Author's Note:

Dear all,

this is a bit of an extra piece that I finally managed to write down, complementing the main fic storyline:) It's a little glimpse of the past from the perspective of a character that we don't get to see very much in the fic. It takes place a few years before the events of the first book.

This short tale is going to get very dark, as you will likely know just as you learn the identity of the character. I will be publishing the story in three full chapters plus one shorter epilogue chapter released here in the Extras book. Content warnings will be included when necessary, so please heed them.

Also, this story will be spanning over quite a long time (about a year and a half), so be aware that a lot of the sections (designated by the '…' marker) happen after some time, usually weeks or even months. It shouldn't be very confusing, I hope, and the context should let you know well enough (at least I tried to make it clear and somewhat fluent).

I hope you'll all enjoy this story and that you're enjoying the main fic as well :)

P.S. This chapter also includes a flashback (I know, flashback in a prequelesque story :D Sounds like an overkill). So just so it doesn't get confusing, the part in italics happened even earlier than when this story takes place ;)

The Serene Forest

Part I – A Dalliance

She watched silently as he fastened his trousers again and draped his shirt over his head.

She was still in her bed, haphazardly covering her naked body with a fur blanket, although she wasn't even sure why. It was too warm to be covered. Summers were always so warm down south, not to mention that she still felt a bit flushed after their morning activities.

He didn't say a word the entire time as he began gathering his things, looking for his pack and fastening the strings on his boots. It might have been strange in the beginning – she had never done anything like this before. She had never done anything so… casual. But she got used to the ins and outs very quickly.

He was never much for words. Not after. And come to think of it, not before. Sometimes they talked, but it was never about anything serious. She liked that. She never had to think about anything unpleasant around him. It was a nice distraction from her daily struggles. Her business hasn't been going well lately. Not a lot of people frequented Falkreath.

Some even said that the place was cursed.

Death and Falkreath. It went hand in hand. The locals had a sick fascination with it that caught her off guard when she'd moved here from Shor's Stone. She wasn't used to people approaching the subject of death so openly, even using it to promote their businesses and such. It was like the whole town made death into an odd joke. Or maybe 'a point of worship' was a more accurate phrase. It was definitely unusual for her. She was more used to people avoiding that subject, especially around her, ever since her parents had perished.

Still, she got used to it. And she was happy to be here in Falkreath. It felt much more comforting. She didn't want to stay in that mining village after the cave-in that had killed her parents. And the forests around this town were beautiful and serene. So peaceful. Nothing here reminded her of the Rift. It was perfect.

If only the business bloomed as well.

But that was enough thinking about such things. This was supposed to be the moment when she was still basking in the afterglow of her perfect distraction. She kind of wanted him to distract her again.

"Are you leaving the city again?" she asked idly as he finally found everything that he needed and slung his pack onto his back.

"Yeah. Why?" Bishop asked.

"I was just checking. In case you wanted to come by tonight again," she gave him a small smile. She certainly wouldn't complain about that.

"Not tonight," Bishop sighed. He seemed just as disappointed at that, but he didn't really provide any more details to it. Not why he was leaving town, not where he was going and what he was going to be doing there. She was already used to not asking. If he even gave her an answer, it was always so vague. "But I'll be back soon, I think. The people here pay more for game than anywhere else," he smirked.

She knew that. The forests may have been teeming with wildlife, but the rumor was that they were very dangerous in their depths. A lot of people were intimidated by them so there weren't many hunters in the area. She didn't get it – the fear of the Falkreath woods. She knew that there were bears and wolves there. There were even rumors of witch covens and vicious bandits and werewolves there. Maybe people were right. There was a chance that the forest was far more dangerous than it seemed. But she couldn't help but feel calm and soothed every time she looked at it or walked around the outskirts to pick mushrooms and plants to cook or sell. It was a beautiful place. And she hoped to stay.

If only people paid as much for her goods as they paid for game.

She had asked Bishop before if he wanted to 'join forces' previously. He was a good hunter, or so he claimed, so he could always bring game here and she could sell it to the highest bidders for some small profit. But Bishop's answer was resolute. 'Why the fuck would I need a middleman?' Well… he wasn't exactly wrong. This deal would have been far more profitable for her than for him. He may have even lost money on it if she couldn't find anyone who would pay significantly more for game than what he was getting now. And besides, he had his own contacts, he had his own ways. He liked to sell to the same people for the same prices, likely to avoid the hassle of dealing with uppity merchants.

And he told her – no attachments.

It was a good idea. If they went into business together and then broke their 'relationship' off, it might have gotten ugly and uncomfortable. No. This was better. This was good. They both got what they needed from each other and there would be no hard feelings if things changed.

Was it strange that this was the best relationship that she had ever had?

Sometimes she thought that it was quite sad. But other times, she chastised herself for thinking like that. Why? Why not? Every one of her past relationships ended with her getting her heart broken. All she had of them soon were bitter memories. But not this time. There was a man that she liked well enough. She didn't know much about him, but she didn't need to. They had fun, they talked of idle things, they helped each other forget the rest of the world for a while and then they both parted with a smile on their face. What was wrong with that?

Love only ever led to pain for her. This was better.

And it started so simply. Usually she spent months pining after a man she liked before she got the courage to get their attention. Granted, for some reason, they were usually… attached when she noticed them. She still thought that it was just an unhappy coincidence that she had only ever been drawn to men who were taken, but after it happened for the third time, it was becoming slightly disturbing.

Not Bishop though. It was very freeing to know that there was no scorned woman who would come after her or no wife that he would return to when he had his fun. This felt more… equal. More comfortable.

She did sometimes wonder whether he had an acquaintance like this 'in every port', so to speak. But surprisingly enough, it wasn't jealousy spurring those thoughts. It was almost like an idle curiosity.

Everything about their relationship, if she could even call it that, felt so light. So unencumbered.

She still remembered how easy everything was, even in the beginning.

…

The tavern was quite lively that night.

There were always more travelers in Falkreath in the spring and the summer. It was like everyone was clamoring to get a piece of the sunshine and pleasant forest air. Well… every traveler. Foreign travelers mostly. Nords didn't usually come for the heat.

It was another evening that went just the same. She wasn't doing any better in the city. She had come here with big plans about starting her own business with exotic goods, but beginnings were always hard. She didn't have the right contacts, she didn't know the right price ranges. She just tried her best out here, relying on goods from travelling merchants that she could resell in town for profits. It's what the other merchants in town advised her to do before she could make a name for herself. But… it was so little money. And so often she just got duped into buying expensive things which turned out not so valuable when someone more experienced examined them. She didn't want to sell crappy goods to her neighbors! That was NOT the name she wanted to make for herself.

So here she was. Yet another evening of her washing the dishes in Dead Man's Drink because she couldn't afford dinner. At least Valga allowed her to do that. If nothing else, the people in Falkreath were very nice. She did feel good here. And once things picked up, it would be the best home she could ever hope for. And in time, she could hopefully find someone special to share it with. She had been even less lucky in that regard than in her business.

She chased away the idle thoughts as best as she could and concentrated again on stacking the clean goblets and tankards back on one of shelves of the bar counter. Not for the first time that evening though, she felt eyes on her as she did.

It was nothing new tonight. The stranger sitting by the bar had been looking at her all night.

Not that she minded. It was just a glance here and a look there. There was obviously something he liked. And she had to admit to having snuck a few glances of him as well throughout the evening. He was really quite handsome. A traveler, without a doubt. She hadn't seen him here before. Then again, she'd only been in Falkreath for a few months now.

She stepped towards the other side of the bar, right near where he was sitting, and she began stacking tankards there. Granted, she could have just left them in one place, but… she wanted to come closer. Her cheeks flushed instantly when she felt his eyes on her again.

She determined herself to look up briefly and she shot him a very small smile before she got back to stacking the dishes. Their eyes met in that brief moment. His was the shade of amber. Really quite lovely. Too bad that he wasn't a local. But maybe he was here to stay?

"Can I get another?" His voice suddenly interrupted the oddly silent and secluded space they were in. It wasn't really secluded – there were people all around, by the bar, behind the bar, all over the common room – and the place was far from silent. But it still felt like it, oddly enough.

It took her a while to realize what he was asking for. Only after a few more seconds than was necessary, she finally noticed the empty tankard on the bar which he had nudged closer to her.

"Oh," she smacked her forehead for being so absentminded before she gave him a wry smile. "I'm sorry, I cannot do that. I'm not allowed to handle the drinks."

The man tilted his head and raised his brow at her with a confused look on his face. But there was an indisputable smirk of amusement on his lips as well.

Alright… that may have sounded weird.

"I mean… I just clean the dishes," she chuckled. "Valga would have my head if she suspected that I over-served people or something."

"She has a person just for washing dishes?" the man smirked. "You'd think she's running the Blue Palace kitchens instead of a backwater tavern."

She smiled at him a little again, but she wasn't exactly thrilled about the direction this conversation was taking. Some people were already giving her pitiful looks whenever she needed to take another shift in exchange for dinner. She didn't need that from strangers as well. But she didn't want to seem like she didn't want to talk to him either.

"No… I volunteer more like," she cleared her throat a bit uncomfortably. "Sometimes it's tough to earn money in a 'backwater town'," she tried to smirk at him teasingly, but she suspected that her insecurity about this matter was all too palpable anyway.

"Yeah," he nodded. Surprisingly enough, that was it. No look of pity, no 'aw, you poor thing' or anything like that. He just seemed… understanding. It was certainly refreshing. "It's a good idea," his lips quirked up slightly into a smile.

It WAS a good idea. Why should she let her pride get in the way of supporting herself? She had her own house, she was doing this all on her own. She shouldn't be ashamed of any of it. She worked for food as everyone else did. She just went straight to the food, skipping the money part. It was not as if she was a beggar.

She gave him a bright smile in return. She liked this one. She really hoped that he was a new resident. It would have been unusual though.

"I'm Ysolda," she inclined her head.

"Bishop," he nodded back at her. An odd name for a Nord, but she kind of liked it. Now she just needed to find out what she was dying to know.

"Did you move here? Or are you just passing through? I don't think I've seen you before," she quickly started to stack the dishes again as she asked the question, pretending to be hardly interested. It was just small talk after all.

"Passing through," he shrugged. That was a shame. Just a traveler then. She hoped that she could get to know him better. "Haven't been here in a while," he mused after a moment, more to himself than to her.

"What do you do?" she asked curiously. Maybe he was a merchant. Though he certainly didn't look like one.

"Mostly hunt. Sell off meat and pelts," he replied with idle nonchalance. Well… that was kind of like being a merchant. Although not really. Maybe he was here to hunt in the Falkreath forests. A hunter would know that a forest is sometimes JUST a forest, not a cursed place filled with death. She wanted to see the forest depths one day, but… she had to admit, as much as she didn't care for the fear-mongering in Falkreath, there were still the idle thoughts in her mind: 'what if they were right'? Besides, any forest was dangerous to an extent, due to the wildlife. She just never understood why this one got such an eerie reputation among the locals. Nobody in the Rift had ever said that the forests there were 'teeming with death and suffering'. And she often walked the outskirts of it, near the city. It was a beautiful place, so hidden from the rest of the world by the lush canopy.

She wanted to ask him about it. Ask if he was hunting in Falkreath, but unfortunately, she had been interrupted by Valga who came to ask her to work on a batch of bowls that she needed urgently.

Well, she would get a chance to talk to Bishop more later.

She hoped so at least.

…

The evening had turned out to be much more pleasant than she had expected.

Valga was keeping her busy, but whenever Ysolda had the time, she stopped by the bar to talk to Bishop a bit more. He didn't talk all that much, she did most of that herself, but she still liked his company. She wasn't sure why she was so eager – he was a traveler, it wasn't going to become anything significant, but… maybe it didn't have to be. Maybe it was enough to just have a nice evening with someone new. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

She did, at one point, note the ring on his finger which gave her a fright. Not for the fact that he might have been married and obviously flirting with her and ogling her – he was married, not dead. But it was much more disturbing that the only men she had ever had her eye on were always married or committed otherwise. And this would have been the fourth one. There must have been something wrong with her. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

It took her an embarrassingly long time before she realized that the ring was on his left hand. That was not where Nords wore wedding bands. And it didn't even look much like a wedding band with that whole wolf head carved into it. She was just being paranoid.

Reassured by that realization, she continued to make small talk and inconsequential comments to him throughout the evening. It was very pleasant and it was flattering to have him look at her as often as he did. Which she reciprocated, of course. He was quite a sight as well.

She missed this. The glances, the heat in her cheeks. She always loved the beginnings. If only it could stay that way.

But this was good. He was going to leave. She wouldn't have her heart broken this time. There was no harm in indulging in some casual flirting tonight.

"So, red, when are you off?" Bishop asked when she got a minute again to stop by the bar and chat with him.

"'Red'?" Ysolda giggled as she subconsciously ran her hand through her auburn hair. She took up an indignant tone next and stuck her nose up at him. "Sir, have you already forgotten my name?"

"'Sir'?" Bishop smirked at her. "Have you forgotten mine?"

Ysolda chuckled heartily at the exchange. She definitely didn't forget his name. She wasn't sure if the same was true for him, but she didn't particularly mind either way. They have JUST met after all. She flipped her hair a bit and stepped a little closer to where he was sitting. She felt her cheeks flush again as she fiddled with the apron fastened to her dress.

"Why do you want to know when I'm off? What are you planning?" she bit her lower lip teasingly.

Bishop leaned in closer as well, towards her ear. The proximity made her breath hitch in her throat and his voice suddenly sounded a lot lower and... seductive. "What aren't I planning?"

She stepped back from him a little and resisted the urge to fan her heated cheeks with her hand. He was really attractive just then. Well… he was always attractive, but she was feeling more and more drawn to him by a minute.

"It's a damn shame that you're not staying here," she let out a sigh as her eyes remained fixes on his. He was giving her such an intense look just then.

"Well… I'm staying here tonight," Bishop gave her a meaningful look that could only mean one thing. It WAS tempting. It really was. But would that be it? She never stayed with a man for only one night before. Whenever she liked someone, she always liked to imagine their life together. But she wasn't imagining that now. In fact, all night, she had been imagining only one thing when it came to him. Only one… night. Was that wrong?

She fidgeted a bit on the spot, uncertain how to respond, before Bishop gave her a somewhat confused look. "What?" he asked.

"And then what?" she almost whispered the question. Did she even want it to be anything more? She wasn't so sure anymore.

"Nothing?" Bishop's brows creased and his tone was surprisingly gentle. "Isn't it simpler that way? It's just some fun, if you want. There's no need to complicate it."

Maybe he was right. Maybe it WAS better. There would be no attachments, no heartbreak when they parted. It was tempting and… there was nothing wrong with that. She wanted this man and she knew that she couldn't get a 'happily ever after' from him already. There would be no disappointment. No reason to say 'no'. No reason not to indulge. It wouldn't prevent her from finding happiness from a committed relationship one day when she really wanted it. She wasn't even sure if she wanted it now, after all the heartbreak.

This was a good idea.

"Give me an hour?" she smiled at him demurely.

It was just some fun with no complications. Perfect.

Maybe it could be a nice distraction from her worries. And if they were… compatible in that way, maybe it would be fun to repeat the experience if he ever passed through the city again. There was no harm in that after all.

It sounded so simple.

Just an innocent dalliance.

…

She stretched out on the bed languidly and Bishop stepped closer again with a smirk on his face. His eyes roamed over the uncovered parts of her body for a while before he bent down to give her one last kiss.

She craned her neck from the bed and met his lips eagerly. It took a while for them to part, but the time came nonetheless. Bishop straightened up again and he shot her a small smile.

"I'll come by when I'm back in town again."

"Good," she chuckled at him. "I'll be here."

Bishop nodded with a smile on his face and he turned on his heel. She wished that he could have stayed one more night, but he probably had places to be. She didn't know where. But it didn't matter. She didn't really want to know. This way, she wouldn't have to worry if he was doing something dangerous, or wonder who he was with. She knew nothing about him so she couldn't obsess over his life without her. There was nothing to obsess over.

He was out of the door within seconds and out of her life again.

Now it was time to return to reality, unfortunately. Back to toiling again as she struggled to sell all those goods from that Argonian merchant. She still couldn't believe that she had gotten fooled like that. 'Exotic potions from Black March' her ass! Those were simple concoctions. And now she needed to convince someone else of the same ploy if she wanted to eat this month. It cost her so much. She should have known better.

The troubles were already seeping into her mind and she flipped over on the bed, head buried in her pillow, and groaned. The sound was muffled, but her frustration was palpable. And she was so carefree just a few moments ago.

That was the problem with these distractions.

As effective as they were, the effect didn't last that long.

…

Ysolda ran her hand idly along Bishop's bare chest, tracing the contours of his pecs.

Another enjoyable evening was coming to an end all too soon as they lay in her bed, too tired to do anything else after being entangled all night. They've had this routine for months now. He came to Falkreath every now and then, sometimes once a month, sometimes even as much as once every week. She never knew when he would arrive, but he always ended up by her doorstep by the night. He didn't even bother getting a room at the inn anymore.

She felt a little disappointed every time the morning came. And she knew that he did too. It wasn't anything more than it was supposed to be, she wouldn't even consider him a friend, but… that didn't mean that they didn't have fun and that they couldn't miss that fact. It was nice. No overwhelming sorrow, no constant wondering when he would finally come back – it was like a thought, in the back of her head: 'I wonder when Bishop will come by again.'

And she couldn't help but find the unexpected visits a little exciting. Not knowing when he would be back had a certain charm to it. The anticipation was tantalizing in its own way.

She ran her finger over one of the scars on his chest slowly. He had a lot of them, for a hunter. And nothing that looked like claw-marks either, which she would have expected. This one in particular was old and healed, but it did look a bit redder than the others. It must have been a bit more recent.

"Where did you get this scar?" she mused idly.

"Don't ask about the scars," Bishop grumbled surprisingly morosely. Perhaps she had touched a sore spot. Literally and figuratively. "You don't wanna know."

That made her a little defensive. Sure, they barely knew anything about each other's lives, but it didn't mean that she didn't care at all. It wasn't as if she was against knowing more about him. But maybe she was overthinking this. Maybe it was really better this way.

He probably had more experience with this than she had. He was the one readily tempting her into a one-night stand after all. And with him being a traveler, it couldn't have been his first casual relationship like this. Perhaps it was one of many. She wondered about that at times.

"Do you do this with a lot of other girls?" she asked, but she tried to make extra sure that the tone of her voice didn't betray anything that she didn't want it too. It wasn't as if she would mind if he did, after all. She was curious. He was kind of a mysterious stranger, like from some silly story book. Who wouldn't be curious?

"'This'? What we do?" Bishop asked her in turn. He didn't seem as morose at this question as he was at the previous one, but he still looked a bit caught off guard. Maybe that was too much information as well.

"Sorry… I shouldn't have asked," she bit her lower lip apologetically as she patted him on his chest gently in reassurance. "I didn't mean anything weird by it."

"I don't mind," Bishop smirked at her a little uncertainly. "Just not sure how to answer. Sometimes I meet someone during the travels," he shrugged. Of course. It only made sense. She had suspected as much after all. Why would he deny himself?

After a moment of silence though, he spoke again. "But not what we do. Not… you know, coming back."

Oddly enough, that made her cheeks flush. She felt a little… special, for some reason. He never returned to anyone? Maybe nobody else asked him to. Maybe others were too used to these dalliances, unlike her. But what was wrong with seeing him again whenever he was in town? They both enjoyed it.

Bishop leaned his head towards her when she didn't answer and he planted a brief kiss on her lips. She was caught off guard, as lost in her thoughts as she had been, but she was brought back to reality quickly when Bishop sat up on the bed, letting her hand fall from his chest.

"I should probably head out," he nodded at her and he was up on his feet within a second.

Ysolda wasn't sure why it suddenly made her a little sad. Why? This was what they were doing, right? Just fun.

Maybe the fact that she kept thinking about this 'arrangement' should have been a hint. Maybe… maybe she did want something more. She should have been used to this more by now, after all this time. But somehow she still wondered. About him, about… everything. She kept convincing herself that there was nothing wrong with this and there wasn't. But… that didn't mean that she wasn't longing for something… different as well.

But one thing she knew. Whatever it was that she wanted, it wasn't with Bishop. She liked him, she did, but not only were their lives quite incompatible, but something was definitely missing.

There was rush, there was lust, attraction and even general fondness. But that wasn't it.

She had been in love before. The all-consuming, overwhelming feeling. When she couldn't think of anyone or anything else.

She wanted that. She wanted someone who made her feel like that.

But those that did, had only ever broken her heart. They only left her, only hurt her. And she never saw it coming.

For now, this was better. But she knew that there had to be more to her love life than this.

More than a casual dalliance.

Bishop was already dressed and he slung his pack onto his back in a familiar motion. Ysolda quickly followed and draped her dress over her head. She didn't bother with anything else. She just wanted to get some fresh air for a minute.

If the distraction didn't manage to keep her mind blissfully unencumbered, the sight of that serene forest always did.

She followed Bishop to her threshold and they parted with one more deep kiss. She watched him walk away for a while, but her attention was soon captured instead by the rays of the rising sun behind her back, illuminating the lush trees to the west.

The sight always made her feel at ease.

Another Author's Note:

In case any of you wish to remind themselves of Ysolda's story from the main fic (and from Bishop's perspective), you can find it in the first book, mentioned heavily in chapter LI (51) – A Desperate Plea (this one I really recommend re-reading, or at least the part involving Ysolda) and a sort of an overview in chapter CXLVIII (148) – All Good Things (when Bishop recounts his story).

And there are also very brief mentions and connections to her story in chapters VI (6) – The Wall; XLIX (49) – The Long Road; and LXXV (75) – Precautions, if you want to be a completionist about it ;)