Chapter 29

Casivir

Rona's heart pound in her chest. She hadn't seen this man in five years and here he was now, standing in all his striking Breton glory. Her name caressed his gentle lips, "Rona."

She approached him, realizing all her friends were staring, Charissa hiding her smirk behind a mug, and Roxlin's eyes practically bulging out of her head. Marco looked slightly amused, as he stroked the thin patch of hair on his chin. She tried to ignore them and flashed Casavir a smile, "How have you been?"

His dark lashes fluttered over his bright eyes, "I've been well – and you? I heard that you are the Dragonborn now," he gave her a subtle and charming grin,"Would you care to join me? We can talk of your adventures over dinner."

Bishop appeared, seemingly out of thin air and put an arm around her shoulder. Casavir's delighted face turned to one of hideous disgust and anger as he looked at the man beside her.

"Well isn't that just great," Bishop's voice dripped with scorn,"If it isn't everybody's favorite white knight. I was not expecting to run into you here, but the irony of it all definitely suits you."

Rona looked up at him, then back to Casavir, bewildered. They knew each other!? How could they know each other!? Her mind was reeling as Casavir replied in kind, grasping his sword hilt, "Unhand her Bishop, before I cut that hand off."

Bishop cocked his head and said, "What? You haven't heard? I'm the Dragonborn's closest traveling companion, or did the damned bards forget to mention me in their songs? Ah well, at least she sings songs about me... every night."

She wanted to speak, but felt like her tongue was stuck in her throat. It certainly didn't help that everyone was staring, even strangers. Serlas was the only one humming to himself, sipping at a goblet of red wine, pretending not to notice which still didn't ease her discomfort with the situation.

"Don't speak of her that way, you filthy, abhorrent dog," Casavir spat at him, he looked at Rona distressed, "Please tell me you have not been accommodating this flea ridden brigand on your journey Rona."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, such nasty words to cross a saintly Paladin's lips," Bishop needled him, "Whatever will you do if your superiors catch you breaking your vows against slandering others?"

Casavir glanced at him, his brows nestled furiously over his eyes before looking kindly at her again, "Rona, my lady, I could assist you on your journey. I could aid you against the dragon menace myself and protect you from this," his lip curled, "vulgar brute."

She blinked, not sure what to make of his offer and realized her stomach was twisting and turning quite a bit.

Bishop scoffed, crossing his arms, "She doesn't need you. Go help someone who wants your holy righteousness, it's not wanted here."

"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."

"You think a little too highly of yourself, Paladin. With you along she'd get so bored she'd sprint and dive head first into those flames; anything to make her feel alive again."

Inside her head she was screaming and screaming for them to stop, for all the prying eyes to look away and then finally the words came, but not from her.

"ENOUGH!"Charissa roared at them, "Can't you two bone-heads see how you're making her feel!?"

Rona threw her arms out, shoving both of them back and out of her way and rushed outside. She had to get away from them. She felt sick again.

The two men made to chase after her but Charissa blocked the doorway, held her hand out to both of them and sternly said, "No. Girls only - you two are in time out. Go sit in a corner, away from each other."

Serlas chuckled over his goblet still humming to himself as Lorrie and Roxlin followed Charissa out the door, chasing after their friend. They found Rona a little ways down the path into town, sitting on the edge of a well in front of some marketplace stalls, all closed down for the night. She looked completely mortified, with tears clinging to her lashes.

Roxlin ran over and hugged her and Lorrie sat down beside her and pat her back, while Charissa said, "I'm so sorry Rona. We didn't tell you Casavir was coming because we wanted to surprise you. We had no idea that was going to happen."

"Yeah," Roxlin said, "Who knew your new guy would have known your old guy? We really messed up."

"I would have spoken up sooner," Lorrie whispered, "But I got nervous."

Rona choked back her tears and said, "None of you are at fault. It's Bishop's fault, because he has to go around making a complete ass of himself and it's Casavir's fault for letting it get to him," she buried her hands in her face and mumbled, "Why am I attracted to such jerks?"

"Well they are very handsome," Lorrie crooned.

Rona looked at her and laughed, blinking tears away.

"All men are lust-drunk idiots, Rona, get used to it," Charissa said scowling and crossing her arms.

"Hey!" Roxlin pouted.

"Except for Magrob, obviously," Charissa clarified, "He's a true gentleman."

"And Linel," Lorrie added.

"Yes, well considering Linel fancies men we already know he'd agree, men are idiots," Charissa argued with a laugh.

Rona smiled up at them. She'd forgotten how great it was to have female friends looking out for her and teared up some more. They hugged her, "Don't cry Rona."

"I missed you guys," she sobbed.

"Hey," Charissa said, "You should stay with us tonight. We rented a room with two bunk beds so we've got an extra one. Forget those two blowhards, it'll be just us, like old times."

Rona sniffled and nodded, "I'd love that."

"You know the inn is completely rented out, right?" Roxlin said, "We were thinking Bishop could bunk with the guys but now… oof."

"Yeah, that would be a bad idea," Charissa agreed.

Rona wiped at her eyes and stood up, "It's ok, Bishop's used to sleeping outside. I'm sure he won't mind."

The girls grinned and Lorrie whispered, "Ooh, he's in the dog house tonight."

They all giggled together, patting Rona on the back and trying to cheer her up before wandering back over to the inn, her friends all keeping a protective circle around her. Bishop was outside, leaning against a wall, arms crossed, looking sour. He looked over at her and she fell back from the group. The girls glanced at her nervously and Rona just smiled, "I'll see you all inside in a bit."

Roxlin glared at him and said, "Got my eyes on you Mr. Handsome, watch yourself."

He smirked at her as she followed the other two inside. Then he sighed heavily and looked back over to Rona, looking apologetic. They both waited for the other to speak first and finally he shrugged his shoulders and said, "You gonna stay mad at me all night Ladyship?"

She turned her head slightly and said, "How about we go for a walk?"

"Sounds good," he stepped over to her and they walked side by side heading down the path leading to the stables. "So, where we headed?" he asked his arms up behind his neck.

"You have to camp outside tonight," she said plainly.

He scowled at her, throwing his hands out, "What, why? You're seriously that mad at me?"

She looked over at him, "Well if you'd rather spend the night in the same room as Casavir…"

"The fuck? No. I'll just get my own room!"

"The inn is booked up Bishop. Ata will probably stay with the guys and I'm spending the night with the girls. So you're stuck."

He twisted his mouth and shook his head, "Leaving me to sleep alone in the cold all night, eh Ladyship? So as soon as your little friends show up you throw Bish to the side and abandon him, huh?"

She stopped and glared at him, "I have never once abandoned you. Is it so wrong of me to want to visit with my friends without having you running around pissing all over the place marking your territory?"

His brow lowered, hovering harshly over his burning amber eyes, "No I see how it is. Your old Paladin comes back and those feelings stir inside you and then you want some alone time with him."

She felt the anger building inside her. How could he even suggest that, after everything they'd been through together, "How can you say that to me? I gave you my trust, my body and my heart. I've given you everything Bishop and you won't even…" she stopped herself, feeling tears of frustration and anger building.

He wouldn't let up though, "What? Because I haven't said those three little words yet? Is that it? So now you're going to flounce off with your perfect, saintly knight, who you've obviously been holding a torch for all these years, and get him to lick your boots instead?"

She scoffed incredulously, "Holding a torch - for Casavir? You don't know anything about what I feel for him."

"I could see it plain as day all over your face the minute he walked through the door. Looking at him with those lust filled eyes of yours."

"What is your problem with him anyways!? How do you even know him!?" she shouted.

He shut up real quick and averted his eyes.

She was furious, "More secrets Bishop? Really?"

He backed her up against a wall then, pressing his hands against the stone surface on either side of her head and glared down at her, his face inches from hers, "You want to know something about your perfect Paladin? Let me tell you all about him. First off, he's not even half the saint he pretends to be, yeah that's right, he's pretending. You know why? Because he's a fucking liar is what he is. He's just like every other red-blooded man coming your way trying to bed you. He puts on his mask and fakes his niceties and his platitudes and none of it's real. Then he gets you in his bed and he's gone the next morning."

She met his glare with her own and said, "That doesn't answer my question."

"Tsk," he turned away from her and started walking away.

"What? Done talking already!?" she screamed at him.

He stopped, hands balled into fists and said, "No. I'm leaving. Fuck this. I don't fucking need any of this. I see how it is, you've got your father, your friends and… him."

She was angry and upset and burst into tears shouting at his back, "Why are you doing this!? What did I do to deserve any of this!?"

He spun and snarled back at her, "Give me one good reason why I should bother staying now!?"

"Because I love you!" she cried and immediately clasped her hands to her lips, trying to press the words back in.

His mouth dropped and he stared, his chest heaving as his face softened completely.

She turned away and muttered, "No… forget I said that." But he was on her in a second, grasping her arm and pulling her to him and she pushed away, shrieking, "It wasn't supposed to be like this!"

She managed to pull away from his grasp and ran as fast as her legs would carry her up to the inn as Bishop called back, "Rona! Wait!"

She hated herself for letting it slip. For saying it that way to him. It should have been beautiful and romantic like she'd always imagined. He would finally confess his feelings and she would tell him she'd loved him always. Not like this. Not out of fear of losing him.

Back inside the gates she stopped and leaned her back against a wall, trying to pull herself together when all she wanted to do was cry. She rubbed at her eyes, drying them and went inside, glancing around for her friends. They were all seated at the table, although Serlas was missing, probably retired early for the night.

Casavir stood up and said, "Rona... please, I wish to apologize.

The girls all got up, Charissa pointed at Casavir and said, "You sit your shiny metal ass right back down mister. We've got this."

They huddled around her guiding her upstairs. Lorrie grabbed Linel by the arm and he said, "Ah - what? Me too?" Rona chanced a glance at Casavir who looked deeply upset before Roxlin pushed her onward saying, "Nope! Nope!"

They disappeared upstairs and Marco yawned loudly, feet on the table, "Women. I wouldn't worry too much about it Casavir. She'll come around. That fellow she was with, pft, you're leagues better than him. Honestly, he looks like he crawled out of a sewer, smelled like it too."

Casavir sat back in his seat and Magrob leaned over and said in his deep yet articulate voice, "Got some bad blood with that fellow Casavir?"

Marco pulled his feet down and threw his hands to his knees leaning forward, "Yeah, who the hell was that guy?"

"His name's Bishop," Casavir said scowling, "Just some old bandit I crossed paths with years ago."

Marco cracked his knuckles, "He's a bandit? Why don't we go gut him then?"

"He was a bandit I should say," Casavir corrected himself, "I heard he's been trying to... clean himself up I suppose. Just works as a ranger these days."

"Always the brutish one Marco," Magrob said as he pulled up his crossbow and fussed with it, running a cloth over the metal.

"Oh I'm the brutish one!" Marco cried throwing his hands to his chest dramatically, "So says the orc!"

Magrob raised his brows and smirked, "Indeed, so says the orc. I'm just saying, seems like Rona fancies him. You kill him and she'll never stop crying."

"Right," Marco grabbed his pint and leaned back, holding it up slightly and tipping it to Casavir, "You just say the word Casavir and we'll put that ranger in his place for you."

"What do you mean we?" Magrob growled.

"You know, you, me and Linel - since Cass here can't break his vows and all that," Marco nodded and took a swig of his drink.

"Oh I don't think so little Imperial. There's no way I'm getting on Roxlin's bad side by beating the shit out of her best friend's boyfriend or lover or whatever the hell he is. Not to mention you're forgetting Rona's the Dragonborn, she'll shout you to shreds."

"Ah - you're no fun," Marco waved a hand at him.

Casavir sat by thinking deeply, elbows on the table his, hands clasped together near his face, "No. I have a better idea. We simply have to show Rona just what kind of a man Bishop really is."

- 30 Minutes Ago -

Bishop had to get away from her. He was too angry to stand around talking to this infuriating woman. He'd seen it, the way she looked at Casavir, the small smile that perked at her lips at the sight of him. How dare she stand there and say she felt nothing. It was written all over her face.

He only got a few paces away when he heard her scream at his back.

"What? Done talking already!?"

Bishop stopped, hands balled into fists and let regrettable words crawl over his tongue. He just wanted to hurt her the way he was hurting, seeing her looking at that fucking murderer with lust in her eyes, "No. I'm leaving. Fuck this. I don't fucking need any of this. I see how it is, you've got your father, your friends and… him."

"Why are you doing this!? What did I do to deserve any of this!?"

He could hear the pain in her voice. He hit her where it hurt most. If he left, would she care? She wanted those three words so much, yet she never once said them to him. Damn this woman for burdening me with all these expectations and torturing me by drawing out my past and making me... feel for her. Making me care. He'd make her hurt, he'd make her know just how he really felt watching her ache for that damned Paladin.

He spun and snarled back at her, "Give me one good reason why I should bother staying now!?"

"Because I love you!" she cried clasping her hands to her lips.

His mouth dropped and he stared at her. He stared at her beautiful tear strewn face elegantly accentuated in the moonlight, her delicate, soft hands, her perfectly petite frame, standing there, startled and utterly heartbreaking in all her beauty.

His chest heaved as his face softened completely. What have I done?

She turned away and sobbed into her hands, "No… forget I said that." He ran to her, grasping at her arms as she twisted and pushed him away from her shrieking, "It wasn't supposed to be like this!"

She pulled out of his grasp and ran, she ran faster than he could ever run. To catch her would be nearly impossible. Like the white stag he'd seen once before, she was there one minute and gone the next. But he kept up the chase calling, "Rona! Wait!" as she flew through the gates and they slammed in his face.

"FUCK! GOD DAMN IT!" he roared slamming his fists on the enormous doors. He was shaking all over. How could he do that? How could he say those things to her? Because he thought he saw something? Because he was so sure every little quirk, every tiny flicker of movement meant something, it had to mean something.

He breathed and drew back from the gates turning his head and noticed a guard staring at him through his helmet. He glared at the man and snarled, "The fuck are you looking at?"

The guard shrugged and mumbled through his helm, "Women, eh?"

Bishop scowled at him and stalked away down the path. Alone. And it was his own fault. Because he couldn't help himself. She was right about that much. Pissing everywhere to mark his territory, strutting about grandstanding. Might as well have whipped his cock out and waved it around. Gods he really did know how to make an ass of himself. Casavir just rubbed him the wrong way. Should he have told her? Of course she didn't understand his hatred of the Paladin. Because he wouldn't... he couldn't talk about it. He thought of Jules for a split second and then buried that memory as quickly as he could.

He came up to the path leading to the stables but he wasn't ready to try and sleep. Probably couldn't even if he wanted to so he kept walking down the slope, hating himself and thinking of her. He couldn't stop thinking of her. Every minute they were apart was anguish. And she loved him... and he'd ruined that for her. It was almost like he was trying to sabotage everything good that happened to him. And Rona was good. She was more than good, she was a pure light in this dark world, lighting his way, leading him towards something wonderful with her.

He stopped as he heard the sound of a several men approaching and singing, slurring every word. They were all incredibly enthusiastic, singing loudly and boisterously. Bishop could not get away from these bards. Ever since he met her he'd been surrounded by singing and songs and it never ended!

(The song is Sally Brown by The Dreadnoughts)

"Oh, Sally Brown, she's a nice young lady,

Way, hay, we roll and go.

And we rolled all night,

And we rolled all day,

Spend our money on Sally Brown.

Oh, Sally Brown, she's a bright mulatto.

Way, hay, we roll and go.

Well, she drinks dark rum, and she chews tobacco.

Way, hay, we roll and go.

And we rolled all night,

And we rolled all day,

Spend our money on Sally Brown.

Well, her father likes a tarry sailor.

Way, hay, we roll and go.

And we rolled all night,

And we rolled all day,

Spend our money on Sally Brown.

Ah, Sally Brown, she likes a good Scrumpy.

Way, hay, we roll and go.

She likes a bit on a Rumpy-pumpy.

Way, hay, we roll and go.

And we rolled all night,

And we rolled all day,

Spend our money on Sally Brown.

Oh, Sally Brown, she's a nice young lady,

Way, hay, we roll and go.

Yeah, Sally Brown, she's a fine young lady!

Way, hay, we roll and go.

And we rolled all night,

And we rolled all day,

Spend our money on Sally Brown.

And we rolled all night,

And we rolled all day,

Spend our money on Sally Brown."

Bishop looked on, squinting through the darkness as an actual fucking pirate and his merry band of men approached him. The thick bearded man, a redguard, with twinkling eyes and several gold teeth sang boisterously with three other men, a bottle of rum in hand. The other bunch were dressed in various pirate garb as well, though clearly not as fine as the captain himself. They sang along with him raucously.

When they'd finished the captain, wobbling from side to side, dropped his bottle onto the ground where it shattered and smashed to pieces, "Damn! That was me last bottle of rum!"

One of his mates called out, "Oy! Cap'n there's more on the ship!"

He looked back at them and cried, "But where's me ship boys!? T'aint found it all night!" He wobbled forward, nearly bumping into Bishop before looking up at him and shouted, "Whoa ho lads! Got ourselves another fella here. 'Scuse me landlubber, but ah - you hadn't happened upon a ship round these parts, have yah?"

Bishop looked over to his right at the obvious port and the many ships right in front of them. He laughed slightly and shook his head, "I got to hand it you, that takes talent, losing a whole ship. Might try looking where you had it last Cap'n Rum."

"Smart lad ye are! What's your name boy? Could use another mate on me ship."

"The name's Bishop, call me boy again and I'll have to introduce you to my knife," he growled.

"Ho ho!" the captain chortled, "Got a feisty one here lads! Me name is Jack. Captain Jack."

"Jack huh?" he snorted, "More like Jackass with the way you're all going on out here. You trying to wake up the whole city with that racket?"

Jack chuckled and hiccupped, "Would gladly do it on me ship, if I could find it. Hey, what do you say lad, help lead me and me mates back to the old Jolly Roger and we'll share some of the rum."

Bishop smirked at this awful smelling man and nearly told him to fuck off when he remembered Rona and everything he'd said to her... and what she'd said back. He needed a drink more than ever now just to forget.

"Yeah alright, I'll show you where your ship is, Jack," Bishop relented and lead the way down the pier. They were all so drunk that they stumbled and tripped over themselves. One of them even walked right into the lake and buoyed back to the surface, face up, just floating there. Bishop kept moving, leading the four of them all the way down to the most ridiculous pirate ship he'd ever seen in his life.

He gaped at it, "That's your ship!?"

Jack wobbled back and forth and looked over at him, bleary-eyed, "Lad, it's not the size of the boat, it's the oars you're steering with, thank you!"

Bishop cringed at him as he lead the way up the plank onto the shabby ship, it smelled awful, bottles of ale, mead, wine and rum lay everywhere. The men cheered as they returned to their ship and Jack called to Bishop, "C'mon lad, down to where the real *hic* the real party is."

He warily followed them down into the ship where twenty other men and several exotic dancers were entertaining them all. A group of shanty men stood by singing pirate songs loudly and spilling their mead as they bounced back and forth. (The songs are Eliza Lee and Randy Dandy-Oh by the Dreadnoughts)

"Ah, forgot to mention - it's me best mate's *hic* me best mate's, wife's, second cousin's, dog's *hic* anniversary... or birthday. Can't remember. Don't matter - we're celebratin'!" He grabbed a bottle of rum from the bar and pat Bishop on the shoulder, handing it to him, "Thank you lad for helping me find me Jolly Roger. Now enjoy the festivities to your *hic* heart's content!"

Bishop shook his head at the man as he walked away to go bury his face in the tits of some wench. He pulled up a chair at a lonely table and drowned all his unwanted emotions in rum. It tasted like shit and smelled like shit, but it was strong and exactly what he needed to try and forget her. He watched as the dancers giggled and moaned writhing about the laps of the men, getting spanked and groped while gold pieces were tossed at their feet.

One lady, a strikingly attractive khajiit woman with her breasts swinging free came over to him and purred with a sensual, lilted voice, "Feeling lonely stranger?"

He glanced up at her. He'd never had a khajiit before. Too furry, he always thought. Didn't want to cough up a hairball the next day. Though the rum was making her seem incredibly appealing right at that moment. He actually considered it before Rona's tear strewn face flashed in his mind. He turned away from the khajiit and said, "Not my type, cat."

She scowled at him and wandered off, her derriere and tail shaking as she went. Jack came over then and dropped into the chair across from him, "Don't fancy the ladies lad?"

"What?" Bishop furrowed his brow.

"You know, you a fairy boy, a fag? Got a few mates who'd fancy you in their bed tonight," he thumbed over to a toothy broad-chested fellow across the way who gave him a flamboyant wave and wink.

Bishop shuddered and said, "No. Fuck no. I've already got a girl."

"Ay!" Jack laughed, "So what? You married to 'er? Should let loose and *hic* have a bit of fun!"

"Nah. No other woman can even try to hold a torch to her," he smirked to himself, "She's... perfect."

"Hmm, ay, ay. Had a lass like that once. A high elf. I almost wanted to yell timberrrrr as she fell into me bed!"

Bishop chuckled, "You are something else Jack. But I can guarantee you, this woman, she's one of a kind."

"So tell me 'bout this pretty lass o' yours, what makes her so special you'd turn your eyes from these beauties!" He waved a hand over at the nearly nude, dancing girls.

Bishop just shook his head and said, "My girl, she's the Dragonborn."

"Oh! Shut up! No!? What!? The power to shout a man to death? The power to shout a man to pieces!?"

"You have no idea, Jack."

The two of them drank together, Bishop becoming more and more sloshed on rum and talking non-stop about Rona. Ladyship this and Lightfoot that. His vision blurring as he looked around at the boisterous room.

"How you likin' me rum lad?" Jock asked him.

"Ugh, it's AWFUL," he slurred, "I can still taste it in the back of my... my... throat! Even the Winking Skeever's shit couldn't wash this out!"

Bob chortled and started telling him some awful jokes, "Argh! You know I'm not just a great pirate, I'm a great navigator. In fact I've circumcised the globe. Ah, you might think circumnavigated but NOPE! I took a shortcut. In a clipper ship. Or maybe it was a coastguard cutter... I'm in the wrong business lad, I should have gone into comedy!"

Bishop rolled his eyes at Joe before standing up and wandering off towards a very attractive and busty orc wench. He vaguely recalled their conversation, "Come here... You look... Like a comfy place to lay my head." She smiled at him, welcoming him into her arms before he passed out.

He woke up with a splitting headache, groaning and getting his bearings. He noticed that he was laying on an incredibly comfortable pillow before pulling back and reeling, "Eugh!" He pat his hands all over his body and looked down, relieved to see his clothes were still firmly attached to his body while the orc woman, who'd been a thousand times more beautiful the night before, but not even remotely as much now, snored loudly against a sack of potatoes.

He stood up rubbing his throbbing head and heard some loud singing coming from outside and then the boat rocked and he steadied himself. His eyes widened in realization as he ran up the steps and caught sight of Captain... Jock? Joe? Bob? No, Jack. Captain Jack singing loudly as the ship sailed across the river, leading away from Solitude. His mates joining him on chorus as they ran about the ship drawing the sails.

(The song is Old Maui by the Dreadnoughts)

"Tis a damn tough life full of toil and strife
We whalermen undergo
And we don't give a damn when the day is done
How hard the winds did blow
Cause we're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
With a good ship, taut and free
And we don't give a damn when we drink our rum
With the girls of Old Maui

Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui"

Bishop ran across the deck and up to Captain Jack who stood at the steering wheel singing loudly. He glanced over at Bishop and gave him a broad grin, flashing his gold teeth, before singing again.

"Stop the ship!" Bishop cried, "I have to get off!"

"T'aint no stopping her now lad!" Jack shouted merrily.

"How do I get off!?"

Jack finished a line of song before his men joined on chorus and he said, "Could walk the plank n' jump if it suits yah!" He chortled raucously and spun the wheel. Bishop snarled at him, swearing before running over to a plank of wood, perched precariously at the edge of the boat, checking his person once over for his things then holding his breath and diving in.

He swam to shore, almost grateful for the way the icy water felt on his head and then he crawled onto shore and sighed, falling over onto his back. A breton girl with bright blonde, pixie-cut hair stooped over him and smirked, "Wow, looks like you had a rough night."

Bishop snapped upright and looked back behind him. The entire group of Cheydinhal's Finest stood by staring at him, including the damn Paladin and a very unimpressed Dragonborn.