Chapter XIV – What's Coming to You

The cell door opened and Aeyrin squirmed away from Bishop.

He instantly straightened up in attention. There was no henchman with a crossbow this time, but before he could get hopeful about that, Ri'zhassa uncovered one of his sleeves, upturning his palm and showing him the wrist-crossbow trained straight at his head.

Shit. He thought of everything. At least he assumed that Aeyrin wouldn't fight back this time and he wouldn't need both hands to handle her.

Was he right? What if he was right? What if she really wouldn't fight back this time? What if she would really feel the urge to let him feed her that thing again?

Bishop couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let any of this happen any longer.

He had a plan. He had that plan ever since he saw that door in action properly. It was a pretty shitty plan, but it was the only one he had. There was nothing else he could do. Not that he could think of. He had to do it now. They were not staying here for a moment longer.

With the crossbow still trained at Bishop, Ri'zhassa advanced towards Aeyrin. He already had the purple vial in his hand and he uncorked it only with his thumb. Aeyrin was sitting on the ground, shivering in fear and exhaustion both, but she looked at him with such… uncertainty.

Fuck, now Bishop really worried.

When Ri'zhassa was in front of her though, she turned her head to the side sharply. Bishop expected her to start yelling at him, fighting back, but she only let out a soft frightened whimper.

"Please, don't," she sobbed. She wasn't strong enough to fight those horrible thoughts. She felt like they were getting louder and louder. And Ri'zhassa only laughed at her weak distress. The sound was like a hammer bashing her head in.

"You'll feel much better, little rabbit," he chuckled.

That was it. Bishop suppressed an angry growl not to alert that man. The crossbow was still aiming at him, but Ri'zhassa was distracted by trying to get Aeyrin to drink. It was the only chance.

Bishop stood up onto his feet abruptly and just when he did, the crossbow shot out. But since he changed position, it hit him only in his flank. Bishop grunted out in pain. He knew he couldn't overpower Ri'zhassa with his hands tied, but he didn't care. He just needed to do one thing.

Bishop ran against the man as fast as he could. Ri'zhassa aimed his crossbow higher now with a snarl, but before he could shoot, Bishop body-slammed into him, shoving him against the bars behind him. It probably didn't even hurt that much, but it did what it needed to. The vial fell from his hand and shattered on the ground, letting the liquid seep into the filth below.

"Fucking wafiit!" Ri'zhassa snarled angrily. Only a second later, Bishop felt a deep burning all over his face. It took a second for him to realize that he was scratched. "You know how much that costs? Mor kha'jay trajir jer!" He hissed. Then a punch into Bishop's stomach followed, and another.

Bishop didn't really expect the swift retaliation and he stumbled back, falling onto his ass on the ground. But none of that mattered. That fucker's skooma was gone at least. He just hoped that he didn't have another on him, but based on that reaction, he did not.

"Don't worry, my little rabbit, I'll get you another one. We'll do this properly again," Ri'zhassa spat at Bishop and as he approached, he swiftly kicked his injured flank, still with the small bolt in it.

Bishop growled in pain, but it didn't matter. It was time. Time for his stupid plan. Now or never. Well… now or next time, but he just wanted to prevent him from giving Aeyrin the drugs again.

The minute Ri'zhassa opened the door and quickly left the cage, Bishop stood up. He would never be fast enough to somehow get out of that door, and even if he did, Ri'zhassa would just hurt him and shove him back. But his plan was different.

Bishop lunged, side-first into the door and when he was close enough, he positioned his hand to the door-edge bar. The door was already slamming shut, and when it did, he felt it happen. The automatically-locking bolt dug into his finger, sliding along his skin forcefully and lodging on his nail. The pain made Bishop yank his hand away, but it was done. Blood sprayed all over the door as he ripped his nail from his finger with that motion. He let out a feral scream, but he was convinced that it worked.

Fuck, that was a lot of blood. He felt a little… light-headed. But he couldn't give into that now.

Aeyrin let out a fearful and concerned whimper from the corner of the cell. And Ri'zhassa didn't get angry this time. He actually laughed.

"Serves you right, wafiit. I hope it hurts."

It did. It hurt like the Void. But that wasn't important.

Ri'zhassa only turned on his heel, leaving the bloodbath behind as he left the basement once more. They were alone again. But they had no idea when he would be back.

"Bish… Bish, you shouldn't have," Aeyrin sniffled weakly. So much hurt he went through and for what? Ri'zhassa would return anyway. And why did he mutilate his hand on that door? What would he have done if he opened it? Ri'zhassa was armed. He would have killed him if he needed to.

"Shh, it's alright," Bishop sighed. He fell down to his knees again, now involuntarily. The pain was bad. From his finger, from his flank, his face. It was all bad. But this was their only chance.

Aeyrin tried to suppress her sniffle a bit, giving him a desperate look, but he was staring back at her with such strange… intensity. It was the first time she forgot about the darkness for a very brief second and she wasn't sure why.

"Sweetheart," he took a deep breath, fighting through the pain. "I know you feel like shit, but you need to be strong now, alright? We're getting out of here."

His back was still to the door and he really hoped that he was right. He saw his bloody nail lodged in there. It had to have stopped the bolt. So with a determined nod, he pushed on the door.

It opened!

Aeyrin let out a shocked gasp. How did he do that? He… he actually got them… out? But what now? They had their hands tied and she had those cuffs and they had no weapons and…

"Get up. Can you get up? I don't know how much time we have," Bishop was already standing again, even though his body was palpably shaking in pain.

Yes. She needed to get up. She felt like she couldn't, but she needed to try. She had to. She would just… follow instructions. She would just do what he told her to. It was a comforting thought. She didn't have to think so much when she would just do what she was told. She didn't want to think anymore.

She stood up on shaky feet, but she held herself up. She followed Bishop slowly, uncertainly, but they both stepped out of the cell soon.

"He'll come back soon and we need to get the better of him," he gave Aeyrin a determined nod.

"But… how?" she whimpered. It seemed impossible to her just then.

"You trust me?" Bishop asked her meaningfully.

"Y-yes. You're… you're not gonna do anything stupid, are you?" It was hard not to think and follow instructions. She wasn't meant for that. She couldn't help but question him.

"No. You are."

What? What did that mean? Not thinking was hard, but thinking seemed harder. He was looking at her so intently, like she should already know but…

Oh! Oh Gods!

"What? No. No, you're right here. I… I can't…" She couldn't let that monster kill him! There had to be another way! She couldn't turn into that beast with no chains here and no precautions.

"Please, please believe me. I know I'm gonna be fine," Bishop looked at her pleadingly. "I know that it's hard to accept when you don't remember, but… you will never hurt me. I am sure of that."

"Bish… no…" she gave him an equally pleading and desperate look. This was terrifying. Why would he ask this of her? She wanted to just do as he asked, she wanted to just listen when her mind felt so weak. But she couldn't. "I… I don't even know if I can do it… when I want to…"

"You did before. In Falkreath. You did that when there was no other way out. Now we have no other way out either. When that door opens again, you need to do this. We have to do that when they don't expect it. Go up and they might manage to grab their weapons. Or… they might run into the city. Here and safely. You'll turn and you'll kill them off. Alright?"

He had it all in his head, but she still had too many problems with this plan. She couldn't stop herself from killing him.

"I'll lock myself in the cell if you go after me," Bishop nodded at her in reassurance.

"O-oh. Really?" She gave him a hopeful look. Well… maybe that would make her feel a little better. "But I still don't know if I can… before… in Falkreath, I didn't even know I was doing that. I… I don't know how."

"I'm sure you'll make it happen. It's… instinct, right? You've got this, love. It's our only way now," he looked at her encouragingly.

"You promise to lock yourself in there if I…?"

"Yes," he nodded again, without hesitation. Though he really wasn't worried about that.

"I… Alright," Aeyrin sighed in defeat. If only she had a different plan. But she didn't.

They remained silent for a while, staring at the door. But soon, it was starting to get too much. Ri'zhassa was not back yet and Aeyrin was feeling so weak standing there. And she felt like throwing up again. She couldn't stand at the ready like this for much longer.

Bishop noticed her discomfort soon enough. She was still in withdrawal. This had to be tough. They needed to speed things up.

"Alright. We're luring them here. No more waiting," he nodded in determination.

"S-so… make noise?" She asked uncertainly.

"No. We make noise, they'll come with their weapons ready. We need something else. Something to have them come with anything other than weapons," Bishop began to plot. It was a good idea. At least he thought as much.

"What?" Aeyrin gave him a confused look, but instead of explaining, he headed over to the lone torch by the back wall. He positioned his back to it and he had to make some effort to actually get it down. He could use it to burn down his ropes, but that would burn him badly too. And soon he would have other ways of getting rid of that anyway.

He came back with the torch slightly heating up his back. And he promptly approached the one wooden wall in that place – the one shared with the upstairs house.

"Bishop what are you…?" Aeyrin gasped at his antics, but the gasp made her feel sick again. She really felt sick and she had to run off at least a little way off to throw up again.

By the time she managed to straighten up from all the heaving, there was a small fire spreading above the stony half of the wall, right across the wooden one. It was a very slow fire. The wood was thick and kind of wet from moisture down below. It would spread, but it wasn't doing so too overwhelmingly. That was probably good.

The smoke, however, was already crawling below the door and rising up into the main room.

"Ready?" Bishop nodded at her. He left the torch lying there and stepped back, way back, leaving her waiting in front of the door alone. The fire didn't reach it yet, but soon, they heard voices.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Let's just douse that before the boss gets back!"

Ri'zhassa wasn't there, clearly. That wasn't good. But escape was more important just then.

Soon, rushed footsteps echoed around and the door swung open. Those two men rushed down, but when they finally noticed their two prisoners free instead of the fire, they gasped in shock.

"Now!" Bishop commanded Aeyrin. He was sure she knew, but nothing was happening.

Yet.

Soon a familiar sight greeted him. Her body began to twist and transform in front of his eyes. The ropes around her arms were ripped to shreds in an instant and, very soon, the iron anti-magic bracers blew apart by her transforming body. Bishop had to jump out of the way for one of the pieces not to hit him, but another did hit one of the henchmen.

And within a few seconds, there was a very angry werewolf standing in front of the stunned men.

It was… so quick. So brutal. Aeyrin lunged at them, biting, ripping, scratching, growling. They barely managed to move. She actually ripped one's arm off his body entirely before she bit into his neck. Within minutes there were only two mauled and mangled corpses there in a pool of blood. And still a very angry werewolf.

She looked up at the door – opened and inviting her to get more prey. Ri'zhassa was coming back soon and the werewolf seemed determined. She took a step towards the door, but the flames were almost there already.

"No! Stop!" Bishop bellowed. And much to his glee, she did. She looked right back at him with anger. "You have a lot of fur and you're twice as big as usual. Don't get near that, you'll burn." Once she turned back, they could still escape through that door. But not now.

Aeyrin didn't seem too happy with his reasoning. She didn't get anywhere near the fire, but she did lunge at him. Bishop almost flinched. It surprised him, but he knew what to do. He knew that his fear only made her more afraid and it only made her lash out. So instead, he raised his head calmly and confidently.

Aeyrin stopped right in front of him, looking at him intently. There was a palpable conflict in her black eyes. She wanted to tear into something. She wanted to kill. She wanted to let that anger out. But she could do that in her human form later. For now, survival was the most important thing.

"Shh, you did great," he smiled. That seemed to calm her down a little. Now to show the trust as he had so many times before. He turned his back to her. "Would you, love?" He moved his hands, prompting her for help. He was so completely vulnerable in front of her, but it had always worked before. He just needed to reassure her that he was in no danger from her.

And soon, it worked. He felt her soft fur on his hands and then a snap of her claw. The ropes fell off instantly and he rubbed his sore arms as he turned around to face her again.

"Thanks, sweetness," he grinned. He dared to do more than that. In his euphoria about his perfect plan, he reached out and stroked her furry and very bloody nose a bit before he planted a kiss on it. Aeyrin let out a small fearful whimper, but she allowed it all with no more fuss.

So fucking cute. Even after a massacre.

"Now, can you turn back? We should get out of here," he urged her. She only stood still for a while, but after a minute, her form actually started to transform.

Fuck, this all worked so… well. He was so fucking proud of himself, he could hardly believe how much he had helped her to calm her wolven state down.

Aeyrin was back soon and she helplessly stumbled, falling into his arms. Bishop caught her promptly with his arms finally free. Funny, she wailed out in pain, likely because of her wrist, but he wasn't even sure if it was still broken in her werewolf form. It must have been, but she never let it show. He didn't even notice in the flurry of claws.

There was no more time to waste though. He was going to fight through all of his pain and get them out of here.

"Bish… you're… you're…" Aeyrin gasped when she tried to force her eyes open.

"I'm alright. You were great. Now we need to get out. Hang on, I'll carry you," he gave her a reassuring smile as he reached down with one hand to yank the small bolt from his flank at last. He let out a cry of pain, but he would survive that. They just needed to escape.

"N-no," Aeyrin quickly pulled herself away from his embrace. No matter how weak and horrible she felt, Bishop was hurt. She couldn't strain him by letting him carry her. "I… I can walk." She nodded in determination. He was right. She needed to be strong right now. That darkness could go suck it! She was not going to let it ruin Bishop's plan!

"Really? Then let's go, because the fire is getting a bit… big," Bishop nodded towards the open door. Its arch was getting enveloped already.

They had no time to lose. They both broke into run with what little strength they had left. They charged the door arch that was already burning, along with the opened door, but they still had a clear way out. It was just a little dicey.

They quickly rushed through the doorframe into the upstairs room. They made it! They were almost out!

"Hang on!" Bishop quickly stopped her. There was something he was not leaving behind. He couldn't see any of their clothes anywhere, but he did see things on the table. Among some playing cards, there were coins, one ruby, likely from Aeyrin's shirt, and all their jewelry. Those fuckers were clearly gambling for it. Which was kind of lucky. He grabbed all of it. He was not going to leave one precious thing here to burn. Not Aeyrin and not their treasures.

But just as he grabbed everything, the front door suddenly swung open and then closed promptly again, as if in a practiced motion to hide any going-ons inside.

He was back.

Ri'zhassa went slack-jawed at the scene. His merchandise was running around in a burning hideout.

He was going to intervene instantly. If only he was fast enough.

Aeyrin was so weak. So slow, she still felt like everything was only a dream. Maybe it was. But when she saw him, everything else was pushed back. She saw red.

She thought she had a better handle on her anger, but not now. Now she had no control at all. It was like her body moved on its own entirely. She only watched as her hale hand reached out and grabbed the lapel of Ri'zhassa's embroidered shirt. She felt suddenly so oddly strong as the adrenaline and rage filled her. And she yanked. He was still so shocked, he did not see any of this coming.

Ri'zhassa was sent stumbling back, right onto the wall. The wall that was already enveloped in flames. And then a piercing shriek filled the house. Aeyrin could barely see through the smoke accumulating and the haziness of her state, but she did see the flames catch quickly on the Khajiit's clothes and fur.

It was like someone else was speaking, but she recognized her voice when the words echoed through the house.

"Now you finally get what's coming to you!"

"Go!" It was followed by Bishop's panicked urge. Well… alright. Follow his instructions.

She wasn't sure what was happening anymore. Somehow she found herself on the ground, being picked up. People were around, some staring at her, some at the burning house. But she didn't have much time to think. Soon, she felt a cloth being shoved into her hale hand and she looked at the source in confusion.

Bishop was standing there, pulling on some trousers while holding a shirt. He was hissing in pain through it all, but he was soldiering on despite that. And then she noticed the clothes-line behind him. He just probably stole them some clothes to keep attention off them.

She was still staring at him, half naked, by the time he was done. And so instead, he began to help her put on the clothes in her hand. It was a simple yellow dress, kind of wet.

"Can you hear me, princess?" He looked at her in concern after a while.

"Y-yes," she nodded absentmindedly. What was even happening now? And what just happened in that house?

"Go. Get out of the town and wait for me outside the stables. I'll go get our shit from the inn, alright? Don't stop for anything or anyone. Just go."

Alright. She would just… go.

What else could she do?

…

The darkness was still there, she could still feel it.

But it didn't feel so encroaching, so strong. So inevitable. There was also a distant feeling of warmth and safety. Faint, but she tried to focus on it. She tried to focus on herself.

She felt a warm blanket on her, a warm thigh below her head and a warm hand stroking through her hair slowly.

There was a sweet smell in the air. Like honey. But when she loved that any other time, it was twisting her stomach now. She still felt so sick. The smoke of a nearby fire didn't help much. And she soon began to squirm in discomfort.

"Easy, love. Don't move so much," Bishop's voice calmed her and she finally forced herself to open her eyes.

She only saw flames in front of her. She panicked for a moment, before she noticed the rest – the lush trees all around, the dishes on the fire, without a doubt holding a good meal. And their bedroll nearby.

A camp. A safe camp. Their camp. She was safe. She had to keep telling herself that. She was safe and in Bishop's arms again.

"How are you feeling?" His calm voice spoke to her again.

"Not… not too good," she admitted. Her voice felt hoarse and her throat burned.

"It's alright. You'll feel better soon, I promise," he sighed. It was too much to hope for that she would feel better already. "I… tied your hand into bandages, but… well, it's still broken. I did manage to get a potion into you. I hope that makes it better. Until you can use your magic."

"Thank you," she whispered softly. The hand didn't hurt as much, that was true. "Bish… what happened?" She didn't remember much. Everything was hazy up until they left the house. Then she remembered nothing at all.

"You ran outside of the city and I went to get our packs. When I came to you by the stables, you just… passed out. Like you finally could," he chuckled. It was impressive that she managed to hold herself up until he showed up. "So I took you here, into the forest. Made camp. Now we're gonna stay and recuperate a bit."

That sounded nice. Recuperation. But… why did they run at all?

"Couldn't we… tell someone? Why are we here?" She asked in confusion before the smell of honey filled her nose again and she had to stop talking.

"Tell someone what? That we wanted to trap a drug dealer and kill him instead of telling the guards? We'd get arrested. And we burned down a house. Also the corpses there might raise… questions." Those two mangled men were definitely not killed by a human. Or an elf.

"We… we burned down a house. We… the men… I…" the memories almost felt like they weren't real. Did that all really happen?

"Yes, love. They're all gone. Ri'zhassa is dead."

It was true. It was real. He was really dead. She really killed him. It sounded so… unbelievable. Everything that happened just sounded unbelievable.

"He… he fed me skooma," she gasped in realization. She knew that, of course. It was now just all sinking in. And now she really felt sick. Her body suddenly heaved painfully and she gagged. But Bishop seemed ready for that. There was an empty pot right in front of her face within a second and instead of brushing her hair with his fingers like he had before now, he held it back from her face until she emptied her stomach again. There was not much there to empty, but still some vile, bitter liquid made it out.

"It's alright, love," Bishop spoke soothingly. "You'll get through this. I'll be here and we'll get through this. You'll feel better soon."

Such comforting words. She tried hard to ignore the foreboding feeling and focused just on what he was saying.

"Can you sit up?" Bishop urged her after a spell. "The food's almost ready."

"I… I don't want any…" she shook her head against his knee. It was going to just make her sick again.

"None of that. You need to eat. You need your strength back," Bishop said firmly as he put away the pot and started to straighten her up. She didn't want that. She wanted to stay lying like that!

"But… I'll just… throw up again," she whined weakly.

"That's alright. If you do, you do. Just try to eat, please."

He was really hard to say no to when he was clearly trying to just take care of her. Gods, she didn't even want to think what she would ever do without him. This was her worst nightmare. Ri'zhassa knew exactly what to do to her to break her completely. But Bishop would never let her stay broken.

When she was straightened up into a sitting position, she could finally see Bishop properly. Especially those gashes over his whole face. They were clearly cleaned, but still deep. He was lucky they managed to miss his eyes. But he would not leave her in pain, she could hardly do anything less, could she?

"Oh, Bish," she sighed and reached out to him, but he quickly stopped her hale hand from moving.

"I'm fine. I cleaned my wounds, took a potion. I promise, I'm fine. Just get your strength back, love. Then heal your hand, only then you're allowed to worry about me," he smiled at her affectionately.

She wanted to worry about him now. It made the darkness seem less important. But she knew he would insist. And… he was right. She couldn't really concentrate on her magic now.

All her energy was spent on those thoughts. On fighting them. It was making her so tired. But she couldn't let them win after everything.

She couldn't let herself think about the relief and warmth she had felt when that vile thing coursed through her system.

She just needed to do whatever she could now to get better.

She huddled herself into the fur blanket while Bishop moved closer to the fire to finish the food. She really didn't want to eat. Her stomach clenched at the mere thought. It was a strange feeling. She usually couldn't get enough food, especially Bishop's food.

The longer she was conscious of her surroundings again, the more cold she was feeling. She wasn't sure why. Usually she wouldn't be feeling cold here in Cyrodiil, in the West Weald forest in the spring. It wasn't exactly hot as it was at the Gold Coast, but the forests were warm and welcoming. And she had their thick blanket on her, along with Bishop's old shirt she used for sleeping. He must have dressed her in it. She had no idea what happened to her other clothes, but they were probably lost. Remembering everything that happened in that house was kind of hard and confusing though.

"Alright. Food's done," Bishop tore her away from her ruminations in a moment. "We had some chicken breasts in our supplies from Chorrol. I thought it might be for the best, not too heavy or greasy. I made it just with some honey and not too many spices. And some vegetables."

Aeyrin nodded at him with a faint smile decorating his face. He was trying to be so helpful and considerate. She still really didn't feel like eating, but now she would feel bad for not even trying.

While she tried to fight the nausea, Bishop prepared a portion of the meal into a bowl for her. She was starting to get really cold and she was reluctant to take her hands from under the thick blanket, but she was left with no other choice. Bishop situated himself behind her in the meantime, warming her up a bit from the back. At least there was that.

She started to eat slowly. She knew it was good, like everything he made. She could objectively tell that it was good. But she just couldn't enjoy it. Even taking breaths felt like it was making her sick. Eating was worse.

She knew that Bishop was right and that she needed strength, so she forced herself to eat as much as she could. But soon, her stomach clenched again and the nausea overwhelmed her once more. She had to discard her food and grab the pot again instead.

There went the food. She knew it was pointless to try. When she finally stopped heaving and gagging, she placed the pot further away and let out a disappointed unsteady breath.

"I'm sorry… I can't…" she shook her head.

"It's alright," Bishop reassured her again and a moment later, she noticed a waterskin being handed to her. She promptly grabbed the pot again and gurgled a bit of the water to wash her mouth off the unpleasant aftertaste.

When she was done and she put away the pot again, she was promptly pulled into Bishop's arms. That was a good thing. She was beginning to shiver a lot. The cold was unpleasant and she knew it was only made worse by her lack of nourishment, but she could do nothing about that. So instead, she just snuggled into his embrace.

He began to stroke her hair gently once more. She wasn't even sure if he himself had eaten already. But he was so concentrated on her the entire time. And she was starting to feel really bad about that. He was still wounded. So was she, for that matter. And she couldn't do anything yet to help either of them. Maybe a magicka potion would help a little, but right now, she couldn't even imagine tearing herself away from his arms.

She snuggled even closer, brushing her cheek against his shirt. Only now she realized she didn't recognize the fabric.

"What are you wearing?" She asked quietly. It was some bright blue embroidered shirt. She had never seen him wear anything that… vibrant.

"You don't remember?" He smirked. "We ran out of the house, but we were still half-naked. I grabbed some clothes from a nearby clothes-line. There's a dress here somewhere for you. But it was still a little wet so I changed your clothes for now. But you can wear it wherever we go next. Until we get new clothes."

"R-right," Aeyrin nodded. "They took our clothes. Took everything."

"Not everything," Bishop smiled a bit. For one, they didn't take their lives. That was a victory on its own. But more than that. He was glad that they decided to go in unarmed and unarmored for the sake of the ruse. All they had with them were their clothes, jewelry, and a few lockpicks hidden in Bishop's pockets and boots. He didn't even take his hunting knife, just to appear cooperative and harmless. But Aeyrin had those bracers with the hidden blades.

All of that was gone, of course. Almost all. Those assholes were probably fighting over the jewelry and Aeyrin's ruby. Maybe they got it from Ri'zhassa as payment for guarding his merchandise. Whatever the case, he did get all of their precious trinkets back.

He reached back towards his pack and he pulled out the treasures he had stolen back. First, he took Aeyrin's engagement ring in his hand, showing it off to her.

"Oh. You got it back?" Aeyrin gasped. That was fortunate. She would have missed it. Even though they had their lives, it wasn't a strange thing to miss something so meaningful, was it? She didn't even feel reluctant this time to extract her hand from under the warm blanket and she presented it to Bishop.

He slid the ring onto her ring finger once more. It still felt a little hard to believe that she was wearing this. He felt kind of giddy putting that ring on her again. He did notice her frown in the process though and it took him a while to realize that she wasn't frowning at the ring but at his hand – more specifically at his blue-ish finger with a black dried bloody pulp instead of a nail.

"I… don't really understand what you did…" she admitted. She remembered him getting hurt a lot and then he opened the door. But she was still fuzzy on the details. Everything was still fuzzy. And dark. Somehow it all felt so… dark.

"I'll explain it to you later. Once you feel a bit better," he placed a comforting kiss on the top of her head. "Don't worry about that now, love. I'm fine. Alive. You're alive. And we'll all be alright once we recuperate a little."

Yes. He was right. It was comforting to hear. And it was even more comforting to see him show her the familiar silver chain with his wolf-head ring on it. He got that one back too.

"You got yours too?" She asked hopefully. The dragon-head ring on his hand belonged to him just as much as this one belonged to her.

"I got everything. The soul gem rings, got your Stendarrite amulet from Therien too. It would be a shame to lose that only days after getting it," he smiled. "I got all my other rings. The dragon, my muffling ring and the waterbreathing ring too. Those fuckers were gambling with all this shit. And… I got this too." He reached into his lap where he had discarded the jewelry before and showed her the bright ruby.

"Oh. They took it off. Guess my clothes are gone completely," she smirked a bit. It didn't seem that important, even though she really liked those.

"Yeah. But we'll have plenty of money with this to buy you new ones. And me too. I'm not going around wearing this," he scoffed at the brightly colored clothes he had on. Ridiculous.

"The men… I… turned, right?" Aeyrin's tune changed a second later. Ever since he mentioned them gambling with their things, she couldn't stop thinking about the fate that befell them. "I… I don't remember much but…"

"You did what you had to. And you only killed those that deserved no less," Bishop nodded in determination.

"I really didn't hurt you at all?" She looked up at him in concern. She didn't feel right about hurting those men either, not like that. Not as the monster she couldn't control. She didn't even feel right about hurting those vampires in Falkreath. But there was no changing any of that.

"No. Not at all. I know you hate to think about it but… you're not a feral monster. When you turn, you have a mind, a… logic. A will. You didn't want to hurt me. And you listened to me when I warned you not to go close to the fire."

It was still disturbing to hear about this. But she had to take his word for it. He was clearly here and alive and relatively well. Un-mauled at least. Maybe he really did understand that werewolf better than she did. Maybe.

Maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world as a very last resort. Until she could get cured and get her Shouts back. If she could even listen to his instructions when she was in that form – if she could listen to him about the fire.

The fire. She almost forgot. It all blurred together. Bishop put the house on fire to lure out the men into the basement. And then she…

"Ri'zhassa's really dead," she gasped as if she was still unable to believe it.

"Yeah. He is. You shoved him into the flames. He was burning really fast with that fur and… he just screamed. I saw him fall to the ground before we ran off. He couldn't have survived that," he nodded in reassurance. As if it was a good thing she burned him alive. Wait… wasn't it?

"What if someone helped him?" She asked frightfully. There were people around, right? It was the middle of the day when they escaped.

"There were people around, yeah, but I didn't see many guards. Not around the plaza. I think nobody heard him scream. When we ran off, nobody was paying attention to that house at all, you know it was a little hidden among the bigger houses. But… then they saw us, running there half naked. And then someone yelled 'fire'. That was when I grabbed the clothes and had us run off. I don't know if they called the guards. Probably yeah, to stop it from spreading. But that plaza wasn't really… an upstanding part of the neighborhood, you remember. Maybe the people were used to not getting the guards involved too much. When I was running from the inn to catch up with you, there wasn't even any alert or shit. And people wouldn't risk their own hides to put out the flames. There's no way anyone helped Ri'zhassa."

The lack of alarm in the city was comforting. Hopefully the fire didn't spread much, but the house was a little hidden and a little back, further away from the other ones. It looked like the poorest house in the poor district. And no wonder, it was only one room and a basement.

"So… we're not wanted or anything?" She asked uncertainly.

"I don't think so. Hopefully nobody will care enough about a suspicious bunch of travelers. Not when the victims were criminals and we've left the city already. I… wouldn't go back to Kvatch though. Just in case," Bishop sighed.

"I wouldn't want to anyway," she shook her head as her whole body shivered again and she snuggled closer to him to stave it off. She felt a little feverish. And the darkness was still there at the back of her mind. But talking about things was at least distracting her a little. "Where… where do we go?"

"Once we're healed and you feel better, we can go to Skingrad. It's so close. Why not? We'll stop by for clothes, supplies and all that." Bishop pondered. And besides, Skingrad was a nice place to unwind. Get some wine. Forget the ordeal and focus on the good. Ri'zhassa was dead. And once Aeyrin got past her withdrawal, she would hopefully be able to appreciate the fact. She still looked so sick. She was pale, shivering constantly, and her eyes were glazed over with a hint of the former emptiness in them.

"So…" he started to ask nervously. He wasn't sure if he should broach the subject. "How long does this… last?"

"The… oh. I… I don't know. I'm… I'm worried it will be like this forever," she sighed. She couldn't see an end to feeling like this. She really couldn't.

"What? That's bullshit," Bishop scoffed. "That's not possible."

"People say you get addicted after only one and… I… I feel so bad, I don't know what to…" her voice started to tremble, but she was quickly interrupted. When the voice of reason in her head got drowned out by the fears, Bishop was there to promptly replace it.

"That's not how it works. You've seen recovered addicts before, right? They do recover," Bishop gave her a reassuring squeeze. "And you're not even an addict. You had one vial. That's it. Now your body's just… confused. It will pass, I'm sure of that. Just… I don't know how long it can take."

"Me neither," she shuddered. "I don't know anyone who had just… one vial. Faldaen's withdrawals could last for days and he would get worse and worse. Until he had to get another dose," her voice was still trembling. What if it was going to happen to her too? What if it got worse?

"Well… do you feel worse? Worse than when you came to in that cell? You were barely even able to speak then. Barely able to move. Do you really feel worse now, hours later?" Bishop gave her a challenging look.

"N-no…" She didn't. She remembered the awful feeling and the overwhelming darkness. It was all still there but not as bad.

"See? Then it's not like that for you. Faldaen was taking it for years. Decades. You had one vial. It was like… catching a disease. Your body will recover when you don't feed it more and don't get used to it."

He was right. It was what she would have said to any skooma addict coming to the temple for help. Why was it so hard to see these things clearly right now?

But she had him to remind her. To reassure her.

And even if the foreboding feeling was always there now, she did feel a little bit more hopeful.

She just needed to be patient.

No matter how hard that was.