Chapter LXXXVIII – Of Loss and Painful Reminders
"For fuck's sake, would you please stop for a second?!"
She was already past the bridge and the farmsteads, following the road that eventually led to Riften.
For a while, it looked like she would ignore him, continuing on her way, likely as far away from Windhelm as possible.
She stopped after a while, her back still turned to him as he made his way around to face her, looking her over with a worried frown.
"What for? It's not like we can just sneak back in! And soon another girl will end up like her and he'll do nothing but use it to torment the elves again!" she still had that defiant stare in her eyes, but he could see past that. The only comfort she clung to after Susanna's death was taken from her – she couldn't make things right, she couldn't find solace in her revenge against the killer.
He knew that feeling all too well.
"Sweetheart… there's nothing you could have done… it won't bring her back…" he sighed. He wasn't sure how to comfort her. He knew there was no comfort for him back then.
She looked ready to retort something – to argue that she shouldn't give up in the face of adversity, that she couldn't let Ulfric win, but suddenly, something cracked.
No matter how much she wanted to resist, she couldn't. Everything that Ulfric said was true. She had no power, she was lucky to be free and alive. She made enemies of powerful people, thinking herself invincible and then she hoped to play a vigilante to ease her grief.
She was so stupid, so naïve.
So powerless.
She felt as if the whip slashed her across the back once again, punctuating the point.
She practically fell into his arms, burying her face in his chest. Her quiet sobs echoed across the empty road.
He wrapped his arms around her tightly in a consoling hug, but the loud cry of pain she let out into his tunic made him recoil sharply.
He stepped away from her, his hands resting gently on her shoulders as he looked her up and down again with concern.
She gave him a miserable look, wiping her tear-stained eyes hurriedly, before whispering with a quaver in her voice: "Can we please go make camp somewhere?"
He only nodded at her, not really sure what to say.
It was clear now that her back was in pain and he had an unpleasant feeling he knew why.
He got an urge to apologize for not rescuing her, but… it wasn't as if it would help anything. The damage was done.
…
She let out a soft pained cry every now and then while he worked on applying the herbal poultice to the slashes across her back.
He was trying to be as gentle as possible but it looked pretty bad.
She said that the old Talos priest healed her enough to stop the bleeding and remove the worst of the damage, but Ulfric forbade him from doing more.
She questioned the man on his duty to help, on adhering to Stendarr's command, but he scoffed at her, calling her ignorant yet again. He said that he was a priest of Talos and since the 'elves' decided to disjoint the faith, he had no obligation to adhere to any other commands than his.
The callousness of the priests in Skyrim was still staggering.
Maybe it was the same in Cyrodiil – she only ever spoke to a few of them from the other chapels, and they were those who were designated to deal with the theological questions of the public – they would likely portray their congregations in the best light possible.
Was she really so oblivious in Cyrodiil to all these things?
Skyrim was a harsh wake-up call and Casavir's words on people's callousness during war echoed in her mind again.
"You know I don't give a shit about the war, but I'm really hoping some Thalmor comes and fries Ulfric's fucking ass to a pulp, just to spite him," Bishop growled when she jerked in pain again. She refused to take a potion to numb the pain, not to deplete their supplies – they were better suited for emergencies and not for when she was resting.
Besides, the closest place to get more supplies was hopelessly barred to them…
"We should have gone to Sondas right away…" he sighed after she let out another hiss through her gritted teeth.
"I… I don't know…" she sighed a bit… not certain what his reaction would be. "I don't know if I want them gone…"
At first she was determined to forget this has ever happened, but then she remembered the scars on her leg. She wondered if she should let these go old and pale too – a bitter reminder of the harsh north. It might have snapped her from her naivety the next time…
"You sure? Why?" he creased his brows at her. She studied his face, turning her head back to look at him while he knelt above her lying form.
She knew it… he found them repulsive.
"Would it… bother you?" she cringed a bit asking that, but she needed to know.
"Not this again, sweetness, of course not! Although… any reminder of that horker-fucker is kinda bothersome… I just don't really see a reason. Especially since you'd be in pain for a lot longer than necessary. It's not like we can't afford the healing. And we'll be paying Sondas in meat again anyways," he smirked at her, gently applying the poultice to the last bits of the slashes.
"I just… I don't know… the ones… the ones I already have… I always felt like they reminded me of… what people were capable of. It reminded me that I should expect them to do their worst to achieve their goals. I think… it just feels like… I could use more of these reminders…"
There was a bit of silence before she continued, her eyes glittering with tears again.
"I mean… Ulfric was right about everything. I was so naïve to think that… that I could change things… that I could help anyone… It was so pointless… it brought only pain…"
Another bout of silence ensued, only broken by the chirping of crickets around them by the sulfuric pool.
"Alright…" Bishop sighed, his brows furrowed deeply, "… now it bothers me."
"W-what?" her eyes went wide at him.
"Are you seriously gonna let that fucker affect you like this?!" he raised his voice angrily, his gaze piercing hers.
"What?! You're the one who always argues about these things with me!"
"Yeah! And I'll keep doing that because I want to save your neck! Not 'cause I want you to change!" he yelled at her, making her stare at him dumbfounded.
"I… do you have any idea how much I love that fucking stubborn attitude of yours?! Like fuck I'm gonna let that asshole beat that out of you!"
She felt tears stinging her eyes again, but this time there was no sorrow and defeat in them. She shot up from her position, ignoring the pain and discomfort in her back and she wrapped herself around him in a tight hug, burying her head into the side of his neck.
He returned her embrace carefully, his hands woven into her hair on her head and neck, cautious not to touch her injuries as he pressed her face firmly into his skin.
She whispered a quiet word of thanks to him and grazed her lips against the stubbly jaw, relishing the feeling again.
"Still… there's nothing I can do now…" she sighed a bit, disentangling herself from him carefully and lying back on her stomach. Her bare breasts were pressed below her into the bedroll a bit uncomfortably, but it was better than straining her back.
"Yeah… doesn't mean you should give up all hope. Never thought I'd fucking say this…" Bishop scoffed a bit. He cleared his throat and applied a mockingly haughty tone to his voice, likely to still preserve some semblance of his aloofness: "The path will reveal itself!"
She couldn't help but burst out laughing at him. He wasn't the only one. She never imagined hearing the mantra from him either. But it did ease the somber mood pleasantly.
…
"You know… I never really knew anyone I was… at least a little close with who died…" she pondered.
The sun was starting to set but they didn't leave the tundra. They both lay on the bedroll, both half-undressed. Aeyrin was really cold, but she couldn't stand anything touching her back right then and the wounds needed to breathe anyways. She was determined to suffer through it. Her legs at least were warmed by the thick fur blanket while Bishop's warm hand slowly stroked over any parts of her back that didn't look too painful and sore.
"Really?" he raised his brows at her.
"There were some old priests who died while I was in the temple, but I never knew them very well. I had friends leave after their vigils or on pilgrimages and I… I don't really know if… if my father still lives. But… this is the first time it's so… final," she explained rather calmly. It felt like she was all cried out. It did strangely help before.
"I know we didn't know her that long or that well but…still… And seeing her like… like that…" she shook her head, closing her eyes firmly as if to chase away the image.
"Yeah…" he nodded briefly.
There was another moment of silence, the chirping of the crickets only punctuating it further.
"A lot of people I knew died… but… none of them really meant shit before Jules. Fuck… no one alive ever meant anything before him…" Bishop scoffed.
"Why is that? Not even in your family?" she looked at him curiously. Whenever he mentioned Jules, there was always a strangely tempting opportunity to ask more about his past.
"Fuck no! Jules was the only one of them worth a damn. And after he… I don't know… it's just easier…" he shrugged noncommittally, playing with a strand of her hair.
"You mean… don't get attached and no one gets hurt?" she asked.
That was an understatement… with Thorn's threats, the implications of people getting 'hurt' were way more serious.
"Yeah…"
"I never understood that… Isn't it more… painful to be alone?" she shook her head. She hated feeling lonely – if she didn't have the knowledge of having a place to call home, friends to return to, she would have never really felt happy.
"I'm kinda surprised you'd think that. Doesn't sound like you've met many people who inspired that when you were a kid…" he certainly knew that his own experiences with his family and the bandits didn't exactly leave him eager for companionship. Not that he wasn't glad that she wasn't a jaded loner like him. She would have never offered to help him back when they met.
"Maybe… but I saw the other kids running around the city. None of them would ever talk to a filthy street rat, but… they were all laughing and playing together… I was so jealous. And then Master Therien took me in and it felt like I've finally found something I've been missing…" she smiled wistfully, but a frown returned to her face in a second.
"It's stupid but… I kinda… understood what Susanna was going through… She must have felt just like that. When we took her to cornerclub and things with the elves cleared up… I was thinking how Master Therien would be proud of me. How I did for her just what he did for me… how I… saved her," she scoffed a bit in both embarrassment and guilt at that word. As if anyone could have claimed that she was saved…
"Just because things turned to shit, doesn't mean you didn't do any good before…" he nodded at her encouragingly while still stroking over her shoulder with gentle motions.
She gave him another grateful smile. He made her feel so much better through all of this.
"So… I have a question…" she gave him a wry look. "You say stuff about people being not worth the trouble and not getting attached, but… you're not like that with me. Not really. And I don't mean just me… others too, when we're together…"
He was staring at her for a while, as if pondering the reason himself.
"You… are bad fucking influence, princess."
She chuckled at him, but waited for him to elaborate, eliciting a somewhat exasperated sigh from him.
"It's not as if I planned to get attached… you know why I stayed with you in the first place,"
"You wanted to sleep with me?" she smirked at him with an involuntary blush spreading on her face.
"Yeah. And the money from the loot was good," he snickered back at her before his expression turned a bit more serious. "I honestly have no idea what the fuck happened. And I don't know why you seem to run into people that don't actually actively annoy me once in a while. There's something weird about you, ladyship."
She giggled at that. She disentangled one of her arms from under her head and brushed it softly over the hard muscles of his chest. "Maybe you're just… happier… when you're not alone all the time…"
"Pfft… don't try to analyze me, sweetheart. I did have Karnwyr. And what does it matter anyways? Just be grateful that I don't decide to scare off everyone who tries to get chummy with you."
They both laughed for a while. It wasn't really hard to imagine him doing that.
"I also noticed that most of those you actually find… not 'actively annoying' are women," she smirked at him, brushing the tips of her fingers through the hair between his pecs.
"Are you jealous again, ladyship? I love it when you get jealous," he purred in a low voice, leaning in to kiss her briefly, careful not to get them too worked up – she wasn't really able to move much with her wounds still reacting under the poultice.
"No! Just curious…" she smiled in response. She really wasn't jealous of the women he befriended – she knew by now how it looked when he wanted someone and she didn't see that look on his face once with Aela or Lydia or even Susanna, despite their previous encounter.
"Maybe because most of the women don't drool over just the sight of you! That tends to piss me off. But it's not like there's no one… I kinda like Ambarys and most of the other elves we drink with. And I guess Brynjolf would be alright if he got his head out of that fucker Frey's ass… And Athis isn't as big of a dickhead as the other Companions…" he pondered for a while.
"See?! You're so friendly! You like so many people already!" she laughed at him, poking his chest teasingly.
He groaned in annoyance and shook his head at her.
"How did you not annoy me back then? I think I was too busy watching that ass of yours to notice," he smirked, giving her a sharp smack on her behind, making her body jerk in surprise. A yelp of pain escaped her lips instantly.
"Shit! Sorry, sweetness!" he started stroking over her uninjured areas quickly with a wry smile.
"I… think I'd like to go to Sondas tomorrow…" she cringed a bit, still a little uncertain of the decision. But the pain was really bad, especially with the reacting poultice – it would help in the long run, but it burned and irritated the wounds before it did. It was never really necessary when magical healing was available.
He did reassure her more than he probably realized with his words. Just the fact that despite his constant grumbling, complaints and argument, he still liked her for exactly who she was. It meant much more than if he tried to blindly comply to her side of things.
Especially since she felt the same way about him – she would have had him no other way.
…
His lips and tongue traveled across her bare back, now completely healed of the nasty gashes from the whip.
She groaned, shivering, but she still felt a little sore and the skin was still a bit swollen and red and in need of fresh air. At the very least, she eventually managed to cover her back with a blanket through the night and didn't get sick from the cold again, on top of her injuries. But the stiff rigorous position of the previous day and night only irritated her sore back further.
Besides, they were in a camp full of miners, only secluded by a leather tent – not like her sensibilities would allow her to let this go further, even with a gag or something – that did not work as well as she previously thought.
"Bish…" her voice carried a little warning, but was still pleased and warm. The previous day was surprisingly cathartic. The bitter taste after the events in Windhelm was still there, but it was steadily being pushed back by the memories of Bishop's comforting words.
The path would reveal itself.
Maybe she'd get the chance to make things right, to give some justice to Susanna.
She even felt a bit better after composing another letter to Master Therien, telling him all about her new endeavor with Jora. The thought of taking away the really devoted priests and followers of Talos from under Ulfric's heel was now even more tempting than before.
She would undermine him, no matter how long she had to pretend to conform.
That man would fall.
Bishop didn't stop kissing at her back while she was organizing things in her pack, trying to ignore his ministrations.
That proved much harder when his hands snuck around her, grasping both her breasts and kneading them eagerly.
She gasped at the sensation, slapping his hands away in a second.
She turned to him, only to see an unapologetic grin spread across his face. She couldn't help herself but giggle before giving him a deep kiss.
And he called her a bad influence!
She tore herself away from him after a while and patted his cheek lightly.
"Tomorrow… when we're alone…" she winked at him, tossing her pack aside and lying herself on the bedroll. She spread her arms invitingly to indicate her want for his embrace.
He studied her bare breasts for a while with a pleased smirk, now that she was turned to him, before he entangled himself with her, resting his head against hers contentedly as they curled together.
Only a day ago, she couldn't have even imagined herself smiling ever again.
What would she have ever done in this place without him?
