A/N: I updated the cover. I think this one fits them better :D
Of course they made a detour.
Bishop washed Chaurus gunk of his armour and threw a rueful glance at the clearly visible Solitude docks. On the other side of the river.
"Karnwyr's amazing, Ladyship, but he doesn't like swimming that much. Neither do I, for that matter. Have mercy on your old wolves. Let's go around." He tried to beg for both their sakes. His and Karnwyr's, that is. His Ladyship The Mightiest of All would of course have no trouble swimming across.
Seriously, though. They already lost about a week by going through Morthal to offer the wine to one of the few Jarls who doesn't mind magic. And then they crossed the Evil Swamp of Doom. So what's a day more?
She gave him an evil smirk. "I have a better idea."
With that, she cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted (non-magically, thankfully) across the water. "Hey, boat-man! Come get us with your boat!"
Bishop could see several people at the docks turn towards them, then turn away in the next moment.
"It's not one of my stops!" The boat-man shouted back.
Bishop wiped the last of the bile and poison off and stood up. "Why do I get the feeling this is not the first time this happened?" he asked sardonically.
Hildur only laughed. "Because it's not." Then she turned back towards the docs. "I'll pay you double!"
"...I'll be right there~!"
"Yeah, definitely not the first time."
"Come on, Bishop, I got us a ride! Now my Princess won't have to wade through the water, and we won't have to lose any more time!"
"'Wade,' she says," he mock-complained. "The water's deep enough that a galleon could sink and have no bits sticking out, I'll have you know."
"I know," she wiggled, self-satisfied. "I cleared some of them out."
At his incredulous look, she added, "The water-breathing enchantment is amazing, you should try it sometimes now that you have one on you. And, aside from all the cargo they carried, the ships are an excellent source of Nordic Barnacles and Slaughterfish Eggs."
Bishop chuckled and shook his head ruefully, "Slaughterfish, too, I presume."
"Yeah. But no worries. One of these days I'll figure out how to fight underwater and then I'll have all the Slaughterfish Scales I could ever need."
He only shook his head fondly. "And until then? Do I have to worry about fish outperforming me and getting a bite of you before I could?"
"No, I- Wait, what?"
"You heard me," he grinned.
His Ladyship fidgeted. "There's no... biting involved in that. ...Is there?"
His grin grew wider, "Only if you ask nicely."
Hildur huffed. "You're impossible!"
"You love it," he countered with a smile.
Bishop turned to watch the approaching boat and ferryman, happy with his minor victory. Then his Ladyship turned around and, quicker than he could perceive, planted a delicate kiss right on his lips. He blinked.
His lips spread into a slow, satisfied smile. "Do my senses deceive me? Did my Ladyship just kiss me, of her own volition?"
She wiggled in place and muttered "Yeah, so what? Don't make a fuss over a little kiss."
"I would never, your Ladyship." He placed a hand on her waist and pulled her closer. "I simply can't help but note that we've been trading 'little kisses' for a while, now."
"...And?"
"And it would be much more pleasant and comfortable to share them without an ancient dragon priest between us. What do you say?"
She stared across the water for a moment. Then she lay her head on his shoulder and turned her mischievous eyes towards him. "Soon."
His hand tightened on her waist in surprise. Then he relaxed and kissed the edge of the mask. "I'm looking forward to it, then."
'Don't push her, don't push her, just don't push her,' he repeated to himself. And then his mouth opened and he heard himself ask, "But seriously, why not now? You know I would never... judge you for what you look like, right? Because I wouldn't."
"Aww, you're so cute!"
"'Cute'?! Ladyship, sometimes I really don't know how your mind works. There's nothing cute about me, you hear me?"
"Cuteness personified."
Bishop only spluttered in horrified amazement.
"You honestly have nothing to be worried about there, Bishop. It's just... a matter of preference."
He shook his head. "You'd prefer not to show your face, even when you find it damned uncomfortable to sleep in a metal mask?"
Her smirk got across in its full strength through her voice. "I'd prefer to see your jaw hit the floor when the mask finally comes off, my ranger." She shrugged. "And for that, I'm going to need a bath, a mirror, and a beautiful, tailored dress."
"So- you don't take your mask off for vanity's sake?!"
She simply laughed at him. "I told you you should never challenge a dragon, Bishop!"
He groaned.
She snuggled closer to his side, self-satisfied. "Don't worry, I have a nice, big house in Solitude, with a full wardrobe and everything I could possibly need. Prepare to be dazzled."
He squeezed her tighter to his side. As the grinning ferryman pulled to the shore near them, he couldn't help but be charmed and pleased anyway.
But he still couldn't help but have the last word. "Better make it good, then, Ladyship. I'm not an easy man to impress."
Her indignant eyes told him she took it as an additional challenge.
'Double-dare, sweetheart. Show me what you can do.'
"Ooh, what are such beautiful tits doing here so late at night, all alone?" The drunken pirate slurred.
The Dragonborn took a breath, then paused. Looked down at her fur-lined-robes covered 'tits', the bright day around them and a grinning Bishop with Karnwyr at his side.
Then she shook her head, "Man, I don't know what you're drinking but I want some."
"Rum, my beautiful. The best rum in the world!" He tried to take another swig from his bottle. "Damn, that was my last bottle!"
Both Bishop and Hildur looked at the crate full of rum next to him. Half of the bottles were still full.
Bishop leaned in and whispered conspiratorily, "You distract him, I steal his rum?"
"Deal!" She grinned, "Just imagine, we'll be doing him a service. The man had too much already."
"Hey, what are you two lovely lasses whispering about there? Join me in my cabin, beauties, and you can whisper in my ear alll niiight looong~."
Bishop snorted. "You think he means you and me, Ladyship? Or me and Karnwyr?"
She chuckled. "I'm betting Karnwyr and that tree behind me."
"Oh, shit, you're right!"
"Just imagine, beautiful. You can have the world-famous Captain Jack in his world-famous ship all to yourself. All you have to do, all you have to do, hic, is help him find that ship!"
They threw a glance down to the pier and the fancy-looking ship docked at the end. The man next to them obviously couldn't see it, or reach it, or both.
Then exchanged mischievous glances. That rum was as good as theirs!
His Ladyship turned back towards the stairs they have just come up. "Come on. I'll lead you to your boat."
"Let me show you the size of my mast, milady!"
"Mast? More like an anchor, man. Your rum pulled it alll the way down to the bottom of the ocean."
"Hey! I'll have you know, I am both a captain and a lover!"
Bishop snorted. "The only thing you'll be 'loving' is your bottle tonight."
"Come, Dragonborn! Let's sail away!"
"There's not enough wind in your sails, buddy."
"Wow! You look like you can handle a sword!"
"You have no idea, Jackie. She can do it one, two-handed and magically!"
"Let's get drunk!"
"Drunker? I think he means drunker." He gave her a conspirational wink. "Let's do that."
She, honest to Gods, giggled.
"Sorry, Toots, I'm afraid I can't get any closer." He belched loudly. "Cursed, you see?"
They stood about a minute of leisurely walk from the ship.
Now the man decided to inform them that he couldn't even board his own ship?
Looked like his Ladyship wasn't any more amused than he was. Then she swayed from side to side and Bishop smelled mischief brewing.
She leaned in and hinted in a sickly sweet voice, "Then how about I help you out? See, I have this Shout, it's called Unrelenting Force. I could Shout at you and catapult you in the direction of your ship. Who knows? It might break your curse, but even if not, you'd still be closer than you are now..."
At the word 'catapult', the drunken pirate mysteriously sobered up. "That won't be necessary, thank you!" He cleared his throat, "You have been most helpful, my lady, but I fear I must deal with my cursed fate myself."
She shrugged her shoulders, grinned under the mask, and said, "As you wish. Good luck with your curse then, and thanks for the drink!"
"You're welcome," he muttered, confused, and stared down at his empty bottle in bafflement, probably wondering when exactly he offered her a drink.
Bishop smothered a snort and took great care not to clink as they walked away.
Bishop vaguely heard the door open and close. Oh, that must be his Ladyship, back from her 'diplomacy' mission at the Blue Palace.
To 'give the fair Jarl Elisif a gift of her own make as a sign of continued appreciation from their Thane', meaning she probably handed out several bottles of her wine and made it seem like she was doing the Jarl a favour.
The same thing she did to the last two Jarls, from Morthal and Falkreath.
The only one to see through the ruse was that wise-woman in Morthal - ironically the only one who appreciated the magic-booster in any way, and was glad to try the wine out.
Bishop calmly took another swig from the bottle of rum and let himself relax in the plush, comfortable chair in the upper story of his Ladyship's palace.
Because this place was a bloody palace. It had an upper floor and a lower floor and everything. All of it filled to the brim with priceless artefacts, armour and weapons, precious stones and lots and lots of money.
'Like the lair of a Dragon.'
Shit, Ladyship sure was rich. Bishop was dating a rich noblewoman.
A rich noblewoman with a penchant for wearing male robes, taking shortcuts through deadly swamps, and singing as she chopped of bandit's heads.
Eh, all in all, not too bad. He guessed he could forgive the money and houses and titles.
"You started without me?!" His Ladyship glared down at the bottle in his hands, dismayed. "Come on! I helped you with the stealing, I get to drink too!"
Bishop grinned into the bottle. "I did you a service, Ladyship! The pirate's rum is awful!"
"Oooh, no, no! No throwing my words back into my face, Bishop, that's not fair. Only I'm allowed to do that!"
He laughed drunkenly. "How's that fair? And who said that?"
"I did and you know women are always right."
He laughed, knowing perfectly well she wasn't serious. "Don't pout, Princess, it doesn't make Hevnoraak any prettier in his ancient age. Besides," he grinned and reached behind him into the small hidden satchel, "I saved you a bottle or two!"
He handed his rightfully gained loot over to his Ladyship and took another swig from the bottle.
She laughed and opened it to take the first gulp.
The day went progressively blurrier from there.
He awoke to pain. Pure, unadulterated pain.
Bishop groaned and immediately regretted it as it made his head pound even worse.
Rum hangover. Horrible. 'Never again', he promised himself.
He washed his face, took a drink from the conveniently placed tankard of cool water at the bedside and made his way downstairs.
His Ladyship was sitting in a chair next to the main door, masked head in hands.
"Morning," he grumbled and went to sit next to her and the plates of food, probably prepared by the amused Housecarl that made her excuses yesterday and left them to their drinking. Smart woman, that one, not to join in despite their invitations.
The only reply to his greeting was a small unhappy grunt.
He chuckled lowly so as to not irritate either of them. "What? Did Hevnoraak not save you from alcohol poisoning? Or at least the hangover? Serious oversight from the Dragon Priests, really."
Hildur turned suspiciously stiff. "You don't remember?"
"What? What happened? Yesterday is a bit of a blur, Ladyship," he admitted.
Her next words shocked him and almost made him drop his fork. "I took off my mask."
"No, you didn't!"
"I most certainly did!" Her raised voice made them both wince, so she continued much more calmly, "I prepared and everything. Even added a bit of cream from Angeline. You seriously don't remember?"
He stared down at his eggs and tried his hardest to remember. There was something... something very, very blurry. Shit. She did take off her mask. "I... think you're blonde?"
She only scoffed and huddled into herself, obviously pouting under the metal.
"You could take your mask off now?" He hesitantly offered, but that only made things worse.
"When I'm hungover and clammy and disgusting? Oblivion, no!" She grumbled even harder. "You'll just have to wait for a better chance."
"Aww, come on! It's totally not fair! Besides, why would you take your mask off when I was drunk, of all the time? Why now?"
"Well, Hevnoraak does protect against alcohol poisoning. That means drunkenness too. I could drink a barrel's worth of rum and not get drunk with the mask ok. So I took it off."
Wait a moment. "What about Valtheim Towers? You want to tell me you were sober back then?" Then he remembered what else happened while they were there. "You stole my armour to sleep in while sober?"
Suspicious silence.
"You jumped from that height while sober?"
"I always jump from the towers into the river, Bishop, it was nothing special and nothing to do with any potential tipsiness!" She defended herself.
He only groaned. But honestly, the mask probably didn't work the way she thought. She had been drunk, or at least tipsy, he was sure of it.
"So why did you put the mask back on, now, in the morning?"
She shrugged, then clutched at her head again. "I thought it would help with the hangover, but it doesn't. Looks like the mask helps only when imbibing or being injected. Once the 'poison' is inside the body, the mask does nothing."
Bishop now really regretted starting drinking without her yesterday. Looked like he missed his chance.
But hey, she already pulled her mask off once. Twice, if he counted that dark night in Winterhold. Soon enough, he will see her in full. And then-
And then what, actually?
Until now, he thought of winning their little 'bet' as the ultimate goal, the final victory, after which she will somehow magically be 'his'. That wasn't how things worked, however. He couldn't go thinking like that, that this was some sort of game they played.
Games always had to end. Their relationship couldn't, not if Bishop wanted to keep his heart and his sanity.
So what was the end goal? Get her into bed? His heart clenched when he imagined her leaving afterwards.
He wanted more. Much, much more.
Marriage, then?
His head pounded with a brutal hangover and he winced. Perhaps this was not the right time to think about something life-changing like that. But he still felt the need to do... something. Anything. To bind them together, somehow.
He worried the little wolf-head ring on his hand. That gave him an idea.
"Hildur?"
He waited until her head lifted.
"There's... something I had for quite a long time." He wanted to insert some random line about women and trinkets but stopped himself at the last second. They were well past the point where such misdirections were necessary. Or welcome. This meant something to him, it was important, and he wanted her to know that. "I want you to have this."
He pulled the ring from his finger, gently took one of her hands into his own and placed it in her palm.
She stared down at the ring in her palm for a moment. Then she asked, shocked, "Your ring? I've never seen you take it off."
He smiled. "Well, now I have."
"...Thank you." She clutched the little ring in her hand, then slowly opened her palm, picked it up, and placed it on her finger.
Bishop felt a rush of satisfaction fill him at the sight. "I know it's not enchanted like your other rings, but..."
"I love it, Bishop, really." Her voice was strangely tight.
"...You alright, Ladyship?"
She only made a strangled little sound and then Bishop suddenly had a lap full of Dragonborn and lips full of Hildur.
At that moment, he forgot about his hangover or murky plans for the future or the whole world, and simply kissed her back. His hands rose to clutch her waist, but at that moment, she lifted herself a bit to better reach him. His hands ended up square on her ass. He squeezed, and Hildur gasped into his mouth.
With a smirk, he deepened the kiss. At the feeling of his tongue at her lips, she hesitated, then tentatively returned the caress with her own. Bishop pulled her closer and closer until she sat fully on his lap.
Right then, he was really glad to be still half-drunk and hungover, or he'd sport such a raging hard-on that it would have probably turned her off from him. As it was, he had trouble controlling himself even despite the pounding headache.
The kiss continued for a while, until they were both breathless and aching. When Hildur finally drew back, they stared at each other, neither saying a word.
That's when they heard steps coming up the stairs from outside and realized that Jordis, Hildur's housecarl, was probably about to return from her trip to the market.
Reluctantly, he let her go back to her seat. They both started rearranging their robes and armour.
"Well. The day's still young. Let's go out and see who else you can sell your wine to, Ladyship."
She chuckled, "Sure thing... Florence."
"No, it's Laur- Oh, shit!"