A/N: Snowberry song is the old Spider-man theme: watch?v=SUtziaZlDeE

The 'mysterious transport' mentioned in this chapter comes from the Soul Forge Mystic Arena mod at Skyrimnexus.

Also, guess who's coming up next? :D

"Hey, Bish, you know what I just realized?"

"What is it, Ladyship?"

"That I really don't want to sit around for a week doing nothing. Especially not in bloody Windhelm of all places."

Bishop scoffed. "What, the ever-present stench of oppression and racism not good enough for you? Or is the patronising arrogance of the most proper Nords that ever properly properred not to your liking?"

"That's not even a word, man!" She laughed. "So I guess Windhelm is not your favourite place either?"

"Nooo, not at all, Ladyship. Who wouldn't like conceited bigots who pretend they are better than everyone else just because their city is a touch colder than the others?" He took a good long drink of his ale and fixed her with a look.

"Alright, alright already!" She lifted her hands in surrender. "Especially since I agree with you, for the most part. For the Nordiest town in Skyrim, my favourite people here are certainly not the Nords. That's what I had in mind, actually. We could... start for Winterhold early if you'd like?"

"And put your epic wine-conquest of the world on hold? Perish the thought! Wasn't that the whole point of suffering this city in the first place?" He lifted an eyebrow, then paused with his tankard halfway to his mouth. "Waaaait~! Do you actually want to go and sell the bloody wine before you even have it?" He started grinning, "Ha! I'm right, aren't I? Oooh, this I have to see!"

The Dragonborn fidgeted, then bought yet another Honey Nut Treat from Elda. 'Good thing the girl gets so much exercise', Bishop thought. Then he imagined her beautiful thighs that he so fiercely remembered from their impromptu swim at Valtheim Towers, except this time more rounded; lush and ready to be squeezed, and his eyes turned glassy. 'On second thought, maybe she could do with a little break from travelling and fighting... Damn. I'm getting too worked up over a girl whose face I've never even seen. Get a grip, Bishop.'

"I'm not really selling them the wine as such..." she began, then took a brief look around the mostly-empty tavern.

"Oh? Do tell."

"I... might have discovered a way through which goods can be transported instantaneously across large distances."

"...What?"

"All I'm saying is, there could be a way to have goods delivered to them straight from Windhelm without them ever having to leave the safety and comfort of the College."

Bishop palmed his face. "And let me guess. The first product to test this mysterious instantaneous transportation could be your wine?"

"And a lot of alchemy ingredients and potions too! Not only the wine," the smile in her voice was obvious. "But yes, we could build a link between the White Phial and the College. Remove the risk of damaging precious cargo while in transport and-"

"Save your sales pitch for the mages, Ladyship. It makes no difference to me. I'm all up for travel anyway," he grinned and took another sip of his ale. "But I do admit to being curious. How did you manage it? Did you, I don't know, develop a new spell?"

She shook her head with a self-deprecating chuckle he had never heard from her before. "No, no, I'm not nearly skilled enough for that."

Bishop narrowed his eyes. What was that about? His confident, sometimes even overconfident Dragon Lady was self-conscious of her casting? He couldn't see why. Her skills as a battlemage were certainly impressive.

"I simply discovered an existing method that could be used in new ways," she continued. "I found it in a place called the 'Soul Forge' if you want to know. It is like a place... in between this world and the Aetherial planes. And though I don't use most of its features, the teleportation is pretty nice."

"Wait, are we talking actual teleportation here? As in, whoosh, disappear from one place, turn up in another?"

"Yep." She popped the sound out.

"...You have a way to teleport. And you want to use it to sell wine." He couldn't help it and started laughing.

"I just want to use it to offer extra benefits to people who are not scared of magic!" She defended herself. "I don't know if you noticed, but most Nords aren't exactly comfortable with magic. And if I want to use it as a standardised method of transportation, it would be ideal to have it first tested by people who could handle any potential fallout!"

"Sure, sure, my enchanting sorceress. Sell your wine as an 'educational tool of progress' or whatever. I just wonder why you don't use it to travel everywhere."

"I guess I just like travelling the normal way better," she calmly responded and took another bite of the Honey Nuts. "To be honest, I mostly use the Soul Forge for convenient storage."

Bishop took another sip of his ale before the implications of what she said hit him. "Storage?! You can store things there?" That was when it clicked. "That satchel! You... you stick so many ingredients in your satchel but it never gets full or slows you down. Are you-?"

"Sending it directly into the Soul Forge? You bet I do!" She smiled under the mask. "It's certainly handy when I want to have all my weapons and armours readily available, but don't want to carry them everywhere with me. I just pop over to the Soul Forge and get what I need."

"I'm almost afraid to ask - how much stuff do you have in there?"

He could feel the self-satisfaction rolling off her in waves. "Enough to equip an army and feed a city for a year. I've been working on some extra stasis and preservation spells too," she added, trying to sound humble. She failed.

"Not too well, going by the Jazbay Grapes," he couldn't help but tease.

"Yes, that's why I said I'm still working on them." She nonchalantly took another bite of her treat and innocently added, "But I think the spells are not too bad, to pass eight-months-old Jazbay by a master alchemist for those gathered only a week before."

Bishop just stared. He knew he shouldn't be surprised anymore, but he still was. "You- You tricked-"

"Anyway. I think my colleagues will appreciate the opportunity to test this mysterious new magic." She blithely continued just as Bishop gave up, shook his head and took another sip, "Considering I'm technically their boss, it's sort of my job to bring new and unexplored magic to them."

Another spray of ale on his armour instead of in his belly. Bishop idly thought that at this rate, he'll be forced to stop drinking altogether.

"You're what?"

"Their technically boss? You know, the Archmage?" At his incredulous stare, she fidgeted. "Did I not mention it?"

"No, Ladyship. You did not mention you are the most powerful mage in Skyrim!"

"Oh, come on, Bishop. Don't make this weird!" She pleaded with him. "The title is mostly honorary anyway."

"Oh, really? How many other mages actually develop new spells and discover new magic?"

"The faculty does, certainly. The master wizards have lectures about anything they discover."

"So you rank at least as high as these 'master wizards'. Right. And how many of them have brought magic as new and useful as teleportation?"

She fidgeted but remained quiet.

"Yeah. That's what I thought. Damn, an Archmage." He shook his head and took a gulp of his ale. "What are you even doing running across Skyrim, rescuing wolves and making wine when you're one of the most powerful people in the whole damn country?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Discovering new magic out there in the world. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the type to spend my life locked up in a tower, no matter how impressive."

Bishop chuckled, finished his ale and stood up. "That you're not, my darling Magical Princess. Alright, let's get out of here. The place was starting to feel stifling anyway."

Hildur said nothing, but Bishop knew enough of her by now to see the way she curled up in her stool like a satisfied cat and knew she was pleased.

"~Snowberries, snowberries,
Stop the frost from biting ears,
Chew one up - any size,
The red juices won't attract flies.
Open up!
Swallow some snowberries!"

"Why do you always sing about everything?" Bishop asked, exasperated as he helped her gather half a bush of snowberries.

"What am I supposed to do? Mutter it under my breath? That would just make me look insane."

"Couldn't you just be quiet?"

"No," she quipped back and Bishop got a distinct feeling that if she didn't have the mask on, she'd be blowing raspberries at him. Instead, she chuckled quietly and continued to gather snowberries. Again. This was about the fifth bush they passed today that she gathered that many from. Aside from the ones she just casually plucked as they passed and stuck them in her mask to eat right away.

After a moment, she added in a quieter, softer voice, "It gets lonely on the road, you know. Too quiet." She gave him a moment to respond. When he said nothing, only lifted an eyebrow in curiosity, she continued, "In the past, there were days, maybe even weeks, when the only voices I heard belonged to bandits shouting battle-cries... or Draugr shouting battle-cries. Maybe a dragon or two as well. But definitely no one to have a friendly conversation with."

"And talking to yourself makes you sound crazy. So you created these little songs instead?" Bishop asked as kindly as he could, glad to see her open up to him even more.

One more mask down.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Pretty much, yes."

"Couldn't you have just hired someone to be your companion?" he asked as he popped a berry into his mouth. "Or even just invited someone along. I'm sure there are many who would gladly travel with you."

"I guess I could have. But then, I was involved in... some really dangerous business. I didn't want them to get hurt."

Bishop snorted. "And what am I? Chopped liver? Is it somehow all right for you to risk my life?"

Her voice was soothing, but a bit sad as she responded, "Of course not. But the most dangerous quests are over now. The dragons are leaderless and more-or-less pacified, the vampires are dead for good, I've already killed Potema and Morvarth, Madanach and Silver-Blood, destroyed the Dark Brotherhood, liberated Dawnstar from the nightmares and solved Windhelm's murders, and cleared out countless tombs and caves. Aside from the threat of re-igniting the civil war and some random beasts and bandits, Skyrim should be quiet for now."

She shook her head, "But you have my word. If I ever get involved in something crazy and dangerous again, we will part ways until I have dealt with it. I won't deliberately put you in harm's way."

That made him stop in his tracks. That... was not what he meant. Nor what he wanted.

He tried to quickly do an about-face. "I didn't mean it like that, Princess. You might have noticed by now that I run my mouth a lot. I don't really mean most of it," he admitted with more honestly than anyone else ever heard from him. He tried for a light tone but had a feeling he failed.

"But you do have a point, Bishop. I can't ask you to risk your life whenever I get involved in another suicide mission."

He was starting to get a bit angry. "Well, if they are 'suicide missions', then maybe you shouldn't get involved either."

"Sometimes, it really can't be avoided and the problems must be solved."

"Then let someone else solve them!"

"There is often no one else, Bishop." She shook her head, but her voice was no longer so sad. "And when there's a choice between dying when the world ends because no one saved it and possibly dying in a fight trying to stop the world's end, I will at least try to help."

He quickly stepped around the bush and grabbed her shoulders. "Could we please stop it with the talk of dying? You're not dying anytime soon, not if I have anything to say about it!" He remembered their conversation at Valtheim Towers, about Sovngarde and 'more dead friends than living ones'.

Did she still desire to go back to Sovngarde so much?

Could his company be enough to keep her in this world instead?

Her eyes under the mask were smiling. "You are very kind, ranger. Thank you," she responded, then reached out her hand and brushed her thumb along the corner of his mouth.

He blinked down at her in surprise, then watched as her eyes widened and she tried to turn away with a muttered excuse of 'brushing away snowberry juice'.

This time, he didn't let her.

He pulled her even tighter into his arms. "Ladyship. Hildur. You know I'm here for you whenever you need me. Right?"

For a brief moment, she was tense, then relaxed and hugged him back. "I didn't know that, actually, but it's nice to know you'll follow a nice pair of legs to Oblivion and back," she tried to joke the intimacy away, but he wouldn't allow it.

He held her close for several long moments until he felt her relax in his arms.

"I need to ask, Bishop. What is this... thing between us? What do you see it as?"

She might pretend to be strong, but he could hear how small her voice became. He chose his words very carefully, feeling that if he didn't get this part right, he won't get another chance.

"You're the first person I've learned to trust in years. Maybe in my life. You've become important to me, ...Hildur. I'd like us to... continue travelling together. See where we go from there. See how far we're willing to take this." He picked up one of her hands - soft hands of a lady despite the immense power they wielded, just like the rest of her - and placed a small kiss on the back. "What about you? Are you willing to do the same? To trust me?"

She leaned more into him, laid her head on his shoulder and whispered into his armour. "Yes."

Bishop smiled and hugged her even closer. "Alright then. We will try and see where this goes." He guessed where her chin would be and lifted her face to look him in the eyes again. "And Hildur? No more talk of leaving me behind, agreed?"

She chuckled weakly, "Agreed. Guess I'll have to cancel all my suicide-missions plans, then."

"That you do, Ladyship, that you do." They stood there like that for a moment, smiling at each other.

Then Bishop cleared his throat. "Yeah. So. I'm not exactly a romance kinda guy. Come on. Let's continue on to the famous College. The wine isn't going to sell itself."

Hildur laughed and took a step back.

They continued their journey. And if their hands brushed more often, or if they decided to intertwine their fingers, it was no one's business but their own.