Chapter CXXIII – The City of Stone

The heavy gate made out of the familiar gold-bronze Dwemer metal shut behind them and the city was finally spread before their eyes.

"Divines, this is amazing!"

Aeyrin exclaimed as her eyes roamed over the breathtaking sights. The Dwemer structures set inside the majestic mountain, the waterfalls lining the large keep with a roof gilded by dwarven metal and the temple perching above the city like a watchful guardian of the Gods. It was all so majestic.

Bishop only chuckled at her mesmerized expression. He loved the way she looked when she got this ecstatic about the places they've visited. It always reminded him of when they first started travelling together, of how he wanted to show her all the beauty of Skyrim. Lately it felt like there was none to be found. There was constant danger and fear, constant trepidation about what would go wrong, who would be after them, what would ruin what they had. He missed how care-free those days felt.

Aeyrin interrupted his wistful reminiscing when she turned back to him with a wry smile on her lips. She quickly snuck into his arms and embraced him tightly in a somewhat surprising gesture, given the fact that they were just standing there by the gates near the busy markets. It wasn't as if he minded in the slightest though, and he could still see that rather uneasy relief on her face occasionally after all the revelations from Esbern. She sorely needed to concentrate on anything else.

"Nobody here knows who I am, right? Please, tell me that nobody knows who I am," she let out a little exasperated chuckle. It's been so long since she's been anywhere where people didn't recognize her, where people didn't stare at her or demand things of her. It was almost an unbelievable notion after all that time.

"Nobody knows who you are, love," Bishop chuckled in turn and he squeezed her tighter to himself. It was a refreshing feeling. If a damn dragon attacked nearby, nobody would even think of running to her for help.

She gave him a gentle peck on his cheek before she disentangled herself from his embrace and darted straight towards the markets by the gates to eagerly look over the displayed goods.

They roamed around the stalls for a while without really buying anything, just looking over the selection. Everything seemed rather meager after seeing the markets in Solitude though. They had gathered a fair amount of funds again, and since the enchantments on their weapons weren't nearly as expensive as they had originally anticipated, they had a lot more spending money left.

They still needed supplies for the road, as well as some items for Bishop's mission. He insisted on buying those from a fence – it was way more expensive, but there would be no tracing him to the heist this way. If he bought invisibility potions in the apothecary and someone figured out there was an intruder in the laboratory, he would be the first obvious suspect.

After a while of walking around aimlessly around the markets, Aeyrin pulled out her journal to see what supplies they still needed. Then they could go exploring the city in earnest. It looked amazing and she couldn't wait to get up to the temple and see it all from that vantage point.

"So, we need more rations and more pegs. And healing potions and I need… other stuff… at the apothecary," she mumbled halfheartedly as she continued peering at the list while Bishop led her towards one of the shops by the market.

They made a quick stop there at the pawnbroker's, before they started roaming through the rather confusing streets towards the apothecary at the other end of the city.

Bishop noticed that Aeyrin's eyes darted to the perching temple all too often. He didn't doubt for a second that she'd want to visit it later. He's heard the rumors around Markarth before. Everyone has. And he was dying to know the truth about that place.

"So… you've been to one of these before, right?" he inclined his head towards the temple while his eyes narrowed in strangely suspicious contemplation.

"A… temple? Yeah… once or twice," Aeyrin snorted in response with a shake of her head. What in the Void was he on about? Did he hit his head over one of the rocks around the narrow streets or something?

"Not 'a' temple! A temple of Dibella. You've been to all the temples, right? So you must have been to one of those," he was almost talking to himself while that odd frown still continued to be etched on his face.

"Yeah… there's one in Anvil. I've been there. Uhh… why?" she raised her brow at him. What was he getting at?

"Yeah? So… what exactly is it that goes on there? More special 'healing techniques'?" Bishop scoffed a little. He looked a little sour as he said that. What in the Gods' names was he talking about? And since when did he care about what happened in the temples?

"What? What do you mean? Temple stuff goes on in there. You know, the whole, praying, preaching, healing thing that I'm pretty sure I've talked about a thousand times already. What are you even asking?"

"Huh… so… it's a normal temple? Nothing… weird going on?" He turned his eyes towards the temple atop the cliff once again.

"What? 'Weird'?" Aeyrin shook her head at him in confusion before she sighed exasperatedly. "Why are you being weird? What do you think goes on in there?"

"No one knows! That's what's weird. All the priestesses are women. People say that there's some sanctum or whatever where only women are allowed for some 'initiations'. It's got to be some weird sex stuff! Why else would priests be this secretive? They've got the vows, right?"

Aeyrin stared at him for a while, uncertain of how to react. After some time, she snorted and she chuckled at him with an amused shake of her head.

"Why do you have an obsession about priests misbehaving? Besides, the chapters dedicated to Dibella often waive the celibacy vow. The orders devoted to Mara do that too. And some Dibellan cults are just… exclusive to women. I don't know why, to be honest. But… chances are, they're just… meditating in that 'secret sanctum'. And even if they hold some 'secret ceremonial orgies' in there, they're likely allowed to," she smirked at him. He always got weirdly suspicious about what the priests got up to. It was so strange. Maybe it was because of his mother. She remembered him mentioning her warped ideas on Maran worship before, it likely made him suspicious.

She got the urge to tell him all about her insightful analysis of his mistrust, but she thought better of it. He would likely not appreciate that kind of observation.

"That's… so boring. No wonder you left," Bishop snickered. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. The rumors and speculations about the Temple of Dibella have been the talk of the drunks of Markarth ever since he could remember. Everyone was so convinced that they were doing something forbidden or sinister in there. There was even a rumor about the secret magical rituals that made the Dibellan priestesses so irresistible to people that they were actually slowly and subtly subjugating the entire town into their mindless slaves. But Aeyrin's words just assured Bishop that the temples weren't worth visiting, aside from the need for healing.

After Bishop's years of curiosity had been resolved with a less than satisfying confirmation, the two of them explored the city some more, after that disappointing discussion. They spent some time climbing the various steps and browsing some stores, before they finally entered the apothecary at the other side of the city.

Aeyrin instantly spotted two women discussing something in hushed tones in the corner of the store. They were both Bretons, both dressed in clothes that looked like they were stitched from random rags, with their hair styled into elaborate chaotic creations with myriads of braids, feathers and beads decorating them. Both of them had war paint on their faces – the older woman's face was almost entirely covered with it, while the younger one had only an elegant green line drawn under her eyes and across the bridge of her nose.

They must have really stood out in the city.

"Are those…?" Aeyrin whispered to Bishop. Luckily, the women haven't noticed them by the door yet.

"Forsworn. Yeah. Or… not anymore I guess," Bishop shrugged in response.

He never mentioned to her that the Forsworn were living in the city. Did they abandon the cause and acclimate under the Nord's rule? Aeyrin would have thought that the Nords wouldn't allow them inside their walls in fear of spies. Then again, maybe the Forsworn didn't really send out spies. She still wasn't clear on how they were attempting to take the Reach back.

"Are you here to gawk or are you here to shop?" the older woman exclaimed suddenly without even sparing a second to look at them. Then she continued her conversation with the younger one, only a second later, as if she had never noticed them there in the first place.

With not much else to do in that situation, Bishop and Aeyrin approached the counter, but the woman still didn't assist them. She only continued speaking in a barely hushed voice to the young girl by her side. She was seemingly trying to whisper to her, but it looked like she was too frustrated with her to keep her voice low. "How many times do I have to repeat this, girl? The spider tongue is pickled! Not boiled! If you mess up again, you'll start testing each poison you make yourself!"

"Bothela, we have customers!" the young woman chastised her, but it was obvious that she only wanted her to stop scolding her already.

"They'll wait! Not like they can go anywhere else," the woman cackled briefly, but she still walked towards the counter and turned to the two of them expectantly. Aeyrin tried to say something, but she did not manage to do that before the old Forsworn yelled at the young one again with her brows creased: "And stop moping! It won't change what you did. And you'll scare the customers with your sour face."

"You know, the pawnbroker's got potions," Bishop smirked at the woman while folding his arms across his chest.

"They're watered down. Now… do you want my mixtures or do you want to gawk some more?" the woman named Bothela turned her eyes to Aeyrin sharply.

Gods, she didn't even realize that she's been staring at the woman's war paint the entire time. It was all over her face, sharp and black. And the lines traveled down her neck into the strange robe that she was wearing. Were they all over her body?

"S-sorry…" Aeyrin gave the alchemist a timid look. The woman was kind of intimidating. Aeyrin got the urge to ask her about the Forsworn so that she could tell her more of their fight against the Nords, but since the woman was in Markarth, it may have been a sore subject. And Aeyrin definitely didn't want to make her upset.

"We need ten healing potions, medium strength. And… umm… some canis root tincture." Why was she still embarrassed about asking for the tincture? Maybe it was because she could have sworn that every alchemist gave her a knowing suggestive look when she did. But… maybe she was just imagining it.

"That's ineffective," Bothela stated somewhat matter-of-factly before she turned around to pick up the healing potions off the shelf.

"What?" Aeyrin tilted her head in confusion.

"The canis root tincture. It's ineffective. You think that you can trick nature with a potion?" the alchemist scoffed with a mean smirk plastered on her face as she handed Aeyrin the potions. She didn't even bother to search for the tincture while she continued looking at her expectantly.

What did she mean, 'ineffective'? It certainly worked so far.

"Bullshit. It's been used for ages, just give us the tincture," Bishop scowled at her, but he looked kind of disturbed by her words. Not that Aeyrin blamed him. They were kind of disturbing.

She knew that sometimes the contraceptives that she used to prepare back in Chorrol proved… 'ineffective', but that was only very rare. She always expected that it was the same with the tincture. Otherwise why wouldn't the Nords just use something imported if their own methods didn't work as well?

"Your choice. But… if you want my advice, instead, every three days consume ten boiled sabre cat eyes and a raw giant's toe. That's tried and true," Bothela nodded at her with a very convincingly learned expression on her face.

What?! That sounded horrible! How was anyone supposed to stomach that?

"Stop it, Bothela! Ugh… you should have let them turn you into a hagraven, it seems to suit you better," the young woman approached the counter while she shook her head at the alchemist in admonishment. "She's just pulling your leg. The tincture's just as effective as anything. Nothing's ever infallible."

Bishop let out an annoyed groan and Aeyrin subconsciously studied the old woman again. 'Turn into a hagraven'? Bishop had mentioned before that they used to be people… but… Aeyrin has never really thought about it in detail. Was it something that the Forsworn did to their women? Or men too? She wasn't sure if there were male ones but she assumed that there weren't, just from the name alone.

The Forsworn were really starting to sound much more… barbaric than she liked to imagine.

Bothela placed several bottles of the tincture on the counter with a mean smirk and Aeyrin stashed them hurriedly into her pack. She was all too eager to get away from that shop. She was now even more uncomfortable in front of that woman. She couldn't stop imagining how she would turn into one of those… things.

After the alchemist told her the price for their purchase, Aeyrin paid her hurriedly and she quickly rushed away from the store with Bishop at her heel. And the minute they were out the door, she turned to him with a disturbed expression on her face.

"Are the Forsworn really… turning people into… that?" she cringed in disgust.

"The hagravens? I don't know. Those things are often surrounded by witch covens but sometimes they live in Forsworn camps, if the rumors are true. I never really stuck around one long enough to find out," he scoffed. "I don't know who turns them and why. And I'm not really eager to find out."

Aeyrin nodded thoughtfully. It might be better to forget her initial fascination with the Forsworn. It seemed like there was only disappointment down that road. First the tribe attacking them after they helped with the dragon and now this… insinuation.

"So… the inn?" Bishop interrupted her ruminations with a somewhat eager wink.

"Not yet. I was actually hoping for some new armor, with all the Dwemer metal around. It must be cheaper here," Aeyrin pondered. She was due for a new armor in any case. The straps were already worn and there was still that dent in her plate from the Dwemer ruin that they had explored. Not to mention all that damage after all those Shouting experiments on her legs during the fight with that dragon with the venomous Shout. And her weapon and shield weren't in the best condition anymore either.

Bishop groaned before he gave her a pointedly annoyed look. "Are you telling me that you'll be spending the whole day at the forge again?"

"You can get your supplies from the fence in the meantime. And see Karliah's contact," she gave him an innocent smile before she snuck a little closer to him to gently pat his cheek. She needed to get him away in any case. She had plans to get him some new equipment too, but whenever she mentioned his old armor, patched up a hundred times over and falling apart at the seams, he just grumbled that it was fine and that he could fix it.

"Fine… I guess. But maybe let the smith help you this time so we can do something actually fun instead of hanging around forges," Bishop rolled his eyes at her, but he still gave her a brief affectionate kiss before he started ushering her through the streets again, straight towards the smithy.

…

Aeyrin looked over the thin piece of gold-bronze plate critically, leaning it from side to side.

Good. The light didn't reflect from it even a little. She needed to keep the armor subtle and as disguising as possible for Bishop.

She was already done with her equipment, with the help of the Orc blacksmith. That woman could work the Dwemer metal like magic.

They made the plates for Aeyrin's armor together, splitting the work between the two of them. Now the Orc was working on her new underchain, made from pale quicksilver, with meticulous efficiency, while Aeyrin concentrated on the new surprise armor for Bishop. She made several thin plates, only enough to protect him while still not restricting his movement. If she kept the plate thin, it was very light, and it would be encrusted by black leather for the most part, both at the inside of the armor and out. There would only be thin strips of the metal visible on the armor, just enough to hold the leather indented into the plate.

"You sure that this will keep?" she held up the thin plate to the sun, checking the refractions again.

"You'd have to polish it like no tomorrow to get any shine from that," the Orc chuckled. She had given Aeyrin some coating for the plate before to keep it dull and a little darkened. This way Bishop could still hide in shadows with no trouble and he'd be protected by something more than thin worn leather.

Aeyrin really hoped that he'd like it. He may have been wearing that armor of his for some sentimental value, but if he was going to be wearing it any longer, there would be no armor left at all soon enough.

"What would you think of dark chainmail for the flanks, ma'am? It wouldn't restrict the movement like you asked, but it would be another additional protection," the young apprentice peered at Aeyrin excitedly. The Orc proclaimed that he was 'better than her' at tanning work and, ever since then, he couldn't stop beaming and fussing over Aeyrin's commission, clearly caught up in the compliment.

"Sure. That sounds great. Just… keep it dark," Aeyrin reminded him. The last thing that Bishop needed was a glittering chain to catch everyone's attention anytime he drew his bow. That was what her light, almost white, underchain was for – to draw the enemies to her. The Dwemer plates on it would hopefully only accentuate that.

Once she was finally done with the thin plates and after she handed them to the apprentice, she focused on finishing her new mace and shield. She was a little hesitant about replacing her enchanted weapon, but after getting a price estimate from the Orc, she found out that she'd probably have enough money to have the new one enchanted too. Besides, it would be a great way to distract the court wizard while Bishop explored the laboratory.

He did stop by the forge after he had already visited the fence, but she barely even started with her own armor back then – she would be busy for hours yet. So he just headed to the tavern to meet the contact and wait for her with palpable resignation in his steps.

In the end, even with the help of the blacksmith and her apprentice, it was going to take hours.

But the results would definitely be worth it.

…

"Finally!" Bishop tried to look annoyed, but his lips quirked up a bit when she appeared by his table at the inn. She immediately sat down heavily and she slumped the heavy stuffed pack onto the ground. Her back was killing her from it.

"Sorry. It took a little longer than I thought," she chuckled before she leaned over to give him a brief kiss in greeting. "What about you? How did it go with the contact?"

"Good. Karliah's… impressively informed. I shouldn't have any trouble," he gave her a smug smirk before continuing. "I'll be going by day. He'd be most likely at the court then. But… first you need to convince him to give you access to his… museum."

"'Museum'?" Aeyrin tilted her head to the side before she realized what he had said. "Wait I need to convince him? What are you talking about?"

"I'll explain later," Bishop gestured subtly to the other patrons at the tavern. He was obviously not eager to discuss the plans for his heist so publically, just in case. "Don't worry about it, love. I have it all planned. All you'll need to do is bat your eyes at him and fawn about how interested you are in Dwemer culture. You'll be good at that," he smirked at her. Her genuine enthusiasm about this sort of shit could melt anyone's heart.

She gave him a skeptical look, but he only smirked again before he pulled his chair closer to her and squeezed her around her waist reassuringly. "Everything's gonna go smoothly, princess."

Unlike the last time. She couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking that. She still felt like he was at least a little angry with her about what happened at Fort Fellhammer.

She merely nodded silently in response. She really hoped that Bishop was being overly concerned over Mercer's wrath, but… he probably knew better. She still felt so guilty about what had happened back then.

"Order us some food? I'll go wash up until it's ready," she gave him a wry smile. The strange tension that she suddenly felt between them was making her uncomfortable. Maybe she was imagining it. He said that he wasn't angry. But every time she thought about that incident, she could feel it.

Bishop squeezed her closer before she could get up, capturing her lips briefly. He couldn't help but feel a little giddy about tomorrow. Karliah's preparedness was more and more reassuring to him. If all the operations went according to her plans, he had no doubt that Mercer would be taken care of very soon.

Now Bishop had detailed plans of the laboratory as well as the wizard's and his apprentice's usual daily schedule. He had a good plan to get in and he had the perfect plan to get out quickly. No one would know that he was ever there.

There was nothing to worry about.

…

"You have got to be kidding me…" Aeyrin stared at the furnishings of their room incredulously.

Stone slabs for beds? Really? Why would people sleep like that? There was just a pillow and a fur blanket folded atop it. Did the patrons really sleep like that?

"Yeah. There's a guy at the market who sells bedrolls to all the travelers staying here. I'm pretty sure that he's got a mansion somewhere by now from the fortune he's made," Bishop snickered as he slung his pack from his shoulder and unfastened the bedroll from the bottom of it. Then he promptly spread out the bedroll onto the stone slab, placing the pillow and the blanket on top of it.

When he was done, he sat down on the bed and he took Aeyrin's hands in his in the process, ushering her closer to stand between his knees. He quickly pulled her into an embrace with one hand over her lower back, the other over her backside and he nuzzled his head to her stomach, kissing her there over the fabric of her shirt and teasingly nipping with his teeth at the hem of her trousers.

Aeyrin started to stroke through his hair in return as a pleased sigh escaped her lips at his eager touches. His hands moved to play with the hem of her trousers adamantly and his kisses began traveling down her stomach, lower. The fabric of her tunic was already crumpled enough to allow him access to her bare skin, but before he could continue to actually get rid of her trousers at least, she gently disentangled his hands from herself and pulled back.

"I've got you something," she winked at him slyly before she turned around to find her pack, which was almost bursting at the seams with all the equipment stuffed haphazardly inside. At least Bishop's new armor and her underchain were somewhat compact, but the three pairs of boots and the plates were really putting a strain on it. They'd better head back to Whiterun after this so that she could unload her old armor there.

She sat on the ground and started to pull some of the stuff out so that she would actually be able to find what she was looking for.

She pulled out the new armor for Bishop a bit bashfully before she splayed it in her hands to show him the chest-piece. It was lithe and black, just like his current one, only with dull thin Dwemer strips across the front and back, hinting at the plate hiding beneath, and the dull ebony chainmail decorating the flanks. In the end, his armor was the most expensive, due to the work put into it, but she got a discount for helping out with the crafting. Besides, Bishop's armor didn't get worn as quickly as hers anyway, since he stayed out of the front lines for the most part. It was definitely a worthwhile investment.

Bishop's brows shot up in surprise and he quickly got up from the bed to take the chest-piece from her and study it critically. He frowned as he peered more closely at the visible thin strips of plate and he started tilting them a little in the candlelight to see if they glinted at all. Thank the Gods that she thought of that potential issue before.

"I know you like your old one, but it's really falling apart already and…" Aeyrin bit her lower lip nervously as she tried to justify her reasoning, but Bishop interrupted her promptly with an affectionate smile.

"I love it, sweetness. This is some damn good quality! Did you make it?" he gave her a look which was a little dubious before he turned his eyes back to the armor a second later and pinched the layer of leather between his fingers, testing it.

"No," she chuckled lightly. "I only made the plates inside. Maybe the next time you accidentally trigger a trap, you'll be actually able to move after," she smirked a little mischievously at him before she pulled out the thick leather trousers, as well as the boots and gloves, all fitted with some plates and chainmail at several places too to maximize the protection and efficiency of the whole armor set.

Instead of examining the rest of the pieces, however, Bishop bent down to give her a deep grateful kiss. His hand snuck around the back of her neck in an attempt to prolong it, but she pulled away from him again after only a short while.

"Not done yet," she grinned at him and she returned her hands to rummage in her pack again.

After a while, she pulled out a neatly folded hickory-colored linen shirt and thinner black leather trousers to replace his regular clothes. It fit nicely with the new armor. And his hair and his eyes, but she shouldn't mention that to him. He was made into enough of a personal dress-up doll for her already, she really didn't need to go into the thought processes behind it with him.

"You did promise me once that I could ruin your clothes. But I figured you might need new ones after that," she giggled at him, blushing slightly. She did want to do that for a long time now, but he only had extra clothes stashed in Whiterun and she kind of forgot all about these plans while they were there.

Bishop let out an unbridled merry laugh before he leaned down again to her for another eager kiss. He withdrew, after a while, and he outstretched his hand to her to hoist her up on her feet. But instead of letting her stand up properly, he yanked her into his embrace when she took his hand and he gave her an excited smirk. "Bring it on, princess."

She leaned to kiss him instantly and her hands folded against his chest to push him back towards the bed. She stopped only when the backs of his calves hit the cold stone of the slab, but their frantic kiss never broke apart as their tongues kept entwining eagerly, exploring each other.

Then, Aeyrin suddenly gripped the fabric of his black tunic at his collar as she moved her kisses down over his scratchy jaw, reveling in the sensation for a while, before she moved her lips down to his neck, then to his collarbones.

Her cheek brushed against the doomed tunic for a while. It was so soft. The linen was already thinned considerably after so much use and washing. It was a shame to ruin it.

Dammit! She was feeling attached even to his clothes now. This was ridiculous.

But maybe she could keep the shirt… she could sleep in it at those rare times when she didn't fall asleep naked in Bishop's embrace. And it smelled like him.

Her grip on the hem eased when she made up her mind and Bishop threw her a questioning look.

Her hands dropped down to grab the tunic by the bottom hems and she draped it over his head quickly before she bundled it up in her palms. She threw it at the bed instantly, eliciting a rather mocking laugh from Bishop. "I doubt that you 'ruined' it by doing that!"

Don't tell him you got sentimental over his shirt!

"I'm keeping it. It's my trophy," she grinned at him and she returned her head to nuzzle his neck instantly while biting lightly into his flesh.

All of the sudden, he pushed her away with an intense look in his eyes and he instantly dug his fingers beneath her shirt to yank it off her roughly. He grabbed her, pinning her to his chest with a one more long passionate kiss before her moved his mouth to her ear to let out a low and somewhat possessive growl: "Put it on."

His grip on her eased and she reached out for the shirt bundled on the bed. She draped it over her head and watched it sag on her small frame with a rather critical frown. Bishop quickly moved his hands to undo the strings at the collar, which was more above her breasts than below her neck on her frame. He yanked the undone hem a little apart, revealing her cleavage, and he dipped his head down while his hands squeezed her breasts together over the fabric, nipping and licking at the revealed parts of her breasts.

She giggled a bit at his enthusiasm as she returned her hands to his trousers, exploring the side seams with her fingers and pulling at the thick threads holding them together. She was wondering if she should yank them off of him, like he did to her once, but she preferred this – teasing him with slow progress.

After a while of frantic exchanges, she pushed him suddenly, catching him off guard and making him trip over the stone slab behind him and fall back onto the bed. The groan from the impact was drowned out by his laughter and he lifted himself up to rest on his elbows, watching her hungrily.

She was still fully clothed, since her shirt was replaced by his tunic, but she bent down to undo her boots momentarily before pulling off her trousers and undergarments right after. Then she approached closer to stand between his legs again while the black tunic reached all the way down to her upper thighs, covering her tantalizingly.

Bishop moved one of his hands over the lower hem of the tunic where he played with it for a while, before he reached below the fabric to run his fingers over her slit teasingly. She gasped at the contact and she instinctively moved as close to him as possible with her legs spread a bit to give him access and her hands back on his trousers, absentmindedly pulling at the already somewhat loosened threads on the sides.

Her ministrations on those threads stopped instantly when one of his fingers entered her and his thumb began rubbing against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her entire body. She tried to compose herself again, doing her best to ignore his probing digits and hooking her hands under the hem of his trousers. She was really determined to, at least, ruin one piece of his clothing.

She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips when he inserted another finger into her and began thrusting them and moving them inside tantalizingly slowly. She tried to tear at his clothes, but her hands felt much weaker than they should while his movements were getting faster and more intense. His thumb was rubbing over her nub frantically now, making her gasp and moan with every jolt and every quiver.

She arched her back and her hands gripped at the fabric of his pants in a strained clutch. He was thrusting three fingers into her and his movements continued alternating between fast and rough and slower and frustrating. She couldn't hold out her release much longer as she kept pressing herself against his hand desperately. And in the end, when the knot in her belly tightened unbearably, she had to bite down on her lower lip sharply to prevent the loud cry of pleasure from escaping her lips.

After a while, when she finally managed to control her heavy breathing and Bishop's rather smug smile turned into a hungry look again, she managed to recompose herself and return to her original goal. She started pulling at the meticulously unraveled trousers once more, even though her arms felt a little weak, and she continued yanking the fabric apart.

Bishop let out an amused laugh when she ripped the front side of his clothes open at last. She dropped to her knees instantly and she didn't wait any longer to take hold of his cock and run her tongue along its length tantalizingly.

She pressed her tongue against the tip firmly before she took it into her mouth and began sucking in gently. Bishop let out a satisfied groan as she slid him further in. She began moving in and out eagerly while her tongue never stopped its movements, pressing against him firmly and teasing him as much as she could. Bishop ran his hands through her hair and stroked over her cheeks, but the strain in his touch was all too palpable while loud groans continued to escape his lips. She slowly took him even further in – now she was somewhat used to the sensations already. She felt him move down to her throat and her muscles there contracted around him instinctively before she managed to engulf him fully at last.

She continued to make fast bobs against his hard cock while her throat contracted periodically with constant hums forming at the back of it, vibrating against him. He only continued to moan loudly, while his cock throbbed and twitched in her mouth, and his grip on her hair was now far from gentle. She continued the pace mercilessly, letting her teeth occasionally graze very lightly over his sensitive skin, making his whole body jerk each time. But he was already taking a little longer than she had anticipated – her breathing was getting very ragged and strained.

After a few moments of that treatment, she could finally feel him get close. One of her hands ran over his thigh in a firm grip while the other grabbed his own to force him to release her hair. He probably wasn't capable of much thought at that point and he went with the gestures mindlessly. When she managed to disentangle his hand from her hair, she went only for a couple more deep thrusts before her head withdrew from him completely.

"Ahh, fuck! Don't stop! Please don't stop, sweetness," he moaned in frustration when she didn't return to her ministrations. How did he not see this coming when she yanked his hands from her hair? She only let out a mischievous chuckle before she quickly climbed up on the bed to straddle his hips and rub her wet entrance against the tip of his cock. He tried to thrust into her instantly, but she moved a bit out of the way. First, she wanted to tease him a little more.

She leaned down to press her face close to his ear and her fingers dug eagerly into his firm pecs.

"Say it," she whispered. Her face flushed even more than it already was as she let out a teasing giggle.

He laughed in between his frustrated groans. He definitely didn't have as much trouble saying this as she did.

"Fuck me, love!" he exclaimed with heavy breaths, still chuckling between the strained breaths.

She sank down on him, letting his hard cock enter her in a smooth fast motion as he thrusted up into her instantly. They didn't wait before they started to move against each other frantically and desperately. As fun as it was to give him a taste of his own poison, she was rather eager for another release herself. She wished she could have enough self-control to tease him for as long as he usually teased her, but then again, this was satisfying too, in a whole another way.

Bishop pushed himself off his elbows suddenly and he sat up on the bed. One of his arms promptly wrapped around her back while the other snuck into his own tunic on her body from below in order to start squeezing her breast hungrily.

They shared a deep passionate kiss while they still moved in frantic motions and bounces. Their strained breaths mixed with each other, refusing to calm even for a second.

It only took a few more thrusts before she felt him come inside her as the warmth spread through her core pleasantly. His hand moved to her slit in an instant and his fingers began rubbing over her clit once more in fast movements while his cock was still buried inside her.

She felt another jolt of electricity overpower her and her walls clenched his cock desperately. Her nails subconsciously raked across his pecs, leaving several bright red marks behind.

Bishop immediately bit into her neck with a pleasured groan and he started sucking on it eagerly while their bodies slowly relaxed. They slumped against each other in an exhausted embrace and, eventually, they ended up splayed down on their bedroll in a confusing tangle of bodies and limbs.

Bishop barely even registered the fact that his boots were still on and that the remnant fabric of his trousers were still hanging from them. He only collected her into his arms and pressed her into his embrace lovingly. He stroked through her hair gently for a while before he took a strand of it in his hand and started running his fingers through its length. Her hair has gotten so long over the course of their travels. Was it really not even a year?

He kissed her forehead tenderly.

He loved being reminded how long they've been together like this, how long it seemed at times. How long he's felt this way, how long he's felt… actually happy.

In moments like these, he couldn't even remember his life before.

He couldn't even remember that there was ever a time when he didn't know her.

When he didn't love her.