"Bish, wake up."
Aeyrin's voice rang in his ears, her breath tickling his face.
He was trying to get his bearings, but it was far from easy. He was confused in the first place to hear her voice and he still had an unpleasant pit in his stomach from dreams that were all too vivid.
"Bish, you're crushing me," her voice brought him to reality a little more again.
Only now he realized how tightly he was hugging her, pressing her to himself with a firm grip. The only reason she could likely even breathe and not be suffocated by his embrace was because her face was right there in front of his instead of buried in his chest as usual.
It took a little longer than it should for him to realize himself and ease the death-grip he had on her. She let out a relieved sigh when he did, but she did snuggle into his arms much more comfortably after that.
Bishop finally opened his eyes. He wasn't sure why he felt the uncontrollable urge to check on her, to see she was really there, dozing off peacefully in his embrace. That dream freaked him out. He kind of wished he didn't remember, just like in Dawnstar before that curse was broken.
Why was he doing this again? Why was he willingly going back to those people that he wanted to leave behind his entire life? Nothing good could ever come from this. Aeyrin would be in danger, he would be in danger, and for what? For people he despised? He wasn't… he wasn't 'one of them'. He never was.
Fuck, he hated this. Why did he have the feeling that if he just… let go, it would keep bothering him?
This was gonna be bad.
He just had to keep Aeyrin away from this imminent shitstorm, no matter what.
Even if he couldn't help but be pulled in, he wouldn't let her be hurt by it.
But convincing her to stay away from his family bullshit would be the hardest part.
…
"You didn't sleep well? You look out of it."
Aeyrin leaned down to plant a brief kiss on his cheek before she placed the two tankards in her hands onto their table and sat herself opposite him. The common room of the inn was bustling in the morning and the servers running around were taking too long to get to everyone, so she opted to get their drinks at the bar.
"Hmm," Bishop only grumbled under his breath. He was still a bit morose – this was supposed to be a time to enjoy the lack of enemies and paranoia. That didn't really work with their current plans though. They were about to head out to find Kari's cult today. "Guess it's the heat," he shrugged.
Aeyrin chuckled at him a bit. True, it was a little warmer here, but nobody but a Nord would call this 'heat'.
Bishop still seemed lost in thoughts though, despite him ascribing it to the temperature. And after Aeyrin took a few sips of her wine, she couldn't help but try to get his attention. She always got a little antsy when he seemed too contemplative and she had no idea why.
"So, ready to see Kari again?" She prodded. She was curious about how their interaction would go this time. Last time was certainly… antagonistic. She still couldn't get it out of her mind – how angry and erratic he got. She understood that, of course, more than anyone, but he was usually the one to keep himself more composed.
"Hmm?" Bishop didn't seem like he heard the question for a while, but then his confusion turned into a deep scowl. "You know what, we should probably head to Chorrol outright. It might be best to check on shit there first."
What? That wasn't the plan.
"But Kari's order… I mean… cult, is on the way," Aeyrin raised her brow at him. It was precisely on the way. So convenient. There was not even a detour longer than ten minutes from the Orange Road.
"Yeah, but I don't even know if they're still in there. It's been eleven years. And maybe Kari didn't even come back yet. We came here pretty fucking fast, you know? She's probably not even traveling through the border passes. I mean… she's probably wanted all over Cyrodiil, I'm guessing," he started to come up with excuses that he himself wasn't even sure he wanted to believe. Fuck, he hated this. He wanted to deal with this shit, so that he could leave it all behind, but… he did let that fucking dream freak him out about this again.
Aeyrin only gave him a sympathetic smile in turn. She knew he still wanted to go there. She knew he was just getting nervous. It was understandable. She was nervous about dealing with his family too. But it needed to be done. They would come back from here, back to Skyrim, with no more worries and no more ghosts.
Bishop let out a resigned sigh when he noticed her expression.
Yeah. Alright. This was their plan. It was on the way. Kari was likely back already – she probably didn't stop to admire Bruma like they did. Fuck. He kinda wanted to tell Aeyrin to wait for him somewhere while he talked to Kari, but there was no point in that when Kari had already seen them together. He wasn't even sure what he was worried about with his family knowing he was with Aeyrin.
They were just… weird, when it came to anyone else's fortune. They got petty and vindictive – they were living the way they were and nobody deserved to get out. It was the same shit with Jack.
But that was eleven years ago. And that was when Torban was around.
Maybe he could give Kari the benefit of the doubt. Even though she fucking almost got him killed!
Fuck. Calm down.
He couldn't help it. His family just made him… mad. He kind of hoped that Kari would be unreasonable and brash, as always, and he wouldn't feel bad for leaving her to her shit this time.
But unfortunately, he would have to talk to her first.
"Fuck," he grumbled under his breath, annoyed at even having to think about this shit. "The food better be good." He wanted something to take his mind off things.
"It was yesterday," Aeyrin smiled at him wryly.
Yeah. It was. Yesterday the euphoria of being here and enjoying themselves in Bruma's most luxurious inn felt so much better.
If only it lasted longer.
…
After breakfast, Bishop and Aeyrin left the comforts of the inn and headed through the city once more.
It was just as picturesque as ever that morning, but oddly empty. The two of them took their time at the inn, not only because they had no other choice with how busy the cooks were, but they still wanted to enjoy the place as much as they could while their funds allowed them to. Cyrodiil was quite a bit more expensive than Skyrim in general after all and they would eventually need to do some adventuring again to keep enjoying the luxuries.
The lack of citizens roaming around was strange at that hour, but the reason for it became clear soon enough.
There was a large crowd gathered by the grand wooden cathedral to Kynareth.
Curiosity got the better of them and Aeyrin and Bishop changed directions – heading towards the chapel instead of the front gates. The crowd was hollering something, quite angrily, but they couldn't tell what over so many voices.
Only when they were close enough, they saw what the commotion was about. There were numerous guards clad in the signature Bruma chainmail – with yellow livery portraying a hawk with its wings spread wide. Several of them were holding long weapons – spears and halberds – against the crowd, holding them at bay. Not many people actually tried to approach outright, but there were a few clearly aggressive ones. And behind the barricade of the guards, there was a woman, on her knees with her head on a stump and a menacing-looking headsman holding an axe above her head. And there were two Altmer in black and gold robes standing nearby, watching the scene. Thalmor.
"Imperials and their executions," Bishop snorted. Always with the public executions. It begged the question whether the banishments so popular in the north weren't preferable. At least people could still have a chance to live, even if they had to abandon all they knew. This was worse. And it was quite an uncomfortable sight, especially after the events in Falkreath. That was almost him. So fucking close.
And he knew that this sight wasn't exactly pleasant for Aeyrin either. Not just because of Falkreath. Her experiences at Helgen still must have haunted her at least a little. He didn't even want to imagine getting that close to getting the axe.
They both stayed in the back, barely able to see the spectacle. Not that they could even get through the riled up crowd, or even wanted to. The best thing was to just leave and ignore this altogether, but Aeyrin couldn't help but wonder at least a little. It was a morbid sort of curiosity. After everything that happened recently, she couldn't help the scenarios running through her head – what unjust reason was there for this? What scheme of some power-hungry Count this might be, just like with Siddgeir?
She tapped the shoulder of the person closest to them before Bishop could nudge her to move away. The Dunmer man she had alerted looked over his shoulder, then down at her rather impatiently.
"What's going on?" She asked. She couldn't help but sate her curiosity.
"The woman apparently harbored dissidents," the Dunmer shrugged at her. He looked kind of… bored with the whole thing.
"'Dissidents'?" Aeyrin wasn't really asking a question. She just repeated the word as it resonated in her head.
"Yeah, still with that Talos of theirs," the man only scoffed before he turned back to the scene. He wasn't interested in talking anymore.
This time, Bishop did nudge Aeyrin to move away. It was a bad idea to stay, but she didn't move an inch. She stared at the scene, peering through the crowd, leaning her head every which way to see, with her eyes wide in worry. He knew what she was thinking. Harboring Talos worshippers was exactly what Therien was doing, in a way. It was what she was doing too.
"Let her go, you vultures!" A voice from the crowd yelled out, louder than the rest. But of course, it was moot. The guards only continued to keep the crowd at bay while the two Thalmor agents watched the people impassively.
"In front of Talos's sanctuary?! You're sick!" Another voice drowned out the rest.
This time, the Thalmor shared a meaningful look and one of them took out a small notepad, scribbling on it wildly.
What? Did they just take a note of that man calling out? And what did he even mean 'in front of Talos's sanctuary'? What sanctuary?
"Quiet down, citizens!" One of the guards, one not currently busy with subduing the crowd, bellowed across the area. "In front of the house of Kynareth, beneath the gaze of her watchful hawk," the man pointed at the grand church next to him – up to the wooden carving of Bruma's hawk depicted right above the large entrance doors. "We hereby condemn this woman, Freiga Hargstad, to death. For defiance of allied orders and for harboring dangerous dissidents."
The crowd got even louder, shouting back at the guards. But nobody spoke an audible word of Talos anymore. At least Aeyrin couldn't hear any. She knew there used to be a temple of Talos in one of the cities before the Great War. It made sense that it would have been Bruma – at least she gathered as much from the exchanges now. Ever since she knew this place, she knew the chapel of Kynareth here. But anyone even a little older than her would know what it was before. During her pilgrimage, she never even considered looking for remnants of Talos worship in Cyrodiil – she went straight to Skyrim. Maybe she should have been more meticulous here. She could have discovered secrets she never would have imagined.
Then again, she had no regrets about coming to Skyrim instead.
But right now, she certainly had many regrets about quite another thing. She couldn't help but stare at the scene and imagine someone else in the woman's stead.
What had she gotten her old mentor into? And for what? The Thalmor were so brutal, so uncompromising. Suddenly, seeing this, the lofty goals about religious freedom didn't matter. All that she could think about was what kind of danger she put herself and people she cared about the most into.
"Princess, let's go. We don't have to see this," Bishop's whisper in her ear almost startled her as he snaked his arm around her waist, nudging her away once more.
But she couldn't move. She felt like her legs were made of lead, grounding her helplessly.
"No one escapes the gaze of the watchful hawk, our vigil beneath the border!" The guard continued to call out, despite the riled up crowd. "It will always stand to keep petty wars from the Imperial Province."
Most of the crowd scoffed at the dramatic speech delivered by a guard trying to play politics, but the outrage still permeated through and through. Some of them were clearly outraged at the execution, but then again, others seemed to be more upset at those who were against it.
The civil war may have only been fought in Skyrim, but its spirit was clearly still present even here. And was it any surprise, really? Master Therien said that there were many still seeking Talos, that there were many who would be helped with these dissident endeavors.
But this was how these things ended in Cyrodiil. There was no place to run – no Stormcloak-controlled Holds to hide the dissidents. Everything about this scene was just… chilling.
"Sweetness," Bishop nudged her again adamantly. Watching this was not going to help anything and it was not going to make her feel any better. The sooner they leave, the sooner they would reach Chorrol – hopefully tonight. Then she could see Therien herself and make sure he's alright.
"I… I know," she whispered back at him, eager to get away, but her feet still felt heavy. She couldn't help but stare in between the people partially blocking her view – right at that condemned woman's face. At least she couldn't see the expression well. She didn't want to see the expression. She didn't want to see any of this, but she couldn't tear herself away.
"Alright, enough," Bishop growled. He couldn't stand that horrified expression of hers anymore. His hand around her waist tightened the grip and he forcibly yanked her away, eliciting a small surprised yelp from her. A few people turned around to see what was happening, but a second later, they turned back to look at the execution again when it was clear it was nothing more exciting.
But it worked. Her feet felt a bit wobbly, but she managed to tear herself away at last and she walked where Bishop ushered her. He didn't let go of her the entire time, adamantly leading her to the front gates, despite her several attempts to look behind her back to the spectacle again. They just needed to leave the city and head towards Chorrol already.
But just as Aeyrin finally stopped looking back and pressed herself into Bishop's flank gratefully instead, they were stopped in their tracks once more. This time, by the guards standing by the gates, stepping into their way with scowls on their faces.
"Apologies, folks. Nobody leaves the city," one of the guards shook his head regretfully.
"What? Why?" Bishop shot them a disgruntled look. What the fuck was going on now?
"We are looking for dissidents in hiding. Nobody leaves until we find them," the guard nodded somberly.
"Didn't you just execute her?" Bishop scoffed. What was the spectacle all for then, if they didn't find their dissident?
"That was the woman harboring them. We still haven't found where the actual dissidents are," the guard shrugged. "Sorry, folks. Investigation in progress. We can't let you leave."
Aeyrin instinctively looked back. The crowd by the chapel was dispersing by now – the execution was clearly over. But she remembered the sight of that woman. She looked beaten up and broken. They must have tortured her for the location of the dissidents. Gods, that only made her feel worse. What if the Thalmor were doing the very same thing to Master Therien right now?
"We just arrived yesterday. We're not even 'hiding' here," Bishop growled. "We're just travelers."
"Sorry, sir. We have our orders," the guard shook his head. "Nobody goes out until we find the dissidents. You better go back to where you were staying until we're done."
That was that. They had no idea how long this shit could take and they couldn't leave. There was no way to leave Bruma that they knew of. Bishop didn't know the city that well to know any escape routes. Hopefully the actual dissidents did. But being here in the investigated town was a danger on its own. Aeyrin still had plenty of things in her possession that could implicate her of the very same thing.
They needed to retreat back to the inn and hide her books until this search was over.
…
It was taking forever. Bishop kept periodically checking by the gates, but the guards always just shook their heads at him. And eventually, it was too late for them to head out and get to Chorrol at a tolerable hour anyway.
Staying at the Jerall View set them back quite a bit. Especially since they had no idea what else to do in the city with all their supplies replenished and shopping done – they could only stay at the inn and eat and drink and spend more and more money on that.
They were planning on staying at the chapel in Chorrol, much to Bishop's dismay, but it would have been free of charge. Now, after this day added to their expenses, they would probably have to hold back on the splurging a little next time. At least a bit. It was discouraging, but not as discouraging as being stuck in Bruma against their will. Especially when the only thing that could finally ease Aeyrin's mind was seeing Master Therien alive and well.
It was strange to be hoping for this, but there was that tinge in them making them want the dissidents to be found already.
It was too early to go to sleep, but the inn was getting very crowded again in the evening, so they grabbed dinner early and retreated back to their new room promptly to spend the rest of their time here alone, away from the people. Everyone was talking about one thing anyway – the dissidents. The chatter was hard to get away from. Whispers of crazy theories permeated the room constantly. Or maybe it was just too easy to notice with the very thing being on Aeyrin's mind as well.
At least the room was blessedly quiet and peaceful. It did give her more opportunities to drown in unpleasant thoughts, but luckily she could always distract herself with Bishop. She was feeling a little more needy for contact and reassurance than usual. But he didn't seem to mind in the least.
She lazily drew circles on Bishop's skin, running her fingers through the hair on his pecs in slow motions. It was strange how much this simple thing could calm her down. But it still wasn't enough.
"They can't hold us here that long," Bishop placed a reassuring kiss into her hair, as if he could practically hear her racing thoughts in the bout of silence. It wasn't that hard to guess though – of course she couldn't escape them just then. "Just one day delay. We'll head out tomorrow. I'm sure of it."
"Yeah… I know," Aeyrin smiled weakly, but she couldn't help but nuzzle into his arms a little more as if it would give her more comfort than his words. It kind of did.
"Free-Winter would have told you if there was an emergency," he squeezed her closer.
"True," she nodded. The letter said it – everything was fine, the spy was dealt with. It would just be a very nice visit. She would see Master Therien again, she would be able to talk to him in person, she would introduce Bishop at last, show her old mentor the engagement ring. Those were the things she needed to focus on. It was going to be good. It was going to be great.
She pressed a grateful kiss to the side of his jaw before she sprung up, shuffling a bit from his embrace and flinching a bit when the hand that was previously stroking through her hair raked through some tangles there. When Bishop removed his hand from her hair, she promptly straddled his thighs instead, pressing herself against him more intimately. She still kept her hands on his chest, stroking over his pecs slowly in contemplation. This time, however, she was determined to think about something else at last.
"Feeling more ready to see Kari?" she smirked at him. She wasn't the only one being overly anxious. Bishop kept going back and forth, kept trying to find some excuse to avoid this, even though he clearly needed a resolution. And the more he did that, the more nervous she got. She knew from what he had told her what his family was like. She had seen Kari, she knew what she was willing to do for something so simple as getting Bishop to come to Cyrodiil. But somehow, from Bishop's behavior, she felt like this was far from the worst of what could await them.
But for him, she was determined to do whatever it took to help his family. Or to help him get his family out of his life. Whichever one would end up being the best choice.
"Please don't make me think about my sister when you're sitting naked on top of me," Bishop groaned. Alright, they may have not been doing anything, and they kind of talked about most personal shit when they were naked in bed, after some necessary stress relief, but this was a good way to deflect the subject. He still wasn't sure about this. He still wanted to somehow keep Aeyrin away from all this, but he had no idea how to tell her. She would just reassure him and insist on helping him, no matter what. He may have loved that about her, but this really worried him now. Just like it did back when it came to Thorn.
She had no idea what she was getting herself into.
"R-right… sorry," Aeyrin let out a nervous chuckle. Maybe they shouldn't go over and over all this stuff they were worried about endlessly. Maybe it was better to just distract themselves instead. There was nothing to be done in any case. They just needed to wait until tomorrow.
And pass the time somehow.