Author's Note:

We're almost there. I hope you are all curious to see how this mess turns out ;)

In the first book, we had the penultimate chapter serve as the actual plot ending with the last chapter as an epilogue. This time it's kind of similar in some ways. But with a twist :D I do hope you'll enjoy the almost finale of this plotline and that you're excited to see how the second book ends. I can't wait to share it all with you.

And I know I'm updating way too fast for this last plotline, but I just can't help it :D

Thank you so much for still reading :) Enjoy :3

Chapter CXLIX – Hold the Axe

"A human!"

A shocked gasp echoed through the chamber when she entered.

"N-not… I meant 'elf', sorry, please, help me, please, oh Divines, please tell me you're not one of them."

Aeyrin's eyes went to the man calling out to her – a middle-aged Imperial, locked in a very similar cell that she had been in – all ice and snow and bars. He looked a little blue. A little frozen. And completely naked with magic-suppressing cuffs on his hands.

It was the first person or a creature she had encountered here. She was still making her way through the fort as fast as she could, but it was a large place. Although she was already back in her sturdy equipment, she was glad that there were no more of those monsters to encounter. It was a little disturbing that they had likely all came to watch her 'spectacle', but it was only for the best. She was trying hard not to think about how they all ended up. Any horrible fate served those monsters right she just… she had a hard time seeing what that monster inside her was capable of. She was kind of glad that she didn't remember any of it actually happening – the aftermath was bad enough.

But now, at least, there was one silver lining. A human. Alive.

Aeyrin rushed towards the cell and pulled the chain on the side of it, lowering the bars. The man almost fell over from the shock and relief, but he quickly steadied himself on a nearby icy wall.

"Did you come from Falkreath? How long were you in here?" She couldn't help but ask. She needed to know. The uncertainty was killing her. Was Bishop still alive?

"I don't know… I'm sorry… time is… I can't tell. They kept drinking and… and… then I came to and then they drank again. I don't know how long it has been," the man shivered as he spoke. He needed clothes and shoes.

"I… alright," Aeyrin had a hard time hiding her disappointment, but it wasn't the man's fault. "I saw your things. I think. Everyone's things. I'll… I guess I'll take you there." It was a detour that she didn't want, but this man needed it.

"Wait. The others, I think they're in the next chamber. There… there were seven of us," he pointed towards the hallway leading further.

"Was there an Altmer man too?" she scowled? She remembered that vampire insinuating that he was one of the people from Falkreath.

"Y-yes. Areldur. I haven't seen many of them again, but there were seven. I… I don't know how many…" he stammered. This must have been so traumatizing. She needed to get everyone out of here. Those that she could, at least.

"Can you walk?" she asked and the man nodded, albeit a little uncertainly. She didn't waste any more time then.

She rushed into the next chamber. There were many more cells in there, again in the same manner. She didn't even look inside, she didn't even pay attention to the shocked gasps echoing from some of them. She quickly rushed through the room and pulled all the chains that she spotted.

When she was done, and all the cells were opened, she finally looked around.

Two people stood there, in shock, in the same state that the Imperial was in. A Redguard woman and another Imperial man. Aeyrin looked to the other cells promptly. One Bosmer man was lying on the flimsy blanket. He looked dead, but then, she noticed the rise of his chest. He was still alive.

The rest of them – two more people, another Imperial and another Redguard, were both dead. She rushed into their cells and checked for signs of life, but they were gone. Either from the cold or from the blood loss.

There were no Nords among them. That was a little strange. Most of the population of Falkreath were Nords too. That… was really strange.

But she couldn't concern herself about this too much. She rushed back towards the Bosmer and tried to heal the vampire bites all over his neck. She knew she couldn't heal those properly and she couldn't make up for the blood loss, but every little bit helped. In the meantime, the others started to gather in the middle of the room while the first Imperial began to whisper something to them.

Aeyrin gathered the naked elf into her arms. She had to carry him. There was no other way. And when she collected him properly, she returned to the rest.

"I… I think I know you," the Redguard woman peered at her when she returned. "Are you the Dragonborn?"

She should have expected at least someone to recognize her. She just hoped that they wouldn't encounter anything else and nobody would question her inability to Shout.

"Y-yes," she nodded slowly. "That's not important. We need to warm you all up and get out of here. I passed by a place where they had all of my things and other clothes and stuff."

"Were you imprisoned by them too?" the second Imperial gaped at her, as if he didn't hear her now at all. "How did you get out? Did you Shout those monsters into pieces?" he gave her a fierce, intense stare. He wanted to hear her affirm that.

"That's not important," she mumbled. "I have healing potions. Just… hang on a second, those will help." She moved towards the first Imperial and he instinctively outstretched his arms to take the small Bosmer from her so that she could grab the potions.

"Don't worry," she gave them all a weak smile. "We'll be out of here soon."

…

"It's all here," the Redguard woman gasped when they finally reached the chamber with all the items. All of them broke into a run at that point. They had all been shivering the entire time. Aeyrin gave them her cloak, her blanket and leather boots to the elf to warm him up – the only one who could fit them – and anything she could find in her pack, but it wasn't enough.

But now they could take their things back once more.

They laid the Bosmer down on one of the cupboards and began to dress and gather their things hurriedly.

"We didn't encounter any more of those bloodsuckers," one of the Imperials noted with a hint of wonder in his voice. "Not even corpses. Where are they all?"

"I think they're all dead," Aeyrin answered. She hoped so at least.

She began to dress the elf in the clothes they pointed out to her, but he was still passed out. She had no idea what to do about that. It was frost and blood-loss. She couldn't do anything about this.

"You killed them all?" the other Imperial gaped at her, again with an impressed look. "What did you do? Are… are they back there?" he peered into the hallway leading back towards the pit curiously – a clear direction where she had come from. He looked like he wanted to see.

"Don't. It's… not pretty," she gritted her teeth. She didn't even want to think about the carnage in there further in. "We can't waste time anyway, we need to get you back to Falkreath."

"How did you get into this mess with us?" The Redguard looked at her in concern.

"I… I went looking for you," she sighed. That was all she could say. "The steward announced that you disappeared and I asked about details…" Lie. "Where you were last seen and such. And I found this place. Why… why did you come here?" She wasn't sure if she even wanted to hear the answer. She knew too much.

"Dengeir," one of the Imperials snarled hatefully and Aeyrin couldn't help but flinch at the name. It wasn't him. "We all received a letter from him, saying he wanted to start working with the Empire. We're… builders, you see, and he's a hunter," he pointed to the elf, then at the Redguard woman. "She's a merchant and there was another one among the dead. We were apparently 'selected' by him to help the Empire's efforts to fix up this fort as their new base. He asked us to come here and offer our help in his name for some… sizable sums."

It was all Siddgeir.

"We thought he picked us… well, you know, us," the Redguard gave her a meaningful look. "Because it would make him seem like he cooperated with… with foreigners. We thought… well… we need to be united now with the rebellion being active at our border. We thought he really wanted to help. We thought he was upset about Ulfric threatening us and he switched sides."

"And the money was good," the Imperial scoffed.

"I… I found some… letters here," Aeyrin started to explain as a bitter taste filled her mouth with each word. "One said… that the 'tribute' will arrive tomorrow. It was signed by Dengeir. The other was just… a thank you for an alliance and cooperation." Those were the letters Siddgeir gave her. The letters he constructed to ensure Dengeir's culpability.

"That fucking bastard," the Redguard spat. "We'll make sure that he gets the axe for this."

Gods. An innocent man dead because of this. Because of her.

No. No. She saved innocent people. This was all Siddgeir's doing.

And the talk of the 'axe' only made her remember why she was doing this. They needed to hurry already. She needed to save Bishop too. None of these people were able to tell her how long they had been here. She was beyond terrified.

"Come, get what you can and let's go. We need to hurry," she ushered them.

They were much more calm now with her there and they didn't really rush, but she needed to make them.

Unlike them, her situation still wasn't safe.

She could still lose everything.

…

The closer Falkreath was in her sights, the more her stomach twisted in knots.

Whatever day it was, it was morning. That knowledge didn't really help her though. She kept rushing forward, only reminded of the people she was leading back when they called out to her. They couldn't go as fast as she could, not even with the potions in their systems. Maybe she wouldn't be able to rush like this under normal circumstances either. But she couldn't leave them to fend for themselves, not even on the road and out of the forests.

The second she came into view of the first guards by the city gates, she called out to them. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed to know. Maybe it was naïve to cling to hope that it wasn't too late. She could have been there for days for all she knew.

One of the guards rushed towards her with eyes wide and shock on her face.

"By the Eight, you… you found them!" she gasped, clearly unaware of the real perpetrator of this mess.

Aeyrin didn't care to explain then though. She nudged the elf in her arms until the guard outstretched her hands and took him from her. Aeyrin must have looked quite haggard herself, based on the sympathy looks the guard was giving her, but that didn't matter now.

"What day is it?" she snapped at the woman. This was killing her. Every single second was killing her.

"Uhm… it's Morndas. Are you alright? We need to call the priest and…"

"Date!" she quickly interrupted her. She didn't have it in her to wonder what day was what date. She didn't remember right then. Her mind was completely blank, only filled with one thing over and over. Is it too late? Is it too late?

"It's… the fifth. You need to…" the guard started to stammer, caught-off guard by Aeyrin's brashness.

The fifth! It was morning. Still morning. They wouldn't execute him right away, right? She could be on time. He could still be alive.

"Go home to your families," she only called out to the people she had led here, but she was already on her way into the city. "I'll handle the rest!" They were going to tell everyone what happened anyway. Dengeir was done for. And as sick as that was making her, she couldn't bring herself to actually dwell on it at that moment. The only thing that mattered was Bishop.

She ran all the way. She didn't stop for a single second. She needed to get to the longhouse right now.

When she reached the building, the guards only scowled at her and one of them raised his hand to stop her.

"The Jarl is not in audience yet. Come back la-" The rest of his sentence was only a grunt as she pushed the man away and barged into the longhouse.

"No time!" she yelled in the process, but the guards didn't take kindly to her antics. She could hear them rushing behind her as she flew across the throne room and into the Jarl's chambers without any prompting.

She almost threw the door off its hinges as she stormed in. Jarl Siddgeir was sitting by that same table she had left him at after their dinner. This time he was eating breakfast with his Altmer steward and they both stopped and stared at her in shock.

Her hands were yanked behind her back in a moment and she let out a shocked yelp. The guards were on her quickly, trying to subdue her.

"You are so dramatic. I love it," Siddgeir only laughed when he roused from the shock. "It's alright, gentlemen. Let her go."

"Yes, sir," the guard holding her grumbled and her hands were released promptly. She only heard their footsteps retreating while Jarl Siddgeir smirked at her.

"Nenya, dear, excuse us, please," he nodded at his steward and the woman rose from her seat with a subtle bow. Aeyrin walked into the room, still on edge and worried. She hoped that Siddgeir wouldn't grin at her like this if Bishop was dead, but who knew with this monster? He didn't care about people's suffering.

The second the door closed behind the steward, Aeyrin snarled at the man.

"If you killed him, I…"

"Alright, that's enough of that," Siddgeir interrupted her again. It was starting to piss her off. "He's still alive. There. That's out of the way."

A horrible pressing weight fell from her chest, as if she had been holding some giant metal ball pressed to it. She wasn't too late. She could scarcely believe it. It all looked so hopeless. But Bishop was alive.

"Now, my dear, you did take your sweet time. I was about to announce the surprise execution right after breakfast. My people do love a little public spectacle to liven up their days. Impressive timing though," he chuckled.

Gods, she didn't even want to think about how close this was. That was just a gut-wrenching thought.

Don't think about it. You don't need to think about it. It's fine. He's fine. Everything's fine.

"Let's talk, shall we?" Siddgeir gestured to the empty chair by his table. It… actually sounded like a good idea. She wanted Bishop out now but… she kind of needed to sit down. She let her pack slump down onto the ground and she walked over, sitting on the chair heavily, armor and all. "My, you look like you've been through Oblivion and back. So, tell me. What happened?"

He had no idea. It was worse than Oblivion. But he was the last person she wanted to confide in. This was all his fault and she had to bite her tongue not to start yelling at him. Not now. Not when Bishop was still in that prison.

"Was it too much?" Siddgeir asked, almost mockingly.

"Yes," she gritted her teeth. He knew how dangerous it was. He knew the whole time when he sent the people there. He knew that he wouldn't even consider her 'pleading her case'. It was all for show so that he could do this.

"Well, it's a good thing you can Shout, isn't it? You made it out, just in the nick of time. Are you the only one?" he narrowed his eyes at her.

"No. I… brought four other people. One of them… one of them was passed out. I'm sure they got him to the healer," she sighed. She left the victims there with the guards. She could only hope that they would take care of them and make sure everyone survived this.

"The letters?" Siddgeir insisted.

"I told them. I showed them the letters too. And… they told me why they went to that fort," she couldn't help it. She tossed him a hateful glare. But he didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

"Good, so Dengeir is implicated," Siddgeir nodded. His plan worked. And he obviously didn't care about the cost.

"You got what you wanted. Now give me the pardon and let Bishop go," Aeyrin snarled. She didn't want to talk to him anymore. She just… she just wanted to take Bishop and leave Falkreath for good. None of this worked out the way she had imagined. There were only new painful memories to join the old.

"Not so fast," he scowled at her. Oh. That didn't sound good. What could he possibly want now?! "This is not what we agreed on. You arrived almost too late and you didn't save all my citizens. Shame, really."

"What?! You can't do that! You will let him out or I'll tell everyone what you did!" she raised her voice. This was unbelievable. He couldn't do this! She wouldn't let him do this!

"Oh? And who's going to believe you after all this? After you have already accused my uncle. No, dear. Remember, I can have you tossed into that prison and go ahead with the execution right now, if it comes to that. But don't fret. You'll get your pardon and your man. I just… require a certain… compensation. For the losses. You understand, don't you?" he smirked.

Gods, how she hated him. She didn't remember hating anyone this much, not even monsters like Thorn or Ri'zhassa. Granted, maybe the current situation was warping her opinions, but this man was just as bad as the rest of them. She wanted nothing more than to bash his head in with her mace just then.

Breathe.

Even if she told everyone what he had done, that wouldn't save Bishop. Not if the word got out. As much as she hated it, she still needed to play by this asshole's rules.

"What?" she gritted her teeth again, the overwhelming anger palpable in her voice.

"Well, I'm worried now," he gave her a mock pout. "Four people, that's really not a lot. The word might not spread effectively before Dengeir tries to pull something. Arresting him now without the word spreading could backfire as well. I think we should ensure that it does, don't you? Otherwise… this would have all been in vain."

'In vain'? Saving people from vampires was nothing without political outcomes? She should expect this from him by now, but his words still kept shocking her, angering her.

"What do you want me to do, go tell more people?" she scoffed at him. Was she supposed to run around town like a lunatic and tell everyone about the horrible Dengeir?

"Now you're getting it!" he clapped excitedly. "I'm thinking a public announcement, where you recount all the horrors you and the victims saw and endured. All about the letters. All about who sent the victims there. All that you found."

What? Those things she had already a hard time telling the victims, she was now supposed to announce publicly? To drag that man down like this?

"And you did notice, didn't you?" Siddgeir's smile turned even more devious than she thought possible. "All of them – elves, Imperials, Redguards. These poor victims were clearly racially targeted. As a filthy Stormcloak's ruse."

"What?! You're the one that targeted them!" she fumed. Gods, she just wanted to wring his neck.

"And you're the one who's going to tell them that Dengeir did," he laughed. He looked so proud of himself. So smug. "If you don't like that idea, I would still like to reassure the public somehow with an announcement. I would make one. I don't know, something about bandits perhaps?" He smirked at her maliciously.

Asshole. Such an asshole. She was kind of starting to hope that Ulfric would take Falkreath and depose this sorry excuse for a man.

"I'm… not really a… public speech kind of... person…" she gritted her teeth. She had no idea how to get him to forget this stupidity.

"That's alright, I'll tell you exactly what you need to say. Don't worry your pretty little head over it."

Ugh, that smile. Like he was talking to his puppet. He kind of was now and it was just more and more infuriating.

For Bishop. You need to do this for Bishop.

But he just wanted to announce this. Why her? Just to torment her further?

"Can't you do this announcement yourself? You're the Jarl! I… I'll stand there and nod or something," she looked at him desperately.

"No, no. They need to hear this from you. And I don't want to be seen too active in this issue, you know. Political suspicions and all that. This is what we'll do. Besides, I'm pretty sure some of my friends would just love to hear you make a speech like that," he smirked again.

What? What did that mean? What 'friends'?

"Wha-…"

"No more," he raised his hand, stopping her again with a scowl. "Unless you want to go in a different direction, quite a fatal one for your bandit, you'll stop talking back and we'll go over your speech now. Understood?"

She clenched her fists tightly and nodded.

What was there left to do?

This was just a bitter cherry on top. Nothing worse than what she had already participated in.

Whatever it took.

…

"My dear citizens, it has been a harrowing couple of days with our fellow lambs lost."

Siddgeir's voice rang through the town as he stood by the tavern, addressing all the citizens that his steward had brought. When they arrested Dengeir before, at first, Aeyrin was dismayed at how this all led to this inevitable end, but now, she was kind of glad for it. She was glad that the man wasn't here to hear this – to hear her say all these lies about him.

Siddgeir was going to take him down no matter what. She was just a tool. And as much as it infuriated her to be used, it was a more comfortable thought than ascribing herself any action or decision-making in this mess. It wasn't her mess. She had to remind herself of it. And she had to try to shake the images of dismembered vampires and pools of blood out of her head. And the taste out of her mouth.

Everything would be better once she saw Bishop.

Siddgeir gave her the instructions. He wanted her to stay exactly as she was – in her armor, with mace dripping with blood, her face and hair still showing remnants of the carnage and persistent bite marks on her neck. They needed to see that this was no fabrication.

Whatever. That was the last thing she cared about.

The speech… it was much more daunting.

He didn't give her anything to read, he didn't tell her what to say word for word, except for one part. He wanted it all to sound natural. He wanted her to be angry as she threw accusations.

Oh she was angry.

She still had the urge to expose him instead, even if nobody believed her.

But she couldn't risk Bishop.

"I am… pleased to say that many of them returned. For the families of those who have not… I mourn your loss as well," Siddgeir lowered his head somberly as he continued. Most people stared at her standing next to him though. And the state she was in.

"I… I have been told some… disturbing things about what has transpired." He sounded so sincere. So troubled. It was disgusting. "My friend, if you would?" he nodded at her.

Great. Time to put on the show.

She fought the urge to groan as she looked at the crowd. He wanted anger and it was not hard to conjure when she looked at him. She just needed to say what she was supposed to say and be done with it.

Hopefully that would be the end of it. The speech made her… nervous. Saying the things he told her too felt… dangerous. Something she had been trying to avoid. And this publicly.

But Bishop was worth it.

"I… I have tracked your missing citizens down to a fort… filled with vampires," she started to speak, clenching her fists to keep them from trembling from both stress and anger. "They… they were being held there for the monsters' amusement and sustenance. And… what I found in the fort…"

"It was Dengeir!" Suddenly a voice echoed from the crowd. She recognized it as the one of the Redguard she had rescued and soon the woman made her way to the front of the crowd. Aeyrin was very relieved for the unexpected backup. The woman was certainly spritely. Hopefully she stopped by the temple and not just by the apothecary. "He lured us there! He pretended like he wanted us to help restore the fort for the Empire, that he wanted to support us in this cause, but it was a lie! He sent us to the monsters' den!" she yelled, eliciting gasps from all over the crowd.

"I found letters from him in the fort, speaking of your fellow citizens as… 'tributes'," Aeyrin sighed somberly. She looked briefly at Siddgeir who only gave her an expectant nod. Right. This part. She needed to get angry for this and it was very easy after his urging. "You… you may have noticed. None of the citizens who were taken were Nords! He works for… the enemy while sacrificing those that he thinks unwelcome."

The crowd started to talk loudly, now no longer murmuring. Those were clear words of outrage.

"He wanted to placate those monsters, get them on his side while he got rid of those he wanted in the process!" she snarled. That was almost true for someone else she knew. She didn't even have to look at Siddgeir to know he was nodding in encouragement again.

"I am sorry that I couldn't stop this soon enough to save all of them." At least this part was true. "But I hope that your city will be safer now with this knowledge and without… without such monsters." Her voice trembled a little. This wasn't true at all. The worst monster of them was just standing by her side.

And another one was… her.

The crowd cheered in response. That was good. That was enough, right?

Please, don't remember the last part.

He did though. Of course he did. This was for his 'friends'. It didn't mean anything, right? It was not like she was saying anything… binding. It just… felt so wrong. It felt so wrong to be forced into this as Siddgeir stepped towards her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. They all saw a caring leader, trying to soothe her. But it was just a cruel reminder of what he wanted her to say.

"Long live the Empire."

It was the kind of thing that only soldiers and Jarls under political pressure ever said. She hated the Stormcloaks. There was no question about it. But she hated the Legion too. This may have not been a binding admission of allegiance, but it felt heartbreaking nonetheless.

The crowd erupted into even louder cheers and some of them started to yell over each other, mostly about removing Dengeir from society.

"My dears, my uncle had been arrested as soon as I found out," Siddgeir smiled at them sympathetically, drowning out the shouts, but they wouldn't stop.

"He needs to die!"

"He killed our people! He needs to pay!

"Well… the evidence is overwhelming," Siddgeir gave them another understanding nod. Gods, he looked like such a caring and concerned leader. Aeyrin wanted to throw up again.

"It was him," the Redguard woman snarled hatefully.

"Hmm… perhaps an execution is in order…" the Jarl pondered. He looked concerned, but Aeyrin knew how giddy he was that the crowd called for Dengeir's head. "I loathe to do this to my flesh and blood, but… we cannot harbor such snakes. We need to strive to keep our Hold safe."

"Get the axe!"

Someone shouted and then, it was like sea waves – one after another, all in unison.

"Get the axe! Get the axe! Get the axe!"

Aeyrin had to close her eyes to escape the scene at least for a while. She wished that she could cover her ears. It was especially jarring, not just to hear the crowd call for the death of an innocent man, but to hear Siddgeir speak over them again.

"My dear Nenya will announce the date of Dengeir's execution to you soon."

They all cheered again, eager for the man's life to end. It was all sickening. Yet were she in their place, so oblivious, she would want nothing else. She kind of wished that Siddgeir gave her the courtesy of leaving her in the dark too. But no. He enjoyed doing this to her too much – knowing he had all the power to make her do whatever she loathed.

Her eyes opened only when she felt the man's hand on her shoulder again.

"Well, looks like there will be an execution after all," the Jarl chuckled at her quietly.

"Let Bishop go," she growled. She didn't care about anything else anymore. She just wanted this to end.

"Hmm-hmm. You came through. I guess we'll hold off on the axe for him," he smirked. His other hand brushed hers and it took her a while before she noticed the rolled-up parchment he was pressing to her palm. "Here. As agreed."

She realized that the subtle motion was to prevent the crowd from seeing any sort of exchange here. Though some of them must have known why she left, right after they saw her companion get arrested. They must have known she was doing Siddgeir a favor for his release. They didn't know how orchestrated this was though. And they didn't know who Bishop was. That was important.

"I had him sent to the temple already so that he can be patched up. I'm sure the priest is done with him by now. Go, dear," Siddgeir nodded at her and she almost ran off in an instant. Before she realized what he had just said.

"'Patched up'? After what?" her eyes widened at him. Bishop was in prison! He was safe. What in the Void?!

"Ah yes, not to worry. My men just aren't very fond of bandits around here. I'm sure you understand though," he chuckled.

That scum! He wouldn't even make his 'men' leave Bishop alone.

Uggh she wanted to punch him so bad!

But she wanted to see Bishop more.

She broke into a run, trying to get as far from that horrible man as possible. She really hoped that this was the last time she saw that smug face.

She really couldn't wait to see quite another smug face instead.

…

Aeyrin's breath hitched in her throat when she saw him lying on the bed in the temple of Arkay.

It wasn't even that bad – there were a lot of welts and bruises all over his body, but she knew that he was already healed. The old Altmer priest let her in alone to pick up Bishop, provided she wouldn't be disruptive. The Bosmer vampire victim was there too after all, still passed out on the other bed. So since the healing was done, she knew that Bishop had been in a much worse state. She kept telling herself he was just in jail, as unpleasant as it was, and that he was safe there at least. But there was no safe place in Falkreath Hold.

It appeared they had to learn this lesson over and over again.

He had his eyes closed. The priest said that he was exhausted and a little disoriented. She wasn't sure what he had been told.

But at least he was alive.

She sat down on the side of his bed slowly, careful not to startle him too much, even though she wanted nothing more than to outright jump on him and wrap herself around him in relief. Aside from the bruises, he was just like that night – still only in his trousers, with nothing but his dragon-head ring on his hand. She could almost pretend like none of this had happened. Just… pretend like that day went exactly as it should have with them spending another memorable night together and woke up to more adventures.

She moved her hand to his cheek and brushed against it gently. His eyes fluttered open almost instantly at the touch.

"Princess?" His voice was hoarse and groggy and it seemed like he had no idea where he was the way his eyes darted around. But they didn't leave her face for long.

He raised his hand with a hiss of pain and placed it on hers on his cheek.

"What… where… am I dead?" he mumbled, still trying hard to make sense of the situation.

Aeyrin did chuckle a little, but it was more painful to hear than anything else. It must have been awful, not knowing. Did they even tell him that she made a deal with Siddgeir? She was sure that they kept him thinking he would be executed the entire time.

And he almost was.

Don't think about that.

"Shh, you're in the temple. It's alright," she stroked her hand on his cheek. He was alright. That was the only thing that mattered.

"No… execution?" his brows creased at her worriedly. Maybe he was just brought here for healing. Everything went to shit after the guards' treatment. He couldn't tell time well – he was passed out for most of it. He could definitely not gather any strength to escape in any way, even if there was the opportunity.

"No. You're safe," she gave him a warm and comforting smile. A relieved one too. It kind of filled him with dread. Not as much as the blood on her face that he had a hard time seeing first with his sight out of focus, but now it was clear.

Were those bite-marks on her neck?!

"What… what happened?" he scowled at her in concern. "What did you have to do?" His release wouldn't be free. Not a chance. He wasn't sure if the whole town knew who he was, but even Siddgeir knowing was enough to make it really bad.

"I… it doesn't matter," she shook her head and her voice audibly cracked. When he only frowned more though, she looked like she couldn't take it anymore. He could see her fighting her tears, but instead of breaking down, she quickly lowered herself onto him, careful not to aggravate his wounds, and she snuggled to him on the bed for comfort. "I'll… tell you later. It just… it doesn't matter," she sniffled. "You're alright."

This did not fill him with much confidence. Fuck. He didn't know what she had to go through. The blood was frightening enough. He recognized the blood on her neck under the vampiric bite marks – the slightly more orange tinge. That was hers. The blood on her face, however, wasn't. It even looked a bit darker than any regular blood would be.

"I'm so sorry, love." He wasn't sure what else to say. This was all because of that stupid bounty.

"No," she shook her head against his shoulder vehemently. "It's not your fault. None of it was." It was Siddgeir. It was all him. If she never had to see him or hear about him again, it would be too soon. She just… wanted to take Bishop and leave. Anywhere but here.

"Bish, can we just… get out of this place, please?" she looked at him with damp eyes and a pleading expression.

He couldn't agree more with that sentiment. And she didn't waste a single second when he nodded. She sat up on the bed, only reluctantly letting go of him altogether as she stood up. It took him a little bit more effort, but he followed suit with a bit of her help. He felt like he had been crushed by boulders. But none of it mattered. They were together again and ready to leave this place behind at last.

He turned towards the door promptly and he was only stopped by the shocked gasp that escaped Aeyrin's throat then.

Ugh. That thing. He almost forgot about it in all that dizziness and confusion. He remembered what they did to him – some fucking brand or something. It definitely burned like what he would imagine one to burn like. It didn't anymore though. The priest healed it – Bishop had a vague memory of that. He knew that burns wouldn't be healed properly after a few days though. It would be there forever now, fading softly, but always there.

He didn't even know what the fuck it was.

"Ah, that," he let out a scoff, to signal his disinterest in this shit. As if this thing even mattered with everything that happened. "What is it anyway? I couldn't see it, obviously," he smirked.

"It… uhm…" Aeyrin was reluctant to tell him. It was quite heartbreaking to see. This pardon, which she had earned after all those horrible things, it was a step to put the past behind them. To free him of the bounties and all that horrible stuff back then. But this? Now to have a reminder like that forever?

"Just tell me, sweetness, it's fine," he turned around to face her with a reassuring smile. He didn't care. He really didn't. Another scar. He had many, all from bad memories.

"It… they're… words. 'Bandit scum'." She looked at him somberly, as if she was breaking some horrible news to him.

She had no idea how little this meant. Nothing about this was 'horrible'. What was horrible was that this whole mess made her suffer whatever she had to suffer.

But… he thought that he would never see her again.

Nothing could ruin that today.

Much to Aeyrin's surprise, Bishop let out a subtle laugh.

"Yeah… I expected something like that." Those assholes did say that it was to 'remind bandits of their place' or some shit like that. It was kind of… ironic. Or maybe poetic, when he thought about it. "You know what? It's pretty fitting, actually."

"What?" Aeyrin gave him an incredulous look.

"Yeah. It… was me. Part of me. And now it's behind me. Heh. Get it?" He pointed to his back with as big of a grin as he was capable of at that moment. And it was even better when he actually noticed her lips quirking up, no matter how much she tried to resist it.

She placed her hand over her mouth as a snort escaped her lips and she shook her head at him. Her eyes were still brimming with tears, but that smile was all he wanted to see the entire time in that cell.

"Well… true as that might be," she chuckled a bit in between sniffling to stave off the tears. "Nobody knows what happened. So… you might want to…" she quickly slumped her pack from her shoulder and rummaged around before she found her cloak. It would probably barely reach his shins, but it was enough for now.

"Fine," he smirked as he grabbed the cloak from her. He pinned it around his neck, fidgeting with it a bit to cover his shoulders, but he was done soon. He just gave her a determined nod. He still had no idea what happened and it was time to finally begin closing this chapter for once and for all.

"Come. Let's get the fuck out of here."