Tolfdir was nice enough to show him the way to the Archmage quarters, then parted ways with him with a knowing smirk. Bishop made his way up the infinite stairs to the rooms they'd be spending their night in.
He strolled in as if he owned the place, intending to tease his girlfriend about the 'cow business' a little bit. Perhaps catch her with her mask down. She was already decent, more's the shame, and sitting at the edge of an admittedly impressive bed.
Bishop opened his mouth to greet her with something awful like 'Cow're you doing?', but stopped himself.
Something was wrong.
She was hunched over the old robes, fiddling with the hem and even though he couldn't see her face, he knew that were eyes were glassy and not all there.
He slowed down his pace, approaching her gently, like an injured animal, then came to sit next to her on the bed.
"So. The new robes fit you well, then?"
She startled. "What? Oh, yes, they do. They are just perfect."
He gently turned her masked face towards him and covered her fidgeting fingers with his own hand. "Then what's the problem?"
Her eyes were... lost. For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then she sighed and looked away.
"You know, I lied to you, about why I wear these robes. Or- at least I haven't told you the complete truth. While I do like the enchantment, that is not the reason why I wear them. It's..." Her head bowed. "Do you want to hear it? It's a long and not very nice tale."
He moved even closer to her and placed one arm around her shoulders. This was important to her, he felt it. "I want to hear everything you wish to tell me, Ladyship."
There was a small, almost imperceptible exhale that signified a smile. He hugged her shoulders even tighter.
"Alright. Where to begin?
"When I first came here, I was already famous, but... I never felt like I belonged anywhere. I- I hoped to find a home at the College. Made friends with the apprentices and the master wizards, worked hard to impress everyone and make myself a good place here. But then it all went to Oblivion in a gift basket." She stared out of the grand, beautiful window in the Archmage quarters.
"Ancano, the Thalmor 'advisor', betrayed us. Tried to gain control over the artefact and I think... I think it drove him insane. There was nothing but lust for power left in him at the end. He didn't even notice how he was destroying the world, just that he had more and more power.
"Savos, our Archmage, tried to stop him, but Ancano just... just blew him apart, right in front of my eyes, like he was nothing. Mirabelle was grievously injured, but still stayed behind and fought to the death to give the others a chance to escape. They both sacrificed everything to save us. And I, the legendary demi-god with the soul of a dragon, could do nothing to stop it. All the Shouts, all the magic I learned, and in the end, it was worthless. I just stood there, a step behind the Archmage as he was killed right in front of me. I left to get the staff that could neutralize the orb's magic, fighting my way through Labyrinthian, while Mirabelle covered everyone's escape with her life. I couldn't even say goodbye.
"What good is power, if it doesn't save the ones you care for?"
She fiddled with the hem of the old robes. The late Archmage's robes, Bishop suddenly realized. 'Dammit!' he swore to himself. 'She wears the robes of the man whose death she blames herself for.'
"Wearing those robes is... was... my penance. I lost this world an Archmage, so I wanted to give it another one and be worthy of his legacy."
Bishop couldn't stand it any longer. "Hildur, ...sweetheart, how could you have 'lost' him? You were not the reason he was killed. You did not kill him, this... this Ancano did."
"I was the one who pulled that amulet off the wall in Saarthal, revealed the hidden passage that led to the orb. I started the chain of events that could not be stopped. The only reason I was not judged, executed by the Psijics Order for re-discovering the Eye of Magnus, was that I didn't know what I've done. Not until it was too late."
Bishop could hear the tears in her voice and was briefly lost. He had no idea what to do with the crying woman. Then he shook his head. It was obvious what she needed, what any crying woman needed and he was man enough to offer it.
He took her fully in his arms. And let her cry.
"Shh, just let it all out, love," he whispered as he held her close, his hand caressing the leather of the mask's hood. But he knew she felt it, knew she took comfort in it, for her arms lifted and entangled themselves in the leathers at his back as she gripped and held him back, hard.
"You didn't know. You couldn't have known how this will all end. You did everything you could to stop it, prevent it. No one blames you for what happened. No one blames you for starting it, or for how it ended." He continued to whisper to her, even as he felt her shake her head, hidden in the crook of his neck.
She simply clutched him tighter and allowed herself to mourn.
It was a while before either of them felt like moving. Even then, Bishop felt almost lost when she pulled herself away from his arms.
The sky outside was already dark, and the constant hum from the Hall below them that he only now became aware of, quieted.
They took their bath in turn, just as luxurious as she promised. When Bishop came out of the bathing area, Hildur already doused all but one of the candles and stood near the display case that now held the old Archmage's robes.
He silently walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. It was a testament to their familiarity with each other when she didn't even flinch or show any surprise.
"Promise me you won't blame yourself anymore, Hildur," he whispered in her ear.
"I'll try," she whispered back softly.
He smiled and placed a small kiss on her temple. Or, better said, at the edge of her mask.
It didn't matter if his lips only met metal. She felt the intent behind it anyway.
She shook a little in his arms, and he worried that he overstepped his bounds, or that she started to cry again, but then he realized she was softly, if a bit sadly, laughing. "Hah, I bet Hevnoorak is getting more action in death than he ever got in his life."
Bishop couldn't help his startled laugh. Then he shook his head, "I'm glad you feel better, Ladyship. You must be, to tease me like this."
He let go of her with a fond smile and went to lay down in the huge, comfortable bed fit for a king. He relaxed into the plush mattress with a small groan of relief, while Hildur extinguished the last candle and made her way to bed by memory.
Despite the large window, the room was almost pitch black, mostly due to yet another raging blizzard outside of the College walls. But here, everything was quiet.
Bishop thought that he could easily get used to this. Warm, comfortable bed, Karnwyr curled up by his legs, and an amazing, strong woman making her way to join him.
Even though he still hasn't seen her face, it somehow didn't matter to him so much anymore. So long as he could enjoy her company, it was enough.
Then, to his great shock, he heard a metallic clang from the direction of the bedside table.
"Hildur?"
She did not reply but crawled under the covers next to him.
Bishop couldn't help it, he reached out towards her. Touched her face. "Did you just take your mask off for me?" He knew his voice turned gentle and soft, but he didn't fight it, didn't want to fight it. "Does it mean I get a kiss now?"
"You haven't won yet, ranger-danger. The mask is off but you can't see my face," she whispered mischievously.
Bishop just laughed and pulled her to him, "Come here, you little cheater!"
And then he knew. Her lips tasted as sweet as her laughter.
It was a shame that the wench woke up before him. Really.
Bishop wanted to catch her with her mask down and finally claim victory. But her sweet kisses and warm embrace soothed him into a deep sleep, from which he woke to the sight of metal, unfortunately.
At least the breakfast was great.
"I can feel your smug grin, you know," he grumbled as they took the other staircase down. "One of these days, I'm going to get that mask off you. Just wait and see."
She did not respond with words, but her step had extra spring in it.
And her hips swayed a lot more.
'Mmmm, I could get used to this.' The female robes made a lot of difference in her overall appearance. She might have still been covered head to toe in heavy fur-lined robes, including Dragonscale gauntlets and boots, but the robes fit her better. Deliciously so.
Or maybe he was just that starved. That was possible too. Damned tease.
'Perhaps I could tease her back,' he thought with an evil grin.
"You do realize that walking behind you just gives me more ideas of what I'd like to do to you, right?"
His illustrious Ladyship almost missed a step and only caught herself at the last moment. Then she straightened "Do what? You want to spar?" she asked, faux-innocently.
"Heh, 'spar' she says. We can spar on my bedroll, woman. I'd love to have you under me, writhing, panting..."
"Aaand you're sleeping alone tonight. I'm leaving you for Karnwyr, he can warm my bed."
Bishop just laughed, knowing by now that she was both embarrassed and pleased. "You tease."
"You started it, ranger-danger."
That might have been what she said, but if she wiggled her ass any harder, Bishop was going to have an embarrassing episode of his own.
"Anyway, I still need to go to the Arcanaeum, then say my goodbyes to Master Tolfdir and give him my modified Soul-link Rune Spell. I hope you enjoyed the luxuries because we will start our journey to Solitude later today."
Bishop only shrugged his shoulders. While pleasant, he was more of an outdoors kinda guy anyway. Perhaps not during a blizzard, but as long as he had his Ladyship to keep him warm...
"What do you need from the Mage Library anyway?"
"Oh, I don't need anything," she replied with a voice so full of mischief that he started grinning himself in reflex. "I just have a little something for the Arcanist."
She walked into the book-filled room as if she owned it. The rest of the mages must have known her well enough already, for most heads lifted to surreptitiously watch as she approached the cranky looking Orsimer.
"Hey, Master Urag, do you want an Elder Scroll?"
Bishop was still laughing when they met Tolfdir in the courtyard sometime later that day.
The old man just shook his head at them. "Please be more gentle with our Arcanist, Archmage," he scolded gently. "He is old and surprises of this magnitude don't do him any good."
"To the contrary, Master Tolfdir," she grinned behind her mask. "I don't believe I've ever seen Master Urag so... animated."
The wizard laughed. "Just watch it that he doesn't get so animated that we have to re-animate him."
"Oooh, Master Tolfdir, your puns are simply drop-dead gorgeous."
Bishop just groaned and face-palmed. Amazing, what he was willing to put up with for love.
He froze for a second. 'Love'? He looked back at Hildur. Could he actually be in love with her?
It sure seemed that way.
What started as a whim, born of boredom and curiosity about the weird stranger quickly became something more. Something he didn't expect.
He tried to imagine life without her... and he couldn't. He- he didn't want to go back to the way things were before. Just him and Karnwyr against the world. Not when he now knew what it was like to travel with someone he could trust, someone who understood him.
Life without her jokes, and horrible little songs, dancing and laughter, without her warm embraces and companionable silences, life without her suddenly seemed empty and desolate.
He even got to know new people. People who didn't see him merely as a means to an end, but actually treated him as a person for once, if only by his association with their boss.
He didn't want to give it up. Whatever this thing between them was, it was worth fighting for.
His only hope now was that she felt the same.
Bishop watched her as she almost imperceptibly, unconsciously turned towards him, to see his reaction to her jokes and smiled.
Perhaps it was not as impossible as he thought.
His thoughts were interrupted by the old wizard's chuckles. Then the Mage responded, "Anyway, I have received news that another group of Anomalies was spotted down in Falkreath. It would be in the best interest of the College to ensure no innocents were harmed by them."
"Also," he added sheepishly, "Before you leave, could you please help me, my dear? I seem to have misplaced my alembic again."
A/N: One of the main things that... bother me about the romance between the DB and Bishop is the lack of social connections Bishop has. Being the 'lone wolf' archetype is one thing, but Bishop literally has no connections other than you and that's just not healthy. This is my attempt to modify it a little bit. For him to open up to more than just the DB who, while not exactly a social butterfly, at least has friends and allies and companions and acquaintances.
A lone wolf might be a sexy archetype, but I'll replace him with a healthy wolf any day. After all, wolves are social animals.
Also, why does everyone always mourn Kodlak, but no one ever mentions Savos? They are both the same, basically (man in power who made a mistake when young, dies to protect you/his people and move the plot along) yet no one ever mentions him after you find him in that courtyard. I liked Savos and honestly, his death hit me harder than the death of a companion who doesn't fight anymore but considers it an honor to die in battle. At least Kodladk got to go to Sovngarde as he wished. Yet everyone forgot about Savos as soon as he died...