Bishop's new fancy clothes provided the perfect 'mask' under which he could hide among the crowd - none of the guests paid him any attention.
He checked the entrance gate to see where the guards patrolled so he could sneak by them. Yet all he could see - and hear - were the complaining nobles and the outside 'buffet'. He narrowed his eyes.
...Could it be possible? Did people just... invite themselves in? No guards, no patrols, no one watching that gate aside from the other guests waiting to be invited in, yet no one opened the gate in the last half-hour at least.
The only guests who got in were those who simply opened the gate themselves.
He scoffed, amused. Well, that was one way to 'weed out the unworthy'; they weeded themselves out by waiting for an invitation when they could just strut in and no one would have stopped them.
And people seriously paid for this?!
On the other hand, hey, easier for him to get in.
Bishop straightened, lifted his head the same way his Ladyship always have when she said she did what she wanted, smiled at the memory and strolled through the gate as if he owned the place.
The half-drunk announcer paused. "Err..."
Bishop glared at him for all he was worth and watched the fop gulp. Then the man shrugged his shoulders, looked away and pretended he hadn't seen him.
Worked for him.
Now, where could his Ladyship be?
He thought for a moment.
...By the wine, probably, he shrugged with a smile.
Several ladies stood by the finger-food, one of them shovelling itsy bitsy pieces into her mouth as if she hadn't eaten for a month. Which, considering the size of their waists, none of them probably have. Actually, weren't some of them the girls he saw at the Jewel today?
He silently stalked closer to hear what they had to say.
"Slow down, Margaret!" one of them hissed. "The Matriarch is watching us and she isn't too pleased, let me tell you."
"I don't care~," the second one intoned and picked up a tiny shrimp cake. "If the Dragonborn could eat some, so can I."
"Yes, but it's the Dragonborn!"
"So?" 'Margaret' shrugged one dainty shoulder. "Have you heard what she said? 'No lacing or glare is going to stop me from enjoying myself.' Well, I think she's right! Who cares about fashion, when I can't eat? Or breathe? And if she could eat and still have that Paladin look at her like that, then I'm going to do it too.."
Bishop scowled. Damned Casavir, ogling his Ladyship.
The second 'flower of the court' sighed, then gazed longingly at the table covered in food she didn't allow herself to touch.
'Margaret' gave her a conspiratory look and offered in a half-whisper, "I could help you loosen the lacing, darling Isobel. Then you could have a couple cakes and some of that wine before it's all gone."
Isobel bit her lip, gazed at the frilly cakes and delicate glasses of wine, then huffed, "Fine! Let's just... find a room."
Margaret giggled, grabbed her friend by the hand and dragged her into one of the side-rooms of the Blue Palace.
Bishop smiled despite himself. He smelled rebellion. So his Ladyship has been there and made a sensation out of herself whether she knew it or not. That was... just like her.
But it also meant she wasn't near the wine anymore. Hmm, where could she have gone? He decided to check near some of the more influential guests at the upper levels.
A dark-haired noblewoman in the same style of dress as his Ladyship was viciously fanning herself and glaring at anyone who dared to approach her. Bishop grinned - that looked like his type of person. He decided to move closer.
"I can't believe I let the consul talk me into this one!" The noblewoman fanned herself even more vigorously.
"Enjoying the evening, my Lady?"
The woman turned her piercing eyes to him. Then her hand slowed and a grin slowly formed on her lips. "Aren't you the scruffy ranger that escorted our dearest Dragonborn to the gates tonight? My, you clean up well."
Bishop coughed. That... was not the reaction he was expecting. "I... apologize. I didn't realize anyone was paying that much attention to my... previous attire."
The woman laughed openly. "I doubt many have. But you see, I spend all year long wearing trousers. And armour. I am more used to paying attention to everyone around me, not only the ones dressed like nobles. I also cannot help but notice you have not been announced, my friend."
One of his eyebrows lifted. "How very... keen of you to notice."
"I need to be," the noblewoman gave him a sharp grin. "I wouldn't last long as the Queen of War if I haven't. Oh, allow me to introduce myself, my dear - I am Queen Madrigal of Khefrem."
He felt cold sweat run down his neck. This was one of the most powerful women in Tamriel, the one who single-handedly kept the Dominion from her peninsula, said to have the blood of hundreds of elves on her hands.
He pulled himself together and responded simply with, "Bishop."
The Queen laughed again, delighted. "Oh, I can see why she likes you, man. She continues to prove she has excellent taste." She winked at him conspiratorily. "Can you believe some of the courtiers tried to start gossip about us fighting to the death on the dance floor to solve the 'dilemma' of wearing the same dress? Your delightfully charming Dragonborn simply glared at them, walked up to me and said: 'I like your dress. I see we both have excellent taste'. The courtiers had no idea how to react - it was incredibly amusing to watch them flounder. She brightened my whole evening up, let me tell you. Such a refreshing attitude! I simply have to convince her to come to visit us in Hammerfell, she would just love it there."
Bishop chuckled. Hammerfell might not have been the first place he'd like to take his Ladyship to if he wanted to keep them both safe, but perhaps it might be better than Skyrim and its post-civil-war tension. Or pre-civil-war tension, depending on how you looked at it.
However, he had more pressing matters to resolve first.
"Do you know where she is right now?"
The Queen of War gave him an evil grin, "Why, on the dance floor with sir Casavir, of course!" She fanned herself. "Do you plan to go… stake your claim? If so, please let me know, I could use some more quality entertainment tonight."
Bishop excused himself and made his way to the dance floor as calmly as he could. His Ladyship was dancing with Casavir? In front of everyone? That… no. He couldn't accept that. He would go and 'stake his claim' as Queen Madrigal said. No matter what anyone thought.
He walked down the stairs to the enormous dance floor and yes, there they were. Right in the middle. With half the other dancing pairs subtly watching their every move, listening to their every word.
It seemed he came just in time, as he overheard Casavir ask his Ladyship, "Are you certain you can trust him, my lady?"
Before he could jump in, he heard his Ladyship, his Hildur reply, "I trust Bishop with my life, Paladin."
Something in him unclenched at her words. Perhaps he was being a bit too harsh. Self-conscious. Damn, this wasn't like him at all.
Bishop ran a hand through his hair, uncertain for the first time that evening on how to proceed.
Casavir continued, "Yet I still find myself concerned about your current choice of companion. He is dangerous! I have met many men like him; they only care about their selfish gain. They leave only chaos and destruction in their wake. I am concerned that-"
"When was the last time you talked to him, Paladin? Actually talked to him?"
"I- well, that is...-" The famous Paladin stuttered. Then he straightened imperiously and continued, "There is no need to talk to him. I know his kind and-"
She interrupted him again, "And he is not 'his kind'. He is a person. With his own mind, personality and yes, history. When someone talks about people's 'kind', it usually ends up in the realm of 'Greyskins', 'Boots', 'Pig Children' and 'Barbarians'. Take care not to fall into the same trap, sir knight."
"Of course not! I have never judged by race! But you must understand, he... he was..."
"If you mean the fact that Bishop used to be a bandit, then I already know. It makes me respect him even more."
That took the wind out of Sir Righteous' sails.
Bishop's too, for the matter. He leaned back against the wall and decided to listen to what his Ladyship had to say.
"Pardon me, my lady, but - respect? You respect him for being a bandit?"
She smiled, a bit sadly. "No, not for being a bandit. For having the strength of spirit to leave that kind of life behind.
"I may not know all the details, but I do believe the decision to become a bandit might not have been entirely his own. He used to play the hand his fate gave him. But, as an ancient wise being once told me: 'What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature with great effort?' Bishop used to be a bandit, yes. Until the moment when he realized it was wrong. And then he had both the courage and strength to change his entire life around. Abandon all he knew, all his friends and contacts, all his usual 'haunts', to become a ranger and live an honest life. What is not to be admired in that?"
Both Casavir and Bishop were stunned into silence. Bishop might have been stunned a bit more, however. He... never knew Hildur had such a high opinion of him.
Here he was dreading the eventual confrontation about his previous life as a bandit... but it seemed it was not necessary.
For possibly the first time in his life, someone made assumptions about him and his character and found Bishop worthy of respect.
He had no idea how to take that.
But it seemed Casavir did. Bishop saw him clutch Hildur's hand a little tighter. "That is kind of you and your compassion is commendable, but should we truly simply forgive his past actions? No matter what he is, or believes himself to be now, there were a lot of people he hurt in the past."
Hildur only shook her head. "Your judgement is harsher than that of the Divines, Paladin. Shor's Hall of Heroes is filled with former sinners who turned their lives around. Even Martin Septim who saved us all from the Oblivion Crisis and Mehrunes Dagon's armies worshipped the Daedra in his youth. Should we judge him for who he used to be, or who he became in the end? Akatosh himself believed him to be worthy of becoming his avatar.
"Compassion for others might not be part of your wows, but perhaps it should be. You can never know where life will take you at the end of your days. Take care not to become worse than those you hunt.
"What kind of world do you want to live in? One where you hunt those who made mistakes in their past for the rest of their days? Or one where you let the past die and look at people as they are now?
"So yes. I believe Bishop deserves a second chance. He has earned one many times over, helping me help people without even any requests for compensation, simply to keep me company.
"He is the man I love. I wish to stay by his side and be a part of his future, not look to the past."
The song slowly came to an end.
Only now did Bishop realize that the crowd fell suspiciously silent as well. Most of them were staring at his Ladyship and the Paladin who, stunned, held her in his arms.
Then Casavir blinked and his face twisted in a strange sort of... pain? That was an expression Bishop never expected to see on the Paladin's face. "You have... given me a lot to think about, my lady. You are a good woman; a light in a dark world - one that I pray will never be extinguished. I... wish you... and Bishop... happiness."
The knight took Hildur's hand, placed a small kiss on its back, then bowed and walked away.
Hildur stood there, in the middle of the ballroom for a moment, watching the Paladin walk away with a curious expression on her face. Then she blinked, smiled to herself and turned towards the buffet tables around the dancing floor.
And spotted Bishop.
The surprise on her face would have been comical if Bishop hadn't been certain he sported an even more ludicrous expression himself. Were his eyes wet? They might have been.
He watched as Hildur relaxed at the sight of him, made her way towards him, resplendent in her beautiful gown, with a welcoming smile on her face.
This moment. No matter what else life will bring them, he would always remember this moment and know what love feels like.
All the pain of his life was worth it, if it brought him here. To her.
She paused before him. "Bishop," she greeted warmly, if a bit self-consciously.
"Hildur," he said back.
His hands reached out to her as if of their own accord. Found hers. Pulled her towards his arms.
"I love you too," he whispered into her hair and felt her relax in his hold. "Dance with me?"
"Of course," she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him with so much light in her eyes that she took his breath away once again.
The band resumed its music, the nobles' whispers picked up in volume. Out of the corner of his eyes, Bishop spied Queen Madrigal lean against the balustrade, grinning and steadfastly ignoring the Valenwood Ambassador at her side. She winked down at them and Bishop smiled in response. On the other side, two young ladies, each with a small cake in their hands, looked down at them, whispered and giggled. Several other ladies and gentlemen surreptitiously licked their fingers and moved towards the buffet tables.
Then Bishop stopped watching his surroundings for once and only had eyes for his love.
Their journey home was quiet. After the sheer volume and overcrowded heat of the ballroom, the quiet, cool night was a balm to both their souls.
They walked, hand in hand, past the palace and its still waiting guests, past the muted lights and music coming from the Bard College's party.
Hildur unlocked the door to her house, then she and Bishop walked inside the darkened entrance that only had the hearth's fire to cast a soft glow on their figures.
The night was quiet. Gentle, balmy breeze flew in through the cracks in the windows.
Hildur stepped into his arms, turned her beautiful eyes towards him, then leaned in and placed her lips against his. Bishop closed his eyes, allowing himself, both of them, to enjoy the kiss.
"I want you," she whispered against his lips and Bishop felt a shudder run down his whole body, settling itself as warmth in his belly.
But he had to be certain. "We don't have to, Hildur. If you still wish to wait... just because we confessed, it doesn't mean..."
"I know." She cuddled even closer to his warmth. "I want to. I have for a while now. Take me to bed, Bishop."
They left a path of discarded clothes in their wake. Bishop's doublet was the first to go, and soon enough he was helping Hildur untie her dress lacing. With each layer that fell away, he felt more and more confident, and more and more in awe. As if he had won a hunt, yet instead of blood and death, he found life and warmth.
When he finally had his Hildur under him, staring up at him with trust and love in her eyes, he felt like he was losing himself. All his past, all his mistakes ceased to matter, dandelions in the wind.
As he entered her body for the first time, he simply allowed himself to be.
A/N: Too much? Just right? ...Too little? Please let me know. This is the first time I'm writing a 'steamy' scene form the 'feelings' point of view. (A little ironic that it's Bishop of all people but hey, we all know he has the passion covered. I wanted to see if he had the love, too. Turnes out he does. A lot of it :) )
On a different note, we have one more chapter and epilogue to go :) It might take me a little longer, but shouldn't be more than a week or two.