, burns and the fracture.

"What happened this time?" the Dunmer sighed, looking over Bishop's finger, now all swollen because he didn't bother keeping it safe – he was gonna get healing anyways and Aeyrin could hardly hunt down a deer without scaring it to death before she even got to it.

"A dragon toppled me," Bishop laughed, earning a derisive scoff from Aeyrin.

"Amateur… didn't you see it coming? They're pretty big," Sondas gave him a wry smirk, shaking his head.

The healing didn't take much time, Sondas really knew what he was doing. Aeyrin asked him curiously if he could teach her some useful spells to better her healing, but he brushed her off, saying that he 'didn't have time to teach children too dumb to know how not to get wounded'. As insulting as it was, he did tell her that they usually take in anyone willing to learn at the College of Winterhold.

They left the house not even an hour later. Arriving to a dinner already laid out and waiting for them, and the miners eager for their stories of adventures, as well as an excited wolf playing with Hrefna.

"Mister hunter, elf lady! Did you know that there was a dragon flying over the pools?" the girl waved at them excitedly, pointing towards the dry tundra of Eastmarch, barely visible in the moonlight behind the sparse trees.

She looked so thrilled… the last time they spoke to her, she seemed terrified of the prospect of dragons.

"There was? When?" Aeyrin peered at the tundra worriedly. She remembered the large number of empty burial grounds they found during their stay there. And ever since the ordeal near Solitude, she was much warier of what another soul would do to her. Maybe there was some kind of limit on how much her body could take. That was a daunting prospect.

"A week or so ago… there were others before too! I was really scared at first, but they don't hurt us. And they're really pretty when they fly!" Hrefna clasped her hands wistfully. The village was so lucky to be spared from an attack next to a veritable breeding ground.

Wait… 'breeding ground'?

Did dragons even breed? Divines, she hoped not!

Some of the religious texts said that they were eternal – the aspect of Akatosh that has always been and will always be… but the men of ancient times managed to slay them all, earning the God's disfavor. But religious texts were sadly often… inaccurate about history, ascribing everything to the will of the Aedra overly meticulously.

Whatever the truth was, it was obvious that the dragon that Hrefna saw was long gone. Maybe they would run into some at the tundra on their way back to Windhelm.

They told the curious villagers a few stories from their travels and Aeyrin played some songs again, before they were lulled into sleep by the relaxed atmosphere. It was getting pretty late and they were somewhat eager to get to the tundra the next day.

The pools were beckoning them already.

"You know, today is the fifteenth…"

Aeyrin pondered as she shifted in Bishop's lap, her back pressed closely to him, his arms around her, occasionally stroking over her wet skin while the warm sulfuric water sloshed gently around them.

"So?" he chuckled, leaning his head on her shoulder lazily. His hand moved to brush and pull softly at the wet strand of her hair laying over her breast.

"Today's the North Winds Prayer. We used to celebrate and hold special sermons every year at the temple. I even returned each time for the occasion after I left. This is the first time I'm not there…" she sighed wistfully, looking over the cloudy night skies.

"Don't tell me this isn't more fun," Bishop snickered, biting into her shoulder teasingly.

She swatted at his cheek with a scoff, a smile tugging at her lips while she shook her head: "Please, don't compare yourself to the temple."

"Why not? I bet you call out to your Gods way more often with me," he laughed, earning both an eye roll and a barely subdued giggle from her as her cheeks flushed. How did his comments still make her blush? She would have thought she'd build up some resilience by now…

They stayed silent for a while. Aeyrin was still watching the skies, relaxing in his embrace while he played with her hair over her breasts idly, both of them too tired to engage in any more ministrations. It must have been pretty late already. They have stayed in the pool for hours, but it was the best place to keep warm in the tundra.

"You miss it?" he asked after a while, noticing her expression still deep in thought.

"Sometimes… I don't regret leaving but… I would have liked to at least know I can return and talk to the people there every once in a while. But with the state things are now… I don't think I'll be crossing the border again anytime soon," she sighed. The last time certainly deterred her from crossing too often. And besides, now she'd just feel… guilty. Abandoning Skyrim to the dragons, even for a while only to seek personal comfort, seemed like a selfish thing to do.

"You can still write," Bishop shrugged in response.

"Yeah… and I don't think about returning as much as I used to back in Cyrodiil," she gave him a warm smile, turning her head slightly towards him. "Maybe because I'm not alone all the time anymore…"

Bishop squeezed her tighter in his embrace, kissing her while her face was turned to him.

Another bout of comfortable silence ensued in a while. It was such a contrast from the unpleasant minutes when he told her about his bandit days.

"I don't really go to temples, but I don't think they celebrate that North Winds thing here…" he pondered after a while. He's never heard of it, but then again, if he did, he likely wouldn't retain that information. The thought of hurrying to Windhelm in the morning crossed his mind, but he wasn't exactly sure what day it actually was. It may have been after midnight. Did she mean the previous day or this one? He never really kept track of these things, but she liked planning things a lot more than him. Knowing the date likely went with that.

"It's not surprising… I was just thinking if I actually had a reason to celebrate…" she smirked, giggling a little as she continued. "It is a thanksgiving to the Divines for a bountiful harvest… and a mild winter."

Bishop laughed, adding with a teasing tone: "This is mild."

She groaned, turning her head to the side again and placing it on his shoulder.

When she got here, she never even imagined that she would stay until winter, and certainly not for more than one!

But right then, she couldn't imagine ever leaving.