Chapter CXLII – Allegiance

"Citizens! Halt!"

They barely even left the mountain passes. They barely even stepped on the road cutting through the endless forests. They walked for a while until an old fort came into view, crawling with soldiers in Imperial armors. As if the bright red banners weren't enough to let anyone know who was in control of this place.

This wasn't an unconventional sight at all. People often kept their distance from these forts, but some of them were by the road. The soldiers never really bothered travelers though.

But now, apparently, they chose to ignore that custom.

Just as Bishop and Aeyrin stepped near, three soldiers rushed out onto the road and stopped them, weapons in hand. It was quite unsettling. What would some Imperials want to stop them for?

They stopped, though begrudgingly. It was getting a bit late again and they were eager to get to the city at last. After their stay at Froki's cabin, they didn't waste their time coming back to Ivarstead. They still needed to send the letter to Commander Maro and they were eager for a good meal and a proper rest on a bigger bed. But now there was yet another delay.

"State your business in Falkreath Hold, travelers," one of the soldiers scowled at them menacingly. What was that about?

"The fuck's it to you?" Before Aeyrin could stop him from making this even more unpleasant, Bishop snarled back at the woman.

They had no fucking right to ask that! Not that the two of them were doing anything wrong, but still, it was none of their fucking business. He hated how haughty the Imperials got, swinging their weapons around, thinking they had everyone under their thumbs.

"Excuse me?" the woman barked back at him. What? Was he just supposed to be all pleasant after that 'warm welcome', being stopped on the road for questioning?

Aeyrin quickly stepped in front of Bishop. He wasn't sure whether it was to protect him from any hostilities or to protect the soldiers from his remarks, but she made a soothing gesture with her hands regardless.

"We're… we're just going to Falkreath." She wasn't sure what they wanted to hear. They weren't going there for anything specific, not really. She just didn't want this to escalate.

The woman threw one more hateful look at Bishop before she turned her attention to Aeyrin. "For what purpose?"

"Uhm… we're just… staying in town for a while. For supplies and… adventuring around," Aeyrin stammered uncertainly. She wasn't even sure what to say. The soldiers didn't look very thrilled with her answer. She wasn't even sure why they were being questioned. What was going on in Falkreath?

The soldiers whispered something to each other for a while, throwing wary glances at the two of them. It took a long time before one of them finally spoke out loud once more.

"State your allegiance," an Imperial man gave them a fierce scowl.

"What? What do you mean?" Aeyrin stared at him in surprise. Imperial soldiers had sometimes asked her subtly whether she was 'loyal to the Empire', in a way. She never liked that question. It was a very complicated one, given her opinions on certain Thalmor rules. But that was always during her talks with Tullius about the war and things like that. Never during a random ambush on the road. Were they just sussing out any Stormcloak supporters? It wasn't as if they weren't allowed in the Imperial regions, was it? There were plenty of them there, surely. And there were plenty of citizens in Stormcloak-controlled regions that were more inclined to support Imperial efforts. Like Maven Black-Briar. That was one such person she knew at least.

"Do you stand with the Empire or are you working for the wretched rebels?" The man was still scowling.

"What the f-…" Bishop piped up again, but Aeyrin quickly interrupted him. She really didn't want this to get out of hand.

"We're not working for anyone!" she shook her head vehemently. "We're adventurers. I told you." She had no idea what else they wanted to hear. She didn't want to outright tell them that they 'stood with the Empire'. She didn't want to say that to anyone. The next thing she knew, she would be aggressively recruited by the Legion in another one of Tullius's schemes.

"We're watching the area for Stormcloak spies. We have some… questions for you," the woman, who seemed to be in charge of this merry band of harassers, frowned at her again in suspicion.

"You think we're Stormcloak spies?" Bishop scoffed at her. Were they stopping every fucking merchant and traveler like this? And more importantly, why would anyone think that they were Stormcloak spies? "You think she's a Stormcloak?" she pointed to Aeyrin with another incredulous scoff. "Did you miss those ears or something?"

Aeyrin only fidgeted on the spot nervously as the soldiers studied her closely, as if they had just noticed that she was an elf. But of course they didn't. Bishop's outrage only seemed to make them more suspicious about her for some reason. As if she was chosen to be a spy solely for the fact that nobody would expect an elf. Maybe that was a valid concern though…

"Anyone could be a spy," the last soldier, who had been quiet until now, snarled at them. "You came from the Rift. We are under strict orders to investigate anyone coming in from a Stormcloak-controlled area."

"Why? We traverse your 'controlled' Holds all the time. What the fuck's the matter now?" Bishop growled in frustration. This wasn't normal and it was just getting him more and more agitated.

"That's classified," the woman in charge responded instantly. "Why are you asking that?"

"That was a very fucking normal thing to ask with this fucking scrutiny," Bishop folded his arms across his chest defiantly. Who the fuck wouldn't ask that at this point?

"Just… we're not Stormcloaks. We were adventuring in the Rift and we're going to adventure here now," Aeyrin repeated desperately. She could probably just tell them who she was, but she never wanted to do that. "What kind of questions could you even have? We're not doing anything here that concerns the Empire."

"Forget the questions. Let's start with taking a look at what you're carrying with you," the woman nodded at their backpacks.

"What?! You can't do that!" Aeyrin huffed at her. They had no right to look through their belongings!

"It's either that or you're staying for an interrogation. We don't find anything bad, you're free to go," the woman nodded, as if it was a generous deal. They shouldn't have to do any of this.

Bishop stepped forward and Aeyrin completely expected him to start yelling at them or threatening them, but much to her shock, he actually slung his pack from his back and shoved it into the woman's arms. "Fine. Enjoy. Fucking idiotic…"

That was surprisingly obedient of him. It was true that they had nothing to hide, but…

Wait…

Oh Gods!

By the time she realized what was happening, Bishop had stepped behind her and she felt a tug on her pack. The soldiers were curiously pulling out things from Bishop's pack, which was mostly loaded with rations, hunting supplies and his clothes. She stayed terrifyingly still, trying her best not to avert their attention from their current task as Bishop worked. She couldn't see him behind her at all, of course, but the constant tugging on her pack and the fact that none of the soldiers seemed to look their way right now was comforting.

Soon the tugging stopped and Bishop stepped aside from her a bit, likely not to appear to be too close to her pack. She looked at him curiously. He looked a bit bulkier in the chest than usual, but she was sure that nobody but her would notice that. Thank the Gods for his quick thinking. They might not have been able to argue against this search. It was good that he opted for obeying them as a distraction.

One of the soldiers pulled out Bishop's royal pardon with the intent of unrolling the parchment and Bishop froze. He couldn't have them see it! His 'family' name was on there! He was still wanted in Falkreath. What if they did some background check? He would be fucked.

"That's classified!" Aeyrin yelped in his stead in panic. She seemed to realize the same thing right away. Both of them remembered the books, but this thing had slipped their mind.

"'Classified'?" The soldier scoffed at her.

"Wait… just let me…" she quickly snatched the parchment from the man and all three of them suddenly looked ready to lunge at her, but in panic, she unrolled only the bottom of the parchment and showed them what was there: Elisif's very smudged signature along with two still preserved seals – one of the Imperial Dragon, the other the insignia of the city of Solitude. "See?"

The soldiers all shared suspicious looks, but then the woman in charge sighed and waved her hand dismissively. Even in their zealousness, they were clearly not going to risk actually glimpsing at some classified orders from Solitude.

"You could have said you are in the Empire's employ," she growled, but she continued to rummage through Bishop's pack nonetheless.

"It's fucking classified. She just told you," Bishop snarled back at her. It didn't matter that it wasn't actually true. At least they weren't insisting on looking at the pardon.

They didn't say anything else. They fortunately put everything back in Bishop's pack – he was watching them very carefully. Thieves were everywhere. And then they gestured for Aeyrin to pass them hers. They clearly didn't care about their supposed 'employ by the Empire' enough to let them go right away.

Aeyrin passed them her things with a sigh, hoping that Bishop got both those books on Talos. That would have been very unpleasant.

For the first time, she was kind of grateful that all her letters from Master Therien had been destroyed in Irkngthand. They would definitely read those. And fortunately, those were the only ones she ever kept.

There was one letter in her pack though. One she had almost forgotten about. But when the woman in charge saw the name at the back of it, her eyes went wide.

"I… uh… to Commander Maro of the Penitus Oculatus? I shouldn't be reading this…" she stammered and, without even unfolding it, she quickly stashed the letter back into the pack.

"No, you shouldn't," Bishop threw her a glare. They didn't care if she read about the assassin, but the less people that knew the better. And it was all the better when their opportune notes were making these dimwits double back from their stupid search.

"Enough," the woman ordered the soldiers and they diligently put the few items they had taken back into Aeyrin's pack. "You're fine. We're… sorry for the inconvenience," she murmured, now much more ashamed than hostile as she handed Aeyrin her pack back. "Long live the Empire."

"Whatever," Bishop scoffed at her. Fortunately the soldiers didn't delay them any longer and they all promptly rushed back into their fort.

Bishop and Aeyrin didn't speak for a while as they continued down the road towards Falkreath. They didn't dare to.

Once they were far enough from the fort though, it seemed like they both let out a sigh of relief simultaneously. Bishop promptly opened his armor and began to pull out the books about Talos he had placed under it.

"What the fuck was that?" he shook his head incredulously.

"I don't know. But we were so lucky," Aeyrin sighed. "Thank you, by the way. I almost forgot about them."

"Yeah, I feel like that would have landed us in a shitload of trouble. Not to mention that pardon. Quick thinking there," he smirked.

"Y-yeah… I panicked," she chuckled nervously. "I think I preferred the road through Whiterun Hold, even with everything…"

"This one was more trouble than it was worth," Bishop snorted. "Let's just hope we can finally get to Falkreath without interruptions."

…

They managed to follow the forest roads until they reached the city even before the sun came down. That was a considerable relief. The last thing they wanted was to walk through the forest in the dark their very first night.

Especially after the journey they had. It wasn't exactly a great start. But they were determined to change that soon. It was starting now.

After quickly stuffing the letter for Commander Maro into a mailbox, they had a good meal at Dead Man's Drink and a proper warm bath after they were forced to skip last night's in Froki's cabin. There was no way that they were washing there. And then, a comfortable bed awaited them.

They were still a bit wary, even here in the city, so they opted to trap their room again, in case of any unexpected ambushes. But with that, they felt a lot more comfortable sleeping here than anywhere else after the old assassin's attack.

And especially since they ensured that they had a different room from the one that they had when… things happened. When they were waiting here for Karliah's attack on Thorn's base.

A different room with a different layout made it all a little more comfortable. And even though there was no staving off the occasional unpleasant memories invading their minds, they were determined to do their best to try.

They planned to spend the next day in the city only – recuperating from all the dragons and exhausting journeys and enjoying some of the perks of civilization for a change after spending so much time out there in the wilderness of the Rift.

So, after a decent sleep, plagued with some inevitable nightmares due to their current location and the memories it held, and after a good breakfast, Bishop and Aeyrin headed out into the city to actually look around the shops for the first time without rushing through. Well, it wasn't the first time spending a leisurely day in the town for Bishop, but the last time he did was before the whole mess with Ysolda went down. That was a few years ago already.

Though Falkreath itself didn't look entirely… leisurely.

They hadn't even noticed the night before. Or maybe there wasn't anything to notice back then.

But Falkreath was crawling with Imperial soldiers.

There was that faint hope that a lot of them were just Penitus Oculatus agents, disguising as regular soldiers, but that was naïve. There surely weren't too many of them. That would be more suspicious than anything. Something was going on in the city.

Some of the soldiers were rushing somewhere, others were standing there in small formations. It looked kind of like a military training, but those didn't really happen in cities, did they? It would look like they were preparing to be invaded or something, but the citizens around seemed quite calm, just going about their days.

So Aeyrin and Bishop decided to emulate them and ignore the soldiers as best as they could.

That proved a little harder done than said.

They didn't have much to sell and much to spend, but they needed at least some supplies for the road, in case they got stuck there. And rations and potions were always a necessity. A trip to the general store and the alchemist was practically obligatory.

Bishop browsed the potions at the fittingly named 'Grave Concoctions' as Aeyrin talked to the shopkeeper. She barely finished stashing the healing potions she had just bought into her pack when the door swung open with much more force than necessary and an Imperial soldier barged inside.

"What now?" the shopkeeper snarled at the man instantly. It would have seemed like a stranger reaction if the soldier hadn't come in so aggressively.

"The Imperial Legion requisitions healing and magicka potions. Two dozen of each," the soldier proclaimed in a stern voice.

"You're kidding, right?" The Redguard woman behind the counter only scoffed, but the man didn't answer anymore. He just stood there, quite threateningly, waiting.

The woman didn't seem to have a lot of options. Bishop and Aeyrin only stared at the scene in confusion as she started to mutter under her breath, but she did walk towards a shelf and began to collect the requested potions from it. It took a while of endless uncomfortable silence while she got what she needed – almost everything she could scrounge up from around the store.

Much to their surprise, the soldier only grabbed the potions from the woman without a word. He didn't pay at all and he disappeared from the building within a second. The unpleasant silence reigned over the room before Bishop finally broke it.

"What the fuck was that about?" he scoffed. Did the soldier really just take the potions without paying? Maybe he pre-paid or something.

"Ugh. The Legion. They come in here, take all our stock without a drake and act like they have the right to bleed us dry for their shit," the Redguard snarled angrily.

"They take your stock? Just like that? They can do that?" Aeyrin gaped at her in shock. This was the first time she had seen the Legion act like this. Both at that fort near the mountains and now here. It was so strange. Tullius was really someone who liked to take whatever he wanted, but to do it so blatantly?

"They can now. Military operation," the woman sighed. "It's classified. The Jarl just said we need to do whatever is asked by the Legionnaires. For the good of the Empire and all that shit. But… you know, people talk. I guess it is for the best."

"What do you mean? Talk about what?" Aeyrin scowled. How could this behavior be for the good of anything?

"That operation of theirs," the Redguard shrugged. "We all know what happened. Stormcloaks took the fort out there. Sungard. The Empire's trying to get it back and it's regrouping here. Launching attacks on it or something."

"How the fuck is that 'for the best'?" Bishop scoffed. "So they're fighting over some old fort. Who cares?" He remembered that fort – they saw one of the Stormcloak attacks on it from a distance, then a dragon. And people in Windhelm talked about soldiers trying to capture it. Why the fuck was everyone obsessed with this one fort? Was Ulfric really coming to get the Reach?

"Well… it sucks, but it's better if they succeed," the woman sighed. "They say that Ulfric's trying to take over the Reach because that fort's in the Reach, right? But Jarl Siddgeir doesn't think so. It's kind of… on the border. He allowed the military operations here because he thinks that Ulfric doesn't really want the Reach. Not yet."

"You think he's trying to take Falkreath?" Aeyrin raised her brows at the notion. It did make a bit more sense than taking the Reach. Or trying to. Or dying while trying to, more likely. Falkreath may have been an easier target.

"The Jarl thinks so. And it's kind of scary, so… what are you gonna do? We just grit our teeth and hope they take the fort back soon," the alchemist merely shook her head in resignation. "Better to have soldiers charging from our town than soldiers charging at it, right?"

That was a fair point, but the whole situation was still unsettling.

Maybe it was for the best though. At least these 'charging soldiers' would keep those at the fort too occupied to have the city attacked.

That would have been the last thing they needed to deal with.

…

The rest of the day passed in much the same manner. It was quite uncomfortable with all those soldiers in the city, running around, making it seem like war was brewing.

Well, war was brewing. Or already happening, to be more exact, but it tended to avoid the cities. This was making it feel all too real, all too close. Like a reminder for everyone that this would eventually be happening. Cities would be taken over, innocent people slaughtered for no good reason.

It was best not to think of these things too much.

Bishop and Aeyrin decided to enjoy their evening at the inn instead, mostly absorbed in each other's company. So far, their stay in Falkreath had only been worthwhile when they ignored everything that was going on here. Maybe the Hold really was cursed. Maybe it wasn't just the forests. There was always this strange foreboding feeling nagging at them here, but that was likely because of their past experiences. They were here to move on a little further from those after all.

When they were at the inn, only enjoying the amenities and the food, it was much easier to do that.

"How can you not think that it's just annoying wailing?" Bishop smirked as he watched Aeyrin's eyes drift over to the bard in the corner of the room occasionally. The blond man was singing the same old song, this time only enhancing the strained atmosphere by singing that stupid tune about Imperials and the Stormcloak aggressors. Maybe one of the soldiers who were in the tavern 'requested' it as well, just like those potions.

"I like his voice. The song is kind of… uhm… but the voice is nice," Aeyrin chuckled. She wished that the bards they often saw in taverns had a wider repertoire. Some of them did. Lynly knew more songs, they knew that. But she was still asked to sing those familiar Nordic tunes most of the time anyway. It probably wasn't the fault of the bards that everyone else wanted them to sing these.

"Pfft, sounds like a scamp trying to mount a skeever," Bishop snorted.

"That's a… vivid image," Aeyrin chuckled at him. How would he even know what something like that sounded like?

"I can't think of anything else when I hear him," he laughed as well. "You know, you haven't sung in a while. You should really rectify that. And make him shut up as a bonus."

Aeyrin giggled at his ulterior motives, but he did have a point. She hadn't sung in a while and when he mentioned that, she got really eager to do that. She didn't even realize how much she had missed it until he said it.

But before she could even plan out whether to ask the innkeeper or the bard to take a break first, a familiar figure entered the inn – a dark-haired Imperial with a satchel on his side. Their courier. He noted them instantly in the room and he jogged over to them with a somewhat disgruntled expression on his face.

"I couldn't find you," the man grumbled when he reached them, but he did diligently pull out a letter from his satchel and handed it to Aeyrin.

"Yes… sorry… we had to… do a… dispel thing. Not because of the Courier Service, just… other things," Aeyrin stammered a bit. Poor man. He always had a hard time finding them, even with his clairvoyance spell. Without it, it must have been much worse. It was still impressive how fast he had gotten here though – this was only their second night in the town.

"Yeah, we're gonna be doing that sometimes now," Bishop nodded at the man and it only earned them an exasperated sigh.

"Sorry… it's… important," Aeyrin gave him a regretful smile. They couldn't risk the Brotherhood finding them with the spell, not just for the courier's convenience. It was a necessary sacrifice to be getting their letters later and giving him a bit more trouble again.

"Well… not that I can do anything about that," the man sighed. "That's another reason we shouldn't tell people, you know? They get paranoid."

"This isn't about you," Bishop scoffed at him. Who cared about the courier? There were much more dangerous people out there capable of this shit.

"No, of course," he sighed again. "Never mind. I'm… forgetting myself. Imperial Courier Service. Have a pleasant evening," he gave them a diligent, though a bit strained, smile and he turned on his heel instantly.

Aeyrin and Bishop looked as he disappeared from the inn again before they turned towards each other once more.

"Hey, he's still pretty fast," Bishop smirked. It was true. And Aeyrin was more than eager to see her letter.

Every letter these days just filled her with both anxiety and hope. She tore the envelope open quickly and unfolded the paper with equal eagerness.

.

Dear lady Aeyrin,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am pleased to say that things during my business trip to Cyrodiil went well. The unscrupulous person we had talked about is no longer in business with our friend and he will not be returning. Everything is well.

Sincerely

Lord Brunwulf Free-Winter

.

Aeyrin stared at the words with a strange feeling enveloping her. So the spy down south was taken care of. And… everything was 'well'. That was good. Right? Yes. Of course it was. It was nothing but good.

"What's wrong?" Bishop's brows creased as he studied her expression.

"Nothing. It's… good news," she smiled weakly at him and passed him the letter. Bishop's eyes scanned it for a brief moment before he handed it back to her again.

"This is good news. So what's wrong?" he still kept scowling as he watched her face. She looked kind of worried.

"Nothing," she repeated, but when Bishop only gave her a deadpan look, she relented. "I just… thought Master Therien would write, you know?" She couldn't help it. She wouldn't be calm until she heard from the man himself. Even when everything about Brunwulf's messages kept reassuring her, there was no real comfort until she would know with absolute certainty that her old mentor was alright.

"Princess, he's gonna write soon. Brunwulf just probably beat him to it. I'm sure another letter will arrive in no time," Bishop grabbed her hand on the table in a reassuring gesture.

He was right. She knew he was right. But she still felt a little crestfallen. That was so silly. She just got great news. What was wrong with her?

She just needed to wait a bit for another letter. That was all. It would surely arrive very soon, just like Bishop had said. For now, she should really take her mind off things for a bit.

"So… where are we going tomorrow? I should get the map," she mused. The map was back in their room, but they needed to plan out what they were going to do. There was no way they would go blind into the forests. They needed to know the exact places they would venture into before they did.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I have a plan," Bishop smirked at her, squeezing her hand a bit.

"You do?" Aeyrin raised her brow at him, though she shouldn't probably be too surprised. He knew this place so much better than her. Even if he avoided the forests, he surely knew the best landmarks around the roads and such. "Care to enlighten me?"

"Not really. It's a surprise," he gave her a sly wink. He thought about doing this a while ago and not spilling the beans right away would only make it better.

"Oh really?" she chuckled. "Well then, I guess I can't spoil that."

"That's right. So, how about you leave the plans to me for now and go free me of that awful wailing instead already," he inclined his head towards that bard again. He was kind of excited to hear her sing too. It's been a while.

He always loved listening to her.

…

Aeyrin's voice carried through the inn, accompanied by the pleasant tune of her lute.

It was always a nice addition to their evening. There was nothing quite like drowning out all that tavern noise and just concentrating on her singing. And Bishop wouldn't really complain about the fact that they got free refills of their mead for the rest of the night for her performance. Though he wasn't planning on abusing that too much. He didn't want to be hungover for what he was planning for tomorrow.

Aeyrin had sung a couple of songs already, but the crowd still seemed much more interested in her than they had been in that screeching bard. It was no wonder. Who even wanted to hear all that shit repeated on and on every day?

And he himself could definitely watch her like this all day.

Though his attention did get briefly diverted.

For a moment, he felt eyes on him and he quickly looked around the room. Everyone seemed all too absorbed in Aeyrin's performance though. Except for one girl. He couldn't even see her face though, just her black curly hair – the rest was buried nose-deep in some book.

Well, his paranoia wasn't surprising. After everything that happened, it was almost automatic. And being in Falkreath wasn't exactly helping matters.

But tomorrow, that would all be forgotten.

The current song has ended and people started to clap for her. She always got a bit flustered at this stage. It was cute. Her confidence prevailed when the music played, but once it was over, she was back to her usual shyness at the attention.

He hoped she would play one more at least. And the patrons seemed to be of the same opinion. Aeyrin did look at Bishop for a while, but when she only got a smile in return, she grabbed her lute properly again to start playing. Maybe she wondered if he was missing her already. Well, he kind of was. They could be doing fun stuff in their room, but then again, that could wait. He was enjoying himself like this too. And she looked to have finally put some worries out of her mind.

The soft tune started to play, but before Aeyrin's voice could join in, the door to the inn swung open with force, just like it had before at the alchemist's.

Three soldiers came in, looking very stern and menacing. Maybe that was some kind of Imperial policy – they had to learn this look as part of basic training perhaps.

Most of the patrons groaned in annoyance and those that were by the bar or in front of Aeyrin, swaying to the music, had all returned to their tables. One of the soldiers promptly looked at Aeyrin and he snapped his fingers, gesturing towards the general areas where the tables were. He wanted her to return to hers too.

What the fuck was going on?

Bishop stared at the scene in disbelief while Aeyrin rushed back towards him. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something. That girl who had her head buried in that book before was now by the door, slipping out quietly. He only caught the sight of her hair and wine-colored dress slipping through the small opening.

That didn't bode well if a person was already escaping covertly. What the fuck did these soldiers want?

The three of them split up and each headed towards one of the tables. One of them made his way towards Bishop and Aeyrin as well.

"Travelers," he nodded at them with a stony expression.

"What is it?" Bishop snarled at him. This was getting fucking tiresome. How did the people here tolerate this, just because some fucking fear-mongers convinced them that Ulfric's gonna attack?

"A draft. We are authorized to recruit anyone on Imperial territory for war efforts," the soldier stated matter-of-factly. "General's orders."

So, Tullius went through with this. And decided to go at it like this? That would likely win him no allies.

"We're citizens of Haafingar!" Aeyrin promptly gave him a fierce scowl.

"Oh really?" the man scoffed. "Do you have proof?"

"Not here," Aeyrin gave him an incredulous look. Should she be carrying the deed to their mansion with her at all times? That was ridiculous. "I'm a thane. Of Haafingar I mean."

"Right. And I'm a…" the man started to mock her, but he was suddenly interrupted by his fellow soldier with a firm 'psst'. The second soldier only shook his head at the first, gesturing with his hand swiping in front of his neck to 'cut it out'. It seemed like at least one of them knew about Aeyrin's thaneship.

"Fine… whatever," the soldier by their table shrugged and moved on.

They only watched the scene for a while. Most people managed to shake the soldiers off, likely locals with Falkreath citizenship. But there was one young woman who was grabbed by the soldiers. One of them gripped her by the elbow and she started to beg them to leave her alone. But the soldiers didn't listen.

It was intensely uncomfortable to watch. Not just for them. Nobody in the tavern seemed to know what to say or do as the woman was dragged away.

This seemed to be the reality for the people of Falkreath now under Imperial 'military operations'. It was more terrifying than they would have even imagined.

They couldn't have picked a worse place to settle in for a while.

And they couldn't get out into the wilderness for the day soon enough.

This shit was better left forgotten.

Bishop did think back on the girl that managed to slip out for a second. She was lucky. Or skilled. Whichever one, he felt like he had escaped this shit just as easily by sheer luck. He didn't even want to imagine what he would have done without Aeyrin around to be recognized by the soldiers. Sometimes that fame did come in handy.

He shook the thought off. It was pointless to dwell on it. On any of it.

Hopefully, even after this somber moment, they could enjoy the rest of their evening.

And if not, he would make up for that tomorrow tenfold.