Chapter LX – A Warm Welcome

Their first stop, after the city was finally open to the both of them, was the notice board by the inn.

Warnings about the Butcher's inevitable return were plastered all over the place, along with crude drawings of the supposed next victim of the vicious murderer. The last thing they knew about the city was what Bishop had gathered during his last visit. The murders have stopped completely, kind of reinforcing the rumors about Aeyrin being the Butcher, nonsensical as that was. But the orders didn't stop. There were the random house searches and arrests, and now there seemed to be a new one among the scores of warning messages and crude pictures.

.

By the order of the True High King Ulfric Stormcloak,

due to the many instances of unrest and violent protesting from inhabitants of the Grey Quarter, precautionary measures are taking effect immediately. Any person of elven descent seen antagonizing or in any way provoking or assaulting a citizen of Nordic descent will be arrested immediately and punished accordingly. The city of Windhelm will not tolerate insubordination from its citizens in times of crisis. Sentences for crimes against Nord citizens have increased in severity due to the ongoing issues plaguing our proud city.

We thank the people of Windhelm for understanding and urge every citizen to stay safe.

Jorlief, Steward to the True High King Ulfric Stormcloak

.

It was as concerning as ever. Every time either of them visited the city, a new order had appeared, regardless of the state of the actual murders. It begged the question whether the killer hadn't already been caught and now Ulfric kept things quiet, just so that he could harass the elves longer. The order didn't even mention Imperials or Redguards at all. It was clear what Ulfric's goal was – ridding the city of the elves. How long before they got fed up and left their homes? They probably would have done so already, if they had enough money for a journey.

But that would mean that Ulfric had won.

It was hard to say which option was worse. Windhelm's suffocating tense atmosphere seemed to be worse with every one of their visits. Then again, this time, it may have had something to do with Aeyrin's 'negotiations' with Ulfric.

The few people that were walking outside were all looking at the two of them constantly. It was the same thing as always in Windhelm – disdain, uncertainty, curiosity. But this time, there was also palpable fear in some of them. Namely some of the Stormcloak guards. It was oddly empowering. And a little worrisome. There was no telling how all this might eventually escalate, but at least for now, they were free to roam the city without anyone giving them trouble. Well… within limits. There were still the orders prohibiting Aeyrin from moving around at night and… generally doing anything suspicious.

The two of them spent the rest of the day browsing the nearly empty markets and gathering supplies for the road. They had to do all of that before it was sundown and they had to head inside because of the curfew.

They spent the night at the Candlehearth Hall, suffering through more curious looks and barely subdued whispers from all the patrons, before they retired to their room with a clear plan for the next day. After lazing around the inn for the first part of it, of course.

They were both already eager to spend the afternoon and the subsequent night at the cornerclub. To see how the elves were doing under Ulfric's restrictions and possibly to forget all their current problems under the influence of Dunmer spirits.

…

"Hey, everyone! Look who it is!"

Revyn's voice carried through the cornerclub the second that the door shut behind the two of them.

There were significantly fewer Dunmer inside than usual, but those that remained, turned their attention towards Bishop and Aeyrin instantly. There was a very brief moment of silence, before suddenly, every patron in the club erupted into loud, excited cheers.

Aeyrin and Bishop exchanged a surprised look for a brief while. It was nice to receive a warm welcome from the elves after their long absence at the cornerclub, but this was much more enthusiastic than they had anticipated. The elves all rose from their seats and began gathering around them quickly with merriment and cheer.

"Our hero!" Idesa exclaimed. There was a degree of levity to her words, but the sentiment wasn't ironic.

Aeyrin couldn't help but wonder about this exaggerated welcome. Was this because of what had happened at the Palace yesterday? Was it because she had stood up to Ulfric at last? The word must have spread even here in the Grey Quarter.

It was… too much. She was hardly a 'hero' because of that. Although it must have been something unimaginable to the elves – talking to Ulfric like that, threatening him. It had been unimaginable for her too, before it just… happened. Such adoration was unnecessary. But… it was flattering. She couldn't help but blush bashfully at the attention. Most people in Windhelm were throwing her looks warier than ever. This was certainly a nice change in tune, getting some gratitude and recognition for the stressful ordeal that she had gone through.

Aeyrin almost said something. She almost started to get flustered from all the cheering and gratitude. Before she finally noticed something.

They weren't fawning over her.

All of their attention was turned towards Bishop. The elves were patting him on the back and thanking him endlessly for something. But he looked just as surprised at this development as Aeyrin was. And highly uncomfortable with the attention.

"What's going on?" Aeyrin had to raise her voice a little to be heard over the small crowd. She couldn't hide the slight hint of dejection from the tone though. This was unexpected. Just yesterday she faced a tyrant that had been terrorizing these people for ages. What was this about? Did the rumors get twisted and changed again as they traveled through Windhelm? Did everyone think that Bishop had stood up to Ulfric instead?

"I have no fucking idea." Bishop still looked completely caught off guard, but he was riled from his shock at least a little bit when the drunken Malthyr suddenly threw his arms around him in a fierce hug. "Get off!" Bishop shoved him aside, making the elf collide with the others, but none of this seemed to dampen their cheer.

"What do you mean, 'you have no idea'?" Revyn scoffed at him. "Free-Winter told us what you did."

At Revyn's words, realization dawned on Bishop at last. He noticed that Ambarys was approaching him already with a surprisingly wistful expression on his face. This was about the last time he was in Windhelm. This was about him paying for Ambarys's release from prison. Bishop spent a large portion of his reward for Thorn's head on that shit.

Couldn't Free-Winter just keep that shit to himself? The elves didn't need to know this. Bishop still felt kind of weird about all this. He had never done anything like this in his life – to go out of his way so much for someone he didn't even know very well. And especially after they've gotten themselves into a mess because of nothing but their own stupidity. He liked Ambarys, but… not to this extent. He still had no idea what came over him back then.

Ambarys finally made his way through the small crowd and he clasped Bishop's hand in a firm shake.

"Thank you, f'lah," he gave Bishop a respectful smile.

Bishop only groaned in response. This was weirdly uncomfortable. It was way less uncomfortable when someone fawned over him and Aeyrin after they'd helped kill a dragon or after ridding people of some bandits – the attention was always mostly on Aeyrin anyway. But now he understood why she often got so flustered under the adoration. He didn't know what to do with himself.

"What did you do?" Aeyrin's words riled him from the uncomfortable moment. Her eyes were wide in shock and bafflement. He couldn't really blame her though. It must have been a weird sight to see him receiving such accolades.

"Nothing! It's stupid…" Bishop grumbled, but he was promptly interrupted by the drunken Malthyr.

"He sssaved us! Our spirits!"

Idiot.

"'Spirits'?" Aeyrin gaped at Bishop with palpable shock on her face.

"He means booze," Bishop quickly clarified. He better nip that in the bud before she starts to think that he had done something actually noble. When she inevitably found out just why Ambarys got arrested, she was surely not gonna see it that way.

"It wasn't 'nothing'!" Revyn piped up. "He got Ambarys out of prison."

It took a while for Aeyrin to process those words. Her expression alternated between confusion and surprise, until it landed on something close to horror.

"You broke into a prison?!" she gaped at Bishop incredulously. He could practically see the horrific scenarios she was already imagining about what would happen if anyone found out about this.

"No!" he quickly set things straight, but he didn't get a chance to say anything more before the Dunmer began clamoring again to take the conversation into their own hands.

"Ambarys was arrested after the house searches started," Idesa explained somberly.

"They had some made up claims or some shit," Revyn continued. "Fucking snowberries always find a reason. Free-Winter was bailing us out, but he couldn't bail out Amba. No bail, they said, so we rose up."

"'Rose up'?" Aeyrin asked with palpable concern in her voice.

"Don't… don't ask, hla-aka," Idesa sighed. "It didn't go well for us."

"F'kin' snerberries!" Malthyr was already so drunk that he could barely get the words out. He tried to envelop Bishop in another hug, or maybe he was trying to lean on someone, but he was promptly shoved away again.

"Shit was bad," Revyn nodded. "Anyone caught in the conflict… we don't even know if they're alive," he shook his head somberly before he spoke again. "Free-Winter kept bailing out the petty crimes, helping us out, but he said he couldn't spare the money for bribes to get Amba out."

"So, when Amba suddenly appeared back here," Idesa snorted before she threw an uncharacteristically gentle look Bishop's way. "We all went to see Free-Winter, to see if he changed his mind. Turns out he didn't."

"You paid for him?" Aeyrin looked at Bishop instantly, shocked.

"Free-Winter said it was over two thousand drakes," Idesa lowered her voice, as if she was telling a secret, but everyone in the room could hear her anyway. Everyone in the room already knew this information anyway. Everyone except for Aeyrin.

Her eyes went even wider at Bishop. That was unexpected. It explained how he managed to actually become broke even with the amount that they had received for Thorn's bounty. But why did Bishop do this? He actually paid over two thousand septims for Ambarys. That was… shockingly charitable. And… very endearing. She couldn't help it. Her surprised expression quickly turned into an affectionate look.

"Stop looking at me like that," Bishop growled at her instantly. "It's your fault. You're such a fucking bad influence." Aeyrin's expression didn't change while she giggled at his words. Fuck, he really didn't know what to do with himself. It felt so weird to think about this now in retrospect. He wasn't sure why he had helped Ambarys. But he was kinda glad that he did. Still… that idiot innkeeper should really not get used to that. Stupid shit like that shouldn't get rewarded.

"And you!" Bishop turned to Ambarys, trying his best to ignore the doting look that Aeyrin was still giving him. "What the fuck were you thinking?! You hear about house searches, Stormcloaks looking for illegal shit, and you don't think to get rid of yours?! Idiot."

Ambarys snorted at him in response. His words were defensive, but his face was still decorated by a wide grateful smile. "Acceptable risks. I didn't know they would make up the whole 'no bail' shit, f'lah."

"New insult. Great," Bishop rolled his eyes at Ambarys. The man used to call him 'n'wah' and Bishop knew that it was an insult of some kind. He didn't understand this new word either, but he suspected that it was in the same spirit.

"Not just an insult. The insult," Idesa chuckled at Bishop.

He only gave her a confused look in return. What the fuck did that mean?

His confusion was only brief though. Soon enough, he got his answer from Revyn: "'F'lah', friend. Reserved for kin."

Bishop groaned in annoyance, but he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up. This was stupid. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy. So stupid. Ambarys was fucking stupid. They all were. Why did their affection and acceptance feel so good?

"Grab a seat you two," Ambarys nodded at them with a wide smile. "I bottle of my vintage flin for the honorary Dunmer."

With a few more pats on Bishop's back, the crowd had finally dispersed back to their seats. When Bishop finally dared to look back on Aeyrin, she was still wearing that adoring look on her face. He couldn't really complain about her looking at him like that but… it still felt really weird that it was because of all this shit.

Aeyrin stepped on her tiptoes to plant a brief kiss on his cheek. "That was so sweet of you," she chuckled at him. It only earned her a disgruntled groan in response. As much as he groaned and complained though, she could plainly see how touched he got when the elves called him 'kin'.

After he rolled his eyes at Aeyrin dramatically again, Bishop draped his arm over her waist and ushered her towards one of the seats. But before they could reach it, Aeyrin did not forget to call out to Ambarys with a question that Bishop kind of hoped would just get forgotten in the commotion.

"What did they arrest you for anyway, Ambarys?"

Fuck.

He was pretty sure that this was it for the looks of adoration.

…

Bishop was wrong.

Aeyrin seemed no less impressed and touched by his actions regarding Ambarys's arrest after the Dunmer had admitted what the reasons for it were. She did give Ambarys a long lecture on how callous and insensitive it was to partake in the skooma trade, even a little. And she continued throwing him angry glares throughout the evening.

Well, for some time at least. Until the alcohol made quick work of any lingering resentments.

Aeyrin was a little relieved when Bishop refused to drink any more sujamma, but it turned out that that 'flin' that Ambarys had offered was even stronger. She shared the bottle with him for a while, but she realized soon that if she kept that up, the evening would be painfully short for her.

Luckily there was no shortage of options at the cornerclub.

Soon after the elves stopped fawning over Bishop, they turned to Aeyrin with countless questions about the rumors of her confrontation with Ulfric. They even called it a 'Shouting match', even though anything like that could hardly be considered such. The rumors that the elves had gathered about that exchange were much more impressive than the truth, but they seemed enthralled with Aeyrin's recounting nonetheless. Standing up to Ulfric to any measure was admirable for them after all.

As humble as she tried to be about it, she couldn't really hide the pride in her voice when she was telling the story. It was quite a feat for her too. It felt nice to be admired for it. She just hoped that Ulfric's bitterness over it wouldn't come back to bite her eventually.

Regardless of those worries, the evening continued in the usual merry mood with the spirits flowing.

At times, it felt just like their last night there. Even though Susanna was now dead and several of the regular Dunmer patrons were imprisoned, the elves seemed just as eager to continue in their revelry as ever. The whole evening felt wistfully reminiscent of their times at the cornerclub before.

After a few hours, even an unexpected familiar face showed up at the tavern. Calixto. Bishop and Aeyrin were a bit surprised to see that man there again, but the elves told them that he had become quite the regular patron. Apparently he enjoyed walking around the city at night, despite the supposed danger, and he always stopped by New Gnisis for a few drinks. He always entertained the elves with stories from his adventures.

It was already past midnight and the merriment had barely reached its full swing. Bishop had been pacing himself, surprisingly enough – he was a little drunk from the strong flin, but he was working through it more slowly than he usually would. He likely didn't want a repeat of the last time and the hangover that followed.

Not that he was exactly sober - nobody at the cornerclub was at that point in the night. He was getting particularly handsy, as usual, and he dragged Aeyrin to settle her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly.

Aeyrin only giggled at that. Her face was already burning with inebriation, and it only intensified by their closeness. She nestled herself into his embrace tightly and rested her head against his shoulder with her eyes closed. She felt like she was spinning a little, but the constant of the warm body under her seemed steadying.

Bishop's eyes roamed over the room lazily. The Dunmer had borrowed Aeyrin's lute again and were now dancing and singing merrily. One would think that they would buy their own lute for the bar by now, but maybe they just liked it on special occasions. After all, if they weren't all drunk, that singing would have been far from pleasant.

He looked back towards his tankard on the table again when his attention got captured by Revyn instead. He had been sharing their table for a while now, but only now Bishop noticed that the man was peering at Aeyrin with his eyes narrowed in deep concentration and his gaze directed straight into her cleavage.

Seriously?

Bishop snapped his fingers at him a few times in quick succession to get his attention. "Hey!" he growled at the Dunmer, tearing his attention away from the intense stares. That caught Aeyrin's notice too and she raised her head from Bishop's shoulder to look at Revyn.

"What?" the Dunmer peered at Bishop in confusion before he realized himself. "Oh!" he started to laugh merrily, without saying anything else for quite a while, before he decided to explain himself. "I wasn't staring at her tits. I was looking at the shirt."

Riight…

"Uh-huh," Bishop chuckled in response. He could already see Aeyrin's cheeks darkening even more when she realized what they were talking about. Revyn could have at least thought of a better excuse.

"I'm serious," Revyn raised his palms defensively. "I was looking at that shiny thing," he shrugged as he pointed to the small gem sawn into Aeyrin's shirt, just below her cleavage. "Is that a real ruby?"

Aeyrin bit her lower lip at that. Not only was it a real ruby, there were golden threads in that shirt and likely a very expensive fabric. The price of that garment reflected that, but as excited as she had been when she bought it, now it felt really silly. And kind of awkward. She had always told herself that she couldn't really spare her coin to help out these elves by giving them some money – she needed her own for her expensive equipment and travelling supplies, but… she really didn't need to splurge on fancy clothing.

"What are you lot talking about?" Idesa's voice suddenly interrupted them as she was making her way towards their table. "Something about a 'ruby'?"

Oh no…

Aeyrin didn't think it was possible for her face to burn any more than it already did when Revyn pointed towards her chest. Idesa instantly narrowed her eyes in concentration and studied the gem too.

"What's that? Let me see!" Another voice joined in the conversation, Aval, one of the Dunmer merchants approached eagerly to see what the commotion was about before other patrons around started to catch up. Aeyrin didn't even answer the question yet and they already seemed to have made up their minds about the answer.

"Damn, where did you get that?" Idesa gasped. Aeyrin was still dreading this topic. Would they become bitter, seeing that she had the funds to spend on frivolous things without actually helping where it was needed, even to the people that have been nothing but kind and welcoming to her?

"Rubies, thousands of drakes worth of bribes… fuck," Revyn smirked. "Maybe I should have become an adventurer."

"Or a Dragonborn," Aval scoffed at him.

She wasn't sure how to answer them at all. It all seemed so awkward all of the sudden, but that may have just been her anxiety getting the better of her. But fortunately, before she could stammer out a weak excuse that she had been pondering for the entire time, Bishop interrupted the spectacle determinedly.

He moved his arms over her chest to wrap her in a tight embrace, hiding her cleavage, along with the ruby from the crowd. "Stop staring at her tits and go back to drinking already," he growled at them.

The crowd finally began to disperse, grumbling, without getting any answers to their questions, much to Aeyrin's relief. They all reluctantly moved back towards the bar to occupy themselves with the lute again and Bishop released her from his tight hold. But before the whole spectacle was over, Malthyr stumbled forward towards them with his tankard clutched in his hand firmly.

"H-hey! I didn'… didn't see!" he mumbled incoherently as he neared them, but at the last second, he lost his already unstable footing and stumbled.

The contents of his tankard flew forward instantly, straight at Aeyrin. And before she could realize what had happened, her entire shirt and the lap of her trousers were soaked in liquor with a strong odor. It smelled like that vile Mazte thing that they had tried before. It made her sick just remembering that taste.

If it was anyone but Malthyr, who was barely aware of what had been happening around him, she would have worried that it was done on purpose.

"Oh damn! Save the ruby!" Aval chuckled at her while she jumped up from Bishop's lap.

Most of the Dunmer just chuckled – it wasn't unusual to have the spirits spilled all over the room, including on all the patrons, with how wild the nights there could get. She really didn't want to reinforce their idea of theirs that she was somehow rich and prissy, but the smell was making her remember that awful drink constantly. It was making her sick.

She quickly approached the bar, trying hard not to look at their smirking faces. Hopefully Ambarys actually had a bath here somewhere – he needed to wash himself too after all and he lived here. She needed to get rid of that smell. How could Malthyr drink that swill? Even Bishop turned his nose up at that drink when they offered it to him.

She was dreading asking a bit, now in front of everyone after all that, but luckily, Ambarys spared her that.

"Inside and down the stairs, hla-aka," he chuckled as he pointed towards the hallway leading to the upstairs sleeping area and to what she had assumed to have been merely a basement below.

When she rushed towards the doorway by the bar, she suddenly felt a hand on the small of her back and turned to see Bishop following with a smirk on his face. He was likely getting other ideas than washing her clothes…

"Hey, where are you off to, f'lah?!" Revyn called after him, but it was clear that he knew the answer. It only made Aeyrin more uncomfortable with having everyone so… invested, but then again… getting distracted wasn't the worst idea just then. And her own inebriation made the choice all too easy.

Bishop didn't bother to answer him and the second they disappeared into the small hallway, his hand slid from her lower back to her buttocks with an eager squeeze. She couldn't help but giggle at the gesture. Strangely enough, the awkwardness stopped bothering her quickly. Now she had her mind only on one thing, just like him.

They made their way down into the basement, eager to find the entrance to the bathing room, but when they finally descended the steps, despite Bishop's constant insistent distractions and groping, they were met with a disappointing sight.

There was no bathing room. There was, in fact, no room at all. It was just a rather small open basement with one tub in the corner.

There wasn't really much privacy to find here. Although the cheers and sounds of the common room weren't really audible here that much, anyone could come here at any second. And since everyone upstairs already suspected why they both came here, Aeyrin wouldn't put it past someone like Malthyr to sneak to the stairs and try to take a peek.

"Uhmm…" Aeyrin let out a disappointed sigh. Bishop was still eagerly pawing at her backside and pressing her into his embrace, but from his expression, she could already see that he fortunately didn't expect her to go through with this.

"Fucking shitty inn," he grumbled morosely.

Aeyrin only shrugged at him as she disentangled herself from his embrace. The situation being what it was, she would be much more comfortable with him staying upstairs anyway. At least that way he could make sure that no drunkard tried to sneak into the back areas while she was bathing the stink off.

She readied herself to undress, but Bishop still just stood there. He didn't look like he was intending to leave now. She thought that he understood.

"Bishop… not here," she cringed as she gestured towards the uncomfortably open room.

"I know," he frowned defensively. "Doesn't mean I have to go right now though, does it?" he smirked at her pointedly and looked at her with an expectant stare.

Aeyrin rolled her eyes at him, but, after throwing one more tentative look towards the stairs, she finally began to undress the smelly clothes. She draped her shirt over her head quickly, eager to get rid of it. Bishop looked like he had to put some real effort into not touching her just then as he still stood right in front of her, watching her undress. And she didn't wait much longer before she bent down to undo the laces of her shoes.

The closer she got to removing her boots, the slower her movements got. While she didn't exactly see Bishop in her bent down position, she could feel his stare burning into her. It was so exciting. She couldn't have been more disappointed about the unfortunate bathing situation.

Maybe she was drunker than she had thought to be this affected by something they did pretty mundanely.

When she was finally done with yanking off her boots, she turned around, facing the wall, and she hooked her hands behind the hems of her trousers. They were still soaked at the top and the cool sensation made her shiver. She continued to remove them slowly, tentatively, all to make the moment last a little longer.

When she lowered her trousers to her knees, she bent down again to remove them completely, eliciting a frustrated groan from Bishop. She had to smirk to herself as she continued, before she straightened up again and flipped her hair onto her back.

She could feel Bishop's fingers raking through her hair only a second later. It seemed like he couldn't take not touching her any longer, if even a little. She let him stroke her hair for a little while, but soon, she moved her hands to her undergarments. Once she got rid of those, Bishop would surely not only content himself with touching her hair.

Confirming her suspicions, the moment she bent down to remove her undergarments fully, she felt Bishop's hands grab her bare buttcheeks in a firm grip. She barely managed to straighten up before he spun her around and promptly pressed himself against her, forcing her to step back and pin her against the wall.

The cold stone walls chilled her pleasantly – a contrast to her heated body. She knew that they shouldn't prolong the exchange, but it was too hard to tear herself away. Bishop pressed his body against hers, letting the roughness of his clothes scratch against her bare skin, while his lips descended on hers eagerly. He kept pressing her back more and more against the wall as his hands yanked her by her backside against his hips continually. The constant rubbing and heated kisses were making her lightheaded. She really shouldn't get so riled up. She still couldn't stop thinking about the uncomfortable openness of the place and the potential of onlookers.

"Bishop," she tried to sound a bit chastising, but instead his name left her lips with a lustful groan. It was no wonder when he moved his mouth down towards her neck and licked over her skin there. Even if she wasn't as tempted as she was, his handsiness whenever he was a bit drunk was not easy to get away from.

She let out another reluctant groan when one of his hands moved to squeeze her breast. They really needed to stop.

At last she grabbed his wrists firmly with her hands and finally moved them away from her body.

"Hmmm… fine," Bishop murmured morosely. "But tomorrow we're going straight back to Candlehearth for some privacy," he smirked and his hand moved to squeeze her asscheek one last time before he turned on his heel and headed towards the stairs.

Good. This was for the best… she had to remind herself of it through her frustration.