Chapter 41

A Night to Forget

Bishop woke up with a raging headache... not to mention a raging woman staring down at him. At first he couldn't figure out why Ladyship was wearing a Priestess of Dibella getup, until his vision finally cleared and he realized that the woman accosting him was in fact, not the Lady Lightfoot.

"That's right, it's time to wake up, you drunken blasphemer!"

He groaned, squinting in the firelight and sat upright, rubbing his head.

"Yes," she seethed, "your head hurts and you don't remember where you are. Let me guess. You also don't remember coming in here and blathering incoherently about marriage or a goat!"

"What?" he mumbled.

But she carried on furiously, "Which means you don't remember losing your temper and throwing trash all over the temple!"

Bishop looked around and while he was mildly pleased to be surrounded by the half nude forms of the statues of Dibella, he was more concerned by the fact that he couldn't recall how he got there. He thought back hard, trying to remember what the fuck happened last night. And then he remembered. "Sam," he looked up at the priestess, "Was a man named Sam with me?"

The woman crossed her arms scoffing loudly, "Dibella teaches love and compassion, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to tell you what you want to know and let you walk away from this!"

"Shit," he groaned again, "What did I do?"

"You left your filth, everywhere," she fumed, pointing her fingers at all the trash on the ground, "Pick up your mess, then apologize and if I think you're sincere I'll consider helping you."

Bishop stood up and looked around at the disaster he'd created in the temple. Statues turned over, baskets and pottery laying about, half-eaten bits of food strewn across the floor and plenty of booze spilled in places. He started picking up the garbage and was trying hard to remember through the throbbing in his brain. He was mid-grab of a partially eaten apple on the floor when he uttered, "Rona." He looked over at the priestess and said, "Was there a woman with me? About yea high," he held his hand out a head shorter than himself, "pink hair, green eyes, red dress? A half elf."

The woman pursed her lips, "No. It was just you."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought. What could have happened to her? Maybe she was still in Riverwood? But where was he? The temple of Dibella...

"Markarth," he muttered, "How the fuck did I get all the way here?"

"Would you please hurry up? We have business to attend to today," the priestess insisted.

He grit his teeth, scowling at himself and finished tossing all the trash into a lone basket. He picked up the last piece of paper on the floor and noticed something scrawled on it.

We need the following to repair the broken staff.

Giant's Toe

Holy Water

Hagraven Feather

Sam

It was a note Sam had written. What the hell was this all about? Some staff? He vaguely recalled Sam mentioning something about it, but couldn't piece it together. He looked back at the irritated priestess again and swiftly strode over to her and said, "Alright, cleaned up the mess. Now do you know if I said anything about a staff last night?"

She looked around the room and then up at him, still annoyed and tutted, "I guess that'll do. And no, you didn't say anything about a staff. You were ranting when you got here though. Most of it was slurred. You said something about Rorikstead," she raised her brows above her half-lidded eyes, "Maybe you should take a look there."

Bishop stuffed the note in his pocket and turned right around, bursting through the doors. He had to find Rona and the only way to do that was to retrace his steps. He didn't have any money though and no horse. He was going to have to steal one. He groaned at himself, twisting his mouth. Back to banditry it seemed.

Bishop made it down to the stables and looked around. The stable master was feeding his horses, though there was a lone stallion grazing in the paddock with no saddle. He smirked slightly, "Bareback it is."

He slowly walked down towards the stables, noting the fact that there were two guards stationed outside the hold. He hoped to the gods the horse was broken in. Bishop checked to see that the stable master was still busy, back turned and then he pulled himself up onto the steed, grasping the animal's hair and kicking its thighs making the stallion move forward in a gallop. The steed was a quick one and he was grateful for that because he heard the stable master hollering at his back and saw a few arrows hit the ground nearby.

He kicked the steed into high gear, pressing him onward and down the path. If he kept up that pace he could be in Rorikstead in just a few hours.

He had to find Rona and couldn't stop his mind from wandering over the worst case scenarios. That Sam guy didn't seem to be one of Thorn's men. Too jovial, not really Thorn's type of guy, not to mention the man was swimming in gold. He was the kind of person Thorn would have targeted, not recruited. Still... what if he had been a Thalmor agent? Someone come to take her? Bishop felt nauseous just thinking about it, not to mention he was still incredibly hung over from the night before which didn't help. He tried to keep telling himself, she'll be fine, she's the Dragonborn, she's got magic, she's got dual blades, a bow and a dagger. She's an ass kicking, feisty little nymph. "She'll be okay," he muttered through grit teeth and spurred the steed on faster.

Once he arrived in the quiet village he looked around. Not much going on, just a few farmers tending to their crops and a couple of kids playing. He dismounted the steed and started walking uphill, thinking he might check the inn first. He strode past a farm when one of the farmers saw him and shouted, "YOU!"

Bishop turned to look at him. Well that was fast, he thought to himself.

The farmer stormed up to him, fists curled and yelled at him, "You've got a lot of nerve showing yourself in this town again! What do you have to say for yourself!?"

Bishop looked at him perplexed and shrugged, "Got me. Can't remember."

"Are you serious!? You don't recall kidnapping my Gleda and selling her to that giant!?"

Bishop swallowed hard, what the fuck did I do!? He said, "Uh... Gleda? Your wife?"

The farmer opened his mouth and squinted hard at him, "Not my wife you idiot! My goat!"

Bishop breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll never breed another prize-winning beauty like her," he prod Bishop in the chest with a finger, "No thanks to you, yah bastard!"

Bishop held his hands out, "Can you just tell me if there was a man or a woman with me last night?"

"I'm not telling you anything until you bring me back my dear old Gleda!"

"ALRIGHT!" Bishop roared furiously, "FINE! I'll track her! I'll find your blasted goat!" He turned away from the man snarling at himself. This was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth. He still couldn't understand how he'd made it all the way from Riverwood to Rorikstead and then to Markarth in a single night... unless. He put a hand to his head, "How long has it been? Days? Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He kept mindlessly walking down the path, trying hard to remember, to no avail when he nearly bumped into a giant and its goat walking ahead of him. He cocked his head and uttered, "Gleda."

He drew his bow and ran back around a small overhang by the road. The giant continued stomping along while the old goat followed him. Bishop put his forefinger and his thumb to his mouth and whistled sharply.

The giant stopped and turned around, looking at him stupidly as Bishop aimed his arrow right for the beast's eye. He loosed the arrow and it pierced through the giant's left eye. The beast howled, scratching at its face and stomped, nearly hitting the goat with his tantrum. Bishop ran along the plateau firing more arrows into its face and getting a little too close for comfort as the giant swung his club out, nearly hitting him. He leapt backward and tripped on a large rock, falling flat on his back.

The giant was squinting now, blood running down its face and heavily from its eye as it stomped angrily towards him. Bishop turned away and made to scramble back up the hill when his stomach flew into his throat and he immediately ducked down again. A dragon swooped down, roaring flames and buried its claws into the giant's chest before taking off into the sky again, carrying the giant off with it.

Bishop rolled over and watched as the thing flew away, his whole body trembling and then his stomach did a few more turns and he couldn't stop it. He rolled over, puking everything left in his guts onto the grass.

He slowly wiped at his mouth, taking a deep breath, his eye twitching slightly and mumbled, "Well... that feels better."

He took a minute to catch his breath and let the throbbing in his head settle then pushed himself off the ground and coaxed the goat along with him back to Rorikstead. Thankfully the dragon decided to take its meal elsewhere, away from the little village.

Bishop called over to the farmer and said, "Found your damn goat."

The farmer looked up from his plow and shouted, "Gleda!" He ran over to them and looked the goat over, "And not a scratch on her! Oh happy day!" The farmer pat the old goat gently and scowled up at Bishop, "I still can't figure out why you stole her in the first place!"

Bishop crossed his arms and said, "Me either, now can you tell me if I was with anyone last night? Did I say anything?"

The farmer looked him over, "You really don't remember do you?"

Bishop grit his teeth and said firmly, "No, I don't. But there are some people I need to find so the sooner you help me the sooner I can get the hell out of here!"

"Well," the farmer put a finger to his chin and said thoughtfully, "you did leave a note explaining it, but half of it was gibberish and the rest had mead spilled on it. Only bit I could make out was 'repaying Ysolda in Whiterun' and even that's mostly scribbles. Guess you could try there."

"Ah fuck," Bishop grumbled. He turned away from the farmer without so much as a thanks and pulled himself back up on the stallion he'd stolen earlier and sped off heading east.

Whiterun was another four or five hours out if he could keep the steed running at the pace he was going. He was not looking forward to seeing Ysolda either. She still hadn't forgiven him for 'coming' and running all those years ago. She wasn't exactly his type, but he was drunk and she was a pretty face at the time. Just another notch in his belt. He was surprised that she'd spoken with him at all because she usually just ignored him when he was in town and that, naturally, suited him just fine.

He rode the steed steadily down the path. The day was still fairly new, it couldn't have been later than eleven in the morning. He'd hopefully make it to Whiterun by about three in the afternoon, with plenty of time to check back in Riverwood and see if Rona was there. He really hoped she was there, pushing all the worst case scenarios from his mind.

He kept up the pace to Whiterun, only taking one break by the river, letting the poor stallion get a drink of water and giving him a chance to chew on some grass. After a four hour ride he'd made it and scrambled off the steed, running up the path to Whiterun. Around this time of day Ysolda was either exchanging goods and chatting up the khajiit caravans or having a late lunch. He didn't see the caravan around so he figured he'd try the Bannered Mare first.

His instincts were right, as he found Ysolda sipping on a bottle of mead and enjoying some tomato soup. He took a deep breath and pulled up a chair next to her. She glanced up at him, surprised for a second and then her eyes drooped, half-lidded and she scoffed, "Oh. It's just you."

"Ysolda," he said feigning a polite overtone, "been a while."

She squinted at him, "Bishop we just saw each other last night."

He made a note of that. So it had been only a day... he hoped. He ran a hand over the back of his head and said, "Yeeaahh... about that."

She rolled her eyes at him and said, "Look, I've been patient, but you still owe me."

"Okay, how much do I owe you?"

She glanced back at him, "It's not about the money really. I mean, I wouldn't have given you the wedding ring on credit if you weren't so obviously in love."

"WEDDING?" He shouted the word then cleared his throat as everyone in the tavern glanced over his way and Ysolda looked at him perplexed. He said more quietly, "What wedding?"

Had he proposed to her? He'd asked Rona to marry him!? Of course he would. He'd done a lot of stupid things drunk off his wits. Not that he wouldn't ask her without being drunk first. She was perfect... but marriage? He loved her, but he was not ready for that.

"You don't remember?" She asked.

Bishop chewed on his tongue for a minute and said, "Well... we were celebrating pretty hard last night," he lied and feigned a laugh, "I'm having a real hard time remembering everything. Maybe you could give me a refresher?"

"Right, of course," her expression softened, "Well, last night you came in and sat right down at my table and then you told me that sweet story about how you met your fiancé. You even apologized for... you know... what happened between us. I'm really happy for you Bishop. I'd never seen you so in love before. So I forgave you and agreed to give you the ring on credit. You said the wedding was supposed to be last night though," she looked at him seriously and said firmly, "But if there isn't going to be a wedding, the least you can do is give the ring back! That was one of my best pieces."

He was stunned. Mostly with himself, how he'd managed to run all over Skyrim like this, it was just too much. "Do you know what I did with it?"

She frowned at him, "How much did you drink last night?"

"Too much," he admitted truthfully.

"Well, from what I remember you said you were going to run out and give it to your fiancé. Don't you even remember where you left her?"

"Not a clue," another truth.

Ysolda scoffed at him, "And after you told me that sweet story of how you two met! You'll be lucky if she doesn't leave you!"

"What uh... what exactly was that story about my fiancé?" He prodded her, trying to get as much information out of her as possible.

She gaped at him, "How could you forget!? It was the sweetest story I'd ever heard. How you met beneath the full moon, under the biggest tree in Witchmist Grove surrounded by fireflies. It was straight out of a storybook."

Well he definitely did not meet Rona there. In fact, he faintly recalled passing through Witchmist once and it was nothing but a dead and deserted area. It was also another three hours from Whiterun. He wondered if he should retrace his steps back to Riverwood first and then set out for Witchmist. If he did that, he'd be set back another two hours. He decided to make the ride to Witchmist first.

"Thanks Ysolda," he stood up and went to leave.

She called back, "Wait! What about my payment!?"

"I'm gonna go get that ring for yah. Turns out I'm just not meant for married life," he smirked at her and she just scowled furiously at him.

Thankfully the horse wasn't too tired, in fact he seemed quite energetic. He was still a young stallion, so it wasn't too surprising. Bishop continued his ride all the way out to Witchmist Grove. Maybe he'd left Rona there... maybe Sam was there. Bishop was seriously considering killing the man. He started thinking that he'd gotten them drunk on purpose. Yet, he couldn't understand why he didn't see it. Why he wasn't more wary. He faintly recalled Sam approaching them and offering to buy their drinks. Normally Bishop would have declined, treading carefully with such kindness from a stranger. But he'd felt compelled to accept the offer... almost like he'd been put under some kind of spell.

He tried not to dwell on it. The whole thing just made his head ache more than it already did. Instead he focused on the slowly dimming sun as it dipped under the mountains and the moon steadily rising as he finally reached his destination.

He dismounted the stallion, leaving him partly off the road near Kynesgrove before venturing through the dusky patches of plateau, near the badlands surrounding Bonestrewn Crest. He noticed a small shack in the distance which seemed strangely familiar to him. He decided to investigate. The dilapidated structure was surrounded by a fence made of wooden pikes that had been sharpened on the ends. There were several spriggan heads impaled on the same pikes and scattered around the area and two large and lit sconces sat on either side of a short staircase leading into the shack.

Bishop swallowed, knitting his brows together. He really hoped he wouldn't find Rona there. It was obviously the home of a witch or some other nasty creature. He slowly tread up the steps and peaked into the entryway. Nothing but an old torn up bed, a moldy, wooden dresser and some dirty books laying around.

Then a scratchy voice carried up behind him, making a shiver crawl up his spine, "Darling! I've been waiting for you to return! To consummate our love!"

"Oh gods no," he whispered and slowly turned around to find the most hideous hagraven crooning up at him.

"Uhh... actually, darling," he said while he slowly drew his bow from his back, "I was hoping to get the ring back."

Her feathers ruffled and she screeched at him, "What!? Oh I see! You want it for that hussy Esmerelda, with the dark feathers - don't you!? I won't let her have you!"

She threw a hand up, casting a raging fireball at him, which he deftly avoided by leaping off the low hanging platform and rolling onto the ground. He stood on his knee, swiping an arrow from his quiver and fired straight into the hagraven's skull, killing her, before she could release another angry attack on him.

He stood up and walked over to the creature, "Sorry sweetheart, it's not you, it's me... Okay that's a lie. It's definitely you." He bent over and tore the gold wedding band from her claw, stowing it away in his pocket.

He found his horse and made the trip back to Whiterun. He was exhausted, having ridden all day, retracing his steps through Skyrim, still perplexed as to how he'd done it all in one night. It just didn't make sense. He wanted to stop, to sleep, but he was too worried about Rona. He had to find her, he'd search all night if he had to.

Bishop made it back to Whiterun after another four hour ride. The stallion didn't even seem tired in the slightest as it wandered off to graze in a paddock while he ventured back up the hill. It had to be almost midnight. Ysolda was probably sleeping. He hoped she might know something more about what he did the other night since Witchmist turned into a dead end.

He knocked on her door. No answer. He knocked harder, banging on it with his fist. She flung it open and shouted, "Who is it!?" Then she looked up at him, while rubbing her eye and said, "Bishop?"

"Evening, my lady," he said, feigning more politeness.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Ysolda grumbled, "What are you doing here?"

He handed her the ring and she took it from him. She looked up at him, cocking a brow.

"It didn't work out," he said, "She was a little too much like my mother."

"Oh, well sorry it didn't work out with your lady. I know how excited you were for the wedding."

"Yeah about that," he said, "Did I happen to mention where we were getting married?"

"You just kept saying it would be a huge ceremony at Morvunskar. You said you even had some magic staff there that would handle all the guests."

Bishop held in the growl building in his chest. Morvunskar was back in Eastmarch, right near Witchmist Grove. He pressed his lips firmly together and said, "Thanks Ysolda, sorry to bother you so late."

He turned to walk away when she called, "Did you... do you maybe want to spend the night?"

He glanced back at her. She was actually blushing. He smirked at her and said, "Couldn't do that to you again Ysolda. There's already a woman I love."

She scowled at him, "But you just said you broke up with her!"

"Yeah, broke it off with my side piece. Pretty sure my number one girl is waiting for me up in Morvunskar though."

She shot him a furious glare and shouted, "You disgusting womanizer!" Then slammed the door hard.

Bishop laughed and pressed on. All night it was then. Traveling through Skyrim, back to Eastmarch. The stallion's steady clacking against the cobblestone road nearly put him to sleep. He was absolutely exhausted and his head was still aching. He realized that he hadn't stopped to eat or drink anything all day. His tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth but he was nearly there. Please be there Rona...

He pulled the stallion to a stop, out of the way of the road and the view from the tower. Morvunskar was an old, broken down fort and from what he could see it was currently being occupied by a dozen mages.

"Great," he grit his teeth. It was times like these when he could really use Rona's magic or her shouts. Taking out a group of mages was like picking daisies for her. He was starting to realize just how much he appreciated having such a powerful woman by his side. She had to be in there. Bishop recalled the fact that Sam had been wearing mages garb himself and figured that he'd definitely had a spell put over him. What they wanted with Rona though, he had no idea. He actually hoped to the gods that she was safe.

He drew his dagger, deciding against his bow because firing arrows into a den of mages would just lead to them firing who knows what back at him in full force. He crept around, staying low and keeping quiet. The first mage was a pushover because he wasn't even paying attention at all, instead he was yawning and picking his nose.

Bishop got him by the neck, sliding his dagger through, ear to ear and yanking the body back out of sight. He just had to get by the brunt of them and into the keep, then he could move on from there. He slithered carefully around, keeping to the shadows and quickly cutting the throats of a few more mages before he made it to the entrance and slipped into the keep barring the door behind him.

Down he went, carefully treading along into an open room. He stuck to the walls and crept around the corner when he heard a pair of voices from the next room over. A man's voice said, "They drink all day and night, and what do I do?"

A woman replied, sighing, "You work the forge."

"I work the forge! Why do they need me to do this? We use magic, not weapons. I swear they're making me do this for a laugh," he paused before continuing, "At least they're not making me deal with the prisoners down below."

"Yeah, I don't know how I feel about what goes on down there."

"I bet Naris gets a kick out of it. Nasty fella he is."

"You'd better quiet down before you end up there. Then I'd have to work the forge."

Bishop got a queasy feeling in his stomach again, only this time it was because he was really worried for Rona. They were mages, so the kinds of horrors they could inflict on someone only fueled his imagination. He hurried along, taking some stairs down and brutally killing a few mages as he went.

His exhaustion was getting to him, however, and he made a grave mistake, taking a corner without looking and bumped right into a mage. He looked up at her stunned face and said, "Shit!"

The woman shrieked, throwing up the alarm and started casting icy spikes at him. His adrenaline woke him right up as his heart pound in his chest and he made a run for it. He ran through the halls, narrowly evading the spells being shot at him, left and right until one of them hit him right in the chest, throwing him back. It must have been a shock spell because his whole body shuddered and his muscles convulsed painfully. He scrambled to get to his feet as four mages approached him, hands glowing.

He slowly backed away as one of them said, "Don't kill him. Naris needs a new plaything."

Bishop scowled furiously. They needed a new one? Did that mean? It couldn't... They drew in closer to him and he kept backing up, then he tripped, falling backwards. This was it, they'd caught him for sure. He expected to hit solid ground and for them to all pounce on him, but instead he kept falling... and falling. His stomach flew into his throat until he smashed onto solid ground finally and looked around.

He was not in the fort anymore. In fact, it appeared that he was... outside... somewhere. He stood up, trying to get a bearing on his surroundings. He was in some forest. A light fog hovered over the colorful landscape and a nearby river. More magic? He wondered.

Then he heard a song carrying over the low hills in the distance.

(The song is Song of Joy by Erutan)

His pulse quickened and his heart pound in his chest, "Rona?" She was safe, she was alive. He started walking, following the sound of her beautiful voice. He strode over several stone bridges that led over the weaving river. The scent of the sweetest wine drifted over his nose. His stomach turned though, he'd had enough to drink to last him a lifetime, he was sure of it. Though he'd told himself that once before after getting sloshed on a jaunty pirate's stash.

As Bishop stepped into a low lit clearing he saw a group of people seated at a long table, enjoying a variety of liquor that filled the table. Bottles upon bottles of different ales, rums, meads, wines and everything in between sat there. Sam stood by, arms crossed, eyes bright red and bleary as he tapped his foot and swayed with her song.

Bishop came around and found Rona at the other end of the table, standing and playing a jovial tune on her lute while a few others accompanied her on their own instruments.

And she looked like hell. Like she'd been drinking for days. Eyes red and puffy, her hair was a mess and he was pretty sure wine was spilled all over the front of her dress. But she was alive and happy looking otherwise.

Bishop ran to her, just as her song finished and he grasped her shoulders, crying, "Ladyship!"

She smiled drunkenly at him and slurred, "Bishooop" She hugged him and he let her. He was never so happy to have her back in his arms than right now, she swayed against him then looked up and said, "You made it. You're here."

"Yeah Sweetness, I'm here. Spent all day and all night looking for you," he practically cried at the sight of her and caressed her reddened face.

"Mmm," she hugged him again and mumbled, "Missed you Florence."

He spoke automatically, "Wha- No, it's Laur... wait," he scowled at her, I didn't tell you that, did I? I must have been piss ass drunk if I told you... that."

She giggled at him and booped him on the nose, "S'okay. I'll tell you a secret. My middle name is Benanius," her glossed over eyes widened, "Can you believe it? My mother named me after some really, really old lady. Ata probably knew her..."

Bishop actually chuckled at her, "That might be even worse than my middle name."

She yawned and pressed her face against his chest and mumbled, "Let's just stay here, Bishop. Sam said we could."

"What?" He grasped her shoulders and pulled her back, "What are you talking about?" She didn't answer, seemingly confused. Too drunk to keep up with her own thoughts it seemed. He looked back at Sam and felt a rage building inside him. He pulled from Rona's grasp and stormed up to the man, dagger in hand and snarled, "THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO US!?"

Sam grinned at him and wobbled back and forth, "You know I was beginning to think you might not make it, even with my horse it sure took you a while. And he's fast!"

Bishop grabbed him by the scruff of his robes and directed his blade to the man's face. "Explain yourself mage, before I plunge it into your skull."

Sam smirked and looked at the dagger, bravely putting a finger to the tip of it. Bishop let it pierce his skin, he wasn't going to move. Sam blinked slowly and said, "I thought you might not remember your first trip here. You had a big night. I think you've definitely earned the staff."

Bishop growled deeply and roared, "ARGH! FUCK YOUR STAFF!"

"Oh come on now, don't be mad," Sam's body shuddered, which startled Bishop, making him release the man. As he took a step backward Sam was engulfed in a black smoke which vanished quite quickly, though he no longer stood there. Instead a terrifying creature, with curling horns, black and red skin, donning full daedric armor stood before him, towering another foot above him. Bishop gaped at the demon.

This new creature kept the same cheerful voice as Sam though when he spoke, "I really just needed something to encourage you to go out into the world and spread merriment!" The demon laughed and waved a clawed hand out, "And you did just that! I haven't been so entertained in at least a hundred years. Your companion is quite lovely as well. My, does she have a way with words."

Bishop looked back at Rona who'd sat down at the table and started playing her lute, entertaining the other drunks and completely ignoring the both of them, lost in her own world.

(The song is The Place I'll Return To Someday by Erutan)

He looked back at the demon, pointing his dagger out and demanded to know, "Who... what are you?"

The demon cocked his head and said, "Oh come now. You can't even try to guess? Here I'll give you a hint - Daedric Prince of Merriment and Debauchery! We know each other quite well Bishop. I've been keeping my eye on your for a long time now."

Bishop breathed, "Sanguine..."

Sanguine clapped his clawed hands together and punched the air shouting, "Hah! There it is!"

He shook his head, "But why? Why us? Why her? What did you do to her?"

"Oh the Dragonborn? I didn't do anything to her, just invited her along for a night of fun!" Sanguine started walking back and forth, grasping a claw to his chin and said, "You know, we've all been watching her progress quite closely now. She's doing well, but after seeing her struggling so much, I thought to myself, damn, that girl needs a break! And who better than I to give her just that? So I swooped in and decided to help her forget all those terrible things for a change. Give her a little fun for once!"

"Yeah? You plan on keeping her here? The fuck did she mean by that? Us stay here?" He looked around at the creepy ethereal forest, shrouded in mist.

"Oh that? Ah... I may have led her to believe she could live out her days in forgetful merriment here. Bit of a fib on my part..."

Bishop looked at the Daedric Prince incredulously.

Sanguine stopped pacing and threw his hands to his hips and said, "Well she wasn't enjoying herself otherwise! Still... I'll let you break the bad news to her. You're good at that sort of thing."

Bishop didn't know what to do, what to think. Here he was, talking to a Daedric Prince, a god, while his lover, Rona, sat by losing herself in another glass of wine, wishing she could stay here forever. This was some kind of twisted hell. It had to be. Still... it wasn't every day one had an opportunity to speak to a Daedric Prince either.

"What do you mean you've been watching her?"

Sanguine raised whatever semblance of eyebrows he had and said, "Well you know. She's the Dragonborn. Very special person, chosen by Akatosh and all that. Naturally we'd all have our eyes on her."

"The Daedra... and the Aedra?" Bishop continued questioning him.

"Definitely the Daedra, dunno what the Aedra are up to though. They like to keep to themselves you know, bunch of snobby types. But yeah, just keeping an eye on the girl. Alduin's a real force to be reckoned with. We're wondering how she'll fair against the old beast."

"You want her to fight him?"

Sanguine smirked at him, "Now, now. I may not always think things through, but I know when a mortal is asking too many questions. Go on now, get your girl and carry on back to Skyrim. You've still got a lot to do. Let me tell you something though Bish, I can tell, you're really going places."

It was odd hearing this demon speak his name as though they were old friends. Bishop sheathed his dagger and walked back over to Rona, gently pulling the lute from her. She pouted slightly but had no energy to hold on. He set it aside then grasped her under her arm and under her legs easily lifting her into his arms.

"Hmm," she mumbled quietly against his chest.

"We're going home now," he said, looking down at her sleepy face.

She said, "No... we have to stay here. Sam promised. He said I don't have to be the Dragonborn anymore. We can just stay, just you and me. Like you always wanted. Please don't make me go back Bishop, I don't want to. I don't want to lose you." She started crying into his shirt and he ran his lips over her forehead, a tear sparkling at his own eye as he felt her pain.

"Sorry Princess," he whispered sympathetically, "The world still needs you."

An ethereal portal formed in front of him and he glanced back at Sanguine who smiled and waved, calling, "Take care of her ranger! We're all counting on her you know."

Bishop clutched her close to him and turned away from the Daedric Prince, stepping into the void, leaving that strange place and hoping to never return.