Author's Note

TRIGGER WARNING!

Yes, you probably know what's coming, especially if you remember or re-read the main fic chapters. This whole chapter deals with triggering content, but the more explicit part is designated by an asterisk symbol (*), if you wish to skip it. It's completely fine to skip, you won't miss any important plot details, it's all somewhat recounted again in the next section (after the following '…' sign). Or you might already know what happens anyway from the insinuations in the main fic.

The details about the sensitive content are included at the bottom of the chapter.

I hope you survive getting through this one and thank you for reading O:)

The Serene Forest

Part III – Don't Stray Too Far

Ysolda waded through the thicket idly, looking all over the ground.

It's been three days since Orbul had left for Solitude. She thought about him often, even though they've barely even parted for long. She missed him being always around, knowing that he is always right there, at home, or at his shop – it was comforting.

But it was so nice of him to go out of his way to help her with the deal in Solitude. And with everything, in fact. He had done so much for her ever since she had met him. Sometimes she felt like she was just taking. Like she should be doing more for him too.

She just didn't really know what. She wouldn't even have anything of value without him. And what did she have to offer that nobody else would?

She just had to make do with the little things. She wasn't sure what else to do.

Lately, the people in Falkreath got obsessed with their newest superstition. The rumors about werewolves in the forest had already been old news, but apparently, now someone had decided that there was an ordinary ingredient that could protect one against a werewolf's bite. It was so silly. Yet another evidence of how susceptible the locals were to tales of monsters and curses and death.

But Orbul was right – why mock them when you can play into it? This latest old wives' tale was actually very profitable for Ysolda's fiancé. It was just Mora Tapinella – a common mushroom. Orbul had been selling it for ages, mostly to alchemists, and it grew right there in the forest. But somehow, suddenly, it was a very important mushroom. Orbul's stock of it had gotten depleted within a day and people had been clamoring for more.

It was nice. Good profits. And it only meant more walks to the edge of the forest for the two of them. People were generally too scared of the woods to go picking their own – they much rather waited for Orbul to restock.

The two of them had been going Mora-picking a lot in the morning hours and in the evenings. It was a lovely way to spend time together and, in the end, they had a pretty decent stock of the mushrooms while Orbul was away. Ysolda was tending the shop in his absence and she would definitely need to sell a lot of these again. People had been making ointments from them, potions and salves and some even ate them, even though it could make them sick. It was probably not going to stop until some other superstition took its place.

But it would be nice if she got some more anyway. Orbul only wanted her to sell a certain number of them every day so that the stock wouldn't get depleted on her and people wouldn't get abrasive because of that, but there was no harm in collecting more and earning him more money that way.

It was one of the little things that she could do for him.

Besides, as if walking the forest could ever be a 'chore' to her.

She checked every stump and dead tree that she came across. There were plenty of those to be found and these mushrooms grew around them a lot.

But today, the longer she walked, the more disappointed she got.

Her haul had been kind of pitiful.

She knew that they had picked off a lot of good spots already in the past few weeks and these mushrooms took a while to sprout again, but she was definitely hoping for more. Barely a third of her basket was filled and she had been walking for at least two hours. It would be sundown soon too. At this rate, she wouldn't have found many more before she had to head back home.

Maybe she should head a little further in. She wasn't really supposed to go too far from the city or the road, but everything else was clearly picked clean.

She would just go a little further in. There were sure to be tons of these little mushrooms there and she wouldn't go so far that she couldn't even see the city anymore. She promised. But there was no harm in going a bit further than a few paces away from the city walls, surely.

She would probably hear it if a wild animal was nearby. And what were the chances of bandits finding the one lone person in the entire forest? What would they even be doing where nobody would want to wander in for any reason? Wouldn't they be concentrating their ambushes somewhere more frequented? Like the road? She never really understood why everyone was so scared of bandits in the depths of the forests. What were they doing there? How were they even finding any victims there?

It was ridiculous. Just another exaggeration.

She wasn't going to stray too far.

Just… a little bit further.

…

It was strange.

Why was she feeling so uneasy? Had the silly talks of the townspeople gotten to her?

The forest was as beautiful as ever and she found so many more mushrooms. It was definitely worth it to go a little bit further in. And she could still see Falkreath in the distance, behind the canopy of pines.

So why was she suddenly so oddly paranoid? Just now, she felt as if she heard a faint whisper. And the needles seemed to be rustling a little too much for her liking. It wasn't a very windy day.

She was just being silly. There was clearly no one in the forest, not here, not so near to the city.

Not even wild animals.

How would wild animals even make more than a few struts here? She was seeing large bear traps on the ground more and more often. It was clear that guards were still taking care of this area – keeping the animals away from the town, keeping the citizens safe. There was nothing to worry about. Clearly these weren't the dreaded 'depths of the forest' teeming with mystical monsters.

And thankfully, by keeping her eyes constantly on the ground, looking for the mushrooms, she never got caught off guard by one of the traps. That would have been really nasty otherwise. That thing would probably break a bone with the snap, if not take the leg right off. Not to mention, she had no idea how she would get out of one.

But she didn't need to worry about that. The bramble was pretty thick, but she could still spot them all. They glistened in the slowly setting sun and the distinct metallic color was easy to pinpoint in the dark green thicket.

Her basket was almost full now. She just needed a couple more and she would head back home.

She wandered a little further until she spotted a few stumps and fallen trees in the distance, on a small plateau on a rocky outcropping.

She quickly rushed towards the one place that looked easily scalable. There was a mostly grass landing there between the rocks, but she saw the familiar glint under the grass there.

A bear trap. In the one place she needed to step. Going around would take some actual rock scaling and she wasn't really confident that she wouldn't slip and cut herself on the stone or something like that.

Hmm… surely she could figure out something else.

She looked around, pondering deeply, until an idea struck her. She grabbed a loose rock, a somewhat large one, from the outcropping and walked carefully towards the trap. She hovered the stone above the central trigger before she finally dropped it down.

The loud clank of metal made her jump up in a start, even though she had expected it. She still hadn't expected it to be that loud.

But the trap was now safely disarmed.

Wait… did she just hear something again? It sounded like… someone chuckled?

That was ridiculous. She was really getting paranoid. Stupid old wives' tales. They were really getting to her. She would just pick off what she could find at the small plateau and head back home.

She glided through the thicket, past the trap, and looked around the plateau.

There it was again. It sounded like a snicker. And the rustling of trees got a bit more intense, but… it was just in her head.

She took a step forward, but suddenly, she felt something.

Behind her back.

Before she could even turn around, a strong arm yanked her violently. Her cry of shock got instantly muffled by a hand landing over her mouth, covering half of her face, including her nose. She couldn't even breathe as she only let out a huff against the skin pressing into her. The other arm yanked her even closer, pulling her flush to someone's chest.

"Hehe!" There it was again! That familiar chuckle, now right next to her ear. The sound sent chills down her spine and she began to thrash and struggle instinctively, but it was no use. At least the man's hand over her face moved enough so that she could breathe out of her nose, but it didn't feel much better – she still felt like she couldn't breathe, letting out ragged huffs of panic. "What a clever little fox, takin' care of the trap like that," the man laughed heartily at her.

Gods, who was this? What was happening?

She continued to struggle wildly, barely even registering what was happening around her until she noticed two other figures step into her line of sight. Two men, both clad in leather armor and armed to the teeth.

Bandits?!

So close to the city?

"It's a bear trap, you dumb fuck," one of the man laughed at the one holding her. "Not for trappin' pretty little foxes. You gotta catch those off guard," he smirked meanly at her.

Ysolda wasn't even able to think straight as she tried to thrash and free herself helplessly. He was so strong and she could barely move in his grip.

"Guess we did, didn't we?" The man holding her laughed into her ear. He pressed his face to her temple then, making her stomach flip in revulsion. Gods, he smelled so bad. But even if he didn't, she knew that she would be feeling sick to her stomach anyway. "Right, little fox?"

What did they want from her? Why would they ambush her like this? She didn't have anything! No money, no fancy equipment or jewelry. Besides her engagement ring. She loathed the idea of parting with it, but anything to get away from this situation.

"We've been waitin' for this, pretty," the third man grinned at her.

What?! 'Waiting'?! For me?!

She didn't understand anything. Who were these men?

"The runner said you'd be wanderin' here alone today," the man chuckled. "Really presentin' yerself on a silver platter, ain't ya?"

What 'runner'? She had no idea what he was talking about. Was somebody watching her?

She tried to thrash again, but it was in vain. She tried to scream, but her cries were so muffled, nobody could ever hear her. The sound was barely even loud enough to reach these men.

"She's a feisty fox," the man holding her laughed again. "The boss is gonna love her."

'Boss'?! What boss? What was happening?!

"Yeah," the second man nodded thoughtfully and a small frown formed on his face. He seemed to think hard about something for a bit before that expression got twisted into a disturbing grin. "I don't want her all used up again when he's done with her. How about we have some fun now?"

What? What was he saying? It wasn't what it sounded like, was it?

Oh Gods, please don't let it be that.

She shivered violently and the touch of the man holding her suddenly became even worse, as if his mere presence caused her skin to crawl unbearably. And all the men just cackled, practically in unison.

"Not a bad idea," the man with his arms around her pressed her even closer and she tried to scream again. Tears began to form in her eyes involuntarily and she felt like she would throw up with the way her stomach churned. "But didn't we have something to do first?"

"Oh yeah!" the third man laughed meanly. "We have a message, pretty fox." She could barely see the grin on his face through her tears.

"Tell Bishop that Thorn sends his regards," the second man snickered. "Though I guess you won't get to deliver that message, hmm? A shame."

What?! What was happening? What did Bishop have to…

Did he just say 'Thorn'?!

An almost painful chill shot through her whole body as the familiar image of the man from the wanted posters formed in her mind. She thought that he wasn't real. A concocted image of the horrid man lurking in the woods. Was that a real man? Was that a real person with the bounty on his head that could pay for a mansion in Solitude? All those crimes listed there… was this that 'boss' of theirs? Was she supposed to be dragged off to this man?

"Oh well, no sense crying over it, little fox," the man holding her squeezed her painfully, pressing her arms to her flanks in a tight grip.

"Yeah, cheer up," the third man cackled. "We're gonna have a fun night."

…

* Ysolda's whole body was throbbing in pain.

She couldn't move anymore. She felt like she was only constantly shaking from ache, exertion and despair. Her head was spinning from the lack of air as she desperately tried to breathe through her nose with a hand still held around her mouth firmly.

They all held her down to the ground in a tight grip. There was no escaping, even if she had the strength left to do so. She could only let out exhausted gasps and wails of agony against the hand on her face. She could barely even tell where the pain was coming from. From their tight grip, pressing into her arms and legs? From her back being pinned to the rocks, scratching at her exposed skin as her dress had been yanked down to expose her chest, bundled on her waist? Or from the filthy rough bandit thrusting into her violently.

Whenever she tried to open her eyes, she couldn't even see anything through her tears.

But the worst part wasn't any of this. Not even the confusion still haunting her, prickling at her with endless pleading questions about why this was happening to her.

The worst part was that she couldn't stop imagining what horrors awaited her when this would be over.

The worst part was being unable to chase away that face from the wanted posters from her mind.

She heard all the stories. The stories of people tortured to death, kidnapped and never seen again. The stories of mangled and burnt bodies found on the roads as if to send a warning message to everyone in Falkreath.

Suddenly, she believed them all.

This was what awaited her under Thorn's hands.

And she had a painful feeling that even what she was imagining wasn't even half of it.

Another excruciatingly violent thrust sent a jolt of pain through her spine and she tried to let out a loud wail, but it was again muffled by the hand on her. She could do nothing. There was nobody who would help her. The men only laughed at her feeble attempts to struggle from their grip.

"Fuck…" the bandit between her legs huffed in strained breaths. It was the second one already to 'take his turn' with her. She felt sick to her stomach about the fact that she dreaded more that this would probably be over soon. But she was definitely in for something much worse when it was.

"Fuck, flip her over," he huffed again. She was barely even registering it anymore, barely even getting panicked over what they would do to her. What did it even matter? It was only going to get worse after.

The two men holding her pinned to the rocks grumbled about having something to do, but they quickly went to comply. She felt her arms twisting, their grip on her changing as several hands grabbed her around her waist. She felt that disgusting bandit pull out of her, but even that didn't bring her any relief. It would start again soon enough.

But suddenly something unexpected happened.

In their brief fumbling as they tried to flip her onto her stomach, the pressure of the hand on her face eased.

It was probably pointless. It was probably a bad idea. They might take it out on her in a very painful way.

But what else was there to do?

She felt cold air hit her sweat-covered face and she took a deep intake of it. She had almost forgotten what it was like to breathe properly, but she didn't let herself dwell on enjoying the feeling.

"HEEELP!" The word was barely recognizable, disguised by a piercing shriek. It reverberated through the woods, bouncing off the trees and echoing around the area. It sounded like the whole forest was screaming.

A sharp pain suddenly spread across her face as a hard slap landed on her cheek, and instantly another one on her exposed breast. The cold air was gone again as another hand landed over her face. She wasn't even flipped over yet, the men seemed to abandon the plan instantly after this. Instead, the bandit below her waist thrusted into her again, much more violently than before. She didn't even think it was possible. She wailed in pain and squirmed, but their grips were as firm as ever.

"Still… got… some… fightin' spirit… left in ya… huh?" the man between her legs huffed in between his thrusts. "We… gotta… fuck it… outta… ya."

Another harsh slap landed on her breast and she slumped weakly against the rocks again.

She knew that it was only going to piss them off. For a second, she regretted that decision, but she knew that she shouldn't. She didn't want to give up. As little good as it did, somehow, that little bit of defiance still made her feel a little better. Made her feel a little more like herself again, not like this broken husk in these men's hands.

It was even more painful now. They pulled her hair, slapped her, spit on her, even punched her in her stomach once. Her whole body felt like one huge sore bruise by now. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists tightly as tears continued to stream from her eyes. She didn't know what else to do anymore.

She couldn't do anything anymore.

She didn't even struggle anymore. She laid there, resigned to the harsh treatment, trying her best not to think about what fate awaited her.

It felt like it was going on for so long.

Until she noticed a faint sound in the distance.

As she tried her best to concentrate on it, rather than the disgusting noises that the man between her legs was making, she finally recognized it. At least she thought that she did. It sounded familiar. And… so comforting.

The clang of armored feet. Many of them.

It sounded like something she didn't even dare to dream of anymore.

It sounded like hope.

…

Ysolda slumped down heavily into her armchair by the fire with a blank expression on her face.

She felt like she still hadn't even processed what happened yet.

She was covered in dirt, blood and bruises and… other things that she didn't really want to think about. Her hand was shaking badly as she clutched her dress to her chest. It had been torn by those men and it needed her help to cover her. She probably didn't have to cover herself anymore. There was no point. She was home. Alone. But it still felt more comforting to be covered. Even if the dress was filthy and ruined.

They came for her.

The Falkreath guards had heard her scream for help and they came running. Five of them ran up to the plateau, armed and ready for battle. The bandits were caught off guard, but they still gave as good as they got.

Only two guards remained alive after the battle. She didn't even see what happened. She didn't even have enough strength to watch the fight unfold. She didn't even have it in her to hope that her rescuers would prevail.

But they did.

They helped her up, offered to carry her out of the forest, but she refused. Her legs were barely able to hold her, but she didn't want anyone touching her. Not even her saviors.

They led her back into town, into the streets lit by the lanterns all around. People saw her walk there in a filthy, blood-covered dress and all roughed up. She could feel them watching her, hear them whispering, either in intrigue or concern. It didn't matter. She didn't care about any of it anymore.

She was forced to tell Jarl Dengeir what happened. How she got ambushed so close to the city.

She wasn't sure why she lied. Why she didn't tell him everything that she knew.

She told him that they were Thorn's men; she told him that they had been watching her walking through the forest and then they jumped her.

She wasn't sure why she hadn't mentioned Bishop.

It was still on her mind constantly, but the thoughts weren't actually forming anything useful. She didn't understand anything. How did those men know him? Why did they try to 'send him a message'? As pointless as it was with her bound into the hands of that monster from the posters.

Why her?

She couldn't really think straight. She couldn't even try to ponder on the answers.

She was so exhausted.

The Jarl offered to house her at the longhouse for the night. His servants would help her with anything she needed, they would give her a bath, clean clothes, tend to her wounds and give her some food.

She refused all of it.

She just wanted to go home.

The first thing she did when the front door closed behind her was closing all the curtains on the western windows.

She didn't want to see that cursed forest from them.

She tried to think of something comforting. She tried to think of Orbul. But the only thing she could think about when her thoughts strayed to him was what was going to happen next. She couldn't keep this a secret, even if she wanted to. People knew. He would know soon.

And she wanted to tell him. She wanted him to console her, to tell her that she was going to be alright, even if she didn't believe it.

The Jarl called her 'lucky'.

Lucky.

She understood why he said that. She knew that he was right. Gods, did she know just how right he was about that.

But she couldn't help but feel bitter about that. How could she ever consider herself lucky after what happened?

She still couldn't believe that she was home.

It didn't feel like it used to.

Nothing felt like it used to. Not her house, not the bright future ahead of her, along with her beloved Orbul.

Not those superstitious tales.

Not the serene forest.

There were monsters lurking there.

…

Ysolda took a deep breath when she heard the knock on her door, late in the evening.

She had been dreading this moment for so long.

It's been three weeks since the bandits ambushed her in the forest. Everything had just been a mess since then. She felt strange. Like she wasn't herself anymore.

She felt empty.

Telling Orbul what happened had been harrowing. It wasn't comforting at all. He tried to console her, he tried to be sensitive and to help her however he could. Not that he could. But… it all felt… empty.

She couldn't feel anything else lately.

But not Orbul. While he tried to keep his composure up for her, he couldn't really hide the anger bubbling in him constantly.

And after she had told him everything, his anger was directed at one person in particular.

Bishop.

Orbul was convinced that Bishop had his hands in this. He was convinced that in some petty revenge act for Ysolda ending their dalliance, the man had struck a deal with the bandits to punish her. It hadn't even occurred to her before.

But maybe he was right. What did she know? She knew nothing about the man she used to share her bed with.

At first, Orbul demanded that Ysolda should tell the guards about Bishop's involvement, but… she still refused. She still didn't know anything. None of them did. Maybe it was stupid, maybe she was just being naïve. But she had been fond of Bishop before. He seemed like a decent man, even if she didn't know much about him. She didn't like imagining him doing something like this to anyone. That was just horrid. She got sick just thinking about sleeping with someone who would do that. She desperately didn't want that to be true.

So instead, she and Orbul had agreed.

She would write to Bishop and ask him to come. And they would find out the truth from him.

Orbul prepared himself right after the knocking came. He stood in her bedroom with a dagger covertly clutched in his hand. He was ready should Bishop try anything.

Gods, she really hoped that it wasn't what he thought.

At first, Orbul didn't even want her to open the door alone. But it was not as if Bishop would attack her right there and then, right? The townspeople would see. And he wouldn't have come in if her angry fiancé greeted him at the doorstep.

No, this was the best way to handle this.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, bracing herself for… she didn't even know what for. She had no idea what to expect even if Orbul's theory was true. Even if Bishop knew that the bandits attacked her and got killed, even if he was in cahoots with them, what would he do?

She was never good at reading him. That was understandable. She didn't really know him.

Bishop was leaning on her doorframe, as usual. He gave her a familiar smirk when she opened up for him, but this time, there was an unexpected hint of sympathy behind it.

What? Why?

Did he hear what happened to her? People wouldn't just tell him the second he entered the town, right? Most of them didn't even know about their previous dalliance. They weren't very public with it.

Then it dawned on her.

He had told her to write to him if 'things didn't work out' with Orbul.

He probably thought that she called him over because her engagement broke off. That was a strange relief. It was a much more comforting reception than she had anticipated. It made her a bit more sure that he didn't send the bandits.

But still… seeing him was oddly… painful.

Somehow he had become a reminder of that night, even though she hadn't realized it before. She would never be able to look at him the same way again, no matter what. Their past enjoyable dalliance suddenly felt marred forever.

"Hey, red," he nodded at her slightly.

"Come in," her voice came out a bit more flat than she had intended it to and she quickly turned on her heel. She just needed to get this over with. She just wanted him to tell them that he had nothing to do with this, even if he was lying. She didn't care anymore. Couldn't this just be over? Why couldn't Orbul let this go? She wanted to. She just wanted her life back.

Bishop didn't say another word as he followed her into the bedroom. He closed the front door behind him and silently walked a few steps behind her.

Ysolda instantly went to Orbul's side when they entered the room. He was already seething and she had a bad feeling that this would turn ugly. She wanted to try to calm him down, although she knew that it was probably a vain hope.

Bishop stopped in his tracks when he noticed the Orc standing there. His expression turned uncertain and he stared at them in surprise for a bit, before his face dissolved into that familiar smirk.

"Uhh… red, it was good to hear from you and all that, but… I'm not into that," he chuckled a little.

Oh Gods! Did he think that she invited him in to have sex with her and her fiancé?!

Then again… she couldn't probably blame him for making that assumption. When had she ever invited him in for anything else? Her letter to him didn't really say anything much either. Just: 'Bishop, could you please come visit when you can?' What else would he have expected?

"Shut up!" Orbul screamed at him suddenly. The anger was seeping through his tone so much.

Bishop almost jumped up a little in surprise. His brows shot up in shock, but the second he took in Orbul's expression, his eyes narrowed almost dangerously. There was something in his expression. A strange alertness Ysolda had never seen before. And out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his hand dart towards his belt very subtly.

"You fucking bastard! I will make you suffer for what you did to her!" Orbul yelled again. This caused Ysolda to startle in return. Gods, what was he doing? They agreed that they would talk to Bishop. This wasn't helpful.

She tried to put her hand on his shoulder soothingly, but before she could even move, Orbul lunged at Bishop.

Everything happened so fast. She had never seen anyone react that quickly. The blade in Orbul's hand glinted in the firelight as he rushed forward, but he was stopped short, right in front of Bishop. The hunter had a tight grip on Orbul's dagger-wielding hand in less than a second and he twisted it violently. The next thing Ysolda knew, Orbul cried out in pain and dropped his dagger onto the ground with a loud clattering sound and Bishop's own knife was pressed firmly to her fiancé's throat.

Oh Gods, no!

She thought that that was it. For a brief horrible second, a wave of panic washed over her as she thought that she would lose her beloved.

But Bishop did nothing else. He held the Orc firmly at bay with his dagger pressed to his throat and a hateful expression on his face.

"I wouldn't," Bishop growled at Orbul furiously before he pressed the dagger even more onto his neck in a threatening gesture while his eyes met Ysolda's.

Yet again, she was unable to read his expression. Anger? Confusion?

Betrayal?

This made her feel unpleasantly guilty.

"Please, stop!" she yelped out desperately. She didn't know what else to do. She didn't know if Bishop would actually kill Orbul. She didn't know how to calm her fiancé down either. Gods, why couldn't he have just let this go?

"You think you can get away with this, you bastard?! I will make you pay!" Orbul yelled at Bishop again, but the hunter didn't even spare him a glance. He was still staring Ysolda down.

"Orbul, love, please stop," she pleaded at him desperately. She just needed to get them away from each other before someone got hurt. She threw a pleading look towards Bishop and her next words came out as a choked up whisper: "Please, don't hurt him." Orbul was no warrior, no seasoned hunter. He was a merchant. He probably just thought that he would catch Bishop off guard. But it was obvious that he stood no chance in this encounter.

"What the fuck did you tell him?" Bishop growled at her. It must have looked bad. Like she told her fiancé some awful things about Bishop to justify their dalliance. As if she needed to. Orbul had no issues with her past. Not until now.

"N-nothing!" she stammered hurriedly. "Please, stop! Please, Orbul, please calm down."

She noticed Orbul's tension easing a little in resignation. He must have seen that there was no point in his attack. And Bishop noticed too.

He finally let the Orc's hand loose, but he quickly reached with his boot for the dagger by their feet and kicked it off towards the door, far from Orbul. He still held his own knife close to Orbul's neck, but her fiancé was finally able to straighten up.

He took a few steps back cautiously and Bishop threw him a frighteningly threatening look.

"You take one step towards me and you're dead," he growled through gritted teeth.

Orbul threw him another hateful glare, but Ysolda quickly started to talk again to try and ease the situation.

"I just… I needed to talk to you," she turned to Bishop nervously. Gods, how to even say something like this. Should she just give him that 'message' from the bandits? That felt messed up. "Something… something happened."

"Your friends paid her a visit," Orbul snarled, interrupting her. Although granted, she had kind of stopped talking. She didn't know how to say any of this.

Bishop snorted at him derisively. "I don't have 'friends'. What the fuck are you on about?"

Before Orbul could talk again, Ysolda quickly began to explain with a shaky voice. "I… I was in the forest…" she began and already she saw Bishop's expression change, just at those words. He looked at her intently and he even seemed to have paled a bit. As if he knew where this was going. Gods, that didn't bode well. "I… I got… ambushed… by some… bandits."

"Yeah, there's bandits in the forest," Bishop almost murmured through gritted teeth again. He didn't seem angry now though. Just incredibly tense. "The fuck were you even doing there?"

"I… I was just picking mushrooms…" she shook her head. It was unimportant. She could go to the forest whenever she wanted! What business was it of his? But his expression shifted again at her words. He was looking at her as if she was the absolute stupidest person on Nirn.

Granted, now she really felt like it. Now that she knew. She should have believed those stupid tales. She should have just cowered away from that forest like the rest of the townspeople. She went through all that, all for some stupid fucking mushrooms.

"Don't fucking look at her like this is her fault!" Orbul snapped at Bishop again. "This all happened because of you! I swear, if you sicked those fuckers after her…"

"What?!" Bishop scowled back at him. He clearly still didn't get how this was connected to him. Or he was very good at pretending. Ysolda wasn't sure what to think anymore.

"They… they said… to give you a message," she stammered. She felt an uncomfortable lump in her throat and she just felt like running away right now. But she had to get through this. "That… that Thorn… sends his regards."

If she thought that Bishop looked pale before, she had seen nothing yet. It was as if he was struck by lightning at those words. His expression was unreadable again, but his body looked like it shook as he tensed up.

There was silence. Unbearable, stifling silence while Bishop stared into space, clearly in shock. Did he actually know why this happened or was he just as confused as her?

"So what? A girl dumps you and you fucking send bandits to rape her?!" Orbul yelled at him in fury again. He looked like he would lunge at Bishop once more, but fortunately, he seemed to think better of it.

"What?! No! I didn't fucking send anyone!" Bishop's scowl pierced Orbul angrily, but he still looked very caught off guard regardless.

"How the fuck do the bandits know you then? If you're not their 'friend'?!" Orbul sneered.

"I'm not!" Bishop barked at him. "Those fuckers hate my guts."

A strange wave of nausea suddenly shot through Ysolda. It should have been some kind of justification, some kind of proof of his innocence in all this. But it wasn't. He did know them. He was involved with them, it didn't matter in which way.

He had caused this.

He made sick and dangerous enemies, right outside her doorstep and then he dragged her into this mess without a second thought.

It was his fault.

All that talk of no attachments, no one getting hurt. Just fun. And what did it bring her?

That bastard!

And she wasn't the only one who seemed to have come to this conclusion.

"So it is your fault, you fucker. You will pay for this!" Orbul yelled and once more he looked like he would lunge, until he seemed to have noticed the glint of Bishop's knife, still tightly clutched in his hand and ready for anything.

"It's not my fault! I don't fucking make decisions for them," he growled furiously. He looked like he wanted to continue that trail of thought, but he stopped. Good. She couldn't listen to it. It made Ysolda sick to her stomach to hear this. It was his fault.

Bishop turned sharply towards Ysolda a second later. His angry scowl didn't disappear for a second, but there was a strange unsettling hopefulness in his voice as he asked her a question. "They let you go?"

"No," she answered flatly. She wasn't nervous or anxious about talking about this anymore. She just felt angry now too. "The guards heard me scream."

Bishop seemed to deflate a bit at that, but his scowl still never wavered. He was staring at her intently before he spoke again in a tone that sent chills down her spine.

"You were lucky."

Gods, she wished he wouldn't have said that. She knew that it was true, but it still made her feel horrible to think like that. It just reminded her of all those things running through her head, how she imagined what that Thorn person would do to her.

"Listen to me," Bishop's tone got strangely somber as he continued. As angry as Ysolda was, she suddenly felt very small and frightened for some reason. "You need to leave Falkreath. You need to get out of this place and away from them. The city isn't as safe as it looks when you piss them off."

Ysolda couldn't help but gasp under her breath.

Leave? Just like that? But bandits wouldn't attack her in the city, would they?

Although… she hadn't really felt safe here anymore whether they would or not.

"You're the one who pissed them off!" Orbul barked at him again furiously.

"She got their men killed, I assume," Bishop shook his head at Orbul somberly.

"None of them lived to tell anyone. This is only about you," Orbul growled again. His fists were still clenched tightly in anger.

"If the guards know, they know," Bishop scoffed. "They have people in the city. You need to leave. Go somewhere north."

Ysolda felt like her head was spinning. Like she was going to topple over at any second. They had people in the city? What did that mean? She wasn't safe here. She wasn't safe anywhere anymore. It was not just that horrible forest. They were everywhere!

"And uproot our lives here?! Because of you?!" Orbul bellowed. "Let them ruin our lives like this?! What kind of a solution is that?!"

"A safe one," Bishop growled at him in frustration.

"No! They don't get to get away with this," Orbul's fists clenched even tighter. "They will pay for this. I will make them pay."

Ysolda had barely processed what he had just said. What did he mean by that?

"You're gonna die," Bishop shook his head at him with a flat tone in his voice.

"I will not go alone," Orbul scoffed. Go where? What was even happening now? Ysolda was barely able to think straight. "I will rile up the guards and we'll find those scums. They. Will. Pay. They have been plaguing this land for a long time. The Jarl will help."

"You're gonna die," Bishop scowled at him again with a resolute nod. He didn't seem to doubt that for a second. There was no hope in him after Orbul's words. Gods, he was right, wasn't he? Why else would those bandits still be around if the guards could defeat them?

"This is all on you!" Orbul bellowed again at him. "If you really are their enemy, as you claim, you will help us kill them!"

"Fuck no!" Bishop scoffed. "I'm outta here," he rolled his eyes as if that was the only rational thing to do. Gods, that fucking bastard was probably right. He ruined their lives and now there was nothing else to do for any of them but run.

"You fucking coward!" Orbul screamed so loudly that his voice echoed through the room. "You brought this on her and now you refuse to take responsibility?!"

"What the fuck does getting killed now solve?!" Bishop sneered. "Call me whatever you want, I don't give a fuck. I'm not dying under Thorn's sick hands. Just stop being an idiot for a second and listen to me. You. Don't. Stand. A chance. Even if they give you all the guards in Falkreath, you don't stand a fucking chance. You don't even know where they are and the depths of the forest are Thorn's turf. You're all. Gonna. Die."

Gods, she believed him. She believed every word. Why didn't Orbul believe him too?

"You have no honor," Orbul narrowed his eyes at him with palpable disdain and contempt.

"I can live with that," Bishop rolled his eyes at Orbul with a scoff. There was a second of tense silence when her fiancé hadn't responded again, fortunately, he was just staring Bishop down with hatred. But Bishop turned to Ysolda instead.

His expression was somewhat… defeated.

"I'm sure it's worth shit to you, but… I'm sorry you had to go through that, red," he sighed with a hint of regret in his voice.

He still hadn't admitted that this was his fault though! It was worth shit!

He gave her another regretful look before he shook his head in resignation. "Don't throw your lives away for that freak. Leave this place."

Silence spread through the room again, but Bishop broke it within a few seconds. Not with any more words though.

He turned on his heel and headed towards the door.

Orbul looked like he would go after him, but Ysolda promptly grabbed his arm to stop him. She didn't want this to go on. She didn't want to see Bishop's face anymore and she couldn't handle listening to any of this any longer.

She just didn't know what to do anymore.

Should they really leave?

"That bastard will get what's coming to him eventually," Orbul growled when the sound of their front door closing echoed through the house. "They all will. I promise, love."

"Orbul, no," she stepped towards him and wrapped his arms around his waist. She quickly pressed herself into his embrace. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore. She wasn't sure if she was scared, angry, or just… so tired. Of all of this. "I… I think he's right. We should just…"

"Love, stop," Orbul pressed her tighter to himself. "We will not let a few bandits ruin what we have built here together. We cannot let them destroy our lives."

"We can rebuild," she whispered.

"We won't have to," his hand landed on the top of her head soothingly and he began stroking over her hair. "I promise you, I will take every precaution. I will pay for mercenaries and get guards to help me. That fucker is just some hunter who probably poached on their turf. What does he know? He's just one man. Of course he would be scared of them. But I'll bring an army with me if that's what it takes. And I will make sure that we can live our lives in peace."

It should have sounded comforting. She wanted to believe him. And he was right about Bishop – he was just one man, probably only scared. She was scared too, but Orbul had always been cautious and responsible.

But she couldn't help herself. Bishop's doomsaying was still echoing in her mind.

And she couldn't help but constantly think about one thing.

Even if Orbul succeeded, even if they got rid of the bandits, would she ever be able to live here in peace again?

With that forest right outside her door, filled with fear and suffering.

* Trigger warning: graphic descriptions of a violent sexual assault and rape