Back in Windhelm
"Two hundred bottles of wine?!"
Quintus smirked, "You're the one who brought me a barrel-full of Jazbay when it's only a secondary ingredient, Dragonborn. I only needed several handfuls to make the test bottles. Once I had them, however, I thought 'Why not?' and prepared some more."
"'Some more', he says. Quintus, half the Inns of Skyrim don't have that much booze in stock! All types of booze combined!"
The imperial man's smirk only got wider. "Then I believe you'll have to try very hard to sell it all, Dragonborn."
"Ooh, you drive a hard bargain, my friend," Hildur intoned. "I shall try my best. You do realize that I will probably give most of these away for free as testers, though. Right?"
"I know, I know." He replied consolingly. "Just be careful, these pack quite the punch!"
"What do you mean?"
The alchemist was getting excited. "It's incredible! Some of the older grapes were so saturated with magic, that it made the wine almost twice as potent in its magical effects as I expected. Please try to remember where you gathered them and if possible, and gather some more of them for me if you could. I'd love to run some tests!"
Bishop suddenly remembered Hildur's 'stasis and preservation spells' and discreetly coughed into his hand.
Hildur fidgeted. "Err... I'll try. Might take a while for them to... grow back, though."
"I know, my friend. Just keep it in mind, would you?"
"Sure. By the way, do you have any of the empty vials ready?"
'Empty vials?' Bishop glanced at her. Just what is she planning now?
"Ah, yes, I cleaned and disinfected them just this morning, Dragonborn. Here you go!" With that, he reached under the counter and pulled out a crate full of small glass bottles.
"Thank you! I'll go fill them right away." She picked the heavy crate as if it weighed nothing and turned to Bishop. "Hey, Bish, do you mind waiting here for me? I just need to go brew some potions, shouldn't take me more than an hour or two."
"Sure, Ladyship. I'll even help you pack your wine in the meantime. Wouldn't want you to miss a bottle, now would we?" he added mischievously.
"Ha! Just don't drink it all, ranger. Leave some for the Jarls!"
He snorted and shooed her out the door. Then he turned towards the alchemist. "So, where's the famous wine?"
As they were packing it, probably to be ported right to that mysterious magical place where she stored all her things, Bishop couldn't help but wonder, "What is she brewing anyway? And why couldn't she do it here?"
The imperial lifted his head in surprise and answered, "Oh. She's just brewing some frost resistance tonics for the Dunmeri and Argonians. Windhelm can be very cold and our neighbours aren't really meant to live in these temperatures."
Bishop paused. "Doesn't it... take away from your own business?"
"Not really. They couldn't have afforded to buy any tonics on their own. If the Dragonborn wants to brew them in her spare time, with her own ingredients and then hand them out for free? That is her business. I only provided the glasswork and clean it up whenever Aval or Niranye bring them back."
He got back to packing the bottles. "Huh. That is still more generous than most merchants I know. You even give some of your own stuff away for free?"
Quintus only offered a small, sad smile. "I might be human, but I am treated barely any better than the 'Greyskins' and the 'Boots'. Not to mention what our Altmer friends have to put up with just to live here." He shook his head. "Windhelm is a cruel and harsh place, one that not many can survive. We have to help each other if we want to make it here. Besides, it was her idea in the first place."
"Huh. Surprising. She doesn't seem like such a bleeding-heart." Bishop shook his head. "She's always more concerned with this wine of hers than what 'the poor people' might feel like." Just look at the verbal gutting she gave to that mageling, or the way she all but ran away from that damned bard.
Quintus paused and gave him an inscrutable look. "Is she? What a cruel world we must live in, where one has to wear so many masks. I would advise you to look at what she does, not what she says."
Bishop opened his mouth to protest because he definitely considered her actions first, but paused.
'...smaller businesses like Evette's... will have problems.'
'...for you, some more Frost Salts.'
'You have given us hope, returned what was stolen from us and forced our employers to pay us fair wages.'
'Before you leave, could you please help me, my dear? I seem to have misplaced my alembic again.'
"Oh."
The alchemist calmly continued. "She set up the whole... system, you could say. Asked me for the glass, gathered the ingredients and uses the alembic at the Palace so as not to block me from brewing my own potions. Aval, Niranye and I simply bring the potions to Revyn Sadri and Scouts-Many-Marshes who distribute them where they are most needed and those in question then bring us the empty vials back."
Quintus pulled out another empty crate to be filled with wine. "To be honest, I think it actually increasedall our sales. There is a lot more traffic from the Grey Quarter up here now, and the Argonians have more money to spend as well. While they are already here, they usually go and look through our wares, and sometimes even buy something. At least this way, not all the money goes to Torbjorn Shatter-Shield or the East Empire Company. And all it took was some of her time, purple mountain flowers and some snowberries."
'~Snowberries, snowberries, stop the frost from biting ears...~'
Did she-? Seriously?! The whole way to Winterhold, the whole way back, she's been gathering the small red berries and plucked every single flower along the way. That's why it took them so long to get back when, with their stamina, they could have made the trip in one day. It was definitely more than 'just a bit of her time'! It was days.
He didn't know what possessed him, but he couldn't stop his bitter words from spilling out, "If these people can't handle life, they should just die already and be done with it! What good does coddling them do? They think they have it bad, with their cosy little houses and assemblages? I've endured much worse as a child and survived with nothing more than branches to keep me warm."
The alchemist kept staring at him. "What a cruel world we must live in, where one has to wear so many masks, even from oneself." He shook his head. "Your lady wasn't always as rich and powerful as she is now. First time I saw her, she was a dirty vagabond with nary a copper in her purse. Yet even then, she helped those worse off than her. Tell me, ranger, if you saw her the way I did when we first met; poor, ill-equipped and on the edge of starvation, what would you have done? Would you have abandoned her to her fate?"
"I-" There was a moment of silence. Bishop didn't, couldn't meet the alchemist's eyes.
Quintus only nodded and turned back towards the wine. After a moment, Bishop joined in but didn't speak.
Maybe the man had a point. Besides, didn't he and Hildur meet when she saved Karnwyr?
For a second, he imagined what he would have done in her stead. What anyone else would have done in her stead. An image of Karnwyr, bleeding to death in some dark, dank pit flashed in his mind. He clutched the bottle in his hands so hard it almost broke.
Maybe it was time to re-evaluate some things in his life. If he wanted to stay in Hildur's life and keep her high regard of him, he probably needed to change his opinions. Once again.
But then, he has already done it once. Giving up on bandit life and all the people he has ever known was a much harder decision, yet it was the best one he had ever made. Changing his world-view a second time wouldn't be nearly as hard.
Not when he already had someone waiting for him on the other side.
Falkreath, Two weeks later
"Hold up. Now that we're in Falkreath, I need to tell you about something."
"Sure. What is it?"
"There's... someone you'd rather not meet. His name's Thorn and he's nothing but a vicious, son of a bitch that needs to be put down like the rabid dog he is. Let's just say he'll take you by force, if he can." He crossed his arms over his chest and couldn't help but feel... something like second-hand guilt. For so much knowing the bastard. "Every time I hear his name mentioned it comes with another sad story of a wench being raped. Look, I was a bandit too, but he is something else. I never liked him. We were pretty much on opposite sides." He shrugged his shoulders. "In fact, he still wants me dead."
There was a moment of silence from her. Then came a hesitant question, "...You were a bandit?"
Bishop mentally rewound their discussion and realized just what he had said. 'Shit!' That's what he got for being too open. He was getting way too relaxed around her! There he went and blabbed about his sordid past to the Holy Saint of All Heroes of Tamriel. Damn, damn, damn! "What? No, forget I said that!"
But the damage was done, he knew.
He sighed. "I- Can we not talk about it?"
She stood there and watched him for a moment. Then her head cocked to the side in contemplation.
At times like these, Bishop really hated that mask. He had no idea what she was thinking about.
She eventually shrugged nonchalantly, "Sure."
Bishop released the breath he was unconsciously holding. Crisis averted. For the time being at least. But he didn't doubt for a second that the topic will come up again. How could it not? This sort of revelation wasn't something people just ignored.
They bought some provisions at the Inn - thankfully without being interrupted by horny wenches, star-struck bards or sleazy mages - and went to deal with the magical weirdness.
He didn't entirely know how to feel about that; his life until now kept him in a safe distance from anything too magical and aside from some necromancers and summoned creatures, he never had much contact with magic as such. But, he supposed dating the bloody Archmage meant he'll have to get used to it now.
The anomalies were pretty easy to deal with, actually. Well, easy when Hildur whipped up a staff and somehow magically made everything well. Then the only thing there was left was to kill the floating balls of light. Not too bad.
It even brought them close to Thorn's cave. Half an hour of a leisurely walk up the hill, really.
Bishop felt shivers run down his spine. His last meeting with Thorn was... He didn't like to think about it. For a moment there he hesitated, wondering if he should have brought Hildur here at all.
What if Thorn overpowered them? What if he overpowered Hildur?
He clutched his bow tighter.
The inside of the cave was even worse. Worse than most bandit hideouts too. Every other room or cage they opened, each new body they found, his unease grew.
Just before they entered the final room, he couldn't take it anymore. "Hildur, wait!"
She turned towards him. "What is it?"
"I- Maybe we shouldn't have come. Maybe we should just turn around and-"
"And what, walk away? Not a chance. I've seen the bodies, Bishop. This bastard deserves to die."
"It's not about him, it's about you!" He wanted to shake her, really. Didn't she see how dangerous this was?!
She watched him for a moment, then sighed and dispelled her conjured blade. "Have you ever fought a Draugr Deathlord?"
"What? No. No, I haven't. I don't think many people still alive have. What does that have to do with Thorn?"
"I fought about thirty of them at Skuldafn. Eight or ten at the same time at one point. While being besieged by dragons from above. All the Draugr could Shout, and did, while they also attacked with master-crafted Ebony weapons."
Bishop just stared at her.
"And then I killed them all, all their underlings, the casters and a Dragon Priest, and then I went to Sovngarde and killed Alduin the World-Eater himself." When Bishop still didn't say a word, she just shrugged, "Yeah, I think a couple bandits won't be a problem."
"That's... Well..."
She shook her head. "I know you want to protect me, and I appreciate it, Bishop. But please don't ever forget that I'm a demi-god with a dragon soul. It does neither of us any good."
Bishop needed a moment to process it. "You really did all that?" At her nod, he only clenched his fists. "Are you insane?! You could have died!"
"But I didn't." Her voice was cold, colder than he'd ever heard. "And now Alduin is dead and the dragons mostly stopped challenging me."
"...Still. Humans are different from Dragons. If you think he's not going to cheat, you're dead wrong."
"Don't worry about it. I have so many enchantments on me that even if he managed to hit me, it wouldn't do much harm." Then she paused for a moment and looked at him, "Hmm, but you don't. That could be a problem."
There was a moment of silence between them while Bishop tried to figure out how and when the conversation got away from him.
"Come with me, Bish. I think it's time we got you some better equipment."
She held out her hand.
He simply stared at her.
She coughed awkwardly and explained. "We could go to the Soul Forge. I can either craft you something, or maybe we can pick something from what I already have prepared."
After a moment, he just shook his head and took her hand.
The magic that washed over him was cold and startlingly bright. When he could see again, he realized they were no longer on Nirn. The moving blue ceiling above their heads was making him nauseous and oddly reminded him of a soul gem. Strange portals and glowing orbs of light dotted the 'room' they found themselves in. And... was that a Dremora?!
"Welcome to the Soul Forge, Bishop," she smiled under the mask, and led him further in, to some chests. "I think I had... Ah!"
She pulled out some amulets. "So, which one would you like? This one allows you to breathe underwater and makes you more resistant to poison. I wore it before I found Hevnoorak. And this one protects against magic in general and makes you more resistant to disease. We could combine it with these rings to give you more overall protection."
He stared down at the jewellery in his hands. "You do realize people would sell their houses to have one of these, right?"
She snorted. "Probably, yes. But I don't really need another house, so I kept these as mementoes. You can have them if you'd like."
"Sometimes you scare me, Princess."
"Good," she nodded calmly, "That means you understand who and what I am and are less likely to underestimate me. Oh, and while we're here, let's get you a better weapon..."
Bishop only shook his head with a fond smile and watched her bring out chest after chest filled with weapons fit for Jarls.
They were back in front of the last room of Thorn's little hideout and thankfully it seemed no one has noticed the string of dead bodies they left in their wake yet.
Bishop tested the weight of his new Dragonbone Bow, checked his quiver full of Ebony arrows and patted down the masterfully enchanted amulet and ring he now wore. 'I'm a walking treasure house,' he thought to himself with a small smile. 'If they manage to kill me, they'll be set for life. But- only if they manage to kill me.' Which somehow seemed really unlikely now.
Even Hildur carried new weapons, thin Dragonbone swords she called 'Akaviri Katanas'. He knew she picked them mostly to reassure him - that she now had a visible, powerful weapon that didn't require time or magic to cast just to 'train her Conjuration'.
Honestly, Bishop appreciated that she was willing to listen to him. His nerves were calm once again. He was even looking forward to facing Thorn now. With a Dragoness at his side and equipment that could buy you a castle, the bandits didn't stand a chance.
"Well, well. Look who's decided to show his face, boys! It seems you come bearing a gift. A peace offering perhaps? Did you think bringing me a wench would make me accept you back? Did you think such a pitiful gift would stop me from killing you where you stand? You never could face me, boy, and you still can't."
Bishop only smiled. "And I don't have to. My girlfriend will tear you to pieces."
Thorn opened his mouth to spew some more bile, but Hildur only chuckled and took a deep breath.
"YOL-TOOR-SHUUL!"
Great streams of flame consumed his vision. Then the screams came. Screams and swinging of her blade. Most of the bandits were dead before Bishop's vision cleared, the rest quickly picked off by his arrows and Karnwyr's bites.
By some miracle, Thorn managed to avoid the worst of the initial attack. The bandit watched with horrified eyes as his 'most powerful companions' were turned to piles of ash or diced into itty-bitty pieces while Bishop and his woman didn't even break a sweat.
He threw one last glare at Bishop, turned and fled down the corridor to the next room and the exit.
Bishop aimer his bow, but Hildur's hand on his chest stopped him.
"Watch this," she whispered to him, then started singing.
"~Brave sir bandit ran away, bravely ran away, away!
When danger reared its ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled!
Yes, brave sir bandit turned about,
And gallantly he chickened out.
Bravely taking to his feet,
He beat a very brave retreat,
Bravest of the brave, sir bandit!~"
Bishop couldn't help it, he started laughing. At the sound, Thorn barrelled back into the room with a scream of wordless rage. He ran straight for Hildur.
Hildur impaled him on her Dragonbone sword, then cut off his head with a single stroke.
"Aah, works every time. Nords," she shook her head.
Bishop just laughed harder.
Once he could breathe again, he wiped his eyes. "Ladyship, I take back everything bad I ever said about your songs. That was perfect!"
Still smiling, he grabbed the unresisting woman, pulled her into his arms and jokingly kissed the mask right on the mouth.
That was when he realized that he could feel lips under his own, not metal.
He pulled back, startled. Equally startled eyes met his own through the mask's eye-slits. He grinned. "Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with this, Ladyship."
"No, you won't!"
"Yes, I will! Looks like Hevnoorak doesn't consider me to be poison, so who am I to argue?"
Hildur squirmed in his arms and made to withdraw, "Bishop!"
His voice - calm but uncertain - stopped her. "Hildur."
When he said nothing else, she slowly turned back towards him.
"Do you really not want me to kiss you? If so, then just say the word, and I will stop. I'm not Thorn, I'd never force you into something you didn't want."
"Of course not!" her hands tightened on his armour. "I know you'd never-!"
"Then why do you draw back every time I try to get close?" It was something he noticed a while ago. "I admit, I like the chase, but... I guess sometimes I need to know that you really want this. Want me."
"I do! I really do, please believe me! It's just... I just..." She hid her masked face in his chest. "No one has ever really been interested in, well, in me. Those that were, were not really the type that I'd consider. So I... I never-"
Aah. Now he understood. With a smile, he hugged her tighter, promising to himself that he wouldn't rush her.
They had time.
"It's alright. I can wait. As long as you need, you know that." An idea entered into his mind. "Actually, why don't we... change things a bit? Make it more interesting?"
"What do you mean?" Her voice was full of suspicion. Smart girl.
"Every time I want to kiss you, I will let you know. Then you can kiss me. That way, we can both be sure that's what we want. Sounds good, Ladyship?"
She fiddled with the hem of his armour, while he watched her, amused. Then, quick as lightning, she gave him a peck on the lips and wiggled herself out of his arms.
Bishop only grinned. "That all you can do, Ladyship?"
She cleared her throat and pointed at the room around them, "Decapitated bandits do not make for a romantic backdrop, you know."
He laughed at her openly. As if either of them was fooled. "Certainly, Ladyship. Lead the way outside to more romantic sights, Ladyship."
He could feel her eyes roll.
As soon as they got outside, Bishop took a deep breath. The air was crisp, clean and he felt as if something shifted in the world. Another piece of his sordid past fell away, bringing with it a sense of peace he never knew before.
'Side-quests' dealt with, they turned their eyes towards Solitude.
A/N: Song: 'Tale of Sir Robin' from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. The best mockery and greatest 'f*ck you' song I've ever heard! :D watch?v=jYFefppqEtE&t=1s