Author's Note:

It's been a long night :D (and the day after), sorry about that. But adventures are coming ;) I hope you're all enjoying the second book, despite the plot being a bit heavy on the angst and awkwardness so far O:) But that was probably to be expected :D
In any case, I hope you'll enjoy the read. This chapter is very short, but it's a necessary setup.

Chapter VI – Time

"Princess… come on, don't go."

Bishop's words made her stop in her tracks for a spell, but she had no intention of staying again.

"I want to. I don't wanna fight," she sighed. She didn't want to talk at all, even if they weren't arguing. Even when they tried to talk casually, it always led to something uncomfortable and exasperating.

"So? We don't have to. We don't have to talk at all. Sweetness this is stupid. Let's just… go to Morthal together. Not like we never fought before and we could still stand to at least walk the same way," he scoffed. Whenever she got so adamant about leaving, it broke him down a little. He understood if she didn't want to deal with their problems or the past yet, but it always felt like she couldn't even stand the sight of him. He dreaded that being the truth.

"Things are different now…" she mumbled in response. Everything felt different now.

"Yeah, no shit," he scoffed. "Fuck. I feel like I can't say anything and get a response I would actually expect," he shook his head in exasperation.

"Oh, sorry I'm making it impossible for you to assume my reactions. Is it harder to lie to me and manipulate me that way?!" she spat at him as a scowl decorated her face instantly. Why would he need to know how she would react? To just pick and choose what to tell her so that she'd take him back. Did he not realize that he was doing the exact same thing that he had done before? He just assumed she would go after Thorn, disregard all his warnings and that was why he hid everything from her. He decided her reaction before she could! It made her oddly happy that he was so frustrated now, unable to do that again.

It was a little nerve-racking for her too though, she never knew what words would suddenly make her feel this way again. Angry and overwhelmed. Or just confused and scared of dealing with her thoughts.

"What?! That's not what I…" Bishop stared at her in initial shock before a desperate look took over his face. "Fuck." He looked both guilty and hurt at the same time.

Aeyrin could see that he was at the end of his rope there. She could see how desperately he didn't want things to leave off like this, how frustrated he got with the direction their talk took again.

It made her feel a little guilty too.

Now she felt like she was the one toying with his reactions. Although she never intended to.

She was right all along, this was a bad idea.

They ended on a good note back at the cabin. And she ruined it by chasing him down. Now things were only getting worse.

"Bishop, I… I should really go. Let's just… give it some time, please?" she gave him a regretful look. She wasn't sure if more time apart would fix anything, but she knew that she needed to get away from him before things got even worse again.

He didn't look very thrilled about that.

In fact, he looked almost heartbroken.

Divines, that just made her feel more awful.

This time, however, he didn't protest.

He still stood there in the middle of the road as she turned his back to him and headed towards Morthal in quick strides.

She didn't have the heart to look back.

She just couldn't see that expression again.

…

That was probably enough… he needed to get to Winterhold already.

Bishop woke up with a splitting headache as he barely managed to crawl out of his bed at the Nightgate Inn. He'd spent the last two days at the tavern, drinking. He needed to wipe the last conversation with Aeyrin from his head and this was the only way he could think of.

It didn't really work, but it managed to numb him a little to what had happened. At least for a while.

But he needed to move on to Winterhold now. At least the heist would distract him enough. And he still wanted to look into the Elder Scrolls while he was there. He was pretty curious himself to see what he could dig up. He just hoped that it wasn't some other ancient prophecy spelling Aeyrin's inevitable doom.

If he packed up now, he could get to Winterhold by the evening. Enthir was waiting for him there at the inn every night since Karliah had notified him. Well… he would probably be waiting there anyway – no reason to feel guilty about that. Besides, what else was there to do in Winterhold other than drink? And Enthir was running his business from the tavern too.

Maybe Bishop could even get some fancy magic stuff from the elf, spend some of the gold from the bounty. He wasn't sure what though. He had both his weapons enchanted as well as the ring muffling his movement and the one allowing him to breathe underwater. He could not think of much else that he would need.

With a tired sigh he got up from the bed and gathered his things.

With some luck, the cool outside air would help him get over the hangover.

…

The long journey to Winterhold didn't really help Bishop's state all that much.

The hangover subsided, but his mood hadn't really improved. He kept going over the conversation with Aeyrin in his head, as if that would give him any more insight into what the future held for them.

She said to 'give it time'. Time for what? And how long? How long would he be forced into this fucking uncertainty? At times, he was sure that she wanted him back, that she wanted to make things right too, but she was too wary and cautious. Other times, he feared that she only didn't want to hurt him by rejecting him for good. He didn't understand at all what more time apart would achieve – he knew what he wanted the minute she walked out of the door of the old cabin in Falkreath.

Fuck, he knew the minute she uttered those words, the minute she told him that she was leaving him.

He knew that he needed to get her back. That he needed her in his life.

He'd never thought that he would come to care about her this much. After Jules died, he didn't think that he would be capable of caring about anyone ever again. But only with her around he realized how much he missed it – having someone to trust, someone to feel close to.

There was no way in Oblivion that he would give that up.

He entered The Frozen Hearth while brushing off the fresh snow from his shoulders.

He didn't even stop at the tavern and headed straight towards the basement. He noticed Enthir upstairs but he didn't signal him in any way, in order to remain inconspicuous. The elf must have seen him enter after all. So Bishop merely stopped by the loud vats downstairs and started to take off his armor.

He didn't even manage to finish when he noticed Enthir making his way towards him, so he quickly took off the rest of his leather cuirass and stashed it in his pack.

"Bishop, right?" Enthir looked him over a little suspiciously.

Bishop nodded in response and without another word, the elf slipped behind the vat into the secret room there.

The room still looked like it did the last time Bishop was there – the papers with various scripts and large red numbers were still plastered all over the walls and there was a myriad of magical trinkets stashed in the corner.

Bishop's attention was quickly drawn towards the tall stack of books among the enchanted weapons.

While Enthir situated himself by the table, shuffling some papers around, Bishop approached the stack, and looked over the names printed onto their spines. A lot of them seemed to be concerned with some sorts of magical theorems and alchemical studies. None of them even mentioned the Scrolls.

He would likely not find anything useful there.

He turned back towards Enthir and walked to the table to face him.

"So… first things first," Enthir looked up at him with a serious expression. "If you mess up, this is not coming back to me, understood? I will not have my position at the College compromised by an incompetent thief. You fuck up, you deal with the consequences. And you will never mention me or Karliah to anyone, understood?"

Bishop scoffed at him with a nod. Was that even necessary to say? He was no amateur that would instantly rat out his contacts, for fuck's sake.

"Good. Now, for the details. I assume that you went over the brief, but still. We'll go through everything again to make sure you don't fuck up. This is an integral part of the plan," Enthir continued. He was starting to piss Bishop off with that attitude. He was not in the mood for this.

"It's up to you how you get to the College. Karliah assured me that you have your means, so I will not be getting you access, understood?" Enthir scowled again. Fucking annoying elf. "You will be spending your time in the library there. You better make yourself look busy. If you just stand there by the wall and look suspicious, everyone will be on alert. So borrow some books and if you can't read, fake it, for Gods' sake."

Bishop rolled his eyes at him. Seriously, this guy…

"Your target is a book, obviously. It's a study of Tsaesci and Akaviri languages. It's called 'Linguistic History and Discourse Studies of Eastern Cultures'. You better remember that title. It is a rare and really old book, so it's under the highest security. Which means that it's locked tight in a glass cabinet right behind Urag's desk," Enthir took out one of the blueprints from the table and showed it to Bishop, pointing out a small rectangle by what was marked as 'desk'. Not that he needed to see that… a glass cabinet behind the Orc's desk was clear enough.

"You might have noted that I mentioned it was a 'glass' cabinet. In case you didn't connect the dots, it means that if there's a missing book, Urag will notice instantly. That's why we made this," Enthir stood up and rummaged in a chest by the table. He pulled out a very old-looking book which looked like it would fall into dust in his hands at any moment. He placed the book on the table, showing it to Bishop. There was an imprinted title in a golden font: 'Linguistic History and Discourse Studies of Eastern Cultures'.

"If you have a fucking fake, why do you need the real one? Aren't you after the information and not the book?" Bishop raised his brow at him. The book was likely worth a lot in its original form, but he thought that this was about Gallus's journal, not about a quick profit.

"This one's obviously empty, nimrod. We don't know what's in the book," Enthir scoffed back at him.

"Well, you're a College member, right? Can't you just borrow the book and copy it or something? Why the fuck are we going through all this trouble?" Bishop challenged him again. He was so tired of the elf's insults.

"It's old. And priceless. I'd need explicit permission from the Arch-Mage and for that, I'd need to make a thesis proposal and justify my need for that material. There would be a hearing and shit. It would take too long. We didn't know that we needed this, but our latest decryptions suggest that there are elements of the Eastern Languages in Gallus's code," Enthir rolled his eyes at him.

"How did Gallus even know these languages then? Isn't there another source?" Bishop retorted instantly. If it was so hard to get this book, Gallus must have gotten the information elsewhere.

"Well, Gallus had the advantage of being extra chummy with the Arch-Mage. And since neither of us has that card in our sleeve, this is what we're going with. Look, if you're not up for this, just say so now. We don't get an infinite number of chances to do this, you know," Enthir gave him a challenging look, scowling fiercely.

"I can handle it!" Bishop growled. He did like the challenge. Getting past the Orc would require a lot of patience, but it was worth it just for the thrill of this.

"Fine. I have something else for you. A secure box for the book. Like I said, it's old. You could damage it. This way, I will have at least some assurance that it will survive your pack," Enthir got up again and rummaged in the chest once more before he pulled out a sturdy book-sized wooden box. He put it on the table next to the fake book and opened it, then he placed the fake book inside carefully. "Just switch them discreetly and then get the real one back to me. Don't dally with it anywhere!"

Bishop took the box from Enthir with a growl and stashed it into his pack. A second later, he made a point of tapping his foot impatiently to see if the elf had anything more to say.

"Now… Urag," Enthir nodded at Bishop. "He spends all day in the library and when he sleeps, the library is locked. Don't even bother thinking of sneaking in after hours. It won't work. The door is secured with magical locks and barriers. There are too many priceless pieces there for the College to risk them. Also, stupid Ancano is snooping too much and Aren wants him to stay away from that place. He would turn the library upside down only to find some incriminating book on Talos or some shit like that," the elf shook his head morosely.

'Ancano'? Judging from Enthir's talk of books on Talos, he must have been the Thalmor that had interrogated Bishop and Aeyrin about that glowing orb and about the Blades. Unless there were even more Thalmor at the College. Bishop didn't know who the fuck Aren was either, but it hardly mattered.

"So, what you need to do is… bide your time. I have Urag's general schedule. He does rounds over the library to check on the books, and he also goes into a small alcove to eat his meals – away from the books. I suspect that he would rather kill himself than stain one accidentally," Enthir chuckled. "It's just what I observed of his behavior, so it's in no way universally reliable. You will need to watch him carefully. But for fuck's sake, be subtle. And make sure that no students are around either, understood?"

Bishop nodded again with a barely contained growl. That all went without saying. Who the fuck did Enthir think he was dealing with?

"Is that all?" Bishop gave him a tired look.

"Yeah. Don't fuck this up and don't damage the book in any way. We'll be returning it to the College when we have what we need."

That was rather surprising. Bishop was sure that the book would fetch a lot of drakes. It was oddly… noble. Sometimes Karliah seemed so zealous in her hunt for revenge. He understood that, but that didn't stop him from wondering if she would gradually turn more and more callous. If she would simply become another Mercer, it would hardly solve anything. He would not have that hanging around his neck. Soon enough, she would start asking him or Aeyrin for 'favors' and wreaking havoc if they refused.

No. This needed to end. Karliah needed to be different.

And if she wasn't… well… he would make sure that she ended up the same way that Mercer was about to.

Bishop nodded and turned on his heel, eager to leave the elf.

A drink sounded so good right then, but… there was the danger of him overdoing it in his current mood.

He needed to keep a clear head for tomorrow.

The evening was still rather young though.

He could just spend his time thinking about what exactly could be useful to search for regarding the Elder Scrolls.

If Aeyrin made anything clear, it was the fact that all he had now was time.

And he had no desire to spend it wallowing in self-pity again.