Author's Note:

You guys like symbolism? I sure do O:) There's some smut in this chapter so mind the kink warning on this one (again, the lemon is indicated by an asterisk). If you are gonna skip it, however, make sure to read the rest of the chapter after it (the last two sections). It's not that it's that integral to the story but… I'm just… kinda proud of that part :D It was definitely a lot of fun to write.

I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

And thank you all again for reading and commenting and voting and all that jazz :)

Chapter CXVII – Haunted Pasts

Aeyrin's eyes darted to Bishop covertly again.

He hadn't talked to her since they left the fort in a very morose mood. Most of his attention was concentrated on Karnwyr the entire time during the long walk. He was being somewhat overly affectionate with the wolf just then, always ruffling his fur, letting him circle his legs and get underfoot constantly. Not that he wasn't affectionate with him all the time, but Aeyrin was noticing it much more now, oddly enough.

Maybe she was just jealous.

He hasn't paid any attention to her at all. He wasn't concerned whether she got rid of her wounds with no trouble and he wasn't concerned about how she was feeling after their assault. She knew that he was angry because she went against their plan, but… this felt a little excessive.

"Aren't we gonna camp?" she tried to break the uncomfortable silence in a while with a hopeful look in her eyes. At least that would force them to talk, hopefully.

"No. We need to move. We can't risk the elf coming back through this area and putting two and two together," Bishop answered briskly without as much as sparing her a glance.

Well… he did have a point. Although, she kind of hoped to actually find the Altmer and to put an end to him, once and for all. She's never expected an operation of that scope. It might have even been supplying the entire province. That needed to end, no matter what. But the man behind it all still eluded them like a slippery slimeslither.

"Where are we even going?" she asked again after another bout of uncomfortable silence.

Finally Bishop stopped marching forward and his brows creased in pondering realization.

"I don't know…" he mumbled somewhat quietly. He thought about going back to Karliah and giving her the news, but… that would mean going back to Solitude again. Although… she may not have even been there anymore. She might have moved to another location for another mission.

Getting out of the wilderness around the fort and into a city was the best option to stay inconspicuous.

"Dawnstar's closest," he mumbled again.

Aeyrin let out a sigh at that. She wasn't exactly eager to go back to Dawnstar, but… maybe it wouldn't be so bad now. They were just dreams after all. She didn't even remember them. She only remembered the horrible feeling she had after she woke up. But… how bad could some nightmares actually be? And she was kind of eager to stop this uncomfortable silent march. She kept wondering about how to ease the tension, but she always came up with nothing.

He was overreacting. Everything turned out fine in the end.

"Alright…" she sighed again. He still didn't look in her direction at all and he just continued on his way towards the town.

It was somewhat infuriating.

They'd walked for another half-hour before she just couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Are you going to be like that the entire time?" she gritted her teeth at him finally.

He threw her an incredulous look, but at least he looked at her.

"Are you fucking kidding me? That's what you're going with, after everything?" he scoffed before he shook his head in annoyance.

"W-well… I… I know that I went a little… against the plan there, but… everything worked out in the end…" she pouted at him. No one could have gotten out of there after all. The operation was decimated and every one of those scumbags was dead. That was a good result, wasn't it?

"A 'little' against the plan?! You practically charged the plan and threw it off a fucking mountain! But, fine… I'm so glad your conscience is clear. Who cares about what you might have done, right? As long as you got your revenge," his scowl deepened again and his eyes returned to the road ahead, refusing to meet hers.

"Why are you concerned so much over what might have happened?" Aeyrin shook her head at him in confusion. This was rather uncharacteristic of him. She would have expected him to be more relieved and perhaps a little happy about making such a mess out of Mercer's associate's operation.

"Maybe because, thanks to you, we don't know if it might have happened, or if it actually has happened! There was another exit! And with you on your chaotic rampage, I couldn't really make sure that no one reached it, could I? Not to fucking mention that, if it wasn't for Karnwyr, both of you would have been decorating that fucking fort with your charred corpses now! But it's not like you care about that, right? Not like you ever care about either of us when you have some petty dealers to kill…" his voice trailed off gradually and his yelling turned into a quiet murmur.

She gave him an uncertain guilty look. She really didn't think that anyone escaped, it was surely impossible. And how could he say that she didn't care about what happened to them?! Sure, she got… a little… absorbed… but… that was only natural after what she saw in there – those huge vats, all those boxes that were there to only ruin people's lives, cause more and more misery and to destroy families.

"I was wounded and you cared more about the fucking corpses…" Bishop's angry stare turned into one of hurt. He still didn't meet her eyes and now he just morosely stared into the ground.

Gods… that made her feel so guilty. She remembered exactly what moment he was referring to. She just… wanted to check if the explosions killed every one of those scums. He was right… the thought to check on him or on Karnwyr didn't even cross her mind at that point.

Was she really still so consumed by her hatred of Ri'zhassa? Why was she still unable to let go of her past? It was heartbreaking that the man she hated still had more sway over her actions than the man she loved.

She thought that Bishop was overreacting, but to be honest, she barely remembered what happened there. She remembered fighting, Shouting, then Karnwyr's alarmed bark as he lodged his teeth behind her plated boot and dragged her forcefully until she realized she should run. She grabbed him in her arms and Shouted to get away from the vats. She didn't even know Bishop was there in the hallway until she collided with him… She was just going by instinct, the thought of where he was didn't even occur to her, even though deep down she already knew that the vats were going to blow.

That knowledge disturbed her so much. He meant so much to her and she didn't even spare him a single thought when she was in that… state. They were supposed to watch each other's backs.

"Forget it…" Bishop scoffed after the excruciatingly long while of silence.

She didn't even realize that she had been silent for so long, but when she did, she quickly stopped him in his tracks by laying her hand on his arm gently and looking up at his morose face.

"I… I am really sorry, Bish. I don't… I don't know why I let that happen to me. I… didn't even really know what was happening… I just…" she sighed regretfully with a brisk shake of her head. She felt the tears well up again. And she thought that getting rid of the dealers would make her feel better. How naïve. She felt even more miserable now than after the encounter with the soldiers.

Bishop let out an exasperated and somewhat defeated sigh before he outstretched his arms a little reluctantly to let her fall against his chest in a desperate hug. After all, it was not like he couldn't understand doing something stupidly reckless as a reaction to one's painful past.

After a while, he pushed her away gently and placed his palms on the sides of her face to look into her eyes intently.

"Never again, alright? The next time we run into that Altmer pisshead, you're making yourself ethereal, or something like that, and you're letting me handle it, understood? You… you shouldn't be letting the shit in your past get to you like this, sweetness." He looked her over rather sympathetically now and his face softened considerably after his previous mood. He didn't want her to be dragging that shit around like he was. She didn't have to. She was far away from anyone who made her life miserable back then. Unlike him…

She broke away from his hands and buried herself in his chest again, disregarding the blood-covered armors that were separating them.

She wasn't ready to let go of him yet.

Now that she fully realized what she almost caused… she wasn't sure she'd ever be willing to let go of him.

…

"Why didn't you say something?" Aeyrin ran her hand over the deep slash on Bishop's bicep with a disapproving expression on her face. His shoulder wasn't healed completely yet either.

He just smirked in response, shaking his head while she worked on his wounds meticulously.

It was such a shame that they had left Solitude before Azshan could teach her some more powerful healing spells, but she was still glad to be away from there after everything that had transpired. Now she just had to make do with what she already knew, but, luckily, these wounds weren't beyond her ken, even with how tired she was.

They were both so exhausted after the day's events and stress, but she was still somewhat wary of sleeping in Dawnstar. The inn was already quiet, even at a relatively early hour, and she couldn't help but think that everyone was likely trying to get as much sleep as they could with constant nightmares plaguing them.

When she was finally done with the healing, she placed a gentle kiss on his arm before she threw him a demure smile. Bishop returned the gesture readily by giving her a gentle kiss on the lips and letting his hand entangle in her hair softly.

She barely got a second of that gentle treatment before his kiss got hungrier and his tongue slipped inside her mouth eagerly. His other hand snaked over her jaw and began stroking her cheek.

* He pressed against her and pushed her down on the bed until she lay below him. His hands traveled down to the hems of her tunic and he draped it over her head with one quick motion. He moved his kisses down to her cleavage instantly, nipping at her flesh while his hands ran over her flanks and hips.

"So… hmmm… I take it, you're not angry with me anymore…" she giggled a bit in between the pleased whimpers that were escaping her lips. Gods, how she loved the feeling of his lips pressing against her breasts, his tongue teasing her nipples and the slight rough scratch of his stubble grazing her skin.

Bishop stopped his ministrations suddenly and his head snapped up from her chest quickly. His eyes watched her intently for a while as if in sudden realization.

What was that supposed to mean? Was he still angry at her and just… forgot?

A second later, a wicked smirk spread on his face and the hungry look was back in his eyes as they roved slowly over her form. "Well… I'm not angry, but… I still think you should get punished for your recklessness," he gave her a sly wink, accentuated by him biting into his lower lip briefly.

She raised herself up on her elbows a bit while she tried to decipher the looks that he was giving her. It sounded like he had something… specific in his mind. Her eyes glittered lightly and her cheeks flushed even more in the intrigued anticipation.

"R-really? How… how would you…?" she stammered a bit. She knew that it was something which would definitely test her sensibilities, but he's never done anything to her before that she didn't like. It made her so eager to see what he had in mind. She pondered for a bit if anyone in the inn would be able to hear them, but she's already been finding herself less and less concerned with that lately. No amount of trepidation could erase the eagerness to give into the passion.

Bishop laid himself down next to her on his side and his eyes continued to roam up and down her body. One of his hands supported his own head while the other one began to gently run over her body, occasionally drawing lazy circles around her hardened nipples and making her shiver in response.

His head dipped into her shoulder after a while and his teeth nipped lightly on her earlobe. "Get rid of those clothes, love," he murmured in her ear in that low voice that always sent a wave of heat through her entire body.

He watched her with an intense stare as she slowly hooked her fingers below the waistband of her trousers. She slid them down slowly and kicked them off herself with her feet before Bishop ushered her to lie down again. He slowly began moving his fingers down her belly to the thin fabric of her undergarments. Every time his hand moved a little lower, the tension in her body became more and more pronounced. He certainly knew how to make her crazy with anticipation. And after what felt like a strangely long time to her, his finger pressed the cloth of her underwear between her folds as he started rubbing her slowly, making her mewl in pleasure under his hand.

He continued the ministrations for a time, while his teeth nipped at her earlobe again. Then he moved his fingers lower, pressing the fabric lightly inside her, before he started rubbing over her clit through the cloth. She spasmed under him, with a low moan escaping her lips, when a heated jolt ran through her body at the touch.

"Take them off," he growled in her ear before he withdrew his hand again. So frustrating…

She slid her underwear off now much faster than she did her trousers before. She was so eager to continue this… or rather to take this further. She lay back down obediently while the anticipation hummed through her exposed body.

He returned his hand between her legs and he started kissing her neck while he continued to tease her mercilessly. He slid his finger inside her wetness briefly, curling them, before he withdrew again to rub her nub slowly.

She spasmed under him constantly while her whole body burned and thrummed. She wanted him to move his hand faster, harder, but even through the excruciating slowness, the tension in her body kept rising steadily. She was so close. She kept biting her lower lip, arching her back and her hands kept gripping the sheets while she concentrated on the sensations of his fingers playing with her flesh.

Then he stopped.

She opened her eyes abruptly and she gave him a desperate look. She kind of both loved and hated when he did that to her. The need for release was so overwhelming, but when the wait and frustration made it so much better in the end.

He chuckled at her smugly and he planted a gentle kiss on her temple. "Turn over, sweetness," he gave her another wicked smirk, before he pressed his lips on hers briefly again.

She let out a frustrated groan, but she obeyed. After flipping onto the bed to lie on her belly, she turned her head on the side to look at him.

He nodded with a pleased hum as he sat himself up on the bed so that she couldn't see him anymore from her position. The anticipation was killing her. She could only feel him shifting from the movements of the thin mattress and from the occasional warm tickle on her skin whenever he brushed up against her.

After a while, she felt his body slowly lay down on hers while his arms supported him to prevent him from pinning her down completely. He kissed her between the shoulder blades and his lips then traveled up to the nape of her neck while he gently moved her hair away. He bit into the skin of her neck gently before she could feel his warm breath tickle her ear again.

"Anytime you want me to stop, love, tell me," he murmured. He nipped at her ear briefly before he hoisted himself off of her to sit behind her again.

Why would she want him to stop? He wasn't doing anything…

"Aaah!" She yelped loudly when a sharp smack landed on her backside with a burning sting. He kept his hand firmly planted on that spot before he started rubbing over her gently as if he was soothing her from the pain.

Not that she minded it… it was oddly exciting. She kind of wanted him to do that again. He's smacked her like that before in the throes of passion, but this felt much different. The anticipation was twisting tense knots in her stomach and the sting of his palm felt so much more pronounced and deliberate. And this time, there were no other sensations to concentrate on aside from the sharp contact of his hand and the gentle motions that followed. It was an enticing contrast.

"You alright with this, love?" He still rubbed over the sore spot with slow and careful motions as he asked her that question.

"Yes…" she could only gasp in response, eliciting a pleased chuckle from him.

Before she could react, another slap landed on her other asscheek, making her body jerk in response and her breath catch in her throat. Bishop rubbed over the spot again for a while, returning to the odd contrast of tenderness and pain.

Another smack came down on that same spot, after a while, making her cry out. She felt so sensitive and she wasn't sure whether the heat over her body was from his treatment of her or from arousal. While he still kept stroking the sore spot, his other hand suddenly moved between her legs, making Aeyrin spread them for him instinctively and raise her hips a little off the bed. He began teasing her wet entrance slowly, making her gasp and mewl under him before he gave her another sharp slap on her buttocks.

She suspected that he was holding back to an extent. He was definitely much stronger than this, but she wasn't sure if anything more painful would still be that pleasurable. Her whole backside was still stinging and burning from his treatment and her body constantly spasmed again under his relentless teasing. Everything felt so sensitive.

He withdrew his fingers from inside her after a while and he slipped his hand under her belly to raise her body higher so that she rested on her elbows and knees with her bottom raised towards him. He ran that hand towards her inner thighs, nudging them further apart, while his other hand still stroked over her sore cheeks slowly.

"Aaah! Gods!" she cried out when another smack landed on her now exposed inner thigh, so close to her groin that she could feel pinpricks there. It sent another jolt of strange pleasure through her and she desperately wanted to feel him inside already.

Bishop didn't stroke the sore spot this time. Instead, he waited for a while, as if to see whether she would stop him now. But when she didn't, he repeated the process on her other thigh, making her yelp out loudly again. Again, without taking a moment to soothe the spot, his fingers entered her once more, thrusting fast into her and rubbing over her clit occasionally, until he got her unbearably close to the edge again.

He withdrew once more, making her cry out desperately. This was such sweet torture. She wanted him to take her, but at the same time, she didn't want this feeling to end.

Another two smacks landed on her asscheeks, now much faster but milder ones. Or maybe she was just getting a little numb to it. He gave her one sharper smack across the bottom of her backside, after only a second, making her whole body spasm. Her hands gripped the sheets as the soft pinpricks spread everywhere and she let out a desperate whimper. She wasn't sure if she could take more of this without any release. She needed him so badly just then.

Fortunately, Bishop seemed to be in a similar predicament. She felt him fumbling behind her, for a while, before she felt the tip of his hard cock press against her soaking wet entrance. She felt sore all over and all the sensations of her body were much more pronounced.

He drove himself into her and he planted his hands on her heated red asscheeks as he started to thrust into her steadily. He let out strained grunts with each movement while she mewled desperately under him with her whole body quivering. It was clear from the sounds and the intensity of the movements just how much both of them already needed this.

It didn't take long before she cried out as she finally reached her peak after so much frustration. A powerful jolt shot through her core and her walls started to convulse around him wildly. She could barely catch her breath as he kept driving into her with hard and fast movements while she rode out her climax. He certainly took longer than she had expected. He was still slamming into her roughly while her sore body shook and while her nails dug into the sheets.

Finally he came deep inside her with a loud groan and a shudder. His torso slumped down on her only a second later while he still stayed buried in. His hands snaked under her towards her breasts and with his breath puffing heavily on her back, he squeezed them somewhat weakly.

After a long while, he withdrew from her, letting her whole body fall back on the bed limply while her lips turned into a satisfied smile. He laid himself down next to her on his side again and he watched her flushed face while his hand began stroking again gently over her sore backside.

She opened her eyes, only to see him studying her a little questioningly. She knew what he wanted to ask. As if it wasn't obvious that she enjoyed that. She merely nodded at him with a demure smile before he could actually ask, and she leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

She doubted that the nightmares would plague her that night. Her body was so pleasantly exhausted and satiated.

She was pretty sure that she would sleep like a baby.

…

Bishop woke up with a sudden start and he sat up on the bed abruptly.

Cold sweat was covering his forehead and chest while the images slowly escaped his mind. He was sure that he had a nightmare but now, for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was about. He knew it only a second ago! The memories of it were so vivid, but now… it was just gone.

He probably wouldn't want to remember it anyway though, right?

"Ugh… why are you awake? It's the middle of the night," an annoyed groan sounded from right beside him and the form on the old rickety bed right next to his roused morosely. Bishop watched him as he struggled with a thin holey blanket for a while in an attempt to huddle himself back into its tight embrace.

"It's nothing… go back to sleep," Bishop grumbled. His bed creaked under him loudly when he laid himself back down. This place was so decrepit; he was just waiting for the moment when the bed would finally give out from under him.

"I'm trying…" Jules groaned again in frustration. "Who thought it was a good idea to put fucking holes in the walls?!"

"They're called windows," Bishop laughed heartily. Granted, these holes were hardly made for that purpose – the place was just falling apart. But, in general, holes in the walls were not something unusual.

"Not when there's no actual glass and wood in them," Jules grumbled morosely in response.

Bishop only smirked to himself. Sleeping in that ruined tower was hardly ideal for Jules's condition, but it was all they had now. He watched as the young wolf jumped up onto Jules's rickety bed and nuzzled close to his form in order to warm him up. How did Karnwyr always know exactly when Jules needed that?

"Hey… can I ask you something?" The quiet night was interrupted again by the half-Khajiit's voice.

"Would saying 'no' stop you?" Bishop chuckled.

Jules snickered back at him, but it was short-lived. It was obvious that something was weighing heavily on his mind. "Do you think… do you really think that this Mercer guy will be any better? I know that we need to get away from Thorn, but… I don't know…" In the darkness, Bishop could faintly see how Jules ran his hand through the thick mane of dark hair nervously.

Bishop knew exactly what he meant. The Guildmaster was, after all, very willing to cooperate with Thorn closely – that didn't really sound like some savior who was only offering shelter to the tormented bandits. And there were rumors that if anyone pissed Mercer off, he would send them straight to Thorn to 'have his fun' with those who had wronged him.

But how the fuck could this get any worse? Bishop couldn't keep doing this. Every night the images of the terrified faces, the corpses and the mangled bodies haunted his sleep. Jules didn't have to see the scope of Thorn's depravity. If he didn't know any better, at that point, Bishop would consider his brother's condition a blessing – it was sparing him from the 'real work' in Thorn's gang.

He sat up on the bed. He wanted to explain to Jules why he had made this decision for them. He never really talked about his 'work' with anyone, but Jules knew that things were bad. He understood why Bishop wanted out, even though he didn't know the specifics. Or… at least he didn't know them from Bishop. Jules always had his ways though.

The form on the other bed rose as well. The tall figure with overly large muscles sat on the fur blankets and the old wooden bedframe creaked under it loudly. Bishop recognized the man instantly, even in the darkness. His face was haunting his sleep and his waking hours both.

"Not like it's gonna help you, Bishop. You'll be back. Both of you. He always sends them back," Thorn gave him a malicious grin as a lock of his long dirty blond hair fell over his face, stained with blood of whomever he was torturing last.

Bishop's hands gripped the wooden edges of the bed in fury. Just the sight of that man always put him in that state. He instantly felt around the old bed and checked under his pillow for his trusty knife – he always kept it near.

"Looking for something?"

Bishop felt the blade thrust in his back sharply as unbearable pain spread throughout his entire body. Intense heat covered every nerve and every inch of his skin while Mercer chuckled right by his ear, holding the dagger in Bishop's back.

"I know, I know. This is yours. You gave it to me first, remember?" Mercer smirked, but his tone carried palpable hatred and anger. He twisted the knife to accentuate the point, eliciting a scream of pain from Bishop's lips.

Both the men started to laugh while they watched Bishop struggle against his very own hunting knife. He shouldn't have left it out of his sight. He shouldn't have given Frey the opportunity. Why did he give the knife to him in the first place? Didn't he know that he would only get it back later in the same manner? Didn't he know that it wouldn't bring Mercer to his knees? Didn't he know that it would only make him angrier?

He hurled himself away violently, but the blade took out a chunk of his flesh in the process – a piece of him was left there. He should have known. Why would he ever think that he would get out of this whole?

He stumbled forward to get away, but his feet faltered, tripping on the old wood of the tower floors. He fell out of the entrance archway with nothing to hold onto and he tumbled down from the structure into the water below.

He heard Jules's voice echo from behind him as his brother called out for help. He was left there with them. But there was nothing that Bishop could do. He was hurling down without any means to stop it. The plummet down the waterfall felt oddly familiar.

He closed his eyes, expecting the inevitable.

…

He woke up soaked in freezing water and there was something very soft and comfortable under him.

His eyes were closed firmly and he had no idea where he was, but, somehow, he wasn't worried or confused. He was… at ease. Maybe it was because of those gentle hands that kept roaming over his body as the warmth of healing magic spread through his core.

He forced his eyes open and he began watching the slender hands move over his torso. He was covered in deep scratches and slashes, all in very familiar spots – he's had those scars as long as he could remember. They were fresh and bloody now, and they hurt just as much as they used to when he got them, but the hands kept working steadily to remove any trace of them.

"Aeyrin…" he let out a sigh of relief when the pain eased and he clutched one of the comforting hands in his. He needed to hold her.

Before he looked up, her hands left him and he could only catch a glimpse of her light hair as she turned on her heel, away from him. She walked towards a cupboard nearby and she started to play with some small object in her hands.

Bishop finally managed to take note of his surroundings.

This place was so familiar. He knew it. He's seen it. He always planned to return one day. He was supposed to return with Jules, at first, but they never got the chance. Then, when Jules died, he was supposed to take Elisie and the little one here… once they were safe. But then they were gone too. This place was the only thing that still stood, through everything and everyone that he's lost.

It was strangely comforting.

It looked so different. There were still cobwebs and broken furniture there and the wood on the walls was old and moldered. The bed that he was now lying on was surprisingly softened by a mattress, but other than that, the place was just as decrepit as it used to be. But… it was still so different. It was so different when Aeyrin was there with him. He was glad that he took her there. Someday… someday this could be an actual home. For the both of them. Together.

She was still standing by that cupboard, studying the object in her hand. There wasn't a sound to be heard anywhere, only the old wood from the door right next to her creaked loudly. Not that Bishop would complain about being so completely alone with her. She made everything better.

When a glint of something caught his eye, he finally noticed what she held in her hand – a familiar silver ring on a delicate chain. It put a smile on his face instantly.

"Come here, love," he outstretched his hand to beckon her to him.

A muffled noise was his only answer.

Aeyrin turned back around to finally face him. An uncomfortable jolt went through Bishop's entire body when he noticed that half of her face was covered in a black cloth of what could only be a gag, and that her eyes and cheeks were stained with streams of tears.

What happened to her?!

He jumped up from the bed instantly, eager to free her from the cloth and to comfort her. But before he could touch her, the door swung open and a strange pitch-black cloud started to seep inside, filling the room completely.

The only thing that he could still see in the impenetrable darkness was her. He could still help her!

But just as he was about to reach her, large scarred hands gripped her shoulders and yanked her away from him into the deep darkness around them. The ring fell from her hand. Bishop could hear the soft clanking sound of its impact, but he couldn't see it anywhere. He couldn't see anything anymore.

The hands did not stop to drag her away. He heard the muffled scream get further and further, but at least it was something to follow, some hint of where she was.

He needed to save her!

He ran after her as fast as his feet could carry him. He could have sworn that her voice called out to him over and over, but he still couldn't see a thing. The voice came from afar, then from another direction completely. He didn't know where to go anymore, it was echoing around constantly, as if she were in several places at once. There were so many of them, so many who kept dragging her away from him, who tried to take her, to hurt her, to use her. He didn't know where to go first and the voices got steadily quieter and quieter as he kept running in different directions.

Until the silence made it clear.

He lost her.

Panic rose inside him and a terrifying desperation crept up on him from every inch of the darkness that touched his skin. If only he could see through it, if only he could see the light somewhere. He blinked rapidly. He had to somehow make himself see. He couldn't find her like this! He needed to know where he was. Then he could find her!

He closed his eyes firmly and he waited. This would work. It had to.

When he opened them again, he could finally see. He could tell where he was now when he could see, couldn't he?

The tall trees of Falkreath forests spread all around him into the distance. There was no end to them and each one was exactly identical to the other.

How was he supposed to find anything here?

"Need any help? I can find anyone!" a sultry voice rang behind him just as someone tapped on his shoulder. The tap was brief, but the familiar hand didn't stop touching him. The palm pressed against his shoulder briefly before it moved down onto his bicep, clutching it firmly in a somewhat teasing gesture.

"Leave me alone, flea!" Bishop snapped almost automatically and he shook the hand off himself violently. The touch made him sick to his stomach.

No response…

Strange. She was usually much more persistent.

A second later, a disturbing gurgle echoed in his ear instead and he jerked back to look at the source.

Neeshka was standing there stiffly. Her eyes were upturned so much that he could barely see the pupil and her mouth was hanging open, filled with blood. There was a deep bloody gash right over her throat.

'I can't believe you're doing this to me! I can't believe you're doing this to me!'

It was a strange echo in the air, but Bishop recognized it instantly. Lydia's voice was so loud like this when it bounced from tree to tree, assaulting all his senses and drowning out everything else. He didn't want to hear this. He had bigger problems now!

He crouched down helplessly and he placed his hands over his ears in desperation, trying to silence the voice. Why was she still so loud? There was nothing he could do to quiet it down. There was nothing he could do to make it better.

Maybe she would stop on her own. Maybe she wanted to forget those words just as much as he did.

Finally it was fading, from a constant cry into a faint whisper. Bishop slowly let his hands fall from his ears and he began listening to the serene rustle of the trees. The silence was comfortable. He could pretend that he was somewhere far from here when he closed his eyes and only listened to the forest. He stayed crouched down for a while yet.

He was so small like that. It was a strangely vulnerable and familiar feeling

Suddenly, a heavy boot lodged under his chin and pushed against his collar to topple him backwards onto the ground violently.

His breath left him as the tip of the boot pressed firmly against throat, choking him.

His eyes snapped open again, only to see the disturbing sneer of Torban leering down at him. He should have known. He knew that feeling all too well, no matter how much he tried to forget it. Torban would always be back.

Dead or alive, it didn't matter. He was always there, haunting him.

Bishop flailed his arms and legs, trying to free himself, but his body was getting weaker and weaker by the second. He was running out of air and the pressure on his throat got only worse. His limbs were getting numb. He couldn't move them anymore.

All he could do was to stare at that face.

At those amber eyes and the long chestnut hair that was falling over his broad muscular shoulders.

Wait… the hair wasn't long anymore… he looked… different now.

The sneering face staring back at him was no longer his father's.

It was his.

* Kink warning: edging, spanking