A/N: Viarmo's Wine song: Topsy Turvy - on youtube ( watch?v=t4_jTwe6Ekc)
And, finally here, Hildur's face! i . postimg . cc / 85bLXmzp / hildur . jpg (remove spaces :) )
The marketplace was kind of... noisy. There was a decent-sized crowd surrounding an impromptu podium and some merchant's stall. As they approached, Bishop recognized the loud noise as singing.
"~Once a while
We throw a party here in town
Once a while
We turn Solitude upside down
Every man's a king and beggars have renown
Once again it's Solitude's Day!~"
Bishop's eyes narrowed. This smelled fishy. Or, perhaps, wine-y. He was wising up to his girlfriend's special brand of mischief. Maybe she should call her wine that - Mischief. "Ok, what's going on and why do I have the feeling you're the one behind this?"
Her shoulders shook with laughter, "That's because I am! I paid them to throw a small feast and to promote the wine."
He shook his head fondly, "Getting the Jarls to drink it wasn't enough?"
"Nope," she wiggled, content. "Not until every person in Solitude knows what it tastes like and adores it."
"How did you even convince them to do this?"
"Simplest thing in the world. I brought a piece of Aetherium here to the mortal plane. Or I might as well have." At his raised eyebrow, she nodded towards the happily singing Altmer at the helm of the crowd. "I paid in gold for them to throw a party and gave them complete creative freedom. And wine. By the end of my proposition, Viarmo was hopping in place with the desire for me to just shut up so he can finally accept. I think they would have thrown the party even if I didn't pay them. But I'm sure the gold helped."
"Of course, I should have guessed."
"~Here it is, the moment you've been waiting for,
Here it is, you know exactly what's in store
Now's the time we sing until our throats get sore
Now's the time we drink the drink of Gods!~"
The Altmer was in full swing, shouting at the passerby's and quickly growing crowd "Come, taste the wine!"
Bishop stared. "Wait, they put your wine into a song in less than a day? I mean, I don't even like bards and singing but... That's pretty fast!"
"You're dead wrong if you think the bards aren't ready to burst into a song at the slightest bit of provocation."
"...That's fair."
"~Put your drinking talents on display!
Be the King of Solitude's Day!~"
Hildur added, self-satisfied, "By the way, they get a bottle of the wine for themselves for every ten bottles they sell. Also, want a drink?"
Bishop just face-palmed. "After yesterday? No, thank you, Ladyship. I still feel the rum at the back of my throat. But if you see any convenient pile of snow, let me know."
He could feel her eye-roll. She looked around and spotted a bucket near the well, already full of water. "Would cold water suffice, my Princess?" Without waiting for his answer, she grabbed the bucket, brought it to her mouth and Shouted, "FO-KRAH-DIIN!"
Bishop watched with interest as the water, and surrounding air too by the looks of it, chilled to the point of freezing. There was a small layer of frost around the edges and the water itself looked... thick. Not quite ice, but no longer just water.
Hildur turned to hand him the bucket but before she could do that, a thin-faced Nord merchant reached over and deftly took it from her hands.
"Thank you, Dragonborn," she smirked, "This will work great to chill the wine!"
Hildur stood there and Bishop would bet his last pair of underpants that she was gaping, "But-, But my slush! Evette!"
The woman, most likely the famous Evette San, only laughed. "Come now, friend. It's hot outside today and our wine will sell better if it's chilled!"
The merchant threw a satisfied look into the barrel as if it held gold and not simply chilled water. "Trust me on that, I've been in this business for a long time. My Spiced Wine warms people up - no one has ever bought more than a glass on warm days and my best sales periods are in the winter. Yours serves well to cool people down, but for that, it needs to be chilled. Unless you want to invest in Frost Salts or Ice Wraith Teeth, the best we can do are stable Frost Runes or those Shouts of yours."
She pointed at a conveniently placed neat row of buckets and vats of water, "You can make yourself useful and chill these down for us as well, while you're at it. I'll go deal with the customers." And with a wink, she swaggered back to the stall where a line of customers was starting to form. All demanding to try some of the newest craze everyone was talking about.
"Bishop? I changed my mind. I don't like her anymore."
Bishop only laughed at her misery, then winced at his own misery. His head still hurt. "You heard the woman, Ladyship. Let's go and make you useful!"
Bishop picked a handful of Hildur's 'slush' from the latest chilled bucket he managed to wrangle from Evette before she could appropriate it for the wine and gratefully slapped it on his face. Aah, pure heaven. Just as satisfying as listening to the sheer pouting his Ladyship somehow managed to push into her Shouts.
"FO-KRAH-DIIN!"
Even some of the nearby bystanders noticed and were subtly smirking and laughing into their wine cups. Chilled wine cups. And tankards, and pitchers and anything Evette could find on such short notice, once she ran out of buckets and vats of water. The woman commandeered her stall better than either Ulfric or Tullius did their army.
And it was for the wine, so his Ladyship couldn't even really complain.
And hey, the crowds were amused, which caused them to buy and drink even more of the wine, which made even more work for his Ladyship, which caused her to pout even harder...
It was beautiful.
"FO-KRAH-DIIN!"
Unfortunately, that was when his little piece of heaven was interrupted by the last voice he ever would have expected to ruin this beautiful day.
"Forgive me for intruding, my lady, but I believe you are whom I am looking for. Are you the Dragonborn?"
She lifted her head and asked with just a touch of sarcasm. "What gave me away?" She straightened up from her tasks to give the man her full attention.
To both their surprise, the asshole Paladin only chuckled.
"My lady, my name is Casavir. I have been searching for the Dragonborn for some time now, in hopes of aiding you in your journey to keep the dragons at bay. I would like to offer my assistance."
This time Bishop wouldn't let his noble-hearted Ladyship deal with potential suitors, fans, and admirers herself, lest she decided to actually join forces with the asshole. Before she could answer, he dropped the slush back into the bucket and voiced his protest. "Ugh, that is just great. If it isn't everyone's favourite white knight. I was not expecting to run into you here, but the irony of it all definitely suits you."
He could see his Ladyship cock her head to the side and look back at him. Probably wondering why he didn't like the oh-so-noble Paladin. 'Good,' he thought. 'Let her think and ask me before she does something crazy like ask the asshole to join us.'
"I merely wish to assist her, much as I imagine you are going right now, Bishop."
'Yeah, that's what I was worried about,' he thought.
"She doesn't need you. Go help someone who wants your holy righteousness, it's not wanted here." He hoped, prayed, it was not wanted.
The knight crossed his arms over his chest, defensive. "At least with me, her moral aptitude wouldn't plummet to the flaming depths of Oblivion which, I'm sure, with you along, it has been sorely tempted to do."
Hildur used that moment to jump in, "It wasn't, actually." When both men turned to look at her, she continued. "My moral compass is still firmly pointed towards Sovngarde, thank you very much. Besides," she shrugged her shoulders, "The dragons are pretty much pacified by now, the few surviving ones are following the Way of the Voice, and cause no trouble."
Bishop started to grin. Crisis averted. She will no doubt have some questions, but that could be easily dealt with later.
His girlfriend was saying her goodbyes, "I hope you enjoy your stay in Solitude."
"Actually, that brings up a question I wanted to ask you and away from prying ears."
"What's your question?"
"I know we've just met, my lady, but I wanted to request your presence to attend the Grand Crystal Ball with me at the Blue Palace, here in Solitude. I am new to these lands, and I am unfamiliar with the customs of Skyrim; I was hoping you could offer me some guidance."
Hildur jumped slightly, "Oh, shit, that's tonight? I totally forgot!" She scratched the back of the mask's leather cowl. "In my defence, it's a bit hard to keep track of dates in the wilderness. I guess it's too late to RSVP now?"
The Paladin cleared his throat, looking a bit uncertain how to handle her un-ladylike language. "I've been asked to attend as a guest of honour, and I was hoping that you would join me." He threw a look at Bishop still at her side. "If you choose to decline, I understand."
She will decline, of course. Bishop knew that she would decline since she hated parties and large crowds of strangers and being too fancy; and this was the largest fanciest crowded party of them all.
She fidgeted, then replied. "Yes, I would love to, Paladin."
"What?!"
Both of them ignored Bishop's outburst. Probably for different reasons, however.
"You delight me, my lady. I am overjoyed that you have accepted my request." Then he looked down at her robes - still filthy after dragging them through the swamps, since they didn't exactly have enough time and were‚tj in the mood yesterday to do a full cleanup. There might have been bits of Chaurus gunk here and there as well. The Paladin's eyes also briefly stopped at her metal mask. "Might I suggest getting a ball gown? There is an excellent shop here in Solitude, called 'The Jewel'. They have an amazing collection of gowns that might interest you. I have already informed the owner of the shop that I will compensate her for anything you wish to purchase."
"...You were so certain that I would accept?" she asked and Bishop was horrified to note that she was amused.
'Damn it all to Oblivion!' he silently seethed. 'No, no, NO! Please, Divines, or Daedra or whoever, anyone but this guy!' He could accept being replaced, he told himself a long time ago that when the time came, he would graciously step aside and let her live her life with whoever she chose, but this was too cruel. Not Casavir, of all people!
"I was hopeful, my lady," he corrected her with his smarmy stupid grin. Bishop wanted to bash his face in. "When you are ready, please come speak to me and I will escort you to the Grand Crystal Ball."
She nodded in acceptance and turned to look around the marketplace, probably searching for the tailor shop and an excuse to run away from Evette.
Bishop took a step closer to her to join her side and leave when the hated voice of Casavir himself stopped him.
"Bishop, I wish to speak with you."
He clenched his teeth, barely holding back a snarl. "But I do not wish to speak with you." He had bigger fish to fry. Like getting an answer out of his girlfriend on why she chose to attend the grand Who's Who Ball for all the nobility of Tamriel as the arm-candy of someone he clearly hated.
Before Casavir could get over the shock that someone would actually deny him anything he asked for, Bishop grabbed Hildur by the elbow and all but dragged her into the relative safety of the Winking Skeever.
They had some things to discuss.
Bishop lost.
Not that it was a fight. But still. Ladyship was going to have her 'magical night out' in the arms of his most hated enemy and there was nothing he could do about it.
Ok, maybe it was a fight. Which he lost.
Hildur parted ways with him in front of the shop with a kiss, asking him to help out the Bards and Evette pack and clean up after their impromptu party while she got ready. So here he was, carrying the wine the bards earned to their precious college for their private, smaller, College-only party.
Bishop grunted as he lifted yet another crate. Despite his Ladyship's initial protests, the wine disappeared surprisingly quickly. There were only about twenty bottles left after everything was accounted for - and Hildur planned to have them served to the nobility at the Grand Crystal Ball. They even managed to turn a nice profit from all the amused bystanders who couldn't resist but buy some at the marketplace party today.
Even the work couldn't distract him from his thoughts, however. His Ladyship, his Hildur, was out there in some fancy shop, prettifying herself for the sake of his greatest enemy.
Sure, she didn't exactly know Bishop's history with Casavir, but still. Did he have to explain? Couldn't she have just... refused to go?
Bishop couldn't help but feel hurt.
Did she care about the 'noble and virtuous Paladin' more than she cared about him?
No, that wasn't fair to either of them and he refused to think like that. Casavir might have been the first 'suitor' she didn't immediately reject outright, but that didn't mean anything, right? Ladyship probably only wanted to supervise the nobles tasting her wine and maybe sell it to them a little harder, and was using Casavir's extra invitation as an excuse to attend. Yeah, that was probably it, now that he thought about it.
Still...
The 'after-party' at the College was picking up, the bards getting cheerier by the minute. 'Alright, that's it,' he thought as he picked himself up and made for the door. He gave his Ladyship enough time alone.
Time to rejoin her at the 'Jewel'.
The shop looked like it deserved to have its own music. This much fanciness should be forbidden, he thought and fought the urge to squirm with unease.
Despite it being mere hours before the Grand Ball, the shop was surprisingly full and brimming with activity. Last-minute touch-ups, several 'flowers of the court' getting tight-laced into fluffy monstrosities of dresses that were currently in style, some nobles sitting around and not-so-patiently waiting for their beaus, a gorgeous-looking noble re-braiding her hair, several harried-looking assistants running to-and-fro... but where was his Ladyship?
He cast a quick appreciative glance at the noblewoman with the hair issues, then started seriously looking around for Hildur. The corridors of the shop were filled with mannequins, all of them presenting high-quality gowns in all the colours of the world. He couldn't wait to see his Ladyship try some of them on.
That's when his eyes fell on the small table. On the Archmage robes and mask of Hevnoorak that inconspicuously lay on it.
"Hey, Bishop," came the beautiful, amused voice of his Ladyship from behind him.
He turned.
"..."
The gorgeous vision before him smiled. It was the noblewoman he noticed before. Looked like she managed to finish her braid.
He appreciated her looks even before he knew who she was, but now? When he knew it was his Hildur?
Damn. Just... damn.
"Cat got your tongue, ranger?" she asked him with a small, knowing smile.
"...You are so beautiful."
At his words, a small, pleased blush spilt on her lightly freckled cheeks. He couldn't stop staring at her.
This was the woman he'd been kissing under that damned mask all this time? This was the woman he teased, dared, chased all over Skyrim?
If he had known, he would have... he would... ok, he would have done the same he did. Probably. Most likely. Still, it begged to question...
What on Nirn was she doing with him of all people?!
A woman with her beauty, power, money and prestige should grace the arm of an emperor or king, with a retinue of servants at her beck and call to fulfil her every wish before she could even ask. Not- Not get shit-faced with a random scruffy ranger on stolen Rum after dragging him through a deadly swamp!
Those people she was going to meet tonight - those were her people, not him. Princesses and admirals, ambassadors and generals. The creme de la creme. Who was he compared to that?
"Bishop?" A small worried frown marred her forehead. It was so much easier to read her without the mask on, he thought idly. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I-" the words got stuck in his throat. Then he decided - to Oblivion with it all. She took her mask off? He could do the same. He would not be outdone by a wench, not even in vulnerability. "You know what? No, I'm not."
She looked surprised, and not very pleasantly. He quickly continued before she could misunderstand, "Why do you even travel with me? Someone like you should be travelling with knights and servants, if she travelled at all. Even with someone like," he shuddered, "the Paladin, if that's what you wanted. So why me? Some random guy from a small village in the middle of nowhere?"
She lifted her chin. "I travel with you because I want to travel with you, Bishop." Then she grinned. "No one tells me what to do."
Despite having never seen it before, the grin was so familiar that Bishop could clearly see his Ladyship behind the beauty. The arrogant tilt of her nose, so much like the noblewoman she was, and the mischievous smile that made her blue eyes twinkle... it ironically calmed him down.
He smiled. "Hah, you're right. I'd like to see them try."
He wanted so much to just... pull her close and kiss those full lips of hers. So much. But something still held him back. This version of her was... ok, he was man enough to admit he was intimidated.
Hildur lowered her head slightly and bit her lip, sensing his strange mood. "...I promised you something, didn't I?"
He tore his eyes away from the lip she held between her teeth. "Huh?"
Hildur snorted a bit, then her eyes turned gentle. "The mask is off, ranger-danger. Don't you want to claim your reward?"
He swallowed. "Don't tease me, woman. If I start now, I don't know if I can stop."
She, honest to Gods, giggled. Then, before he could guess what she intended, she jumped into his arms in her pretty dress and pecked him on the lips. He clutched her waist in response.
When she tried to withdraw, he wouldn't let her. He pulled her in closer and covered her lips with his own. One of his hands rose to tangle in her hair, messing up the braid she fussed so much with when he came in. Her hair was as soft as it looked, her lips just as sweet as he remembered.
There were some muffled twitters and smothered snorts around them. Bishop remembered where they were and, with tremendous effort, pulled himself away from his Ladyship.
There would be time for that later. Hopefully tonight. Right after the Ball.
Hildur cleared her throat and straightened her dress. "Right." She fiddled with her braid. "Would you take my robes and mask with you, please? I probably need to go back to Casimir."
Bishop snorted.
"What?"
"That's not his name, Ladyship," he crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling much, much better.
"Oh." She bit her lip again. A nervous habit? "Ehm, what is his name, do you know?"
"Yeah, I know, Ladyship," he grinned back insolently. "I just don't feel like telling you. Try to guess - it's much more amusing!"
"Come on!" When she saw he wouldn't budge, she tried, "Caramir?"
He grinned, "No."
"Casalir?"
"Nope."
"Cashmere?"
Bishop only laughed.
His Ladyship pouted, then shrugged. "Alright then. I'll just call him 'My Knight'. No one will ask me for his name, then."
"Oh, please do, sweetheart. He's going to faint when he hears that." Stupid Paladin wows of chastity were going to brutally murder that guy and dance a happy little jig over his corpse. Bishop only wished he could see it when the asshole spontaneously combusts from the force of his own blush and pent up, suppressed desires.
Ladyship shrugged her shoulders. "I'm going to talk to the proprietor. I'm keeping this dress, it's nice."
"Yeah," he slowly checked her out, head to toe. "It is. But, wasn't the dress already paid for?"
"He said he will compensate her. Meaning he will only pay her afterwards. And, Oblivion no, I won't let some guy I only met today buy me dresses. I pay for my own shit!"
Bishop snorted. "That's my girl!"
He watched fondly as she talked to the owner, wildly gesticulating to help her get her point across. That was when he noticed the little dull gleam of a ring on her finger. His ring.
His Ladyship was going to wear his ring, his claim on her, to the Grand Crystal Ball! Wear it in front of all the nobility of Nirn!
Shivers ran down his spine, settling themselves as white-hot desire in his belly. More powerful than anything he had ever felt before, it felt like he had his breath punched from his lungs.
Before he could get over his shock, his Ladyship finished her business and turned to go. He followed as if in a daze.
Right as she opened the doors out to the marketplace, she paused and turned to him with a mischievous smile and the delightful little wiggle he loved so much. "Oh, and Bishop? Your jaw totally hit the floor. That means I win!"
"Oh, you so did not, you wench!"
He watched as Casavir placed his smarmy hands on his Ladyship's waist to lead her to the assembled nobles in front of the Blue Palace and clenched his hands into a fist.
Right before they vanished in the crowd, he glanced back towards the pair one last time.
His eyes rested on the ring on her hand again. His ring.
That's when he knew. He couldn't, wouldn't leave things to fate. He would fight for his love and get Hildur back into his arms. Tonight. In front of everyone. For the whole world to see.
Now he only needed to see if the 'Jewel' sold male clothes.