((3rd Person/Bishop POV))

Bishop shoved his things into the pack at his side, intent on sneaking out of town that night. "Crazy-ass woman," the ranger growled, gritting his teeth in irritation. "Let's just get out of here and be done with her. How does that sound?" He turned his head toward Karnwyr, who gave a small yip before lying down on the floor. "Oh, come on. She doesn't need to come with." Karnwyr didn't reply, just blinked his big yellow eyes and sniffed. "Look, buddy. I know you like her, but I'm done with her shit. One day in town and she's managed to attract the attention of a killer. Nothing but trouble since she came around." Karnwyr whined, and the tall man rolled his amber eyes. "I don't care that she'll be alone! I just want to go back to how it was. You and me, taking on the world."

From that point on, the ranger pretended not to see the disapproving stare the wolf gave. He looked out the window, hating how the sun was barely halfway across the sky. He thought on her fury when she'd tried to slap him, that mouth of hers always getting them in trouble. Whatever, he thought, ire tensing his limbs. She can take care of herself.

Bishop hoisted his pack and bow onto his shoulder and nudged Karnwyr with his foot. "Coming?" he asked, straightening his belt before walking out. "Let's get something to eat." He knew the wolf was following from the clicking of nails on the wooden floor, not that he'd doubted him. Near the exit, he locked eyes with the barkeep and held up a finger. The Nord female nodded and pulled a mug out before filling it up. He slid into the stool and took a drink, sighing inwardly. I'd needed this.

A guard slipped into the booth next to the scruffy ranger and set her helmet onto the counter, shaking medium-length blonde hair out. Bishop eyed her up and down. "You got somethin' to say?" the guard queried testily. Bishop leaned back and shook his head before taking another swig of his mead.

"Not really," he replied smoothly, "other than to ask- why's a beautiful woman like you in the guard?" She hit the table.

"Don't try it, mister," she warned, though a smile betrayed her amusement. "So sorry to tell you this, but I'm married."

"And what difference does that make?" Bishop remarked snarkily. The guardswoman laughed at the remark and started to pick at the food on her platter. "Well, at least someone appreciates a bit of humor." At her questioning look, the ranger waved it off and held his mug up. She clanged hers against his, and they both drank together.

...

Bishop leaned against the back door of Candlehearth Hall, waiting for the sun to dip below the horizon. A small signal to his wolf was all it took for the canine to follow, stepping silently through the snow. The guards should have been extra vigilant after the murder, so stealth was necessary. All the same, the time he'd chosen was perfect. Along with the waning sunlight, the guards on patrol would be eager for their shift to end, and the impatience would make them miss simple things, or at the least, ignore them.

Making it to the docks was easy, but they never managed to slip out. Karnwyr gave a low growl, and Bishop shot him a glare as a warning to stay quiet. Karnwyr whined and took a few steps down the alleyway before looking at Bishop. "Get back over here, ya mutt," the ranger whispered, jabbing his finger down at the ground. "Now." The wolf remained stoic. "You know what? Fine." Bishop started walking out of the city, expecting Karnwyr to give up and follow like he usually did.

A tug at the bottom of his leather jacket pulled the man back into the city, and he found himself pushing the wolf away. "What is your problem?" Bishop's voice was hushed but still conveyed his annoyance quite clearly. Karnwyr strode away, his stomps making it clear he expected Bishop to follow him this time. Rolling his eyes, Bishop gave up and trailed behind the wolf through the Gray Quarter slums. Unlike in the open streets, this part of Windhelm was poorly kept and thus had no torches lighting it up. Karnwyr gave a snarl and bolted up ahead.

He instantly recognized Alessia's form as she was thrown to the ground, and he bent down to inspect her while Karnwyr ran after the man. "What the hell did you get yourself into this time, princess?" he wondered. He expected Karnwyr to come back dragging the sad form of some ripped-up man, but to his surprise, the wolf trotted back with no prize to show for his pursuit. "Damn." He half-considered dropping her off at the apothecary but at the same time was compelled to bring her back to the inn. He shared a glance with Karnwyr before groaning and giving in. "Let's go, ladyship," he said to the unconscious woman, aware she couldn't hear him. He tucked one arm under the crook of her knees and the other under her neck. "Let's go."

...

Bishop ignored the odd glances he got from the other inn patrons, or at least the ones that were sober enough to look at him. Karnwyr was leading the way, head held high. Upon reaching the room, the ranger balanced on his left and kicked her swords off her bed with his right foot before placing her down. After a moment of contemplation, he figured he'd ask about it when she woke up. A thought needled at his mind as he set his effects back down. What exactly had happened to her?

...

Less than half a day later, the news reached Bishop's ears- another young woman had been killed. This one had been cut up, joints almost completely severed. The sick killer had even stolen some of her bones. According to guards and witnesses to the body, it was indeed a horrific sight. It made him uneasy, knowing that Alessia was a target of this heinous killer. For the briefest moment, looking at her, he felt shame for wanting to leave, and by extension, leave the Imperial to her fate.

He shook it off and pushed the poisonous thought to the back of his head. Bending down, he fed Karnwyr a scrap of beef and rubbed at the wolf's chin and ears. Karnwyr's red tail thumped against the wooden floor, signaling his happiness. As the ranger continued to give Karnwyr attention, he pondered just why Karnwyr had chosen to run to her instead of following him out the door.

With a shrug, Bishop gave his wolf several final pats on the head and pulled out a book to lose himself in.

...

Bishop took a slow drink, his mind whirling as he tried to think. She shouldn't have still been asleep. Something was wrong. No shit, his mind sneered, and he pressed his lips together. Annoyance pricked at his limbs. He wasn't usually in a town this long, and he was more irritated than ever at being stuck. He couldn't sneak out with an unconscious woman tossed over his shoulder, and at this point, he wasn't willing to leave her to a violent death.

A full twenty-four hours passed since Bishop had collected Alessia, yet she still slept. She'd opened her eyes every so often, just barely, murmuring nonsense words before going back under. His suspicion had grown tenfold; there was no possible way this was just a drunken slumber. Even at his worst, he'd only ever slept for maybe half a day before dealing with a massive headache for another.

He was reasonably sure of what had happened to her but felt he needed to talk to her to make sure. Until she awoke, he'd have to keep an eye on her the best he could.

"Keep an eye out. The Butcher could be around any corner!" Bishop had to suppress a sigh at the gray-haired woman babbling as she walked around the upstairs. Karnwyr was keeping watch over Alessia, giving the ranger time to relax and eat again. The woman's crowing continued. "The name? Oh, I called him the Butcher because of how he butchered Isabella- and the other, bless her soul... she's lucky she wasn't ripped apart."

"She's dead," Bishop muttered under his breath. "I'd venture to say that's not very lucky at all." More chattering came from upstairs, followed by a young man's voice. Bishop recognized it as the bard.

"Come, come! My friends! What better way to chase the cold and fear from our bones than a song?"

Bishop laughed humorlessly to himself. "Anything else." The bard was upstairs and thus did not hear his snarky comment.

"Listen, all! Listen to Alec, the Prince of Song!"

Bishop rolled his eyes and drank again. "Can you get any more full of yourself?" he asked the empty air.

"We drink to our youth, to the days come and gone... for the age of oppression is now nearly done. We'll drive out the Empire and restore what we own. With our blood and our steel, we will take back our home."

Bishop finished his drink and tossed a few coins onto the counter with a groan. If she didn't wake up- really wake up- within the next few hours, then he'd have to come up with another plan. The problem was he had no idea where to start.

"How about this?" he muttered to himself, reaching past the barkeeper and snatching the bit of lavender on her shelf. He stopped her protests with another coin, then left to join Alessia and Karnwyr in the room. It wasn't for any sort of romantic gesture or a push to bed her. His extensive history with hangovers meant he knew the scent of lavender was a good fix for a headache- and if he was right, she'd have one hell of one when she woke up. He eyed Karnwyr after setting the blooms down onto the dresser. "And now, my fuzzy friend... we wait."