Bishop honestly didn't know what to think, as he watched the legendary Dragonborn somehow eat through the creepy mask!
"..."
"Problem, ranger?" the mask didn't change, he knew that, but he could have sworn that it smirked at him.
"Just... how?!" he gestured at her face.
"To be perfectly honest, I don't know how exactly it works either," she responded and somehow took another bite of her baked potatoes without removing the mask. Or even moving it at all. "But that was the main purpose of the mask, so I guess the dragon priest must have figured out some way."
Bishop scoffed. "What purpose does eating through a mask serve?" Alright, he could guess at a couple of reasons - to creep people out on purpose, to make sure no one ever saw their faces and still not be inconvenienced by such a mundane thing as eating,...
"This is the mask of Hevnoorak, which grants full immunity to poison and disease. It would be kind of silly to be completely protected from poison, only to take it off and die of a poisoned dinner. Hevnoorak might have been a monster, but he wasn't stupid."
Ok, he couldn't guess the reason. One of his eyebrows lifted. "Immunity to poison and disease? Damn, that's handy! I wouldn't say no to a mask like that."
"Yeah, well, this one's mine. I looted it off Hevnoorak's corpse myself, fair and square, so you'll have to find your own." She chuckled, "But if I ever find a spare one, I'll send it your way."
"Heh, at least I'm starting to understand why you wear it. If there ever was a reason to hide this face," he gestured at himself, "poison and disease immunity might just be it."
"Oh, no, don't hide your pretty face, how shall the female population survive that tragedy?" she dead-panned and stuffed a piece of grilled leek in the mask.
He grinned at her, "Grouse all you want, Ladyship. I know you find me attractive."
Her hand paused, holding a pit of potato. "I think I liked you better when you called me 'Lordship'."
Bishop leaned closer to her with a small leer, "Oh, Ladyship. You just don't want to admit to wanting a piece of this."
Her snort was clearly heard through the mask. "The only 'piece' I want is my dinner," she waved the bit of potato around.
But he wouldn't be fooled. Not again, not anymore. He might not have the advantage of getting clues from her expressions, but her body spoke for her. The way her shoulders tensed, the jerky movements of her arms, her fidgeting... "Oh, but you do want me, Ladyship. You want me to notice you and look at you. You want this wild wolf to see you as you are. To enjoy my raw animal magnetism-" he couldn't finish his sentence before cracking up.
The Dragonborn, Hildur, huffed and finished the potato on her fork. "Oh, great, I'm travelling with a jester. This should be fun," she groused at him but he could tell she was not annoyed. In fact, he thought she seemed disappointed?
His eyes narrowed and he breathed in deep to calm down.
Could he have accidentally guessed right? Did she actually want him to look at her and see a woman? He thought the mighty demi-god Dragonborn would want people to bow down before her. Grovel at her feet. Not want men to seduce her. He wanted to poke some fun at her, to get a rise out of her and knock her down a bit, but he never meant to... hurt her.
The hints were there all along. He really should have seen them earlier, Bishop chastised himself. The way people reacted to her - reverence, respect, even a hint of fear, but never any desire or true joy at seeing a friend. How she was more amused than surprised when he assumed her gender wrong. How she barely reacted the first time he called her a boy. How she followed a single wolf half-way across Skyrim because she was bored and there was no person around to pique her interest - because she piqued no one's interest either.
It all lay before him and for an instant, he understood what her life must be like - a legendary hero of immense power and renown, yet all alone with no suitors, since no one would even dare to think of her that way for fear of being torn apart by her Shouts.
There was no one to treat her like a wench.
Well. No one ever called Bishop careful. He was willing to give it a go. Give her a go, if she wanted him.
Seducing a creepy iron mask might be a bit of a problem even for him, though. Hmm, he might have to do something about it, even though he had to admit at least to himself that he enjoyed the mystery.
"What's with the mask anyway, Ladyship? I mean, you are among friends here, you could take it off. I doubt old Hulda wants to do you in, right in the middle of her inn." He added with a slightly mean smirk, "You're not ugly under there, are you?"
"...Well, now I definitely won't take it off."
"Why not?"
"Because you're being rude! Not to mention, it is cruel to mock someone's features, especially if you never even saw them yourself. And even if I was ugly as sin, it would still be none of your concern."
"Come on, Ladyship, no need to be ashamed of your ugly face. What is the problem? You an Orc?" he asked with a provocative grin, knowing fully well Hildur was a Nordic name.
She spluttered, clearly offended, but then noticed his smirk and understood he did it on purpose. "You're impossible!" she shook her head, but he could hear the slight amusement in her voice. "But now you've made a strategic mistake, ranger. You see," she leaned in closer to him, and the power in her aura was so strong he almost leaned back from it. "You challenged a dragon!"
"Hmm, I love a good challenge," he countered, trying and mostly succeeding to not feel apprehensive. "Let's make it a game, then."
The mask turned sideways, the Dragonborn clearly interested, "What sort of game?"
He leaned in even closer to her so that they were almost touching, even with the small table between them, "I get your mask off, I get a kiss."
She threw her head back and barked out a laugh, "Ha! What if I'm 'ugly' under it? Won't it offend your delicate ranger sensibilities?"
He guessed he deserved that one. "With a woman as fascinating as you, it wouldn't matter to me," he answered, more or less honestly.
Hildur fidgeted again, then leaned back. "Flattery will get you nowhere." She picked up her mead and took a sip.
"I beg to differ, Ladyship. I didn't even turn it on you yet and I already saw your tits."
She choked on her mead and Bishop was interested to see that the front of her robes formed a wet spot. How on Nirn did that mask even work?!
With growing amusement, Bishop watched as she stuck a hand under the leather cowl attached to the mask, trying to lift it to clean herself up. And then she paused, clearly dismayed when she realized that doing so would make her lose the bet she only just entered in.
"Please, do continue, Ladyship," he waved at her magnanimously.
"You wish!" She snarked back, making his grin grow even wider. He still couldn't see her face, but he'd bet his trousers she was blushing in there. He was starting to really like their game.
This was going to be interesting.