The vile stench of sewer water made me gag as Bishop pushed open the gates to Riften. I caught him giving the stink-eye to the guard, but thankfully, he didn't start another fight. Frankly, it almost surprised me. Bishop seemed like the kind of man to hold a grudge.
It was dark out, stars dappling the blue-black blanket over the sky. The rainclouds had dispersed on our way back to Riften, leaving the grass glistening and dirt turned to mud. It occurred to me that the stars I saw now were the same stars I'd looked at when I lived in Cyrodil. For some reason, that comforted me.
"Hey princess, if you want a room, hurry it up. I'm not going to wait for you."
I flicked his shoulder lightly. "I thought you were following me," I teased.
"Only because the view from the rear is far more pleasant." I couldn't find a comeback soon enough as Bishop whirled around on his heel and strode towards Riften's inn.
"Whatever," I grumbled, biting my lip and following the grouchy ranger into the Bee and Barb. My attention was stuck on the conversation, so I hadn't noticed Bishop had stopped until I slammed right into his back. He didn't move in the slightest, body gone entirely rigid. "Hello? Bishop?" He didn't offer a quip or innuendo, instead keeping his golden eyes on a priest in the middle of the room.
The priest was a Redguard under his tan robes, and his speech was delicate yet loud as he preached. "Lady Mara is displeased!" Beside me, Bishop's tension rose. Despite his shouting, the drunks in the room were paying little heed to the Redguard. The Argonian barkeeper in the back put her head in her claws, and it was clear this was not the first time the priest had shown up. He didn't stop ranting, despite everyone in the room ignoring him. "People of Riften, heed my words. The hostilities throughout Skyrim are on the rise! This is one of the signs. The signs that Lady Mara is displeased with your constant inebriation and immoral debaucherous ways. Put down your flagons filled with your vile liquids, and embrace the teachings of the handmaiden of Kyne." The priest's encouraging words were met with disdain from both the patrons and the Argonian.
"No, no, Maramal..." the Argonian woman sighed. "We talked about this... Talen..."
Maramal nodded to her and held out his hands. "Keerava, certainly we can come to some sort of understanding? These people must be made aware of the chaos they've sown!" His insistence earned him nothing but scorn, and as he faced the crowd to preach once more, the tension in the air grew tenfold. "You can make things right if you only give yourselves to Lady Mara!"
The Argonian male in the tavern, likely the one Keerava had addressed as Talen, walked up to the priest. Talen's green scales shone in the candlelight as he laid a clawed hand on Maramal's shoulder. "Enough, Maramal. The war has gone on for years, and it's not getting any better or worse. There's no need to use it as an excuse to harass our customers."
Maramal appeared not so much displeased as disappointed as he bowed his head. "Very well, Talen. I'll remove myself from this den of iniquity." His words did, however, hold an edge at the end. Talen gave a final sigh as Maramal turned towards the other entrance.
"We're not kicking you out." Talen's tail was flicking back and forth, and I wondered if it was a sign he was upset or nervous. "Just keep the sermons at the temple and let us all sin in peace."
My attention was drawn back to Bishop when he cracked his knuckles. "What's wrong?" My words may have been only a murmur, but the ranger acted like he hadn't heard. "You gonna answer me?" Bishop at last spared a moment to look at me and pretended to contemplate my question.
"Hmm... nope." He spun on his heel and pushed past me to walk out the door. Karnwyr trailed behind faithfully, though the red wolf's ears were pressed back against his head.
"Bishop!" I demanded, exiting the inn as well to follow him. "Wait, I-" I didn't know what to ask him, and from the way the Nord ahead snorted, he was well aware of it.
"Pfft! Cat got your tongue, princess?" he said dryly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Gods save me from those thrice-be-damned cultists."
I looked back and forth between Bishop and where Maramal had gone. "You mean the priesthood of Mara? That-"
"Is none of your business, ladyship." His voice was low, little more than a growl, as he interrupted me. He wasn't facing me, but his words still carried on the wind as he shoved through the gates of Riften. "Let's go. It looks like we're sleeping in bedrolls again tonight." I looked at the city in dismay. "I wouldn't sleep in that city anyway. Full of thieves and rats."
No matter what I said, he was silent as the grave from there on out.
...
The fire's warmth in the cave spread out, melting the ice in my bones caused by the frigid rain. Bishop's attitude, on the other hand, remained freezing cold. It was clear he didn't want to talk about the priest in Riften, but I was curious nonetheless. Besides, I was reasonably good at getting what I wanted. "So, Bishop." He focused on the fire as he poked the tinder he'd found in the cave, sending sparks and smoke up. "Now that we're out of the city, mind telling me why you got so upset back there?"
"Yes, I do mind." He didn't offer anything else. I scooted closer to him, hoping I could glean something else from him.
"Is the poor ranger sad because the priest said he shouldn't drink?" My tone was playful, but Bishop took my words at face value.
"No! Just let it be!" he snarled, causing me to draw back. He ignored me from that moment on, and at that point, it was just fine with me. I didn't want to deal with a surly ranger anyway.
"Fine. You do you, Bishop."
We remained silent long after the fire had turned to glowing embers. Bishop was sleeping, his breathing rhythmic. Karnwyr had snuggled up next to him and was puppy-snoring away. It might have been a relaxing setting with the soothing sounds of slumber and crickets, the scent of fresh rain, and the gentle warmth of the dying fire, but my mind was miles away.
"You brat! Do you think you're special? Think again, Dian!"
"You think your life is that bad here? I feed you, clothe you when I could throw your miserable ass onto the streets where you belong!"
"Leyawiin would be better off without you cursed wretches in it!"
The words of Miss Muriel washed over my half-asleep nightmares as I relived my childhood.
"Maybe I should petition the Count to ship you off somewhere else where we won't waste time and resources on you!"
"You're nothing, and you never will be!"
"If your parents didn't love you enough to keep you, then no one ever will! Do you hear me?! No one!"
"Wake up! Wake up!"
"No one!" I cried out as I bolted awake, finally out of the halfway dreamworld I'd entered. Bishop was staring down at me with a disapproving look.
"What was that about, woman?" he demanded. "Were you trying to attract predators? You know what, forget it. I don't want you getting the idea that I care or something." His handsome features were twisted into a scowl. Karnwyr was up as well, tipping his head inquisitively. No one. I shuddered roughly as I considered my nightmares.
"Sorry," I mumbled, avoiding his golden gaze. "I had a nightmare."
Bishop eyed me for a few moments before scoffing and returning to his bedroll. "Figured," he muttered. "I couldn't sleep with all that screaming of yours."
I scratched at the ground. "Go ahead. Nothing's stopping you now." A few minutes passed before light snoring let me know that he was asleep.
Tossing and turning all night hadn't exactly granted me insight on my days in Leyawiin, but it had solidified a solution to another problem.
I quietly rummaged around in Bishop's pack, looking for his black leather cloak. Finding it, I instantly slung it over my shoulders and lifted the hood. Karnwyr came over and nosed at the hem, whining lightly as he nipped my fingers. "It's okay, buddy," I whispered, scratching his red ears. "I just need to do this." I eyed Bishop, but the ranger still slept in his bedroll. "See you soon, Karnwyr." I kissed the top of the wolf's big fluffy head and stood, creeping out of the cave as silently as I could.
...
I stared down at the body below me, the throat a bright red smile dripping scarlet tears. My silver sword nearly dropped from my hand as I considered the corpse. I wasn't, by any stretch, horrified by what I had done. My only concern now was with potentially being tracked as the killer. After all, I'd been asking questions and poking my nose into Riften's business. If I wanted out, I'd have to pin the killer on someone else.
It was a good thing I knew exactly who and how.
Swallowing my disgust, I swirled my hand around in the blood and faced the wall. I placed my palm onto the dark wood with care, leaving a crimson imprint as a calling card. Beneath the mark, I wrote one word:
S
Shivering at the invocation of the Dread Father's name, I wiped my hand off on the already-bloody bedsheets and escaped out the window.
...
When I returned to the cave, it was nearly dawn. Bishop was already awake, poking at the now-flaming campfire. He didn't meet my eyes, but his voice was pointed. "Where were you?"
"Out," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
"For a walk?"
"Mmhmm. Couldn't get back to sleep."
He adjusted the branches and eyed me as I sat down to warm my cold hands. "Why are your hands wet?"
"I washed them in a stream."
"A stream."
"Yes. Is it a crime to use the bathroom?"
"No, I suppose not." He stood up as I scratched at Karnwyr's scruff. "But you should keep your nose clean while I'm with you, ladyship." Bishop reached out toward my face, and I instinctively slapped him away. Unbothered, the ranger did so again, wiping something off my skin that I soon realized was blood. His golden eyes bored into mine, the emotion enigmatically indiscernible. "I hope it was worth it."
...
We stood about half a mile from Riften, and a nervous shiver went up my back. Bishop lifted a brow. "Everything all right, ladyship?"
"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine." I scratched the back of my head. "I mean, we don't really need to come back to Riften, right? We could just go on ahead somewhere else."
"Sorry, princess, but we need supplies before getting back on the road." He eyed me sideways. "I'm not saying we need to stay, but we should at least stop by the tavern."
It was my turn to be annoyed. "Mead isn't a necessity, Bishop."
"Speak for yourself, princess. If I'm going to help you-"
"Do you even know what you're helping me with?"
"You said you had business. If I'm nothing more than hired help-"
"I'm not paying you."
"Can I speak without you interrupting me, ladyship?!" He gave a huff. "Gods. You need to learn how to shut up every so often." Ignoring my gaping mouth, Bishop continued. "I'm used to being hired help, princess. I'll go where you go, generally help where help is needed since you helped me out with Karnwyr. But!" He held up a finger. "But, if you're going to behave like this on a regular basis, I'm at least going to need some ale to stomach it."
As I stewed in my frustration, Bishop turned on his heel and strode toward Riften, whistling a merry tune.
...
"You don't need to keep looking around like you're gonna get jumped, ladyship. I, your fearless protector, am here to defend you."
"Comforting." I groaned and set my head in my hands. "So, what now?"
"Now? Now to the tavern. I didn't get the chance to order mead the last time we were in town."
I decided to push his buttons a bit since he'd done nothing but push mine. "Oh, right." I snapped my fingers. "You were scared of the priest."
His mischievous grin faded almost instantly. "Watch what you say, ladyship. One of these days, that pretty mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble."
I leaned in close to his ear, lips nearly brushing his skin. "I look forward to it." As I drew back, I was pleased to see that I'd successfully frustrated him. "Now, to the tavern, correct?"
"Yeah. Whatever." Bishop's footfalls were heavy with anger as he shoved a Redguard teen out of the way. "Move it."
"Bishop!" I complained, walking over and helping the Redguard up. "Are you okay?"
"Is he okay? Really, ladyship? How about, what in Oblivion is he doing standing in the middle of the walkway?" Bishop's short query made the Redguard boy jump in fear, but he calmed down a tad when he looked back at me.
"I- well, I'm waiting for someone."
"Someone?"
"Y-yeah. She said she'd help me with something. Someone I owe money to cheated me, and another Nord woman I'm waiting on said-"
"That she'd help. All right." I faced the door. "Whatever you say, kid." I headed toward the Bee and Barb, intent on lending a hand.
"Hold on, princess." I paused and faced Bishop. "You're going to help him, aren't you?"
I shrugged. "Is something wrong with that?"
"Oh, of course not. It's not like you started making enemies as soon as you came into Riften." Bishop sighed. "Five minutes, ladyship. Five minutes back in Riften was all it took for someone to take advantage of your bleeding heart." I found no reply as we entered the Bee and Barb.
I brushed him off and scowled before looking around the inn. A pretty red-haired Nord was arguing with a more relaxed, nasty-looking ginger right by the door.
The redhead puffed up her chest. "Drop the debt or answer to me, Sapphire." Although initially surprised, the extortioner burst out laughing.
"Haha! Are you kidding me? I've got the entire Thieves Guild at my back. What've you got?" I glanced over at Bishop querulously, and he shook his head before sitting on a bench and crossing his legs.
I decided now was the right time to make my move. The red-haired woman wasn't succeeding in her intimidation attempt, but I knew I could be pretty persuasive when I wanted to. There were benefits to being an Imperial. "You and I both know this is a setup. Come on; he's just a kid." I let my Voice of the Emperor flow over Sapphire as I approached, softening her mind and weakening her resolve.
The thief appeared to contemplate my words for a few moments before shrugging her shoulders. "All right, all right," she conceded. "I guess I made enough from his shipment. No need to waste any more time threatening a stable hand. Tell Shadr he doesn't owe me anything." From there, she cast her eyes away from me. It was clear she didn't want to speak to me anymore.
The redhead turned herself to face me. "Thanks, but you didn't have to," she said awkwardly. "Why did you help?" I didn't exactly have a response, but I did have more than one reason to be in the Bee and Barb.
I held out my hand. "Alessia," I introduced myself. The woman didn't seem bothered by my reluctance to answer her question and shook it.
"Russet," she answered, tone pleasant.
"Nice to meet you, Russet." My back to Bishop, I pulled out a parchment that I'd sketched on. "Out of curiosity, have you seen this man?" I hoped I didn't sound as desperate as I thought I did. "He's a Breton. Blond hair, brown eyes, and a red birthmark that resembles a Dwemer gear." I pointed to a spot on the drawing.
Russet appeared almost amused. "That's specific." She scanned the page, clearly running through her mind for an answer. Eventually, she straightened up and shrugged her shoulders. I knew her response before she spoke, and I deflated out of disappointment. "Sorry, never seen him. I'll keep an eye out, though. Do you live here in Riften?"
"Nah, just passing through." I sighed deeply, breathing slowly to avoid shouting aloud. I'd never understand the man's ability to vanish. "Thanks anyway, Russet."
With that, I headed to the bar. I had no intent on drinking, but I hoped that the innkeeper would have an idea where he was. Of course, by the time Bishop caught up to me, I'd already received my negative answer. I sipped on my water while he started a conversation.
"I'll admit, ladyship, I'm kind of surprised." Bishop slid into the booth next to me and held up a finger. The Argonian woman slid him a mug of ale, swiftly scooping up the septim he slapped down.
"Surprised about what?"
"Surprised you managed to convince that woman to drop a debt. Most people like that, especially in Riften, are money-hungry and would continue to refuse until the world stopped turning." He paused and held up two fingers to the bartender for two more drinks. She pushed two tankards over to us and filled them with mead. "How?" He continued to drink, but I simply pushed mine over to him.
"I guess I just have a silver tongue." After that comment, I refused to look at him, but he still had a comment to grant. Shockingly enough, it wasn't of a sexual nature.
"There was no point in that. Helping these random people..." He lowered his voice to a bare whisper. "Including those kids... why bother? It isn't any of your business." I had no answer. "So, you gonna tell me about that paper?"
"I thought I did."
"Did you?" Bishop took a swig of mead.
"Maybe you should stop drinking because I'm positive that I did."
"No, I don't think I will." His golden eyes glinted in amusement. Running my tongue over my teeth, I showed him the artwork.
"This man is... have you seen him?" Bishop scratched his stubble as he thought. "You said you'd help me with my business; this fucker is my business." The ranger laughed as though he hadn't expected that.
"Well, I wouldn't be this fucker for anything." He snatched the paper and took a drink. "Especially not with Karnwyr and me on his tail. No, ladyship, I haven't seen him, but some information might help."
I squirmed in my seat. "He's probably using a pseudonym, so I don't have a name. He's a Breton. Blond hair, brown eyes."
Bishop set down his cup. "Sorry, but no. The only lead I'd say would be Brynjolf." He snorted derisively. "He fancies himself part of the Thieves Guild, and they make it their business to stick their nose into everything."
I gave a heavy sigh. "And where would this 'Brynjolf' be?"
"Right behind you, ladyship." I turned my head a bit.
"What, the bloke in the puffy noble clothes?" I laughed under my breath and finished off my water. "Please."
"It's a facade, princess." Bishop's voice took on an odd tone. "Believe me, I've wanted to box his ears more than a few times, but he's got some muscle under that fluff."
Brynjolf's eyes quickly met mine as I slid off the stool and walked up close. His emerald eyes shimmered with interest. "Hello there, lass. How can I help you?" He took my hand and shook it, to which I very pointedly shook off.
"Hello," I asked warily, taking a step back. "Have you seen this man?" I held out the page, and the red-haired fellow scratched his chin idly.
"I might have. But it would help if something jogged my memory."
"I don't have money," I said crossly, now certain I didn't like him. Sure, I had a few hundred septims hidden away, but I wasn't going to part with a single coin- not one piece of it.
Brynjolf straightened up. "Then I'm afraid our business is-"
"Is there anything I can do? To earn the information?" I'd do virtually anything for information. I had a job to do, dammit, and I'd get it done no matter the cost. While I'd entered the Bee and Barb with eyes half-closed from exhaustion, I was wide-awake now.
The Nord seemed to consider me, looking me up and down. "Perhaps. It depends on what you're willing to do, of course."
"I sure hope you're not implying what I think you are." Brynjolf chuckled lowly.
"Sorry to disappoint, but no. I have my eye on a different lass. I mean something not quite... lawful. You'd be paid for your efforts."
I crossed my arms. "I just want information," I told him crossly. "Keep your filched coins, Brynjolf."
His left brow swept upwards. "Heard of me, have you?"
"Let's just say I'm fairly new to this town and yet still heard your name tossed around quite a bit." I stood up straight. "Please," I urged, pouring everything into the word. "I just want information." I let the sense flow out of me, the not-quite-magical aura washing over Brynjolf. "Just some information."
Brynjolf hesitated, then crossed his arms before relenting. "I can't say I've seen your lad, but if I was hiding away from someone..." He eyed me pointedly before continuing. "I'd pick the Ratway below the city." I tried to keep a straight face. "If anyone could tell you who's hiding out, it would be Vekel in the Ragged Flagon."
"Thanks, Brynjolf. I appreciate it."
"Yeah... no problem." I couldn't help but laugh as he visibly fought with himself and wondered why he'd given in. Voice of the Emperor, you swindling creep.