The celebrations at the College were in full swing, late into the night.
The relief was constantly etched on everyone's faces while they drank, laughed and feasted merrily. The mages were not very concerned about losing their powerful artifacts – in fact, they seemed to be really relieved that the Psijic monks took the Staff and the Eye with them. So were Bishop and Aeyrin, for that matter. The mages could obviously not be trusted to be responsible with such power.
The two of them were constantly questioned about their journey to get the Staff and all the mages listened with rapt attention to their recountings. It was certainly nice to be recognized for their efforts after the ordeal that they had gone through and the mages could really use some humbling. Admitting to themselves that they created a problem which their own magic couldn't have handled alone was a good step to make them learn some responsibility with the secrets that they were always so eager to uncover.
It felt a little strange to Aeyrin though. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to being celebrated, though maybe not at this scope, but she couldn't help but think about Darren from time to time.
He didn't stay for the celebrations for very long. In fact, he retreated back into his chambers after only an hour or so. Aeyrin told herself that he was just tired after their ordeal, but deep inside, she knew why he left. Now that she knew how unappreciated he felt at the College, it was painfully easy to see the signs. The mages were constantly fawning over the two of them while Darren got overlooked and ignored. It was as if nobody wanted to accept the fact that he was an integral part of their salvation. They constantly congratulated Faralda for controlling the Staff and they praised Tolfdir for handling the organization of their efforts to hold the barrier, but nobody even acknowledged Darren.
And Aeyrin couldn't stop thinking about their exchange in Labyrinthian.
They almost killed him. They jumped to conclusions instantly and they were ready to slaughter an unhappy, broken man, because they didn't like him. They would have given anyone kinder the benefit of the doubt, but not him. This shouldn't have been their reaction. When Bishop pointed his sword at Darren, Aeyrin didn't think, even for a second, that he was approaching the situation in the wrong way. In fact, she fully expected him to just… kill Darren. And she wouldn't have batted an eye.
Bishop was the one who restrained himself and waited for an explanation. She didn't even think about it. And she actually expected him to kill the mage without getting her own hands dirty.
It was a bitter and sobering feeling. She let herself get so jaded, even though she constantly reminded herself not to.
"Come on, love." Bishop suddenly tore her from her ruminations as he draped his arm over her shoulder and planted a comforting kiss on her temple. She didn't even realize how morose she must have been looking until now. He could clearly see that something was bothering her and, by now, he knew her all too well to guess what it was.
"He made us think that he tried to kill us. Twice. On purpose. This was on him. And nothing happened," he gave her a small reassuring smile. It wasn't surprising that he could rationalize this away. And he wasn't exactly wrong.
But it still bothered her how easy it became for her to use other people in order to solve her problems without having her own conscience threatened. Her mind went instantly back to the Alik'r warrior that she had Raven kill. Rationally, she knew that it was the right thing to do just then, just like she could rationally say that threatening to kill Darren was justifiable, given their history. But… she still wondered what Master Therien would think about these conundrums. She was sure that he would not think about them so favorably.
This was not how she was supposed to solve her problems.
But what else was she to do? The world didn't provide her with countless kinder alternatives.
Except for Darren. They didn't need to do that, they could have just confronted him with their suspicion, without the sword, without the threats. It wasn't as if he was a danger to them in combat. Yet she never questioned this approach before.
Too much had happened to numb her to these situations.
"Hey, princess," Bishop nudged her again when her thoughts drifted off once more. Maybe she should already stop obsessing over this. She could talk to Darren tomorrow and apologize. Maybe that would make her feel better. She couldn't change the past, but she could at least make the present a little better. She should have talked to him about this throughout their journey, but she was too anxious to do it.
With a resigned sigh, she looked at Bishop at last and waited for him to continue.
"How about we find that… Gane guy, or whatever? That Dwemer expert? Maybe he will know more about the entrance to Blackreach."
Aeyrin knew that he had only suggested this to take her mind off things, but it wasn't a bad idea, actually. Maybe they would find out that they didn't really need to bleed and soul trap people. That would certainly be comforting.
"Yeah. Let's do that."
…
Arniel Gane was sitting at the end of the long table, drinking heavily. He was celebrating just like the rest of the mages and he greeted the two of them with a bright smile.
"Ah! Here's to our saviors!" he chuckled and raised his goblet in celebration before a loud round of cheers echoed from the mages in his vicinity at his words.
"Thank you," Aeyrin smiled at him bashfully as they both sat at the table opposite him. "You're Arniel Gane, right? The Dwemer expert?"
Arniel's face twisted into a bit of a morose expression, but he still chuckled at that. "An expert on the Dwemer. I am not a 'Dwemer', so to speak," he laughed. "And before you ask, no, I will not pay for your junk. Ask Enthir at our shop. I have no need for your trinkets."
"Oh. It's nothing like that," Aeyrin shook her head, but she was a little taken aback by the reaction. Calcelmo – the only other Dwemer expert… or expert on the Dwemer, was certainly all too eager to get a hold of their loot from the ruins. And they certainly had a lot to sell this time around too. It was a little disappointing that they would likely get next to nothing for it from the College.
"We wanna ask about something," Bishop continued instead of her. "Blackreach. You know about it?"
"Of course. An ancient crossroads complex between the cities. What of it?" Arniel nodded at them.
"We saw an entrance to Blackreach in Mzulft, but the Synod mages said that it was broken. We… saw another back at Raldbthar. We would like to test if it was operational, but… we're not sure how to work the mechanism," Aeyrin tried to explain as briefly as she could. Gane didn't really seem eager to talk about this, for some odd reason.
"Why? For more 'artifacts'?" he scoffed at her.
"Sure. Does it matter?" Bishop scowled at him in response. What did he care? Wasn't it a good thing to have these places explored?
"It doesn't. It precisely doesn't matter," Arniel shook his head at them. "I do not know how the entrances work and I do not care if they remain buried. I am a scholar. Your coin purses are not my concern. Go plunder another ruin if you want treasure."
"But, wouldn't you want the entrance opened? You could study Blackreach too," Aeyrin raised her brow at him. Didn't Calcelmo have her describe this entrance mechanism in great detail before? Wasn't Arniel interested in this too?
"What for? What is there to uncover but more metal and machines of ordinary use? My dear, the Dwemer magic is gone. There is no point in studying their machines, we know how they work and they are too complex for ordinary use. There is only one thing that the Dwemer have to offer for us and it is their biggest secret. That is what I research. I research the disappearance of the Dwarves. I know the history and I know what I need to further my research. I know for a fact that Blackreach does not hold any of Kagrenac's tools, because I have already learned of their location. Once I have them, I will uncover the greatest mystery of Tamriel's history and I will find the Dwemer. The simpletons who claim to study the Dwemer now can content themselves with broken machinery and latent magic. I have much bigger goals in my sights," Gane nodded somewhat haughtily before he took another deep swig from his goblet.
That was… a lofty goal. Was he just insane or did he really believe that he could find the actual Dwemer?
"S-so… you're not interested in their history at all?" Aeyrin gaped at him. It was certainly not what she had expected from a Dwemer scholar.
"The Dwemer aren't dead, girl. And if you find their ruins impressive, imagine how much they have developed in the centuries since their disappearance, wherever they are. That is the technology and magic that we need. That is the power that can help us build our world into something beyond our wildest imaginations."
"But they disappeared," Bishop scoffed at him. "Why would you even assume that they're alive? Don't you think that if they could come back, they would?"
"The most ingenious race of our history wouldn't just crumble. And why would they return? To their withering cities and to this unevolved world? Why would they leave their current advanced society?" Arniel scoffed at him.
"You assume a lot," Bishop shook his head. They were definitely long dead. Why wouldn't they be? Where would they even be now?
"Think what you will. I am not here to convince you, I am here to find a way to reach them. If you want stories and treasures from a long lost past, go bother that unimaginative simpleton in Markarth. He's all obsessed with the Dwemer history and the broken junk that they have left behind," the mage rolled his eyes derisively.
He clearly had no inclination to discuss this any longer as he turned towards the Dunmer Master of illusion who was sitting by his side, ignoring the two of them altogether.
Aeyrin turned her eyes to Bishop instead, but he promptly interrupted her intended question.
"No."
"But…"
"No Markarth! Sweetness, you know this," Bishop groaned in frustration. It was one of the few cities that was still likely too dangerous for them to wander into. Maybe he was overreacting, but was it really so baffling that he wanted to keep them away from Mercer's associates? Especially after what happened with that Silver-Blood scum the last time.
"But this is important, Bishop!" Aeyrin whined at him. "What if there's a way to get to Blackreach right now? We could just get the… you know what, and… solve this all. Now."
"You know that we can't. We still need the old man to learn more and to contact the priests and shit. We need to know how that thing works. It will take time. We can use that time to get the key from that madman. There's no point rushing this."
"But who knows how long that would take? And what if that hermit was lying? We don't know him. Isn't it better to have options?" she tried to convince him again.
She had a point, but Bishop still didn't want to go to Markarth.
"Just… fuck. Let's not talk about this here," he grumbled. "Let's go to bed, sweetness, we can discuss this later."
…
"Alright, alright. Let's get into this. I know that you're dying to."
Bishop rolled his eyes as they finally settled into their single bed in their designated borrowed room at the Hall of Attainment. For the entire rest of the evening, when they were saying their goodbyes for the night to the mages, Aeyrin was obviously fidgety as arguments for going to Markarth kept popping into her head most likely. She seemed excited about the prospect of talking to Calcelmo about Blackreach, and Bishop couldn't deny that checking for more options was a good idea, but… it was Markarth. The one place that was still in Mercer's pocket. It was such an unnecessary risk.
"I just… we don't know what that hermit has hidden behind the ice and we're helping him get it, just because he claims that the key is there. Isn't it best to find out if we can go… around him? It's a crazy mage. I would think that we know by now what those are capable of," Aeyrin tried to make her point instantly as she curled by his side on the small bed and started gently running her hand over his pecs.
"Yeah. I know. I get that. But we know that the Silver-Bloods will soon likely abandon Mercer too. Why not just wait? We don't have to go there right now. We can wait until things settle so that we don't have to worry about that fucking bounty," Bishop let out a sigh. Avoiding people who were a danger to him had always been his tried and true tactic. It was the best solution right now.
"That means nothing! The Black-Briars have abandoned Mercer too and look where it got us! If Thongvor is angry enough about the ambush, he won't care about his family's connections, not when he has his own plans. Sibbi didn't," Aeyrin scowled at him. Even if the bounty was gone completely, even if Mercer was dead, who was to say that Thongvor wouldn't try anything just out of revenge?
"See? That's only more reason to avoid him," Bishop shook his head in response. It wasn't a really convincing argument on her part. It only made him more reluctant.
"I want to go to Markarth, not to have dinner with Thongvor. Bish, I… I don't wanna keep hiding like this. We've spent months avoiding the majority of cities in Skyrim because of this. But… Thorn's dead and most of his bandits are dead and Mercer has lost so much. Why should we still hide like this?"
"You think that that means he's not dangerous? Did you miss that part at the safehouse? And that was just some stupid warning of his. He didn't even know that it was me who would be in there. Imagine what he would have done if he knew. And you got ambushed by those fucking bandits too!" Bishop let out another exasperated sigh. He understood her reasoning. He didn't want to cower in front of Mercer any more than she did, but… her safety was more important than their pride. "Look, I get it. But we're so close, sweetness. We can just wait a little longer. You know that we're gonna be rid of Frey soon."
"Are we?" Aeyrin gave him a doubtful expression. "What are we doing Bishop? Deciphering some journal, hunting treasure, just so that he doesn't get it first? Why? To prevent him from getting more power, more men? Why don't we just take that chance from him? Why are we waiting? Why don't we just march into that Guild and end him? He has no one left."
"That's not true," Bishop shook his head regretfully. "You think I haven't pushed Karliah to do this? But… it's more complicated than that. Half of the Guild is still on his side. Not just people like Ravyn. If this confrontation is forced, there will be slaughter. People won't stand for Karliah ruining the Guild. Even Brynjolf told me that if she tries this, he won't support her. None of the Guild members will kill each other for her vengeance, whether they hate Mercer or not. They're family. She's not. Not anymore. As much as I want to, she's right. This can't be rushed. Otherwise the Guild will turn against us all completely. And besides… they don't want Mercer dead. He's one of them. They just want to take him down. But… Karliah wants him dead."
"Do you?" Aeyrin looked at him curiously. She was starting to think that they were just mindlessly following Karliah lately, without even stopping to question, but that was apparently only her. Bishop was obviously a lot more informed about the state of affairs. And for the first time, she found herself wondering where he stood. From his words, it sounded like he would rather have a solution to the problem now than help Karliah in her revenge. Maybe if they went after Mercer without the clear intent to kill him, the Guild would be on their side already.
"I want him dealt with no matter the way. But… he sent Jules to his death and he sent his fucking bandits after you. He will die for that. Soon. But I don't care if the Guild is pried from him while he's still breathing. That's the priority now – to get rid of his influence." Bishop was talking through gritted teeth the entire time, but that was understandable. Mercer was a thorn in his side for such a long time. It must have been difficult to contend with this while victory was always just so close, but still out of reach.
But wasn't that more of a reason to stop living in fear? They were so close and they had so many allies in this fight now. But the threat of the dragons wasn't getting any smaller the more time they spent hiding from the bounty.
"We will deal with him. But… he's not the only one that needs to be dealt with," Aeyrin sat up on the bed for a while to look him in the eyes properly with her hand still pressed comfortingly on his chest.
Bishop only let out another sigh in response as his hand gently cupped her cheek for a while. He lowered the hand to her arm in a second and he started to nudge her slowly so that she would lie back down next to him. "Come here, love." She settled by his side, nestled to his flank with her leg draped over his and her head comfortably resting on his shoulder. Bishop kept playing with the ends of her locks idly, although he had to roam his hand around her back at first to actually locate the spot where her hair ended. He wasn't used to the shorter one.
"We're gonna need some ground rules," he nodded determinedly after a while.
"What?" Aeyrin really had to suppress a giggle as she asked. 'Rules'? What was that about? Since when was he fond of rules?
"For Markarth. We're going only if we're careful. There won't always be some barbarians to rescue you, you know?" he scoffed derisively.
"Of course we'll be careful! I just want to talk to Calcelmo. And… maybe sell the loot from Mzulft? And our armors could use some tending by that Orcish smith and her apprentice. And maybe shop a little or… I don't know. I feel like we got chased out of the city without even properly seeing it," Aeyrin was starting to plan already. It was as if she didn't even hear him.
"This is why you need the rules. I can already see it, you wanna go running around the city and talking to every idiot around. You don't know who's working for the Silver-Bloods. Even Calcelmo could be under their thumbs! The second someone asks you to help them with some shit, you're back to being ambushed again," Bishop grumbled.
"Hey! I'm not a child that needs to be curbed from doing something stupid!"
"You are a spoiled little brat who will instantly go to 'talk things through' with Thongvor the second she sees him," Bishop narrowed his eyes at her, and he already knew that he wasn't far from the truth. It was what she wanted to do after that ambush in the first place and now he could already imagine how she would start buttering Bishop up right at the Markarth gates – about how dealing with this would be so much easier than having an enemy at their backs or some shit like that. It was too risky.
"Pfft… no… I mean… wouldn't it be better to deal with…?"
"Stop," Bishop interrupted her argument instantly with a growl. He almost asked her whether it was really that fucking hard not to provoke people, but he stopped himself. It wasn't as if he was exactly guilt-free in that regard. The fact that he had provoked dangerous powerful people before was the exact reason why they were in this situation in the first place. But that didn't change the fact that they needed to be extra careful about things in Markarth. Silver-Bloods were too cunning to be dismissed. "We'll go to Markarth, but you're not gonna do anything stupid like that."
"Or what?" Aeyrin giggled at him. She wasn't exactly planning on straining his nerves in there, it would be too cruel, but this whole talk of rules and him actually chastising her on how to behave was still quite amusing. It was usually the other way around when it came to dealing with people.
"Or…" Bishop creased his brows in consideration before he turned over to his side to face her. His hand instantly started to stroke over her arm, clothed in his old black tunic, before he ran it over her flank and down to her buttocks. He snuck his hand under the shirt suddenly and, without warning, he planted a sharp smack on her asscheek, eliciting a surprised yelp from her. "Or I'm gonna spank you till your ass turns bright red, you little brat."
She couldn't help but giggle again at how ridiculous he was being. He obviously wasn't being serious, but even if he was, he didn't really expect that to be a deterrent, did he? She knew how enjoyable he could make something like that.
"Really?" she smirked at him while her cheeks flushed crimson just at the thought of that. She leaned closer to him and captured his lips with hers with palpable excitement while his hand, which was still gently lying on her buttocks, started to squeeze her hungrily as their kiss deepened.
"Fuck. Should have known that that's no punishment," Bishop chuckled under his breath as they parted their lips after a rather long time. "Fine. Not that." He obviously started to ponder again, but he was continuously being disrupted by Aeyrin's teasing kisses and nips on his lips and jaw while she started running her hand over his bare back slowly.
"Hmm… I know," Bishop murmured after a while of trying to contemplate. "I have a better idea." Aeyrin still continued gently nipping at his lower lip whenever he tried to speak, interrupting him constantly by eliciting groans from him. She was clearly intent on distracting him from thinking up a punishment for her since she started adamantly pushing herself into the touch of his hand while her leg hooked over his and her calf started to run over the back of it. But he wouldn't be deterred. He would think of a better punishment for her.
"I'm gonna tie you up to a bed somewhere," he started explaining his new plan in a low and palpably lascivious voice to her while they continued to kiss and grope each other teasingly. "Naked. For like an entire fucking day. Or maybe longer. And… I'm going to be doing this, all the time." Aeyrin could just hear the somewhat strained and malicious tone in his voice before his hand snuck to her front quickly. He immediately started to rub his fingers between her folds, eliciting a loud gasp from her. She really wasn't sure how that was supposed to punish her. She couldn't help but groan at the sensations running through her body while his fingers worked on sending jolts of pleasure through her core.
"And then…" Bishop kept murmuring in a low voice while he continued to tease her for a few more seconds. "When you're really close, I'll stop."
Suddenly, his hand left her, eliciting a surprised whimper out of her. It was frustrating, but luckily he didn't keep that treatment up for so long before – it could have been worse. He did make his point though, but maybe not in the way that he wanted.
"I'm gonna be doing that to you all day," he continued to explain his plan quietly while he interrupted his own speech way too often in order to kiss her deeply and press her body against his firmly. That threat of his was really starting to have an opposite effect on her, but, then again, it sounded kind of exciting from the start. She always loved the teasing and she loved it when he tied her up too. He really wasn't very good at threatening her, surprisingly enough.
"You'll be all tied up, always so close," he groaned again in her ear. "And I'm not gonna let you come. You'll just be taking care of my needs the entire time. But you won't even be able to touch yourself while…" He kissed her deeply again, letting his tongue probe her eagerly, as he squeezed her buttocks in another hungry grip. "While I just keep teasing you, over and… over."
Aeyrin let out a little moan of pleasure of her own when his breath tickled her face as he spoke, but a second later, she earned another smack to her asscheek suddenly.
"Hey! Stop getting turned on! It's supposed to be a punishment," Bishop growled at her.
"Stop talking… in that voice…" she groaned in response. He was doing that on purpose. He couldn't have actually thought that something like this would ever serve to deter her, right? With incentives like these, she might actually go out of her way to do something stupid in Markarth.
"Ugh… fuck, this is your fault!" Bishop let out frustrated a huff of breath and it seemed like he tried to disentangle himself from their embrace, but he did that very poorly and he only ended up grabbing her by the arm before he captured her lips in another deep kiss again. He was clearly not in the right mindset to let go of her. "I can't… fucking… think straight."
Aeyrin only giggled at his frustration and she pressed herself closer to him again. "Don't think then," she smirked before she snuck her hand between their bodies and started to slowly and teasingly run it down over his torso and towards his groin.
Bishop abruptly grabbed her hand before it could reach lower, despite his frustrations. This time, he actually did tear himself away from her embrace and he quickly sat up on the bed. He would come up with a good punishment. Without getting distracted by her.
"No. New plan. We'll both be fully clothed, nothing you'd enjoy. And… I don't know… we'll be doing like the most boring shit ever. Like sorting loot. For a week." He folded his arms across his chest stubbornly and he refused to look back at her as she still lay on the bed, so frustratingly inviting. This sounded like an actual punishment. It sounded boring as fuck. Although…
Before he could ponder on his new plan any further, Aeyrin burst out in a hearty laugh. "That is so much worse for you than it is for me. I don't actually mind doing that, you know? Who are you trying to punish again?" she snickered at him. And he would not stay 'fully clothed' with her for an entire week. Not that she wouldn't be tempted, but she was pretty sure that he would crack first.
"Well… then… fuck! No, wait! I'll think of some… wait…" Suddenly he stopped himself and he finally looked back at her. Now he was wearing a disturbingly malicious and smug smile on his face. "I've got it."
"Pfft. No you don't," Aeyrin scowled, but his expression made her a little nervous. He couldn't think of anything to punish her, right? She couldn't even imagine what it could be.
"You break the rules, and I won't cook. For a month," he instantly gave her a victorious smirk.
"What?! No! What will we eat?" Aeyrin's eyes widened and she quickly sat up on the bed too with an accusing look on her face.
"Your food, obviously," Bishop snickered at her.
"But… see… that's punishment for you again."
"Uh-uh. You know that I don't care. You do." He gave her a challenging look. This was the perfect idea. She was so obsessed with his cooking; she would definitely not relish the prospect of going a whole month without it because she was being reckless.
"I… But… Fine! What are your 'rules'?" Aeyrin scoffed derisively at him and she folded her arms stubbornly across her chest.
Bishop's smug expression turned surprisingly affectionate for a minute. Maybe he was a little touched that it was his cooking that actually worked the magic, not that he would ever admit it. He laid down on the bed promptly and he dragged her along with him, settling them both into their previous close embrace, before he began talking again.
"Alright. First, and this should be fucking obvious, no talking or even making fucking eye-contact with any of the Silver-Bloods. Especially Thongvor. You know what? Anyone who's dressed in something fancy, just pretend not to notice them. That will be the safest option."
Aeyrin only rolled her eyes as she started to run her hand over his chest again. Maybe she could distract him properly from this lecture. They haven't had any time for themselves for so long with Darren constantly at their heel. But… he did seem really worried about Markarth. Maybe she should just let him comfort himself with these rules.
"Second, we are not separating, not even for a minute. Not under any circumstances," he declared adamantly.
"What?" Aeyrin scoffed at him instantly. "Well this got creepy fast," she couldn't help but snicker a little, but she still kind of meant it. He probably didn't consider that plan in very much detail.
"'Creepy'? Why 'creepy'? It's not like we don't practically do everything toge-… well… alright, not everything. Just, you know what I meant. No gallivanting alone around the city," Bishop let out a resigned sigh. She knew what he meant, she was just poking holes into it to wind him up. But this was still important to him. They already had to be on guard constantly, especially with the Brotherhood after him, and going into the belly of another beast was just… nerve-racking.
"Fine. Whatever you want," Aeyrin chuckled. It wasn't something that she would actually mind, if it put him at ease. "Now, is that it? Can we finally…" She ran her hand lower along his abdomen, but once again, Bishop stopped her abruptly.
"One more thing." Bishop kept his hand on hers, holding them firmly against his chest to prevent them from wandering. He knew that this rule would be the most difficult one for her. "The last time I was near Markarth… I didn't go inside the city, but… the rumors were all over the Hold. There's some shit going on. With the Forsworn and the Silver-Bloods. I don't know what. People said that there's been some Forsworn attacks inside the city. And the soldiers are bringing in a lot more Forsworn for Cidhna Mine because the Silver-Bloods are retaliating. Look, I don't know what's happening, or if it's still happening, but the point is, for fuck's sake, don't get involved."
"Wait… what? What attacks? And what's Cidhna Mine?" Aeyrin's eyes went wide. Whatever was going on, it didn't sound good. After what she had seen with the Azshan in the Reach, she knew that neither side was really coming off clean in this conflict, but… then again, that was definitely true for any war. Bishop may have had a point about not getting involved, but… that still didn't stop her curiosity.
"See? This is exactly what I'm talking about," he let out a deep exasperated sigh. "I don't know the details. Just Forsworn attacking random people inside Markarth, which doesn't normally happen. All the Forsworn let into the city are usually the ones that denounced that shit, or… prisoners of war. That's what Cidhna Mine is – the mine in Markarth. It's owned by the Silver-Bloods and the Jarl sends prisoners to work off their sentences. But… they never do. Which is another reason to stay the fuck away. You can't get yourself arrested in Markarth. It's worse than the Chill. And pissing off the Silver-Bloods gets you arrested."
Aeyrin's brows creased deeply at his words. She wasn't planning on getting arrested of course, but that sounded despicable. How could the Jarl allow the Silver-Bloods to enslave prisoners in their mine? Did any petty thief and disorderly drunk just get thrown in there for the rest of their lives? And the Forsworn… Bishop said that they were 'prisoners of war'. That likely only meant that they were captured in the wilderness without as much as a provocation.
"Princess," Bishop's voice carried a palpably warning tone. He could almost see her mind already wandering to whatever injustices the people of Markarth suffered. But this was only the most perfect way to get herself thrown inside the mine alongside everyone else.
"I know! I'm just…" Aeyrin sighed, but he quickly interrupted her again.
"Yeah, that's why I mentioned it. The Silver-Bloods obviously don't care about the dragons enough to keep you alive, so they sure as fuck won't care about having you thrown into their mine. You know that they have no bandits now and… maybe that's actually why the Forsworn got bolder, but… anyway, you know that Karliah's working on getting them on our side now that she has Maven's mercenaries. So, if you really need to meddle into those fucking politics, just, wait, at least, until that happens."
Aeyrin nodded silently in response. He would have definitely preferred if she just stayed away from this whole shitstorm entirely, but he knew all too well how easily she got dragged into this kind of stuff, willingly or not. Someone was always eager to involve her, even if she by some fucking miracle wanted to stay away.
Another reason why going to Markarth was a terrible idea. But she was too stubborn for her own good. He wouldn't have been able to deter her anyway once she got it in her head that Calcelmo would suddenly solve all their dragon problems.
At the very least, he could ensure that their visit was not life-threatening.
Well… as much as he could. If Thongvor, or someone else, really wanted to do something to Aeyrin again, he wasn't sure if he could stop it. Why couldn't they just have regular people for enemies? Why did it always have to be some insanely rich megalomaniac or war general or the most influential thief in the underworld. He kind of wished that Darren actually did want to kill them back in Labyrinthian. It would have been somewhat refreshing to have an enemy without an endless number of supporters and resources.
Ugh… he really didn't want to think about all of this anymore. It's been days since he could enjoy being alone with Aeyrin and this was what they were spending time on?
It was definitely about time they moved to more pleasant matters.
…
The next morning they left their borrowed room at the Hall of Attainment, ready to put the whole ordeal at the College behind them for good and to leave for Markarth.
But before they could truly leave things behind, Aeyrin still wanted to try and talk to Darren. Maybe she was just selfishly trying to clear her own conscience again, but… she was getting rather sick of pondering about the complexities of the moral dilemmas that the world was throwing into their path more and more often. This felt like something that she should do. And that would have to be enough of a reason to try.
Unfortunately, the only one present in the hall was Brelyna that morning. Everyone else must have still been asleep after the celebrations, but she was just sitting there silently in the dining alcove by an empty plate on the table, staring into nothing.
Well… they did need to eat there. Even though Brelyna didn't look like she wanted company. Maybe talking to someone would make her feel better in the end though.
"Brelyna?" Aeyrin riled her up from her vacant stare carefully.
"Oh. It's you." Brelyna didn't even spare them a glance. She probably just recognized Aeyrin's voice or she could see them out of the corner of her eye, but she was still staring into the stone wall mindlessly. "The heroes of the day." The sneering tone in her voice was quite piercing.
Bishop and Aeyrin shared an uncomfortable look, but there was not much to say to make Brelyna feel better. Everyone was so busy celebrating and she was just left alone, feeling like this.
"Can we?" Aeyrin asked carefully again after a long moment of silence and she gestured towards the table.
"I don't care." The Dunmer didn't even shrug her shoulders or move in any way. She just kept staring off into the wall.
Aeyrin sat by the table, some distance away from Brelyna to give her space, while Bishop headed over to the food to grab them something. It would be probably better if he made himself scarce at least a little and let Aeyrin handle Brelyna. He had no idea how to deal with this kind of shit. She was always good at being comforting though. At least it felt like that to him.
"Brelyna, I… I just wanted to say how…" She tried. But she wasn't sure how to comfort her properly, but she still felt like she should. But she didn't get the chance.
"Don't. Just stop," Brelyna's face got decorated by a deep scowl and her eyes turned down to her plate. Only now, Aeyrin noticed that the plate wasn't even dirty from food yet. She was just sitting there for Gods-knew-how-long, doing absolutely nothing but staring into a wall. She didn't even eat. "Don't bother pretending like you care. Nobody does. You all have your victory. Even Master Neloren doesn't care about J'zargo, and the two of them were supposed to be… never mind. Nobody cares. Don't pretend like you do. People who knew him don't care. And you didn't even know him."
Aeyrin didn't really know how to answer that. Brelyna wasn't wrong… not about 'not caring', but… they really did not know J'zargo enough for the gesture to be sincere.
Bishop came back to the table silently and he placed two full plates upon it. It seemed weird to just ignore Brelyna and start eating while she was still sitting there with a blank expression on her face but, only a few seconds later, the apprentice rose from her seat and she turned on her heel with the food completely forgotten. She didn't look like she would be able to stomach it anyway.
"Have you… have you seen Darren?" Aeyrin called out to her carefully before she could disappear. Maybe it was inappropriate to ask her, but there was nobody else awake in the entire hall, it seemed. They just wanted to leave the College already.
"He's gone," Brelyna scoffed before she finally turned around and faced them. Her bright-red eyes were strangely empty as she looked at them, but she seemed to be only waiting for the predictable question to follow.
"'Gone'? What do you mean?" Aeyrin's eyes went wide at her. Hopefully it wasn't some aftermath from the Eye's magic in Darren. Who knew what would happen to him when the artifacts were far away from here? If anything at all.
"Gone. A few hours ago he packed his shit, woke up the hungover Tolfdir and un-enrolled from the College. Then he left. For good. I don't know where he went and I don't care. If you ask me, he's the only one who has any sense left in his head after all this." Brelyna's eyes narrowed briefly before she turned on her heel again and started walking out of the dining room. They stared after her in surprise, and the only thing that interrupted the silence was a very quiet murmur that escaped her lips before she was really gone.
"This fucking place is poison."