Author's Note:

For those of you interested in side stories for the main fic, I have recently published the first chapter of one such one-shot tale in the Second Book Extras :)

But other than that, enjoy this chapter :3 Thank you for reading.

Chapter LXI – Feats of Strength

Bishop could already hear some yelling from the common room when he ascended the steps from the basement again.

It wasn't the usual ruckus of cheer and revelry though, there was someone shouting while the rest of the patrons seemed uncharacteristically quiet.

"C'mon! Yer just gonna… gonna sit there? On yer stupid asses?!" the male voice, clearly drunk, yelled. It was not a voice that Bishop recognized and it lacked the telltale raspiness of Dunmer voices.

Before he could reach the common room again, however, Revyn stumbled through the archway with a decidedly morose expression on his face. When the elf noticed Bishop coming back though, his frown got replaced by a smirk instantly.

"That was quick," Revyn chuckled teasingly.

"Shut up," Bishop rolled his eyes. It would have really been too quick had he actually done anything with Aeyrin down there. But now he was more intrigued by the yelling and Revyn's sour mood. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. It's just Rolf…" the Dunmer sighed exaggeratedly.

"'Rolf'?" Bishop raised his brow at the elf. That name did not ring a bell at all.

With another sigh, Revyn moved towards the archway leading into the common room, ushering Bishop along to see the spectacle.

There was a Nord man there, yelling at the Dunmer. Bishop recognized him after a while. It was that dimwit who had once assaulted Aeyrin at the Candlehearth before Susanna interfered. The elves were all sitting silently by their tables, looking into the ground morosely while he continued with his fit. Nobody was reacting to him at all and nobody said anything, but the man still yelled at them with persistence.

"You f'ckin' greyskins! Yer not so tough now, are you?! Pussies! You don' belong here!"

"He comes here almost every night," Revyn's now whispered words rang in Bishop's ear. "Taunting us, trying to provoke us. He wants one of us to fight him, or at least punch him."

"He wants you to punch him?" Bishop raised his brow at Revyn. Why the fuck would that idiot want that?

"Yeah," the Dunmer scoffed in response.

"So? Punch him," Bishop chuckled. What was the big deal? That idiot wanted a punch, he could get one. Surely even if he was stronger than any of the present Dunmer, all of them together could make quick work of him.

"And get arrested, right?" Revyn growled at him instantly.

"What? It's just a tavern brawl." It happened all the time. Nobody punished anyone for some brawls. Unless someone got stabbed or some shit, it was just good old settling scores.

"For you, yeah," Revyn scowled. "Didn't you read the new order? We can't attack the Nords, probably not even in self-defense. That asshole tries to time these outbursts around the patrols that come to check on us here at night. He wants one of us to get caught red-handed, fighting him. And even if we didn't get caught, if he reported it, nobody would be on our side. He would likely not even need proof. Elves can't do shit here anymore, not even defend themselves against these assholes."

Damn, Bishop had almost forgotten about that stupid order. So this ice-brain was just going around, trying to goad the Dunmer to attack him so that he could come crying to Ulfric with his black-eye that a vicious elf assaulted him? That was so fucking pathetic. And no elf could teach him a lesson.

No elf.

"How about honorary elves?" Bishop smirked slyly at Revyn. Just listening to that asshole got him itching for a fight. It was not like that would be breaking one of Ulfric's precious orders. That Nord could still make shit up, supposedly, but Bishop would make sure to beat that idea out of him quickly. Besides, there would be witnesses. If not the elves, Calixto was still there. Why didn't he do something? Well… maybe he was not much of a fighter. But that ice-brain was drunk out of his ass. He would hardly be a challenge.

"Are you for real, f'lah?" Revyn's eyes twinkled with intrigue.

Why not? It sounded like a fun development to the evening. Bishop only smiled at him in response before he stepped into the common room towards the commotion.

"Hey!" he called out to get the drunk's attention.

Everyone in the room, including Rolf, turned towards him instantly. The fire in the Nord's eyes didn't extinguish even for a second as he narrowed his gaze at Bishop. He looked even angrier now.

"Well look… look who it is! The f'kin' elf-fucker!" the Nord growled spitefully.

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Bishop laughed at him. "Because it really isn't." As if that would even effectively insult him. That fucking drunk wished that a pretty elf would even spare him a glance, let alone someone like Aeyrin.

"F'kin' disgrace!" Rolf yelled with his fists clenched tightly. "No real Nord would f'kin' touch one of… one of these filthy… skeevers!"

"He's not a Nord!" Malthyr suddenly piped up, swaying heavily on his chair. "He's a Dunmer!"

Bishop grinned at the proclamation and it was even better to see just how much that statement confused that idiotic Rolf. He looked completely lost.

Bishop didn't wait any longer before he stepped towards the drunkard and grabbed him by the hems of his shirt. Rolf let out a surprised gasp, he didn't manage to gather himself enough to even notice Bishop approach, but the fierce hatred in his eyes still remained.

"You better fucking stay away from this place from now on," Bishop growled. "Or, after I beat your sorry ass to a pulp, I'm gonna tell all your 'true Nord' friends how you got your face fixed by an 'elf-fucker' before you ran away with your tail between your legs."

Rolf did not seem intimidated in the slightest, but that would change soon enough.

The drunk twisted in Bishop's grip and managed to get away from him. But his intentions were predictable. He instantly heaved and readied himself to punch Bishop, swinging his fist against his face, but Bishop's reflexes were hardly dulled yet. He ducked, avoiding the blow completely, and he didn't hesitate for a second before his own fist connected with Rolf's face. Hard.

Loud cheers echoed through the common room as Rolf's blood splattered on Bishop's face. Drunken strength meant nothing when the man was too slow to react. Bishop was instantly on him. He lunged at him, grabbing him around the waist and sending the both of them tumbling onto the floor.

It was almost pathetically easy. That man did not expect to have an actual fight on his hands, and he was way too plastered to be able to defend himself. Bishop straddled his chest swiftly and punched his face again, and again, still accompanied by loud cheers.

This was so fucking satisfying.

"Yeah! Give him what for, f'lah!"

"Turn his face into a mush!"

The elves yelled at him in excitement.

For a moment, Bishop turned his head towards the room, but as soon as he did, a fist landed in his face.

A sharp pain and heat spread across his face. He did not expect the drunk to be able to react that quickly. He could taste copper on his lips.

He instantly turned his attention back to the Nord and punched him in the face again. And a few more times for good measure. Rolf already looked dazed and his face was covered in blood. He looked like he had enough at last, hopefully.

When Bishop was sure that the asshole wouldn't retaliate, he moved himself off him.

Rolf tried to get up, but he had trouble doing so. He hardly had any strength left.

Bishop bent down and grabbed him by his shirt again. He yanked the man off the floor and he swiftly pushed him forward, right towards the door.

Idesa rushed forward to open the door before Bishop shoved the drunk outside into the streets. Rolf stumbled, almost falling off the small platform above the stairs where the cornerclub was, but he managed to keep his balance in the end.

"Don't ever come back, fucking snowberry!" Idesa yelled after the man.

Luckily, he looked utterly defeated. Bishop only hoped that he would not come back once he and Aeyrin were gone from Windhelm.

He and Idesa returned inside promptly and Bishop headed back to his table right away to get more drink in him. The Dunmer were all still cheering for him, patting him on his back and gushing over the events. Why did their accolades feel so damn good to him?

He sat down in his chair and took a deep swig from his tankard. Idesa was by his side in a minute with a wet rag in her hands and she gently started to dab it over his skin above his lip. His nose was likely bleeding.

But it was definitely worth it.

…

Aeyrin stepped into the common room with her hair still wet and her clothes pleasantly dry and warm from the fire in contrast.

The room was as lively as before she had left for her bath, but an unusual sight caught her interested in an instant. Idesa was crouching by Bishop's chair with a rag in her hand. She noticed a smidge of red on the cloth. It looked like she was cleaning blood from him.

"Gods, what happened?" Aeyrin rushed towards them with a worried look on her face. On proper glance though, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with Bishop and he only grinned at her in response.

"The f'lah defended our honor," Aval chuckled.

Aeyrin's eyes widened at him and she gave another questioning look to Bishop. But Idesa decided to clarify instead. "That idiot snowberry, Rolf, he comes here to taunt us and provoke us most nights. Guess tonight he hit a snag though," she chuckled merrily.

Aeyrin connected the dots instantly. She remembered that order – the one that prohibited elves from attacking Nords. Bishop had surely gotten it into his head to teach that troublemaker a lesson.

She worried a little that if that man talked, Ulfric might not take kindly to Bishop of all people fighting with one of his supporters, but… hopefully even he wouldn't make a big deal out of a tavern brawl. It was practically how Nords communicated anyway, right?

When Idesa cleared the way, Aeyrin stepped towards Bishop to examine his face. He looked fine though. His nose wasn't even broken.

"I'm good, sweetness," he grinned at her again. "Come here." He reached out towards her, draping his arm across her waist, and he pulled her towards him to settle her onto his lap again.

"A tavern brawl? Really?" Aeyrin chuckled at him lightly while she nestled herself into his arms. She gently placed her hand on his cheek and examined his face once more. "Did you get an uncontrollable urge to act all Nordic because they called you a Dunmer?"

Bishop let out a hearty laugh at the insinuation. That was quite the opposite of that. It was more like he got an uncontrollable urge to protect his new… kin? It was still kind of disturbing to think about just how much those idiots affected him with their gratitude and affections.

The evening continued on in good merriment as they all drank while the Dunmer recounted the fight to Aeyrin over and over again. They seemed to be even more impressed by this than they were by Bishop paying to get Ambarys out of prison or by Aeyrin confronting Ulfric. It turned out that this Rolf had been bothering them for quite some time now. Several elves had even taken his bait and got themselves arrested right after.

And the more the alcohol flowed, the more exaggerated the story got.

"Soo, I have a question," Idesa addressed Bishop and Aeyrin with a palpably inebriated voice. "I know, you're a tiny little elf," she smirked at Aeyrin, eliciting a frown from her. Where was this going? "But… you got that… Dragonborn thingy. So… which of you is stronger?" she pointed to the two of them respectively and wiggled her eyebrows with a chuckle.

"Damn, that's a good question," Revyn snickered as he approached their table again. He must have overheard them.

"What's a good question?" another patron called out to him immediately.

Oh Gods, this was going to turn into a whole thing! Aeyrin hid her face into Bishop's chest with a loud groan, but she did ponder about the question for a while. It was not as if they ever did anything to find out. They never fought, at least not physically, and pinning one another down in bed probably didn't count.

Revyn excitedly repeated the question to the entire crowd and they all stopped discussing whatever they had been discussing before to concentrate on the two of them, eager for an answer.

"How the fuck should we know? You think we brawl for fun?" Bishop laughed. "We do other stuff for fun." His wide grin earned him a firm punch to the chest, but the elves still didn't seem satisfied with the answer.

"Come on, you gotta at least have an idea," Revyn insisted.

Aeyrin finally repositioned herself to turn her head back towards the room as she continued to think about the answer. Dammit, now she was invested too.

"Well," she ruminated. "I think Bishop is. He has that whole… Nord thing going for him," she chuckled. She was pretty sure that if they were to arm-wrestle or something, he would have likely won. And she knew how strong he was, despite his focus on the more… subtle forms of combat.

Oh Gods, she could already see the smug smirk forming on his face. She needed to bring him down a notch.

"But he's definitely worse in close combat."

Bishop's smirk disappeared instantly, replaced by a surprised scowl. Good. He didn't need her to stroke his ego. He's had enough of that from the elves for the night.

The patrons all began to 'ooh' at them along with bouts of chuckles. Nobody was even talking anymore, they all just concentrated on their exchange.

"The fuck do you mean I'm worse in combat?" Bishop scowled again.

"Come on, you know," Aeyrin giggled at him. "You're too focused on precision with the sword."

"Precision's good. It kills people," Bishop scoffed defensively. "You just swing around like you have your eyes closed all the time."

"Exactly. What good is your precision when you get surrounded? You can't cover the area with your 'precision'. You don't take nearly enough enemies down with each swing and then you get overwhelmed," Aeyrin explained. It really couldn't have been news to him that he wasn't as good in melee as she was. He was probably the best shot she had ever seen and, compared to plenty of other people, he was really good in close combat too. Just… not compared to her.

Bishop was surprisingly quiet instead of instantly retorting with another defensive comment.

Ha! She was right. He had nothing to dispute that.

"Besides, when you swing, you leave your flanks open," she chuckled at him again, driving the point further.

"So do you," Bishop scoffed immediately.

"When I have an armor that can take it," she smirked. "And at least I know how to use a shield."

"Damn, those are fighting words, hla-aka," Revyn chuckled at her and the rest of the elves laughed merrily after that.

Surprisingly enough, Bishop didn't argue anymore. Instead, he pressed her even closer to his arms with a smirk and he murmured into her ear: "You watch me way too much, princess."

Well, he wasn't wrong about that, but he was certainly guilty of the same thing.

"I say there's only one way to settle this!" Revyn interrupted them again. "You two need to fight."

Bishop and Aeyrin both turned to him with surprise etched on their face, but the other elves definitely seemed excited about that suggestion.

"What? Fuck off, I'm not gonna hit her," Bishop scoffed at him quickly, before this idiocy got out of hand.

"You don't need to hit each other. Just wrestle or something. The one that pins the other down for… I don't know, a minute, wins," Revyn explained excitedly. He seemed to be actually serious about this.

Although...

Aeyrin and Bishop shared an uncertain look. Well, it wasn't anything drastic, neither of them would probably be able to actually brawl the other, fearing that they would hurt each other. But this sounded even kind of… fun.

Aeyrin jumped off Bishop's lap when she noticed the interest in his eyes. She could surely beat him. Pinning him down wouldn't be so hard, would it? She'd done it countless times before… although at those times, he never really fought back.

Bishop rose to his feet as well and stretched his back dramatically. It was like he tried to accentuate how much taller he was than her like that. As if that would help him. The bigger they are…

"Hold on!" Ambarys called out to them from behind the bar. Well, that was probably it. He was likely worried about the cornerclub getting trashed. But much to their surprise, instead, a wide grin spread across his face. "Bets are in. Come on, everyone, get out your purses."

Everyone started to gather around the bar instantly, eager to take part in the action. Now there was definitely no going back.

Aeyrin was a little anxious to see if nobody bet on her. They had all just seen Bishop take down that lummox after all, but fortunately, a lot of the patrons called out her name to Ambarys. The bets seemed to be pretty even, only Idesa didn't exclaim her choice. Instead, she leaned over the bar to whisper something to Ambarys with a wide grin on her face.

When the bets were taken care of, all the patrons walked behind the bar to give them some space while Bishop and Aeyrin situated themselves at the opposite sides of the room, facing each other.

Bishop was wearing that smug grin again and when they were all set, he called out to her with a taunting tone in his voice. "Now, sweetness, don't get too broken down over losing. After all, I have that 'Nord thing going for m-…'"

He didn't get to finish the sentence. Aeyrin hurled herself at him with speed, grappling him around the waist. They both tumbled into the nearby table and chairs, sending them clattering to the ground, but she did get on top of him.

Bishop didn't hesitate after that. He quickly wrapped his arms around her own waist and pushed his weight against her. She tried to hold off, but he really was stronger. After a while, he managed to overpower her and pressed her flat on her back onto the floor.

He adjusted his grip to pin her hands above her head. The loud cheers of encouragement from the elves seemed to get steadily drowned out as he concentrated on holding her there. She was looking up at him with ferocity in her eyes as she tried to move her hands to dislodge herself from him. Fuck, how he loved the sight of her pinned under him like that. It made him really regret that they didn't get to release some tension before in that basement.

Aeyrin noticed the distracted stare in his eyes. It was already so familiar. And it would be his undoing. She lodged her leg below his knee and swiped it with all her strength. Bishop was thrown out of balance instantly and she used the momentum to turn the tides and flip him onto his back again.

She straddled his waist as fast as she could, determined not to leave him an opening. They struggled on the ground for a while – Bishop tried to grab her around her waist to push her off himself, but she captured his wrists in her hands to keep them off her. It wasn't as effective as she had hoped, however. She only managed to move his hands down to the backs of her thighs, where he gripped her firmly.

She still held his wrists, trying to remove his hands and she began moving on top of him to escape his grasp. But that was probably a bad idea. She was grinding on top of him this way, and her mind got instantly filled with other thoughts than fighting in that position. She could already see the lust in his eyes. She wasn't the only one drunk just enough to let it affect her.

Bishop let out a low growl and tried to reposition his hands again, this time moving them higher, over her backside. He was still gripping her flesh firmly and the way she was writhing on top of him didn't really help the situation. He could barely hear the elves anymore. He was only concentrating on her.

He suddenly flipped her over again. Strange… she did not expect him to do that just then. Why didn't she? They were still fighting, weren't they? But when he laid himself on top of her fully, she understood that the fight was already over. His mouth descended on hers, as if he couldn't help himself anymore, and she met him eagerly in a passionate kiss. The earlier frustration in the basement didn't really do much to help either of them keep their composure.

She flipped him over again, and this time, he didn't even try to fight it. They were still locked in a deep kiss, their tongues playing with each other while Bishop's hands groped at her backside and hers pressed his biceps. They could only vaguely hear the disgruntled shouts behind them.

"Oh come on!"

"What the fuck? You're supposed to be fighting!"

Bishop flipped her on her back again, but soon enough, she did the same to him. Neither of them was fighting back anymore, but neither did they stay in one position for longer than a few seconds. The Dunmer were clearly displeased at the development.

It didn't take long, however, and they got interrupted. Not by one of the patrons, but by a loud slam of the entrance door.

"Hey! What in the Void is going on here?!" a booming voice echoed around the tavern. Everyone got suddenly quiet and Bishop and Aeyrin tore themselves from each other, staring at the intruders.

There were two Stormcloak guards standing in the door, staring at the scene with their mouths open in uncertain shock. Aeyrin was still on top of Bishop, pressing him into the ground while he had to dip his head back to see the men. They must have gotten drawn in by the cheering and the noise.

"S-sir… is that elf harming you?" one of the guards stammered nervously after a long while of uncomfortable silence.

"No?" Bishop gave him an exasperated look, as much as he could in his position. Did it fucking look like she was harming him? She may have had him pinned down on the floor, but the guards must have clearly seen what they had been doing.

"Ah… al-alright… ehm," the guard cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Carry on then… I suppose."

The guards stood there for a second longer before they both turned on their heels and rushed away from the cornerclub. Funny, they must have been so excited by the ruckus, thinking that they would find the elves doing something wrong, maybe fighting with that Rolf idiot. Revyn had mentioned that he usually tried to alert the guards to the fights.

When the men were gone, all the elves erupted in hearty laughter at what had just happened. Aeyrin disentangled herself from Bishop with a wry smile and a fierce blush on her cheeks, as if she had just realized what they had been doing rather publically.

Bishop collected himself off the ground right after her, but none of the elves moved from behind the bar yet.

"Wait… so who the fuck won?" Revyn scoffed.

"I won!" Idesa proclaimed proudly in an instant. All eyes turned on her in surprise. That wasn't exactly an answer that anyone was expecting.

"She's right," Ambarys smirked. "She bet on them ending up like… that. The rest of you, tough luck." His grin was wide. He probably earned a lot from those bets.

None of the elves however seemed to mind that much, instead they all laughed again while they moved back towards their tables with only Idesa staying behind to collect her money.

"Idesa!" Aeyrin called out to her incredulously with her cheeks still bright red. Did she really bet on that happening?

"What? You two have been eye-fucking each other all night. It was bound to end up like that," Idesa only giggled in response, making Aeyrin flush even deeper red.

Bishop only laughed along with her as he ushered Aeyrin back to his lap again. Although that may not have been the best idea with how worked up they had just gotten, she still felt like being close to him.

She wasn't even sure if she minded that they never got to find out the answer to that question.

This was a much more pleasant development, even if it was a bit embarrassing.

…

The evening still dragged on into the morning hours.

As always, the elves couldn't go outside yet and they didn't look like they were planning on sleeping at the cornerclub. Well… unless that included snoozing by their tables or on the ground when they've had enough.

Most of the patrons were already drunk enough to sway in their steps and slur their speech, but Bishop and Aeyrin were in a surprisingly better state than usual. The flin that Bishop was drinking was a bit stronger than sujamma, but this time, he had no stupid challenges to give himself. Not that he wasn't drunk, but at least he could still stand on his feet. Right now, he was indulging a few of the Dunmer in arm-wrestling contests. Or maybe he was indulging himself after they never got the answer to their fight. He probably needed to win over someone in a strength contest. He didn't seem to mind that all of his opponents were drunk out of their minds and hardly as trained as him.

Or maybe Aeyrin was giving him too little credit and he was just enjoying the elves' company. He did look really happy the whole evening. Especially after he riled himself up from the shock of being hailed as a hero and kin by the Dunmer.

Aeyrin didn't really feel like participating in any more competitions to prove her strength. She was much more interested in listening to Calixto who had begun regaling the rest of the room with another story from his adventures with his sister. She wondered why he had remained the whole night – he didn't even talk to anyone. He just sat in the room, watching and sipping on some cheap ale. But now it seemed like he was waiting for this moment to come – when the elves would tire of singing, brawling and revelry, and when they would be tired and calm enough to just sit and listen to his stories. He definitely seemed to be excited about recounting them – his travels when he was young, along with his sister, around several provinces, chasing after adventure. He sounded like he relived those moments so blissfully vividly when he spoke about them.

When Calixto finished his tale and the Dunmer began to scatter a bit to talk to each other again in smaller packs, Aeyrin turned her gaze back to the other side of the room where Revyn, Faryl and Aval continued to try to defeat Bishop in arm-wrestling. None of them seemed to mind the losses though – it all seemed to be in good fun. Although she could see the fierce concentration on Bishop's face whenever one of the elves managed to tilt his arm a little, trying to pin it down.

Maybe he had a point. She was watching him way too much.

"Did you enjoy the story?" a voice interrupted her from watching the scene and she turned her head to see Calixto approach her table.

She nodded at him with a smile and gestured for him to join her. That man hadn't spoken to anyone all night, but now he seemed in a much more sociable mood. Telling his tales definitely improved his demeanor.

Calixto joined her by the table and raised his tankard to clank it against hers in a brief amicable gesture.

"I hope you are not too in your spirits yet, Dragonborn. Or… hla-aka," he chuckled at her after he took a small sip of his ale. "I've been meaning to talk to you when there's a moment of quiet."

Talk to her? Odd. About what? Aeyrin threw him a questioning look.

"I just… I am glad that you are back," Calixto sighed. "As merry as this place can get, the city is… depressing. People barely even go outside anymore. And nothing changes."

That did sound depressing, but Aeyrin already knew how bad things in Windhelm were. Yet that didn't explain what it had to do with her. Maybe he was just glad for the celebrations in the cornerclub. Perhaps the mood wasn't this merry there every evening.

"I walk the streets every night, you know," Calixto continued to talk wistfully.

"Why? Aren't you worried?" Aeyrin shook her head at him. She knew that he was not bound by the curfew order, but surely he could have been a little wary of the Butcher. If he wanted to visit the cornerclub, couldn't he just come there before sundown like all the rest of the patrons?

"About the killer? Doesn't he only hunt young women?" Calixto smirked a little weakly. It was the same thing he had said before when he first appeared at the cornerclub. Susanna was still alive back then.

"I used to walk the streets every night before all this started. It was my favorite part of the day. Walking in the crisp air, watching the people scurry in the dark, stumbling from the taverns or trying to find their way home. Windhelm has a… different face at night. An intriguing one. An inviting one. But now, there is no one and nothing but the soldiers. I started to come here to get at least a bit of that feeling back."

Aeyrin nodded at him in understanding. It was a sweet wistful sentiment. She still believed that he was being stupidly reckless, but she understood the urge to desperately want to get one's old life back. It was too familiar.

"I know why you got banished," Calixto suddenly lowered his voice, as if he was telling her a secret.

Aeyrin looked at him with surprise. She was not so shocked that he knew. After all, she had no idea what rumors had been flying through the streets of Windhelm after her banishment. She was much more caught off guard by the very sudden shift of topic. Why did he mention that?

"I know that you… investigated the killer," he gave her a strangely fierce gaze. "I thought that he… or she disappeared. Nothing happened after you were gone, but… lately, I noticed something."

Aeyrin shifted in her seat a bit uncomfortably and she pushed herself closer to the table and towards Calixto. 'Noticed something?' What did he mean by that?

"I've seen… a figure. Several nights now during my walks. It was always gone quickly, but I could see it creep through the night. It could be an elf, trying to get around at night, but… there was something strange about those movements that I could catch. You already know that I am used to watching people and… so was that figure. It was plain to see."

"And you're telling me?" Aeyrin scowled at him. Yes, she may have attempted to investigate the Butcher, but she could do nothing in the night now. Especially after everything that had happened. And why would Calixto wait for the off-chance that she would ever return to the city?

"I have told the guards. I have even tried to guide them to where I had seen that person. But there was never any sign of them and the guards didn't believe me. I asked to speak to Ulfric about it, but they just laughed me off. I think…" Calixto leaned over the table as he lowered his voice again. "I think that they don't want the killer found."

Aeyrin cringed at his words. That was the exact thing that she had thought about before. The Stormcloaks had a perfect excuse to torment the elves and Argonians like this. And it played right into Ulfric's cards.

"But I want the city back," Calixto sighed once more. "And when I heard that you were back, I had to tell you. You wanted to have them caught. You are capable enough to actually catch them."

"I can't walk around the city at night," Aeyrin hissed quietly. Now she wanted to keep this conversation quiet too. If Bishop knew what they were talking about, she would never hear the end of it. "There's the order, and… I can't get involved, I… I don't know what Ulfric would do." She didn't even want to think about it. All that yelling, all that victory from yesterday would be for nothing, just because she broke the one promise that she had given that man.

But… catching Susanna's killer, giving the elves their freedom again… this was hard to resist.

"I know," Calixto nodded somberly. "I… I know. I don't know why I felt the need to tell you… I'm sorry. I know that you're in a difficult position."

"Well… I… I do want them caught," Aeyrin sighed. It wasn't as if they even knew who this figure was anyway. It could have been anybody. It could have been the Altmer trader, going to Guild meetings. It could have been a guard getting bored out of their skull and changing their route. It could have been just another citizen who liked to walk around at night.

"Did you try to follow? You were an adventurer…" she tried to get more information out of him. Besides, from the tales he had been spinning, he would be more than capable of taking care of a threat. In fact, why did he not take care of Rolf too? Was he just making those stories up?

They were briefly interrupted by loud cheers coming from the other side of the room. Aeyrin turned her eyes away from Calixto to see the commotion – Revyn had his arms thrown upwards with a victorious smirk on his face while Bishop looked both amused and baffled. The elf must have managed to beat him.

"That was in my youth," Calixto dragged her attention back to the conversation again. "I have so many injuries from those years, I cannot fight anymore."

"What was that person doing anyway? Why do you think that it was the killer?" Aeyrin asked again. She wasn't sure if she was hoping more for Calixto's hunches to turn out true or not.

"They were just standing there, watching the guards walk by. I saw them move from one shadowy corner to another quickly, only to begin watching again from there," the Imperial explained.

Alright, that was suspicious. But she still had no idea what she could do about it. She couldn't just walk around in hopes of seeing this person. Bishop could, but she would never ask him to. This killer was clearly too skilled and too dangerous, avoiding the law for so long. If anything happened to Bishop, she could never forgive herself for that.

Before she could question Calixto more, however, they got interrupted again. This time, by Bishop making his way back to the table.

"Never mind. I'm sorry, I know that you can't…" Calixto stammered before he rose from his seat with a defeated look in his eyes. "I just wanted to tell you."

Aeyrin nodded at him in understanding, but her mind was still preoccupied with what to do with this information. She did not get to concentrate on it fully any longer though.

"Undefeated!" Bishop proclaimed proudly with a smirk on his face when he reached her.

"Liar," she laughed. She saw him get defeated a few minutes ago.

"That didn't count! They ganged up on me! Distracted me!" Bishop grumbled morosely as a few more chuckles echoed from the other side of the room from Revyn and the others.

"See? I told you, you can't deal with more enemies at once," Aeyrin giggled at him a little meanly. "You always get overwhelmed."

"Pfft," Bishop waved his hand at her dismissively, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. It was pretty amusing. "Let's just get more drinks so I can forget that ever happened."

It wasn't a bad idea.

She wouldn't mind forgetting some things that she had just learned either.