Chapter CXLVI – Clever Men

Aeyrin paced in front of the longhouse nervously.

It was taking so long. Why was everything taking so long? Her nerves were a wreck. She tried to play this stupid game. She went back to the inn, with no other avenues whatsoever, and she ignored the whispering locals as she retreated to the room again. All Bishop's things were still there. She wasn't even entirely sure if he had some lockpicks in his pocket, if it came to that. He was forced to walk out of the inn, barefoot and in nothing but his trousers.

She tried to 'get some rest'. She needed to wait until the morning anyway. But sleep didn't come. Maybe she dozed off for a bit in her exhaustion, but she didn't remember it. She just remembered tossing and turning in panic. How did this happen so suddenly? Was it just a coincidence that the anonymous tattle-tale struck now? Or were they here? Did they know that Bishop was here? That he would be arrested?

Who would do this to him? And why? Why not claim the bounty instead? Then the motive would at least be clear! This was just so confusing. And so frustrating.

The worst part was that… she didn't know how to help him. What could she even do to help him? Reason with the Jarl about the ridiculousness of the bounty? Plead and cry until he took pity on her? Argue with him until he relented? Kill a dragon for him? She certainly didn't have enough money to bribe someone like him.

She was at a loss.

She felt completely exhausted, sleep-deprived and stressed, but she still couldn't let that overtake her even for a second. The second the first ray of morning sun peeked through the room's window, she rushed outside again, towards the longhouse.

And she was told to wait.

The Jarl was taking his sweet time – still sleeping or bathing or having breakfast or such. The guards by the door always had an excuse for him. She was starting to think that the man was doing this to her on purpose. She felt like she had been pacing there for hours, just drowning in the thoughts of how this would all go.

It was going to be a disaster. Nothing in this city ever worked out. She was going to mess up and she was going to have to break Bishop out of prison and she would get caught and then he would get executed anyway.

No. She couldn't let that happen. She would get him out of there, no matter the cost.

She just had to… improvise. She could do that. Just as long as she was doing something and not just pacing out here helplessly. She spotted the Penitus agent from last night walk by sometimes as he shot her a sympathetic look, but other than that, nobody paid attention to her. The guards seemed to ignore her and it was clear from the lack of angry mobs that the reason for Bishop's arrest hasn't been made public.

She had no idea what that could mean. She would be grateful for that fact, but since she had no idea what the Jarl was intending, she couldn't bring herself to look at any of this positively.

"Hey!" suddenly a voice tore her away from her doom-musing. She turned around sharply – she knew where it came from. The longhouse. "The Jarl's in audience now, in case you were interested or something," the guard by the door chuckled at her meanly.

She couldn't even bring herself to get annoyed at his mocking tone. She just sprang forth and ran towards the door.

No matter what, she would get Bishop out of this alive.

…

"Dragonborn!"

The man on the throne grinned at her enthusiastically the second she stepped inside. A dark-haired Nord. He looked quite young for a Jarl, no older than in his mid-twenties. Then again, Elisif could have been just as young too and she was the High Queen. He was wearing quite lavish clothing and he was adorned with expensive-looking jewelry. She couldn't help but wonder if it was normal for a Jarl or if most of this was just the result of his corrupt dealings.

She shouldn't be thinking that though. Maybe he was a reasonable man and all that corruption talk was just that – talk. She still had to hope that he would hear her out without expecting something she couldn't give in return. Besides, Jarls were rich anyway, right? Even if those like Balgruuf didn't present themselves as such.

"Jarl Siddgeir. I don't believe we've had the pleasure yet. What a shame," he smiled at her when she approached his throne nervously. He extended his hand to her and it looked like he wanted her to kiss his ring or something. But she opted to only shake it awkwardly in that position. That would have been way too embarrassing if that wasn't his intention. And if it was, she wasn't exactly eager to do that at all.

"Uhm… nice to meet you," she mumbled. She felt completely thrown by his excitement and amicability. Did he not know why she was here?

"I've been wondering why you haven't graced our town with your presence that much or for very long. I almost took it personally," he gave her a look of clearly mock outrage. "But I guess… now I know."

Oh. He did know why she was here. His smile was uncomfortably biting at that moment.

"I… uhm… no… I mean…" she stammered. What did it matter why she avoided Falkreath? That was in the past she needed to focus on Bishop now. "I came here to…"

"I know why you came here," Jarl Siddgeir interrupted her as he raised his hand. "You came here to ask me to release your man. To give him a pardon for the heinous crimes his family has committed in my Hold. So tragically romantic," he smirked. It sounded so… mocking when he said that. Gods, she was not getting a good feeling from this conversation.

"Y-yes. I… the bounty was issued when…" she started to talk again, eager to try to convince him already, but the man did not intend to let her speak.

"Yes, yes. The circumstances are irrelevant right now. The bounty is there and I have an obligation to my citizens. In theory…" his smile turned a little… devious. What did that mean? That he could be bought? With what? He kept this a secret. He expected something in return – there was no question about it. He could sweep this under the rug. He left that door wide open. The only question was: what did he want?

"What would you…" she tried to ask carefully, but once more, he wouldn't let her.

"We'll discuss everything, don't you worry, my dear. There's lots to talk about. Just the two of us without any prying ears and eyes," he smirked. That… tone made her very uncomfortable. What did that mean? And why did none of the people in the throne room seem even a little bit disturbed by him trying to keep some deals about a criminal's release a secret? The Nord man in heavy armor with the stag's insignia on the chest and the Altmer woman in a fancy gown next to the throne did not even flinch a little at his wording.

"How about you join me for dinner tonight and we'll discuss your bandit's predicament. Sounds good?" he gave her another very disturbing smile. Gods, that did not 'sound good' at all. For multiple reasons.

"What? No, it can't wait until…" Aeyrin tried to speak up once more, but it proved to be fruitless yet again.

"It can wait. I have some… business to conclude. Urgent one. You would do well to respect that, dear," he scowled a bit. Making her squirm even more. "I will see you at sun-down and we'll talk."

Gods, what else was she supposed to do? He wouldn't even let her speak, let alone convince him to hear her out now. She felt so helpless.

And… dinner? Why did that make her so nervous? She had dinner with a jarl before. Or maybe it was always lunch with Idgrod. She didn't recall and it wasn't even important. She just got a very bad feeling about what this man wanted from her with all those strange smiles.

But… no. She could be just overthinking. He was willing to talk. That was good. It was gut-wrenching to think about how long she would have to wait for that to happen, but what choice did she have? Surely he wouldn't have Bishop executed in the meantime. He wanted something from her.

And whatever it was, she was going to do anything to get that pardon for Bishop.

She let out a defeated sigh and turned on her heel. There was nothing more for her to do there now. She had to play by his rules.

As she almost left the longhouse, Siddgeir's voice echoed behind her back once more.

"Don't worry so much, dear! He's still alive. For now."

…

Bishop rattled the bars of his cage again, trying to get attention.

Nobody was paying any to him. Normally that would really be ideal, but this fucking pissed him off to no end! All that for some stupid fucking dart! That guy was definitely fine. It's not like Aeyrin would let him die without a fucking antidote. And yet they still held him here.

For what? For being 'rude' to the guards? Who the fuck cared? Didn't they have more important shit to worry about with the fucking Imperial army launching attacks from their town and provoking the Stormcloaks?

Nobody spoke to him the entire time when he was led into the prison. Nobody even let him talk. Every time he tried, he got poked into his back with that fucking sword. He couldn't get a word out. Not even if he tried to apologize, which he shouldn't have to! They were the ones to barge into their room like that!

But he would, just to get them off his back. If they even fucking let him.

He spent the entire night in that cell. No matter how much he tried, nobody would talk to him. There were no other prisoners there, but he was in only one room – they passed another before and that one had a few people in the cells. But here, he was alone. Only the guard came in sometimes. But he wouldn't talk and he wouldn't listen to anything that Bishop said.

It was so fucking weird to be here just for that dart. He kept thinking about it, obsessing about it. He kept thinking about why that guard stayed with Aeyrin at the inn. Was this even about him? Did they want something from her?

Fuck, if only he could know if she was alright. This was fucking excruciating. She didn't come to see him all night. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe they wouldn't let her. He knew all too well that she wouldn't just be able to rest and leave him in jail, though it was likely that they wouldn't let her exactly visit him in the middle of the night.

She was fine though. He knew she was fine. He hoped she was fine. Forcing himself to believe that was the only thing saving him from a full-blown panic.

He would have loved nothing more than to find out if she was alright. Fuck, he might have even broken out of here just to make sure. They could be fugitives then. But who the fuck cared? As long as they were both fine.

But he couldn't break out.

Because of course they fucking searched him and found the lockpick in his pocket. That… probably didn't help his case.

Fuck, if only he could explain about that stupid trap. Where were the Penitus agents? Couldn't they speak up for him? They knew what was going on.

He tried to get some sleep through the night, though he didn't get much. And when he could, he made noise to attract someone.

But it never worked.

It was morning already, but nothing changed.

Not until the door to his cellblock opened at last and a man walked in.

This wasn't the same guard. But that made sense. They probably changed shifts. Though this one was carrying a tray with half a loaf of bread, a small block of cheese and a tankard. Also a parchment in his other hand.

There was a hole on the bottom of the cell to slide the tray in and the man did promptly. But Bishop was more interested in information than the food.

"Listen, I'm sorry about that fucking trap, it was an accident. But…" he quickly started to talk, but the guard interrupted him promptly by punching into the bars, letting the sound reverberate through the room.

"Quiet, prisoner," he scowled at him.

Fuck. Why wouldn't they let him talk? It was just a fucking trap! Did that guy die or something?

"Your execution is scheduled on the fifth of Rain's Hand," the man suddenly announced matter-of-factly.

What?!

'Execution'?! Were they fucking serious? That was insane! And it was like four days from now!

"For what?! I didn't do anything! Those guards barged into the room without fucking…" he growled angrily. He had to make a lot of effort to even speak coherently as everything seemed to spin around him. How did this shit go so horribly wrong? What was going on?

But once more, he wasn't allowed to speak.

"Shut the fuck up about that trap!" the man snarled. And before Bishop could defend himself further, he pointedly grabbed the parchment in his hand and unrolled it in front of Bishop.

Whatever words were already forming in his mouth, they practically evaporated at the sight. It felt like his breath left him entirely as well. He was just staring at that thing. That thing that had been haunting him for so fucking long.

That fucking bounty.

It made its way into Falkreath too – without a doubt the work of the anonymous sender. Bishop still had no idea who it was. He used to have suspicions. Casavir? Azshan? Vilkas? None of them panned out. None of them made sense anymore. But apparently, the culprit was irrelevant now.

They got what they wanted. It had finally caught up with him.

"That's not me…" his voice came all hoarse. He tried. He tried the only thing he could think of. He knew it wouldn't work. "I… I don't have that burn mark or…"

"No. This is you," the guard smirked at him and pointed to the portrait of the small child. Nobody would recognize him like that. They could mistake him for Torban. But not like this. They were told who he was exactly by that mysterious sender. There could be no doubt. "Save your breath. You're going down for this. Just enjoy your last few days on Nirn, bandit scum."

Bishop couldn't even talk anymore anyway.

His mind was completely blank. When he should be thinking of a plan of how to get out of this, he couldn't think of a single thing.

He was fucked.

…

Aeyrin felt like she had spent the whole day pacing nervously somewhere.

She tried to sleep, she tried to eat something too, but she didn't manage either much. Her sleep was constantly interrupted by overwhelming thoughts filled with doom and gloom and various tragic scenarios that were sure to transpire in the end. And food had no taste at all. She just took a few bites of something to shut her growling stomach up.

She was so nervous and worried about that 'dinner'. She felt like she was constantly shaking. She had no idea what to expect from this man.

She kept reminding herself of what was important – Bishop was alive and the Jarl clearly wanted to make some sort of a deal. Nothing else mattered in the slightest.

She took a final deep breath when the Jarl's steward, the Altmer woman, finally gestured to her that the man himself was ready to dine. She had been waiting for him in the longhouse for at least an hour.

Though granted, she had arrived well before sundown. She couldn't wait anymore.

She walked into the room where she had been ushered briskly. When she entered, she instantly noted that it was no dining room with a long table for the whole longhouse, as she was used to with Jarl Idgrod. This could only be Siddgeir's bedroom. It was quite large and lavish. There was a huge bed right in the middle of the room in a very questionably inconvenient position, and the man himself was already waiting for her, sitting by a table only big enough for two, maybe three people to dine at. The food was already there, as was the wine bottle. They would probably not be disturbed by anyone for the rest of the evening.

This was… so uncomfortably intimate. She didn't think she could get any more nervous about all of this, but she did. Gods, how she hoped this wasn't what it looked like. He wouldn't ask someone to… do that for releasing a prisoner, would he?

"Welcome back," he smirked at her and gestured towards the chair opposite him.

She didn't walk there. Her legs felt like lead.

"Well come on, don't look so nervous, dear," he chuckled a bit. "We'll figure this mess out together. Come," he gestured towards the chair again. That… didn't make her feel any better. But what else was there to do? She just had to get Bishop out of that prison, no matter what.

She took a shuddering breath, hoping that Siddgeir didn't hear that. She wanted to be strong. To show him that she wouldn't be intimidated or played. Like she sometimes managed with Ulfric when she got mad. But she couldn't even be mad now. She was just… terrified. Not just of what he would want. Most of all, she was terrified that they wouldn't, in fact, be able to figure this out together. That she wouldn't be able to save Bishop.

Her feet felt unsteady, but she walked towards the chair and sat herself down nervously.

The Jarl just watched her for a while with a disturbingly interested expression. She wasn't sure if she could speak. He always interrupted her before. But he wasn't speaking either.

The second she opened her mouth, however, his voice cut her off again.

"I am so glad we could do this. I've been wanting to meet you for quite a while," he smiled warmly, but from him, it felt kind of unnerving. "I'm always interested in making new… friends."

What did that mean?

"Uhm… y-yes… I'm… glad to meet you too," she stammered a bit. What was she even supposed to say to that?

"I didn't expect this predicament, that is for certain," he scoffed. "But it does give me certain… opportunities. I wouldn't complain about that. From our earlier conversation, I gathered that you found out the reason for your man's arrest? Despite my orders to my men," he scowled a bit.

"Yes," she sighed. She wasn't sure if she should say how she found out, but maybe with a little context… "I was told by… uhm… see, there's a problem with the…"

"The Brotherhood, yes. I'm aware," he interrupted her again. But at least she didn't have to explain. "I have to be aware of that. I am the one the Penitus Oculatus agents need to deal with after all for their investigations. I fully support their efforts, of course." He waved his hand dismissively and she wasn't sure if he meant that or not. She couldn't be sure of whom this man was dealing with at all. "They needed to investigate my guards and the legitimacy of this arrest warrant. But, since it indeed is legitimate, that's where their work ends. They are not authorized to interfere with the jurisdiction of the Holds. You understand this, right?"

"Yes. I know," she sighed. She knew that. And the agents weren't there to help her and Bishop out of their own messes that didn't include the Brotherhood.

"Good. Then we understand each other's positions. I assume you knew about this bounty before now? I heard rumors of a similar nature out of Whiterun, but there was no tangible connection to anyone. I didn't even know such a clan ever existed," he chuckled. "Imagine my surprise when this bounty practically landed on my lap last night. With a helpful letter explaining who I should actually be looking for."

"Last night?" Aeyrin scowled. Whoever sent it, they knew that Bishop was here and that he would get arrested. It couldn't be a coincidence. It happened in Solitude too. Maybe in Riften as well, but Maven intercepted that one. "I… don't suppose you know who…?"

"No. It was completely anonymous and delivered by the Imperial Courier Service," Siddgeir shrugged. "But all that is irrelevant now. It is what it is. Your secret is out. With me and a select few of my men. And some Penitus Oculatus agents, I suppose. As you well know, I have gone to some lengths to keep this a secret a while longer so that we can discuss our course of action together. Which I didn't have to. If the word got out, I would have no choice in this matter and I would have to placate the masses. But that doesn't have to be the case. I'm sure you appreciate that."

"Y-yes. Thank you… for that," Aeyrin nodded. It was better this way. It was a chance. She just still didn't know what this would entail.

"Well, my dear. No need to be nervous. Now's your chance," he smirked at her. Why did it seem like he was just toying with her? "Don't look so stiff. Here, have some wine. The venison is excellent as well. Have something to eat while it's warm," he continued to speak as he poured each of them a goblet of wine. She could tell by the bottle that it was that alto stuff she hated.

He raised his goblet when he was done and she did the same, trying to will her hand to stop shaking. She clinked the goblet against his and they both took a sip. She took only a tiny one. She didn't want to drink that stuff and her throat felt like it had a lump in it anyway.

Jarl Siddgeir began to cut up the spiced venison on his plate. The food all looked really good, but she kind of felt like throwing up when she looked at it. She couldn't eat. She was surprised that she even managed to breathe with how bated her breath felt all the time.

"So, my dear, like I said, now's your chance," he continued to talk before he took a bite of the meat. He chewed, making the tension even more palpable, before he swallowed and spoke again. "Go ahead. Plead your case."

Oh. Alright.

"Y-you saw the bounty," she started to talk. Gods, she hated how meek she sounded just then. "He… he was a child when it was issued. He didn't… he couldn't do anything to the people of Skyrim. How can you accuse someone so small of banditry? It's not fair." Alright, now she was sounding more confident in her consistent outrage about this ridiculous bounty.

"It's not fair," Siddgeir nodded at her. She didn't actually expect him to agree. "Life's not fair, dear. You think it's fair that the people affected by the raging of this clan lost their relatives and their fortunes? You think they care about how old he was when it happened? Everyone always wants a scapegoat."

"But you don't have to tell them," Aeyrin scowled at him. "There's no reason to."

"Oh, there is a reason to. There are multiple reasons to," he scoffed. "People would be grateful to me. They would revere me for avenging them. That's one that would come to mind instantly. And another reason… well, that's why you're here isn't it? I have leverage."

Right. His leverage. Great. He was not just going to give Bishop a pardon for nothing. She had no idea how else to 'plead her case'. She wasn't sure what other card to play on Bishop's behalf but the sympathy one.

"You would really convict an innocent man?" she shook her head at him incredulously.

"'Innocent'?" he chuckled at her. "Child or not, he participated in banditry. And if that wasn't enough, his trap assaulted one of my men. Not to mention defying their orders."

"But… the trap was because of the…"

"I don't care about the trap," he interrupted her again. "I don't even care about the banditry or about anything that he had done, really. The reasons and excuses don't matter. The convictions stand. But what did he do to earn my pardon?"

What did he do? What could he do? There was no conviction a day ago! He killed those damned vampires! But… telling Siddgeir that could just make things worse. He…

Oh!

"He killed Thorn," Aeyrin promptly shot that fact back at him. Gods, she hoped that Bishop was right and Siddgeir didn't have any dealings with Thorn's clans. It made sense – why would Siddgeir tolerate such a force at his doorstep? And he had issued that huge bounty on Thorn too.

Siddgeir's eyes went wide at her in amazement and, for a second, she thought she did it. She thought that was it – she 'pleaded her case' successfully.

But his amazement turned into amusement all too soon.

"Excuse me?" he outright laughed at her. "My, what a bold claim. I like you." His words made shivers run down her spine, but it was no worse than the heart-wrenching disappointment at the failure. "Did he somehow disguise himself as a lithe Dunmer woman?"

"No. That was our friend. She just came to collect the bounty," Aeyrin tried to salvage her argument. "It was a… a whole operation. But he was the one that killed Thorn."

"And he didn't want to come get his money himself?" Siddgeir was still chuckling meanly. "Or are you going to claim that he was worried about his own bounty? Even though he was pretty unconcerned about it only a day ago."

"No… he was wounded. He couldn't come. You can ask the priest of Arkay, if he remembers, we were both…"

"My dear, please stop," with an amused smile still plastered on his face, Jarl Siddgeir waved his hand at her dismissively. "This is just embarrassing. Anyone could say they killed Thorn. This is no proof. Not when he wasn't the one to turn his head in. If what you're saying is true, I'm glad he got rid of that menace and you can send him my gratitude… if he's still alive eventually. But I don't really believe it is true."

She had no proof. No way to prove that Bishop really did kill that monster. It was pointless.

"Let's just stop this charade, shall we?" Siddgeir chuckled again. "There is nothing he has done to earn my pardon. We both know that."

That wasn't true! She just… couldn't tell him. Not about the vampires. Or… should she? Maybe the man at the sawmill was wrong. Maybe they were a menace too to Siddgeir.

"Now, let's move on and discuss what you can do to placate me and earn that pardon for him, hmm?" He took a long sip of his wine as he watched her with palpable intrigue in his eyes. Gods, she felt so… scrutinized. Was this all really about what she thought? He… he couldn't want that, could he? He couldn't want to coerce a woman into something like this. But those looks he kept giving her were making her very uncomfortable. "I'm just wondering what it is you have to offer." He raised his brow at her.

Alright. That was it. She had to talk him out of this. There had to be something else she could do to 'placate' him.

"Uhm… I… do you really want to… uhm… I'm sure there are… other things I would be more… willing…" she wasn't sure how to say any of it and she felt like she had suddenly forgotten to speak coherently.

The Jarl watched her intently as she stammered. His scrutiny was driving her crazy. And she couldn't stop her eyes from darting warily to the large bed in the middle of the room on occasion.

"Oh!" His eyes suddenly widened as if some realization had struck him, but before she could decipher his expression, he let out another amused laugh. "Oh my, you are really something," he chuckled. "That was not what I was referring to."

Oh. He wasn't?

Oh Gods, he wasn't?! That was so mortifying! Why would she assume that? What happened to her? She used to be clueless about this stuff. Maybe she still was, but in the other direction, it seemed. This was Bishop's doing. He was the one who kept suggesting everyone wanted to sleep with her! She would have a talk with him and how he warped her thinking right after he got… out. Gods, she had to get him out somehow. No matter what.

"Don't get me wrong, my dear," Siddgeir still chuckled. "You are very tempting and I am sure it would be quite exciting to bed the Dragonborn. But I have heard about how that kind of thing ends."

"What?" Aeyrin stared at him in confusion. Was he talking about Bishop? That didn't make much sense.

"Well I heard about some thane in Solitude that apparently made such attempts. Former thane, I believe. Entertaining tales," he smirked. Oh Gods. Erikur. How anyone could find that 'entertaining' was beyond her. And of course these rumors were all over Skyrim. She hated the rumors sometimes. "In any case, I assure you, I have plenty of women who I do not have to blackmail into my bedroom."

"Uhm… you're… blackmailing me?" she let out a nervous chuckle. She knew that he was, but she was still a little surprised that he made that remark.

"My dear, we don't call it that," he chuckled again.

"You just called it that…" At first she wasn't sure if he heard it, the way she mumbled that, but he did give her quite a mean smirk.

"Imagine that."

Well, whatever he was doing, a big weight was lifted off her with the whole uncomfortable deal out of the way. Maybe it was naïve for her to relax a little at that, but she was really worried about it being his intention. Maybe it would still get worse though.

"So… what do you want me to do?" she asked at last. This dance had taken way too long. She needed to know already.

"Ah, good. To the point," he nodded. "You have many uses, my dear. There are many ways in which you could… convince me."

"If there are any dragons around…"

"No," he laughed heartily. "I am not wasting this opportunity on something you would do anyway. I am not an imbecile. Besides, there are none too close."

Well… that was fair. She would kill a dragon anyway if it threatened the town.

"You have an interesting political pull, for someone of unknown background," he noted after he stopped chuckling. Dammit. Ugh. Politics. "And you are quite skilled in battle, from what I hear. So many options."

"I'm not helping the Legion get that fort," she scowled at him promptly. She was not going to participate in the war. There had to be another way to placate him.

"Do you always jump to conclusions this fast?" He smirked. "Don't worry. We'll let the soldiers play soldiers. I have a different thing in mind for you. I would like you to undermine my uncle."

"Your uncle?" she looked at him curiously. What was this about?

"The venerable Dengeir of Stuhn," Siddgeir scoffed with disdain. "He was the Jarl of Falkreath before me. Claims I 'usurped' him or some such. Ridiculous. He is a simpleton. But… he is an avid supporter of the rebellion. And I am getting a bit wary of this whole thing. If he were to turn my people against me, this would be the perfect time. The Legion isn't always… considerate to my people's needs. And they may become resentful while this special operation lasts."

Those were some valid concerns. The Legion was practically bullying the people here. But… what did he want her to do? She didn't really want to support the Legion in their behavior here. She really didn't want to get involved in this conflict at all, but what choice did she have now? And what would he even ask her to do? How was she supposed to 'undermine' that man?

"I'm glad you're keeping your wild guesses to yourself this time," Siddgeir smirked at her. "What I need is to turn my people against Dengeir before he manages to turn them against me. I have already taken certain steps to achieve this. You see, Dengeir was entrusted in guarding a certain… family secret. There is a fort up in the mountains. One of Dengeir's ancestors, and mine, I suppose, was buried there. Or… imprisoned there, to be more exact."

"An undead?" Aeyrin asked him uncertainly. He said 'ancestors'. What else could it be?

"A vampire," Siddgeir corrected her.

Another one? How many vampires were there in the Hold?

"In any case, Dengeir had conveniently failed in keeping the monster at bay. Someone let it loose. Unfortunate, really. Who could have done such a thing?" Siddgeir chuckled. Was he implying… did he let it loose? "The vampire made himself a little clan of underlings, but unfortunately, it's concentrating its efforts on snatching travellers and bandits. Inconvenient and not according to my plans at all."

What? 'Unfortunately'?!

What in Oblivion was wrong with this man?

"I need the vampire to become a threat to my people and I need them to know who is responsible. Luckily, just this afternoon, several citizens ventured nearer to the mountains for some unknown reason and they got snatched. Imagine that. Isn't that lucky?"

She had no words. She just stared at him incredulously. That was what he had been doing this afternoon when he told her to wait? He was luring people to get snatched by a vampire clan?! Not only that, he never even intended to let her 'plead her case'. All of this dancing around was pointless. The second Bishop got arrested, this man had a whole scheme concocted in his head and there were not going to be any alternatives. Clearly he had no trouble stepping over dead bodies to get what he wanted.

"Now, I can't launch any rescue efforts. I can't send my men there. Not when I refused to send them anywhere for weeks on end. Most of them are helping with the Legion's efforts and all these… extra missions had to be suspended to guard the city in case of a Stormcloak attack. If I made an exception this once, it may be… suspicious. You however, can rescue the poor saps of your own volition. Don't worry, these vampires leave their victims alive for quite some time. I need them traumatized, not dead," he smirked. Was he insane? This plot was insane. He really did this to innocent people? To his people? Just for his stupid politics?

"And when you do make it out of there, all you have to do is tell your precious rescues that you found evidence of Dengeir's failing. I even had some convenient letters crafted for you."

"You… you sacrificed those people?" she gaped at him incredulously. She was wrong. This felt worse than what she had originally thought he would want from her. This made her feel so… dirty. Why did he even tell her? She didn't want to know this stuff. Couldn't he have just told her that some people got kidnapped and he needed them rescued? This was… this was so despicable.

'Corrupt' was not the right word for this man. He was vicious.

"You seem distraught," he scowled at her a little. "My dear, you are rescuing people. There's nothing to be unnerved by. And you're making sure the one who was supposed to guard that monster will pay."

"You let it loose!" she gasped. How could he still claim that this Dengeir was responsible?

"Did I say that?" he chuckled, completely unconcerned by the horror in her voice. "He was supposed to ensure that it wouldn't happen. It happened. He failed."

"That's not on him. You…"

"My dear, I suggest you adjust your tone and that you remember why we are discussing this," Siddgeir interrupted her promptly, a scowl still etched on his face. It was a stark contrast from his previous mood and it was very worrisome. He was right. He held all the cards. She needed to save Bishop.

And it was still about rescuing people. She just… needed to remember that.

Gods, please, just forget everything else. Don't think about the circumstances anymore.

"Aah, ideals," Siddgeir scoffed with palpable disdain in his voice. "You know what people never say of noble men? That they are clever. I certainly prefer the latter, dear. And you should follow my example. Think. Think hard on whether you have reasons to accept my proposal."

She took another shuddering breath, this time unable to hide it from him. She felt just as meek and helpless as she had when she stepped in here. She had no choice. The deal had already been made for her anyway. Everything was already set in motion and she had no say in this. Not unless she would sacrifice something she would never be able to sacrifice.

"The execution is scheduled for the fifth of Rain's Hand," Siddgeir announced with a stony expression.

"What?!" Aeyrin gasped. He actually scheduled an execution?! And… that was so soon!

"You have plenty of time," he smirked. "You will head out tomorrow and you should be back by the evening if everything goes well. I'll be able to cancel the execution with no one the wiser."

"I'll head out tonight," she quickly snarled. She hated this. She hated this so much. But she wanted to rescue these people that were caught in this sick game just because Siddgeir suddenly had leverage over her. And she needed to save Bishop, no matter what.

"You will not," Siddgeir shook his head with a scowl. "You will play this by my rules. My steward will be making an announcement tomorrow morning, notifying my people of our missing citizens. Only then you will head out to avoid suspicion."

"But…" What if it took longer? What if there was trouble on the roads! She needed to hurry. There was a damn deadline! A literal 'deadline'.

"Enough," Siddgeir stopped her again, but he did chuckle a bit. "You really like to talk back, don't you? Be glad I am considerate enough to let you have some rest to prepare. It won't be an easy fight. The clan's pretty extensive by now."

"Gods, what's with all these vampires in Falkreath?" she shook her head incredulously, more to herself.

"'All'?" Siddgeir narrowed his eyes at her promptly.

Oh no! She couldn't talk about that. He would be mad. And he might demand more of these horrendous schemes.

"I… I heard rumors," she stammered. She was not saying another word about this.

"Rumors or not, you should know by now," Siddgeir's face turned surprisingly somber as he spoke. "You've been in Skyrim long enough. Have you not seen the forests?"

She gave him a questioning glance. What did the forests have to do with vampires?

"Beautiful but deadly," he sighed wistfully. "My Hold is cursed, they say. Ripe for all manner of monsters. Some human. Some less so."

An involuntary shiver came across her spine. She knew that all too well. And folk tales or not, it wasn't hard to believe Falkreath to be cursed at all. It seemed like nothing ever went right here beyond the shores of Lake Ilinalta. It was just… monsters. Everywhere. Even right here in this longhouse, pretending to lead these people, to care for them.

"Falkreath's teeming with death," Siddgeir continued to speak, only intensifying the ominous feeling coursing through her at his words. "We adapt or we die. This town… it adapts. But beyond its borders, anyone is fair game."

There was nothing 'fair' about any of this.

But she was starting to understand that there was no respite from monsters. Not here.

"Now, my dear, unless you want to chew your meat cold, I suggest we get rid of all this and talk details," he gestured to their still full plates on the table. "You don't have an easy task ahead of you. And you should pray that you don't disappoint."

Maybe she should pray. What else was there to rely on?

But whatever monsters she had to deal with, she would.

She would not allow this place to take him from her.