After their first night in Dawnstar, Bishop and Aeyrin were happy enough to enjoy the city a bit longer.
Especially since most people already made peace with the fact that Aeyrin was there and those who wanted to ask something did already ask. The rest stopped staring – mostly. Some of them still did, but it was not nearly as bad as it was in the beginning. Though some still had some jibes about how she should be doing something about the dragons instead of lazing around the city. She usually solved that with a challenging stare and prompting them to give her suggestions exactly on what she should be doing. Aside from 'go kill Alduin', they had no answers. And they especially had no answers when she asked if they knew where Alduin was just then.
Other than those annoyances, their stay was so far uneventful. They really needed something uneventful. They didn't even have any adventures planned – just rest and recuperation.
The second day they headed back to the smithy to see if the hairpiece was finished. The Nord blacksmith greeted them eagerly and directed them into the house the moment they approached.
When they entered, the Redguard was sitting there by a small cradle, rocking it steadily and the only reaction to their entrance was a prompt gesture as she put a finger in front of her lips, shushing them silently.
They quietly waited for her while they looked around the room. It was an ordinary house, except one end had crates full of metal, armor and weapons, and the other one where the Redguard was sitting, had a bed with an inordinate amount of thick fur blankets on it. They had probably never seen that many in one place. The woman must have really been suffering in the cold.
She rocked the cradle for a while longer before she stopped, very carefully retreating not to wake the baby, and then she approached them at last.
"I finished the piece a few hours ago," she whispered. "I think it turned out really good. Come on," she ushered them towards a large table by the wall. There were numerous tiny tools there and pieces of jewelry – chains, gems, rings, all unfinished components that were clearly waiting for her masterful touch.
She opened a small strongbox and retrieved the item. It was a silver ornament on a delicate hair clasp. It was beautiful. There were so many intricate squiggles and curves along with tiny leaves on it and it was all made into the shape of an irregular teardrop. At the widest part of it, there was the pearl in the middle – set inside a small silver 'prison'.
"Wow. This is beautiful," Aeyrin whispered back. She didn't have any images in her head about how she wanted it to look, but this was breath-taking. And it looked so delicate. Nobody would wear this for anything but a very special occasion. It was perfect.
Now it just needed to be blessed in Windhelm and then she needed some flowers from Falkreath. Actually, some pretty flowers could be put behind this hairpiece. It would look amazing. And she really couldn't wait to see her dress.
This was all making it more and more real as they progressed with the preparations. Well, they didn't do anything much yet. Should they do more? Maybe they should write to people and invite them already – make sure everyone knew where to go. And shouldn't they get the boats for the lake somewhere too? What if those actually needed to be made?
Alright, she was getting a little nervous. Right now, she should really concentrate on how pretty the hairpiece was. After all, the wedding was still a month away. There was a lot of time for everything.
"I'm pleased you like it," the Redguard nodded and outstretched her hand expectantly. Right. The money.
They paid her what they agreed before and left as quietly as possible while she went back to the cradle.
Well, that was done – their whole purpose for being in Dawnstar. It's been ages since everything wasn't all doom and gloom. It was nice to just spend time on mundane stuff like this.
And it was especially nice when they had nothing else to do but enjoy themselves for the rest of the day.
…
Aeyrin woke up in the middle of the night with a strange feeling in her stomach.
She had been feeling odd since dinner. She said as much – the slaughterfish she ordered smelled weird, but Bishop convinced her that it didn't. After all, her werewolf senses were making everything smell weird, so she shouldn't really trust it.
But now she was starting to feel even more queasy than before. That was a clear indication that she wasn't wrong. Ugh. Of course at least something would go wrong during their stay here, even if it wasn't life-threatening danger.
She tried to be as quiet as possible and not wake Bishop up as she got up from the bed. Hopefully she would be successful – after all, he must have been exhausted. They didn't have much to do all day so they spent it in their room, for the most part having sex.
She shuffled around the room naked, still careful to be quiet, before she finally found his shirt on the floor. It wasn't the one she usually slept in – it was the one he wore now. But she didn't want to look for anything else. She was starting to feel like she should maybe hurry. The queasy feeling quickly turned into a very real nausea and her throat felt constricted with an unpleasant taste while her stomach clenched uncomfortably. She just needed to grab whatever she could and leave. At least Bishop's shirts were always long enough to hide everything indecent.
She draped the shirt over her head and practically ran out of the room. Alright, she was really getting sick. She didn't even take a look whether anyone was in the common room. She felt some eyes on her, but she ignored them as she ran to the bathing room promptly.
Fortunately, that one was empty.
She quickly slammed the door behind her and grabbed one of the empty buckets on the ground there. Once she started concentrating on how sick she felt, she couldn't really stop it. She emptied the contents of her stomach into the bucket promptly, heaving and gagging for a while before she finally felt a bit better. She placed the bucket on the ground again and slumped against the cool bathing room wall. The moist wood under her bare leg and buttocks weren't really pleasant, but she needed a moment.
Stupid slaughterfish.
Next time she was going to trust her instincts about food smells.
Then again, the smells were being strange for a while now and she never got sick before. She was just out of sorts, maybe. It was like that lately. The exhaustion of Markarth and then Rorikstead and Serana's mess – it was all a little much. A lot of stress and little to no respite.
And of course, now that she could enjoy some peace, she had to deal with this. It wasn't the first time she felt sick in the night lately, but it never went this far. She had assumed that the stress-free time they were having in Dawnstar would make it all go away, but no such luck.
No such luck in any of it going away. She still felt that strange taste in her mouth because of Serana, now combined with another bout of sickly taste. She still smelled everything too much. She still felt the occasional waves of exhaustion out of nowhere, even if she did nothing tiring before. It was all stress.
Wasn't it?
A strange unpleasant thought occurred to her. If someone was complaining to her about these prolonged symptoms, she would not really blame it on stress.
Especially when…
Shit.
It was normal that she was a little… late. That happened to her a lot. It happened a lot when she was stressed and the other sensations went along with it. Like her breasts being overly sensitive or some occasional cramps.
It didn't usually last that long though.
But she was on contraceptives all the time. This shouldn't happen. Sure, she would probably suggest it to a patient at the temple, but she knew more circumstances about her own life. She knew what she was dealing with lately.
As much as she tried to rationalize it, the anxiety was winning over steadily. It could be stress, it could be her bleeding approaching. That was all normal, even if it lasted for several days. She knew all that. But the slightest improbable possibility made her latch onto that idea intensely. She never felt like this. Not to this extent. And that made her panic.
What if that really happened? The way she and Bishop were going, it wasn't impossible, despite the contraceptives. She was still under the effects of the ones she made herself in Cyrodiil only a couple of weeks ago. Maybe she did it wrong. Maybe she mixed it wrong and it was ineffective. She only switched back to the reliable tinctures a week or two ago, as far as she recalled.
What if she did it wrong all her life and she was giving ineffective contraceptives to the poor? That was an unsettling thought.
Not as unsettling as what she was thinking about herself though.
This was… insane. She shouldn't jump to conclusions. She shouldn't let her thoughts spiral out of control because of a small possibility.
No, for once, she was going to be a normal person and just assume the worst case scenario didn't happen. Because that would be the worst case scenario with everything going on right now.
She was going to be rational this time.
The reassuring words were ringing in her head as her breathing felt heavier and tears started to prick at her eyes. Sure… that was a rational person's reaction, right? She just curled into a little ball and hugged her knees, pressing her forehead to them as if it would hide her from her suspicions. That would work, right? No disastrous scenarios were running through her head at all.
She was fine.
…
Bishop woke up alone in the bed, distinctly lacking Aeyrin's body nuzzling against him.
Dammit. What time was it? It felt like he had barely slept. His whole body ached pleasantly as it rested after the day they've had, but he would probably need to get up. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he couldn't see her anywhere.
Well, maybe he should give her a few minutes. She probably went to the bathing room.
Then again, he was still a little nervous about being in Dawnstar after the last mass Brotherhood ambush. And the fact that they might try to target Aeyrin out of spite kept crossing his mind. Nothing wrong with just checking. She didn't usually leave the room in the middle of the night.
And he usually noticed when she got up from the bed.
Alright, now he got nervous. He hopped off the bed and tried to locate some of his clothes on the ground. He found Aeyrin's shirt – he wasn't gonna wear that. Then he found his pants. He couldn't find his own shirt anywhere, but who cared? He was just gonna peek into the common room.
He pulled up his trousers and slipped out of the room. There were only two patrons in the common room – both passed out on their tables – and the innkeeper. The man was standing behind the bar tiredly, clearly ready to go to bed too. When he spotted Bishop searching the room though, he only pointed towards the door to the bathing room.
Oh. Aeyrin went there? Alright. He should probably go back to sleep.
"She looked kinda sick. Maybe you should check on her," the innkeeper stopped Bishop when he turned on his heel again.
Sick? Was that the stupid slaughterfish? It smelled fine! She's been complaining about weird smells for ages. Was it really her werewolf senses? Maybe she smelled something bad about the fish that he couldn't.
He nodded and headed over to the bathing room. The door wasn't bolted, surprisingly enough, so he just entered and closed it behind him.
Aeyrin was sitting on the ground, hugging her knees, with a bucket next to her and her eyes all puffy and red. She clearly had been sick.
"Hey," he sat down next to her and put his hand on her back, stroking her slowly. "Was that fish really bad? Sorry," he chuckled a bit. "Guess I shouldn't question that nose of yours."
"Yeah… maybe," she shrugged. When he squeezed her shoulder a bit with his arm around her back though, she stopped hugging her knees and instead leaned into his arm, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her own arm around her waist. The other kept playing with the hems of the shirt she was wearing – the one he had been looking for before.
She looked a little lost in thought. Maybe even a little nervous as she nuzzled against him.
"Something wrong?" He looked at her with concern before he noticed that her eyes were more watery than before. It wasn't just from being sick then. She'd been crying.
"Maybe. Maybe not," she sighed. "I just… there's a possibility."
"Of what?" He prodded. He was so confused. What was she talking about?
"Well… I don't know. It could be the fish. But… I've been feeling strange for a while and… I don't know," she bit her lower lip nervously, as if she expected him to react poorly to what she meant. But he still had no idea what she meant.
"What are you talking about?" Was she still half-asleep or something? Or was she sick, as in really sick? Did she catch something? That didn't seem like a big deal, unless it was something similar to that disease she caught when she was passed out in the snow. Where would she catch it now?
"The way I've been feeling… I guess I could… there might be a possibility I could be…" she stammered. Alright, she was clearly worried about his reaction. What the fuck could it be that…
"Pregnant," she said as a deep determined breath left her lips. She stopped looking at him instantly.
Oh.
Oh!
Fuck. Shit. Really?
"What? No," he shook his head briskly. "Bullshit, we're being careful." Yeah, sure people said that the contraceptives didn't always work reliably in every single instance, but she'd been taking them for over two years and nothing. And besides, his family was very fertile… and… nothing.
Ugh. Shit.
"Well… I'm kind of… late. More than usual, but I thought it was the stress," she quickly tried to justify her lack of concern. "And… after tonight…" she stammered again. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just convincing myself of something that isn't true. It could be just stress or… something."
Right. Bishop only nodded absentmindedly. It kind of felt like his brain liquified and trickled out of his ear. And now there was nothing left in his head to even muster a reaction.
How did he even feel about this?
Freaked out was an apt word for it, probably. He felt like he couldn't even think about her words properly yet – like his brain was blocking those thoughts that could start thinking this through rationally. There were only the confusing emotions.
He was both terrified and… intrigued? But, fuck, this was a shitty timing. He already knew he was kind of not against the idea of maybe someday having a kid. But now? Were the Gods fucking shitting them?!
They had the Brotherhood hounding them, or he did anyway. There were dragons and shit and Alduin who might soon find out that he's not really a secret anymore and people might try to rally against him, which will piss him off royally. There was the fucking eternal night shit going on and… and so much fucking more. They didn't even have a safe place to have the kid, not even anyone to look after it if they got into some fucking shitstorm with their fucked up luck.
This was… bad. Really bad. No matter what he liked to imagine in the future, that didn't mean that it was a good thing now.
Fuck, Aeyrin looked just as freaked out. And she clearly wasn't happy about this. Why would she be? She had the same problems with it that he did, surely. Even if she thought about it already, even if she decided she would want a kid someday, this was not the day at all.
"You're… you're not sure, right?" He asked. She said 'maybe a possibility'. That was nothing. There was 'maybe a possibility' that anything could happen. A possibility that a dragon would swoop in right now and burn the inn to the ground. A possibility that a horde of Falmer would tunnel from under them and eat them.
There was 'maybe a possibility' that they were utterly fucked. But it was just 'maybe'.
"Right. Right," she nodded hurriedly. "It's probably just the stress and the delayed bleeding. That makes sense."
Yeah. Sure. Probably. Bishop didn't know how that worked exactly, but she would know, right? She said it was possible and he was going to cling to that possibility. But… what if it was what she suspected?
They couldn't really go on like they had now, could they? She couldn't be throwing herself at dragons and dangling on the edge of death every other day. Alright, that was an exaggeration, but still.
Fuck.
"We… should probably find out," Bishop sighed. He didn't know much about how normal women handled pregnancy. Rina mostly noticed she was pregnant when she already had a grown belly and anyone with half a brain could tell. She began spewing shit about Mara's blessings and making runes and her idiotic rituals to protect the baby and to 'have it grow not to be an ungrateful bastard like the rest of them'.
Fuck! Bishop couldn't raise a person! He was so fucking messed up. He had no idea how a proper childhood should go. With him as a father, the kid would be swearing and drinking the second it could talk and drink. That was basically the case for him and everyone else in the clan. He didn't know how to discipline anyone. He was always just beaten senseless. And really, taking care of Jules mostly consisted of taking any punishment in his stead. How could he actually take care of someone else properly?
Aeyrin had a fucked up childhood too. But… well, she had the temple. No matter how far some people had their sticks up their asses in there, they were still decent people who raised her in a relatively good environment. She'd be good at this. Definitely. But he'd just be fucking shit up.
"I can't raise a child," Aeyrin suddenly let out a choked up yelp with the same panicked look he felt like he had. "I'm barely an adult. I kill things that make me angry and I instantly run to you or Master Therien whenever I get a little upset. I can barely take care of myself. I can't take care of anyone else!"
Heh. It was kind of funny. Here he was thinking how she would be much better at it and she had the same doubts he had. Maybe she thought he would be good at this too.
Yeah, right. Dream on, dumbass.
"I know I said I'd think about it, but… I haven't yet and I…" she stammered again. "I'm not ready."
"Me neither," he wasn't sure if it was reassuring or more terrifying that they were both equally fucked here. Shit. They were both beginning to drown in the awful doubts and scenarios of what was wrong with all this. He had to still remind himself of one thing. "But maybe it's not true. We really gotta find out before we panic."
"Y-yeah. Yeah," she sighed. "I guess we can't do that right now, right?"
That was probably impossible. How did people find out anyway?
"Uhm… so you go to the temple or something?" He shrugged, completely out of his depth here.
"Yeah. I was not taught the tactics, only the priests did that. But I know one involves the detect life spells and another involves some herbal tinctures that react with… uhm… fluids," she flushed a little as she explained. She hoped they'd find a good mage to find out.
"Huh. Brelyna did the detect life stuff," Bishop raised his brow. That was only a week ago.
"Yeah. That's true," Aeyrin smiled weakly. She didn't seem entirely convinced. Maybe because she didn't know how exactly the spell examinations worked.
They were quiet for a while, both lost in their own panicked thoughts, before Bishop finally broke the silence again. They wouldn't solve anything by sitting here and ruminating.
"Are you feeling better?" He stroked her hair gently.
"Yeah. I mean… I'm not sick anymore," she sighed. The other stuff she was feeling bad about wouldn't just go away now.
"Come on, let's go back to bed. We'll see what we can find out tomorrow."
It was for the best.
Maybe tomorrow they'd realize they were worried for nothing.
…
Dawnstar wasn't ideal for what they needed.
There was no temple, but they found out from the innkeeper that the court wizard took care of any injuries in the mines. They had to call for help from Winterhold after the dragon attack though. She wasn't primarily trained in restoration and she couldn't handle magical burns, deep frostbite and other more serious injuries.
But she was their best bet. That is unless they wanted to go to the Hall of the Vigilant. That was not an option though. The only way they could show themselves there was if Aeyrin was cured, and even then it might be risky if they didn't believe her.
So, right after breakfast, which only made Aeyrin queasy again, they went to the White Hall to see the wizard.
Unfortunately, that action did not let them avoid anyone else but the person they needed.
"Dragonborn," the Jarl, Skald as Bishop told her before, addressed Aeyrin the second they entered. "I heard you are in town. A little late, aren't you?" He scoffed.
What a lovely introduction. Of course he would point out the dragon attacks. Bishop said he was kind of a dick, judging by the rumors. He was right.
"Jarl Skald," she nodded in greeting. At least she could be polite. Well… maybe. "The dragons don't exactly let me know where they want to attack next."
The man raised his brow at her and she was kind of angry just then about her sharpened sight. Before she knew how to focus on these heightened senses, she wouldn't have seen this all the way across the large hall.
"Shame there's not more of you then," the Jarl scoffed. "But I suppose the Gods enjoy delivering only the bare minimum to us."
'Bare minimum'? He really was a dick.
"What brings you before me?" He asked, despite the fact that he she was not really 'before him'. In fact, she was as far away from him as she could be in this place.
"I'm here to see your court wizard," she sighed. Please, let that be the end of this conversation.
"Regarding?" He prodded.
"A private matter," Aeyrin growled. She was definitely not telling him. She was not telling anyone she didn't need to. Gods, she hoped the court wizard would at least be a reasonable woman. That was another issue they had.
Jarl Scald only scoffed and pointed to a door at the side of the hall.
Good. That was that. As they walked into the side room and closed the door, they found themselves alone there in a small chamber filled with various potions, soul gems and other things all magical all over the shelves and cupboards. But there was also another door in the room.
Before they could call the wizard, Bishop grabbed Aeyrin's arm to stop her from knocking or even approaching the second door.
"So, priests have some vow or shit that they can't spread shit about the conditions of the people they heal, right?" He whispered. It was a big concern. If this suspicion proved to be true, the last thing they needed was for people to know. Sure, they would know eventually, but… not just yet.
"Clerics do," she nodded, though admittedly, it was more based on circumstances. Sometimes they needed to consult priests or family members or such. They couldn't observe that entirely. It wasn't even a vow to the Gods – not like the vows to heal and try to live by the commands. It was more a service to the Church. "She's not a priest though. We'll have to convince her to keep it to herself."
Bishop grumbled under his breath. This was gonna be a gamble. But there was still hope that this would all turn out alright. Aeyrin wouldn't be pregnant and there would be no rumor to spread.
Aeyrin walked over to the second door and knocked. It only took a moment before a Breton woman emerged, all hidden in pale green robes and cloak – in the colors of Dawnstar.
"Oh, hello," the woman nodded at them. "If you require potions to restock, I would really recommend The Mortar and Pestle. Frida is a very talented alchemist." She probably assumed as much, based on their adventuring reputation, if she recognized them. She didn't show any note of surprise at seeing 'the Dragonborn' there. Then again, they'd been in town for three days already. Everyone surely knew by now.
"Actually, we're not here for that. We heard you act as the town's priest?" Aeyrin broached the subject. Gods, she was nervous. She would have to somehow ensure that the woman wouldn't tattle even before she found out the truth. But maybe she didn't even know how to check.
"Yes, I have been practicing my restoration magic to help the people of Dawnstar. It is… better than using magic for destruction," the woman sighed. "Do you need a healer's attention?" She looked them both up and down critically, searching for anything that might be wrong with them.
"Yes," Aeyrin nodded. "Uhm… we just… need to make sure that… that our conversation will remain private."
"Oh!" The woman chuckled a little suddenly. "You are here for that kind of treatment. Of course, my dears, social diseases are diseases like any other. There's nothing to be ashamed of. But I understand that people love rumors like these, especially about… well… it wouldn't be good for morale in these trying times, I suppose."
Oh Gods. This was already embarrassing.
"It's… it's not that…" Aeyrin bit her lower lip nervously.
"So you'll keep this to yourself?" Bishop asked impatiently. Finding out that the Dragonborn was pregnant would definitely not be good for morale either.
"You have my word," the Breton nodded. "Now, tell me what's wrong."
"Well…" Aeyrin shuffled on her feet uncertainly. "I… I've been feeling a little strange lately and I thought… I just need to find out if I'm…" Gods, she couldn't even bring herself to say it. The thought alone made her anxious again.
"Pregnant," Bishop sighed, resigned to get the word out for her. They needed to find out. There was no point in delaying.
"Oh. I see," the Breton scowled a bit. "I understand… that… complicates things, surely. You lead a life of constant danger and now the prophecy…" she mumbled mostly to herself.
"Yeah, it's shitty timing. We need to know for sure," Bishop retorted. He was honestly kind of disappointed that he wasn't more excited. He expected that he would be, aside from the obvious fears and trepidations. But this really couldn't have come at a worse time. He already knew he would be even… happy. But not yet. He understood Aeyrin completely, despite the fact that her previous shock when he tried to ask her to 'risk it' made him really disappointed. He wasn't ready either.
"Come here then," the woman ushered her towards the other room and Aeyrin followed on heavy feet. She felt like she was marching for an execution or something. Was it a horrible thought? This should be a happy moment for any normal person. There was something wrong with her that she thought about it this way.
The wizard gestured to the bed there – to what was clearly her personal chambers – and Aeyrin lied down on her back nervously. Bishop went over to her and sat on the chair right by the headboard. He reached out to her in reassurance, laying his hand on her shoulder.
"What did you mean you feel 'strange'?" The wizard asked.
"I don't know. I have a strange sense of taste and smell. I can always taste metal and most smells make me queasy. I was nauseous last night and my bleeding is late," Aeyrin explained.
"Hmm," the woman nodded. "Roll up your shirt, please."
Aeyrin obliged her and exposed her stomach. That was enough, right? She wasn't sure how this examination went.
"Do you take contraceptives?" The Breton asked while she approached her.
"Yes. I take the canis root tincture. But… I had to switch for a while for… some potion I was taught how to make in Cyrodiil. We had no access to the tincture for a while. I'm sure I switched on time, but… maybe I mixed the other thing wrong?" She bit her lip. She had done that so many times before, she really didn't think she messed up. But it was possible.
"Oh," the woman widened her eyes. Crap. What did that mean? "You know, when you mix alchemical approaches, sometimes it takes more time for them to start taking full effect properly. Some concoctions clash in different physiologies."
What? She didn't know that! Nobody told her!
Why would they? She never told any alchemist that any particular method wasn't the thing she always used. But still, this was important information. They should just tell it to everyone.
The wizard placed both her hands on Aeyrin's stomach after that and they lit up with familiar dark purple magic. The detect life spell. The woman retreated her hands and studied her stomach closely afterwards.
Divines, this was it. The Breton was scowling. That wasn't good.
"The… magic of the being just began to form. Barely. But it's there," she sighed. "It's very early, maybe a month. But you are pregnant."
Aeyrin's head fell heavily on the pillow. This was it. Any remaining hope that it wasn't the case vanished.
She dared to glance at Bishop's face, but he looked just as somber. Why was it reassuring? That just made her feel like an awful person again. She knew he wanted this, at least a little. And now she was glad that it didn't seem like it anymore. What kind of person is happy that her loved one is miserable about their child?
Their child. It was… so unbelievable to even think those words. This was really happening.
A month. That sounded exactly right about when she switched back to the canis root tincture. Dammit, why did nobody tell her?! Why didn't she know this after all her studies in the temple?! Did Master Therien know? He was always a little more… open about these things with initiates. He didn't pretend like sex didn't exist like the rest of the Masters. Why didn't he give her some highly uncomfortable but educational lecture on all the precautions?
Maybe she should stop blaming other people for this…
Next thing she would be blaming Bishop, Gods forbid.
"I'm sorry, I know the timing is not ideal," the Breton sighed when she gouged their expressions. "But a new life is always a reason for joy, despite inconveniences," she tried to smile.
Easy for you to say.
Thinking that made Aeyrin feel worse again.
"Uhm… yes. Thank you for… telling us," she sighed and sat herself up once more, brushing off Bishop's hand from her shoulder. "And please, if you could really keep this between us…"
"Of course, dear," the woman nodded sympathetically. At least there was that. She sounded trustworthy.
They didn't talk anymore. The wizard didn't ask for any money, so they just walked out of there, adamantly ignoring everyone around them.
They didn't say a word to each other while they walked back to the inn. Not until they closed the door to their room behind them.
Aeyrin leaned against one of the walls and slid down numbly.
Feeling bad about this just kept making her feel worse. She didn't know what to do.
Bishop walked over to her and sat down on the ground next to her. He placed his hand on her knee and squeezed her reassuringly again. She felt like he didn't know what to say either, but he tried to sound convincing for her anyway.
"We'll handle this, sweetheart," he gave her a weak smile. "Fuck, we've handled so much shit together, don't tell me we can't handle one tiny little human. Elf, I mean." He wanted to chuckle at it, but he couldn't muster it.
Sure. One little elf that would be completely reliant on two people who were hunted and hounded. On a werewolf and a former bandit. Why did it feel like more responsibility than the whole damn Province having their lives depend on her?
They had a lot to talk about. But right then, it didn't seem like either of them could.
"Let's just… not think about it today, love," Bishop leaned his head on hers with a sigh. "We can just go on concentrating on anything else. We still have a wedding to deal with."
It was tempting to just think about the one exciting thing that awaited them. But now it seemed impossible to somehow forget about this. She appreciated his efforts, but it was pointless.
There was no denying it anymore and she was sure it wasn't that easily dismissed for him either.
No. This was something that they would have to accept. And she really just wanted to be a normal person and be happy about this.
Why couldn't she be?