By the time we set out on the road, I had gotten myself under control. In the meantime, I tied my dark hair up behind my head with a leather strip and continued to follow Bishop. "Do you have any idea where you're going?" I looked around at the jagged rocks surrounding us.

"Of course I do," he retorted, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "Ivarstead. There's an easy pass through the mountains." The ranger gave a small sigh. "Do you know anything about Skyrim, princess?" I scowled at the use of the epithet but didn't quite want a repeat of Riverwood's events.

"Of course I do." I didn't elaborate and searched for a topic that would pass the time and take the focus off me." All right, Bishop. So... What's your story in Skyrim? What made you become a ranger?" I slammed into Bishop and realized he'd abruptly stopped on the path.

"That, milady, is none of your business." His voice was low, barely more than a growl. "I'd appreciate it if you'd avoid that sort of topic entirely." I bit my lip, cursing myself. My attempt to lighten the mood had fallen flat entirely and made my new companion angry. "Try again."

"Well... how about that knife of yours? Is it even sharp? Where did you get it?" A bit of tension leaked out of the ranger's shoulders, and he unsheathed the iron dagger while continuing to walk.

"This dear here is a token I took from a bandit back in the day. I was seven, barely knew how to use a bow. Some bandits attacked my village, and... well, we fought them off." Sunlight glinted off the iron as he held it. "I took this from one of the corpses and killed the last bandit that thought I was just a lad unable to make a quick decision." Bishop slowed down before craning his head backward. His golden eyes shone. "Oh, and believe me, darling, this dear cuts deeper than my words... and probably whatever those are."

I frowned. "Want to feel them against your throat?" He managed to aggravate me further when he laughed at me.

"What are they? Never seen swords like those."

"That's because they're Cyrodilian, not Skyrim-fashioned." I drew one of the blades and sped up a bit to walk beside him. "They're both silver shortswords. I got them from a traveling merchant not too long ago. What, do you not have them in Skyrim?"

Bishop gingerly took the blade from me and scrutinized it before returning it. "No, we don't use shortswords, ladyship. Silver weapons, yes. But not those."

"I prefer them to longswords. Easier to handle, quicker, but still long enough for what I need them for." The ranger was quiet, and I glanced at him querulously. A sigh escaped my lips as I rolled my eyes. He'd been staring with an amused smile and raised brow. "Gods above..."

...

Two days after we'd set out, I was still curious about Bishop. He was closed-off and rude, but damn if he wasn't one of the craftiest men I'd ever met. He was more than able to track down a meal even in the barren rocky land where it seemed nothing could live. Traps were set with swift fingers in under a minute. If an attack came our way, either by a wild animal or hostile would-be bandit, he was able to kill them quickly with nothing but his bow. I had joined up with several mercenaries in the past, both as a pair and in a group. None of them had the sheer power and confidence that surrounded the ranger.

Of course, there was also the matter of the constant flirtations coming from him. But those were a different story. After all, I was certain he was only taunting. He seemed the type to do so, and he hadn't stopped with the demeaning pet names.

"Hey princess, get your head out of the clouds. There's game ahead." I snapped back to reality as Bishop spoke. He pointed into the distance.

I frowned. "I can't see anything," I confessed. Bishop shrugged and continued to trot along the path.

"Doesn't surprise me." I couldn't decide whether or not to be offended. "Come on." I nodded and picked up the pace, both of us keeping a steady jog. Our path became very monotonous, just a dirt path and rocks all around to be seen... which was why I was more than a little startled when Bishop halted abruptly and let an arrow loose. I'd barely managed to stop and avoid slamming into the ranger, but it didn't seem like Bishop noticed. His gait slowed as he followed the path his arrow had taken, eventually coming upon a dead goat with the bolt sticking out from its eye.

I watched as Bishop pulled out his knife and turned the animal over before beginning to skin it, his movements expert and instinctive. He seemed bored with the motions despite their mechanical perfection. It occurred to me that he didn't often smile unless it was through our banter, and I got the feeling it wasn't a genuine smile then either. I'd briefly wondered what could possibly interest him before Bishop paused and looked my way.

"If you're gonna stare, you might as well learn."

"What?"

"Why don't you clean that cotton out of your ears, ladyship, and get over here." I disliked his brash comment but padded over all the same and knelt on the other side of the goat. "You don't know how to skin an animal, do you?" I didn't respond. "Thought not. You should learn, especially since you fancy yourself a warrior."

I shifted my position, keeping my eyes on the bloody knife he had stilled. "I am a warrior." Little boy. I snickered, earning a raised eyebrow from the ranger. I waved it off, unwilling to share the brief thought. He would certainly not take well to it. "But I usually just bring preserved food. It's worked well enough so far, and I've been at this for almost ten years." Even if three of those had been spent locked away...

"And you'll starve in a month because you won't have me to skin these for you, ladyship. If you lose your pack or use your store up, you're dead. So you need to watch me and learn." Bishop said it with such authority that I found myself unable to say no.

He set off showing me where to cut the carcass, which parts of the meat could be used for food, and which were best tossed. I took note of all Bishop did, curious over how he had come to learn it all. However, the annoyance he'd displayed last time I'd asked was enough to still my tongue.

When Bishop put the bones aside, I tipped my head. Without looking up, the ranger sighed. "What is it, princess?"

"Oh, I- I was just wondering why you set the bones over there. Why wouldn't you put them with the parts you'll toss out?"

"Because I use them to make arrows. Wood is too fragile, in my opinion. Whittling down bones is more difficult but makes deadlier arrows." He spoke matter-of-factly, and I was sure he'd been at this for a good long while.

My head was full of knowledge by the time the sun started setting. The fading light shone through Bishop's short hair and showed it to be a soft brown, almost blond at the tips.

Again, his cutting stare let me know my observation had not gone unseen. However, I didn't shrink away in embarrassment, instead tipping my chin up in defiance before returning to set up my bedroll. Not missing a beat, Bishop shook his head and packed up the meat. I eventually fell asleep to the scraping sound of him carving the bone arrows.

...

"Finally," I huffed, seeing the small town in the distance. Bishop nodded, clearly having the same train of thought. The mountain that had been so large in the distance was utterly monstrous now that I stood at its base. The ranger noticed me gawking at the mountain, its peaks shrouded in darkness in the night. I'd been in Skyrim before, even gone treasure hunting around the province. However, I'd never found myself so close to the mountain.

"Welcome to Ivarstead, princess." He paused. "The Throat of the World. There's a path pilgrims take up. They call it the 7,000 Steps. Never did find a reason to climb it myself."

"Pretty sure I can guess why." I craned my neck and still could barely see the top. Near the peak was a building, appearing so tiny from where I was. "I can see High Hrothgar." Bishop followed my line of sight and scoffed.

"You don't need to concern yourself with it; I highly doubt you'll ever have a reason to visit." My curiosity was piqued by Bishop's brushing off.

"And why is that?" I challenged, setting my arms akimbo.

"First off, unless you're some pilgrim who wants to talk to rocks or clouds or whatever, there's no point in walking up those steps."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "I think it's like a respect thing for the Greybeards." I received a scoff from the ranger.

"The Greybeards are just useless old men who should just roll over and die already! They sit there and talk to the light; maybe someone should tell 'em to just go to it!" Bishop spat, clenching his fists. A moment passed before he gave a sigh and smoothed out his hair. "Again, princess, I wouldn't bother."

I opened my mouth to reply but never got a chance to speak. Bishop sped up, clearly in an attempt to avoid conversation at that point. I pursed my lips, contemplating whether to question him on his hatred of some odd monks but decided against it. Just as my problems were none of his business, so were his issues none of mine.

I trailed behind Bishop into the inn, right at the town entrance. "Come on, princess." He walked into the inn as though his feet had led him there many times, though the unfamiliar setting made me uneasy. "This is Vilemyr Inn." I scowled again at the ranger.

"I've told you, I-" His piercing golden gaze was enough to stop my words in their tracks, forcing me to make peace with the fact that he wouldn't stop. At least he'll be gone once we find his wolf, I told myself. And with all this trouble, he's bound to pay well. "Ahem... so why are we here?"

Bishop raised a single brow. "To sleep? Rest? Lay our heads so we may recuperate before going on our way?" I bit my lip to avoid spitting out a nasty insult but followed the ranger all the same.

Inside the inn, the barkeeper sent a wary look our way before returning to his task of wiping the counters down. "We've got warm food and warm beds. If you're looking to rest, take a seat by the fire and I'll send someone over." I opened my mouth to reply, but a tug at my midnight-black hair drew my attention to Bishop walking away and sitting down at the bar.

"First off, I'll take two rooms." He threw a small coinpurse onto the table, and the innkeeper swept them up. He'd barely moved before Bishop held up a hand. "But I'm also looking for information."

The innkeeper nodded and put the mug he was cleaning down. "Listen, boy. I don't give information." He leaned forward. "What I do is sell it." Bishop instantly tensed up, face turning harsh.

"Listen here, buddy. Wipe that smirk off your face." Bishop shifted his weight on the stool, eyes boring into those of the barkeep. "Tell me what you know about dogfights." The innkeeper's expression became uneasy.

"Dogfights? As in..."

"As in dogfights, dumbass." A shrug was the only response Bishop got, and his face turned sour. "Now." Bishop pulled out his iron dagger and ran a finger along its sharp edge, his piercing gaze remaining on the barkeeper.

The man behind the counter shook his head. "I promise, I don't know anything about dogfights. But you can try asking Lynly Star-Sung, right over there. She just came this way from out east. I swear by the Divines, I haven't heard anything about it here." I pursed my lips and leaned forward.

"What about Daedra?" I queried, sitting down in the booth. Both Bishop and the innkeeper looked at me with undisguised surprise. I ignored their stares and continued. "Any encounters with worshippers? Or treasure hunters?"

The innkeeper leaned down to grab a set of keys from under the counter. "There's a statue to Azura way up north. Some say the Dark Elves built it. And southeast of here, near the Jeralls, is a shrine. Not sure which one, though." I pressed my tongue to the inside of my cheek as I absorbed the information and wondered if my path with Bishop would lead past it or if he'd be willing to make a detour. "Is that all?"

"I asked about treasure hunters."

"And if I had anything about treasure hunters, I woulda said something." He returned his gaze to Bishop. "As for you, ask Lynly about your business. And your rooms'll be right next to each other over there." He pointed to two separate doors before tossing a set of keys to Bishop. His voice was still gruff and annoyed, likely from the threats Bishop had made. "Yours for the night." It was clear he was done talking when he shifted and began cleaning mugs once again.

Bishop slipped out of the booth and eyed me. I didn't know whether or not he was going to inquire about my odd questions, but to my relief, he kept any opinions to himself. "I'm going to ask her. And why don't you let me do all the talking this time, hmm?" I couldn't figure out whether or not to be offended. "Might scare her off with the talk about Daedra." I guess he isn't going to keep to himself after all. I sent a glower his way.

"It's not like you were all nicey-nice with the barkeep," I countered.

"Maybe not, but that over there is a woman..." I waited for him to make his point, disliking where he was going with the comment. "And I've got my sheer animal magnetism to get her to talk."

I had to use every bit of my willpower to avoid rolling my eyes to the high heavens. "Whatever. Let's get what we need to know so I can sleep." Bishop crossed his arms.

"Fine, go to sleep if you're tired, princess. Here's your key." I glanced at Bishop and Lynly Star-Sung before shrugging and heading off. The last I heard before closing my bedroom door was the deep baritone of Bishop's voice as he spoke to the bard.

...

"Wake up, ladyship. What, are you planning on sleeping all day?" My eyes burned as I forced myself up. Through my bleary sight, I could see the fuzzy form of Bishop wriggling around at the foot of my bed. "Let's go."

"I- what?"

"You said you'd help, now get your ass up. I've got a good lead on Karnwyr." The Nord was excited, though he hid it well while continuing to shake my leg.

"Get your hand off my leg," I groaned, shoving him off. Unabashed, he returned his hand to my leg. "I said, get the fuck off my leg." I was wide-awake now as I brandished one of my silver shortswords, the point at his throat. "How in Oblivion did you get into my room? I locked the door."

Bishop stood up straight and leaned against the wall, clearly not intending to answer my question. His face was a mask. "We've both been down for five hours. Now come on, princess. You got your beauty sleep." I peered at him through stinging eyes and offered my own quip.

"You could use more." Bishop scowled but gave no retort. I sighed and swung my legs to the floor in preparation to stand up, and he immediately thrust a bottle into my hands. "What's this?" I set it down on the nightstand.

The Nord wore a mixture of glee and annoyance on his face, both of which were conveyed ever so clearly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's called mead, sweetheart," he jeered. "Wakey wakey."

"You- why? Mead at, what, six in the morning?"

"Welcome to Skyrim," he deadpanned. "Get up, ladyship. We've quite a bit of ground to cover." I got on to reluctantly obeying the ranger, slipping the leather covers over my clothes and tying my blades back onto my belt. The brown-haired Nord eyed my motions distastefully. "Why do you do that?" He beckoned for me to follow as he left the room. I left the drink on the nightstand.

"Do what?" I asked as I trotted up behind him.

"Take your armor off when you sleep in an inn, not to mention your weapons." I was visibly confused, something the ranger didn't fail to notice. "You can't-" Bishop's golden eyes widened as he slowed his gait, allowing me to catch up. "You can't possibly think it's safe. Ladyship, you can't tell me you're that stupid."

I huffed, slighted by the insult. "It's not stupidity; it's getting a good night's sleep so that I'm in a good enough state to behead a few bastards on the road to Oblivion." Bishop shook for a moment, and I only grew more irate when I realized he was laughing.

"Oh, sweetheart. You really don't have experience in Skyrim, do you?"

"Of course I do. Shut up." I crossed my arms, black hair feathering around my leather breastplate. I pulled out a leather strip and bound it behind my head before continuing. Bishop knelt and checked the ground before moving on.

"Well, I'll tell you this much; Skyrim isn't like that cute little land you call Cyrodil. It's harsh, and so are its people. A lot of them'll kill you in a second if they think they can make coin off you." I still didn't speak, my silence asking the question all the same. "Don't worry, princess. I won't let any bandits make off with your coin before I do."

Vexed, I stormed ahead of Bishop. "You don't need to explain Skyrim to me, ranger." I paused, seething. "You really can be a real pain in the ass."

"Oh, but it doesn't have to be. Especially if I go slow." I whirled around to glare, and he held up his hands in surrender. "What? I'm kidding. Mostly."

Unwilling to continue this particular conversation, I kept up the lead in the direction Bishop had started. "So you wanna tell me where we're going? I take it another five hundred miles will get us there?"

"Actually, ladyship, it's only about sixty-five. That's a full day's walk." Bishop shielded his eyes and looked up at the rising sun. "We're heading to a town called Riften."

I bit the inside of my cheek, distaste clear. "I know about Riften. Broken down, corrupt as all Oblivion."

Bishop shrugged. "You're not wrong for once, my lady." He pushed a branch out of the way, and I finally processed his words.

"For once?!"

The ranger ignored my indignant expression and once again took the lead. "Karnwyr isn't in Riften, but a man who might know his location is." Leaves crunched under our feet, letting the smell I could only describe as autumn out.

"Are we ever going to get to kill something, or are we just going to keep bouncing back and forth between quaint little villages?" Bishop pressed his lips together but remained silent. After a moment, I gave a small sigh. "Sorry. I like more action than this." I instantly regretted my words as Bishop turned to face me, tapping his chin as a wicked smile played across his face.

"Action, my lady? I can make that happen." I waved him off, ignoring his hearty laugh. "You don't want reactions like that, watch what you say, princess." He ran a hand through his chestnut-brown hair and kept up the pace. "But welcome to the Rift. In fact, if you're up for it, I know these forests pretty well and am open to suggestions..."

From that moment forward, I remained stalwart in a personal vow to remain quiet, even in the occasional battle with a spriggan or bear. Bishop was unbothered by the silence, in all honesty, probably enjoying it. The trek did prove to be calming to us both, tension fading into the cool autumn air.

The soft red and orange leaves falling from the birch trees brought a smile to my face. "What are you thinking?" Bishop's voice was quiet, lacking all emotion. "You've been staring at the trees for a while now."

I considered whether to answer before giving up, a faint smile playing on my face as I held my hand out. A yellow leaf landed square in my palm. "Nothing important. It just reminds me of Cyrodil. Skyrim doesn't have much color. It's just... gray." My companion still did not speak, waiting for further explanation. "It reminds me of my homeland. There are a thousand different places there, all with their own personalities and people." I let the leaf flutter to the ground. "I like it here."

"In the Rift?"

"I- well, yes. Not Riften, but the forests around it."

Bishop looked at the ground. "I don't see how a place can have a personality," he commented. "Memories, sure. People, of course. But personality? You need to make more sense, my lady." My smile had not faded, nor had I looked at Bishop.

"Maybe you'll understand someday, Bishop. Even if that's not today, or at any point in these next few days with me, I hope you do."