Author's Note:

Apologies for the longer wait on this chapter. I ran out of chapters I had edited preemptively just when real life got busy O:)

Hope you at least enjoyed some of the side stories in the Extras book in the meantime.

Now back to the old schedule and on the road again. It's time to leave Solitude and head out for more adventures. Expected ones or not ;)

Chapter XLI – Watcher in the Scales

Their last day in Solitude came to a close and Bishop and Aeyrin headed out before sundown.

They weren't even sure why they were rushing. It was impractical to spend a night in the wilderness instead of sleeping over at the mansion one more time. Maybe it was everything that happened. Maybe it was the threat of those conspirators taking too much interest in Aeyrin overstaying her welcome. Maybe it was the palpable awkwardness between them and Jordis. Try as she might, Aeyrin could not make herself be anything but cold and curt with her. She was still angry at the stunt she pulled. And since she really didn't want to make things worse by blowing up at her, which was her usual reaction, she ended up being unexpectedly passive-aggressive. She didn't care for it, she didn't like behaving that way, but something about the situation brought it out in her.

Maybe she should have yelled.

But they didn't have to worry about that anymore.

Nor did they need to worry about the Vigilants. According to Azshan, they were here to investigate some lead on a Daedric artifact in Haafingar. Whatever that was, it likely had nothing to do with Aeyrin, fortunately. Maybe the escaped paladin didn't even tattle on her. The ones in Solitude didn't bother them at all.

So they found themselves on the road once more, leaving Solitude behind at last. Maybe for a long time this time around. Returning was not a tempting prospect.

Their next destination was no less tempting. But they were hoping not to stay for too long.

Markarth.

For the wedding tradition, they needed a piece of silver from the Markarth mines. That should be an easy task. Except that they really had no more money at all. Barely enough for an inn.

But they would figure something out when they got there.

For now, their only concern was finding a place to rest in the wilderness. And since they left Solitude pretty late, their best bet was the familiar overlook near Dragon Bridge. That way they could rest soon and not pay for a room at the inn below.

It was nice being out there in the wilderness again. Especially since the weather was getting warmer. Aeyrin got used to Skyrim temperatures again much faster than the first time. Well, she couldn't really be talking about 'getting used to' them, but it was definitely better than right after their return from down south.

The only bad thing about it was still having to be careful about all the security measures. Bishop wasn't sure if it was for the best to make their camp visibly secured as they had done near the tower where the Vigilant caught them, or have it more subtle. In the latter case, it was still no guarantee. The poison in the darts wasn't fast-acting enough to incapacitate anyone. It would just maybe wake them when the mechanism sprung. But that already happened with that mage assassin in the Rift. And if it weren't for Karnwyr, they'd be dead.

It was unnerving to think about how much their safety relied on chance and someone's incompetence.

Funnily enough though, those concerns were usually long gone when they got to enjoy the fresh air on the cliffside and the utter privacy.

It was already late into the night. Aeyrin and Bishop were just lying on their bedroll, exhausted after the whole week in Solitude and now more exhausted after enjoying their own solitude properly. They were both still breathing heavily, staring into the clear skies of the deep night.

"You know," Aeyrin talked while her breaths still attempted to calm down a bit. "Everyone's so… worried about Morthal… I wonder if… Ulfric is planning to… attack Markarth from… that fort there. Sungard, was it?"

"That's what you're thinking about right now?" Bishop let out a chuckle. "Ulfric and the war? Seriously?"

"No. I was just thinking about… Markarth. We worry about the Silver-Bloods but… there's other stuff too…" she sighed. Her breathing got back to normal soon enough, though she didn't feel like moving or doing anything at all but laying in that same position on their bedroll.

"Yeah, there's a lot of shit threatening Markarth," Bishop nodded. "But that fort is a much better position for Falkreath. And Ulfric would have to be insane to attack Markarth. It's almost as secure as Solitude. That's just a weird fucking target to start with. I'd still just worry about the Silver-Bloods."

"They're not even doing anything anymore. The bounty is done, Thongvor is just acting pissed and menacing, all he does is send threatening letters," she scoffed. Besides, they had an influential friend in Markarth who would surely not let the Silver-Bloods do anything to them. Calcelmo.

"Don't underestimate them, sweetness. You almost killed Thongvor and assholes like him hold a grudge," Bishop scowled promptly. They still needed to be very careful not to piss them off in Markarth, even after all this time.

"I know, I'm just cranky every time we go there. I liked Markarth the first time around. I wanna stay there without all… this," she sighed dejectedly.

"And so you suggest there's even more dangers there with the fort taken?" Bishop smirked. That wasn't really helping her point.

"Well… I just meant… the Silver-Bloods are really not that scary in a larger sense. There's much scarier stuff. What if a dragon attacks Markarth?" She shrugged.

"Right. Because they're even dumber than Ulfric. Markarth is a fucking fortress with the best equipped guards you can find with all that Dwemer metal and silver. There's a reason the dragons attack villages at best," he scoffed.

"And Dawnstar. Don't forget Dawnstar. And one did attack Morthal before," she pointed out. It was getting her more nervous how some of the dragons seemed to run out of patience and just… succumb to their hunting instincts.

"Dawnstar?" Bishop scowled. He remembered the attack on Morthal all too well. It was in the middle of the night, unexpected, and of course that the two of them were currently in the city. But he didn't recall any Dawnstar attacks.

"Oh! I didn't tell you. Casavir told me. Apparently when we were still in Cyrodiil, two dragons attacked Dawnstar together. They were killed but there were a lot of casualties," she explained.

"'Together'?" He repeated the word with palpable concern in his voice.

"Yeah. It's worrying, right? They could just gather more of each other, even without Alduin leading the army, and they could just attack. Anywhere. Or Alduin himself could get impatient at some point," she sighed.

"Well, he's getting a lot of souls now, seems like. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, but it should keep him preoccupied," Bishop nodded. With the way the war was going, Alduin had a veritable feast of lost souls he could 'devour'.

"Or speed up the process," Aeyrin sighed. "I'm not sure I understood Esbern correctly, but he feeds on black souls and gains enough strength to resurrect his dragons, right? So… if he's getting more souls, he might be closer to what he wants than we think."

"Princess, there's no point in obsessing over this. It's all fucking kinds of scary, but there's nothing we can do now. That Priest is on his way by now, probably, we have the Scroll, we just gotta wait until you can Shout again and we're good. Easy," he smirked.

"Right. Easy. We don't even know when I'll be able to Shout again," she grumbled. It was somehow worse now that she knew she was the only one stalling the prophecy. She and Bishop haven't even come to check if the Priest made it here unscathed. They could do that now, but… did she want to? The Priest still needed to talk to Esbern about how they could actually accomplish what they needed to.

"Love, how did we get into this again?" Bishop let out a long sigh. They both knew the situation, they both knew the scope. They had no idea what would happen now, what would come when. These were things beyond their control. What was the point in discussing them? "Come on, just forget this shit for now. You need help with that?"

With a chuckle, he rolled himself over swiftly, right on top of her, and he pinned her down with his weight. The second she let out a surprised gasp, he captured her lips in his and kissed her passionately. It took him perhaps a bit longer than necessary to hoist himself up a bit on his hands so that he wouldn't keep flattening her like that. Aeyrin had to pull away from the kiss for a while to catch her breath.

They kissed once more, for a longer time, after that, but that was all there was to it for now. A moment later Bishop flipped back onto his back next to her. Either he ended up in an uncomfortable position, or he needed a bit more time after their very recent ministrations. In any case, Aeyrin wasn't really in the mood to wait now. He had a point. They shouldn't be thinking about the doom and gloom. Not now.

She promptly moved to straddle his lap, but before she could do just that, Bishop put his hand on her thigh and pushed her back firmly.

"Hang on," he squirmed on the spot in discomfort. He snuck his hand below his back and he started to palm around for something. Maybe the bedroll shifted the rocks beneath when he moved before and now he ended up lying on a sharp stone.

After a while though, he pulled out an odd object. He actually had to dislodge it from the bedroll. It was a… dart. But it didn't look like a usual dart. It was strange. It barely had any shape and it was tiny. Bishop couldn't imagine throwing it. It was just a small, metal, arrow-like item with a hooked head and no fletching.

This was hooked into the bedroll. Where he lay just a few seconds ago. It wasn't there before. He was sure of it. And where would it come from anyway?

It was weird, but it filled him with instant dread. He held it by the end, careful not to even touch the hooked tip. He had an unpleasant feeling that it was poisoned. He had no idea how someone would shoot this thing when it was so fucking tiny, but it probably didn't matter. What mattered was that it was there suddenly. He wondered if he got luckier than he deserved when he rolled over onto Aeyrin again.

"What is that?" Aeyrin scowled, studying the small thing in his hand. She could barely see it in the dark.

"Get dressed. We're going," Bishop answered darkly. If it was possible, he would just go down by a rope to get right to Dragon Bridge. But he didn't trust the rope to stay secured now. Especially since Aeyrin couldn't keep an eye on it before jumping down and making herself ethereal. Besides, leaving her up here alone watching a rope was not an option. Neither of them could be alone right now.

He reached out for his pack, tossed the strange dart inside and grabbed his bow. He promptly notched an arrow, though he didn't aim the weapon anywhere. He was just ready to. One sound. One movement of the bushes and he would shoot.

"Bish, what's going on?" Aeyrin gave him a startled look and she promptly grabbed the blanket bundled by her feet to cover herself. She suddenly felt so exposed. Watched. Someone was here? What was that thing in Bishop's hand?

This was not any sort of a weapon the Vigilants would use. Was it even a weapon at all? But he wasn't taking any chances.

Suddenly Bishop spotted something. A very faint light, hidden by bushes and trees. If he hadn't been so alert, he never would have seen it. But he knew what it was. A purple light. An invisibility spell.

Bishop didn't hesitate. He let his arrow loose right into that area. He did hear the sound of it hitting something wooden though, even though he didn't see all that well in the dark. Fuck. It must have hit a tree. Not the person hiding there. If anyone was hiding there.

Maybe he ran. Muffled, he could run. But something could still be heard. If he snapped a branch, it would still be heard.

'He'. Why did Bishop assume that? He imagined only one thing in his assailant. A green Argonian.

They got so fucking cocky, leaving Solitude. They knew this could happen, but they assumed that the assassin would just leave, reluctant to waste time on waiting for them to move their sorry asses out of the city.

But maybe he did just that.

Fuck, this was nerve-wracking. Aeyrin didn't question him further as he notched another arrow. She promptly began to feel around for her discarded clothes while Bishop waited for another sign – a sound, a light.

He stayed ready, but Aeyrin's shuffling was disturbing his senses. She couldn't help it, of course. But it still made this more difficult. And after a while, Bishop did hear a soft noise. But it could have just as well been the wind. Or just the usual noises of the woods.

Fuck. Muffled people were the worst. He couldn't hear that fucking Vigilant in the snow and he couldn't hear this person either. But while Aeyrin was still making soft noises with her clothes, he did overhear something. A snap of wood. Again. He still wasn't sure if it was anything, but he shot into the direction promptly.

Nothing.

Fuck.

What were they supposed to do about an opponent he wasn't even sure was there. Or where he was. Or who. Shit, this was frustrating. And the wood felt both uncomfortably quiet and teeming with too many noises around. Bishop had wasted four arrows by the time Aeyrin was done dressing and donning her armor on. She let Bishop stand up from the bedroll and just stand there naked with his bow drawn in a surely weird display, but what else was there to do? She needed to pack up their camp, disarm the traps, and she also readied his own clothes and armor so that he could get dressed after everything was done.

Bishop was too confused from all the sounds. There was really not much else they could do though. There was no way in the Void they were staying here and no way in the Void they were going to sleep while there was likely someone around.

Aeyrin kept quiet the entire time, but Bishop could tell that she was beyond confused. She probably put some things together from his behavior, but she didn't see the strange dart properly and she didn't know what paranoid scenarios were running through his head.

She only nodded at him when everything was ready. She brandished her mace and shield and stood guard diligently while Bishop put back his bow. She positioned herself properly to deflect any projectiles from him too, with her shield raised. And the glittering magical crystals of her equipment provided an excellent distraction. They would detract anyone's gaze from anything else in the darkness. All Bishop could see ever since she pulled out her armor were those crystals in his peripheral vision as well. It was an effective design for what the armor was supposed to do – attract attention while Bishop could strike from the shadows.

He really hurried with donning his equipment. He was ready in no time and the two of them didn't hesitate any longer. They needed to leave. They needed to get somewhere safe.

Fortunately for them, there was a safe place right below.

…

The moment they entered Dragon Bridge, they finally managed to let out a breath and sheathe their always readied weapons.

The first agent that Bishop saw, he rushed towards and he instantly told her to be on the lookout for anyone lurking around. And then, it was time to talk to Maro. It was really fortunate that they were so close to this place when this happened.

It took a while for Maro to see them – apparently he was asleep. But eventually they were led into his office and they could tell him exactly what happened.

Maro sat there with a pondering expression on his face as he carefully inspected the small dart in his hand. He kept turning it over, studying it, but he was clearly careful not to touch the tip. Bishop had the same instinct before.

The Commander had been yawning through their recounting from the start, but now he seemed fully awake, alert and worried.

"This is troubling," he sighed. "I can assure you that this is poisoned, meant to kill. Possibly instantly."

Bishop shuddered at his words. Such fucking dumb luck he had. If he hadn't leaned towards Aeyrin at that very second, he might have been dead already. But how was Maro so sure?

"What even is that? How do you shoot it? Is it for a crossbow? It seems too fucking tiny for crossbow. And too tiny for anyone to throw properly," Bishop scowled. He couldn't imagine throwing anything so tiny. It would probably slip from his fingers.

"A crossbow?" Maro smirked. "No, I don't think it's anything like that. It is too small to throw effectively, but we suspect this is from a weapon of a similarly… primitive design. Primitive but effective."

Bishop and Aeyrin shared an uncertain look. He knew the weapon. And he said 'we'. They studied such darts before with the Penitus Oculatus?

Soon enough, Maro began to rummage around in a drawer in his desk before he pulled something out – it was a long and narrow tube. A straw. He only grinned at their confused expressions as he plopped the tiny dart into the hollow of the tube and placed it against his lips. He aimed at the wall on the side and a second later, with a strong exhale of his breath, the dart flew out at an impressive speed, clattering against the stone wall.

"A simple weapon, really. Easy to carry, light, very subtle and most of all silent. An old Argonian design, apparently," he explained when he put the tube back.

"Argonian. Right," Bishop scowled.

"Yes, you've got the right idea," Maro nodded somberly. He reached into the drawer once more and pulled out a pouch. He opened it wide enough for them to see the contents – there were many such darts, exactly the same. "This is what we retrieved from the Dainty Sload. The ship that was struck by the Argonian assassin, as you've discussed with my agent when you were in Solitude. It appears our perpetrator decided to follow you when you left the city. Or perhaps he found you by accident."

"Fuck, we worried this might happen," Bishop growled.

"It's worse," Maro sighed. "They've been very… active lately. Something changed. There was this… the attack on the Dainty Sload, while only a few days before a hunter, a meat vendor, from Whiterun was murdered, clearly by an assassin. And the housecarl of Jarl Siddgeir was killed by the Brotherhood as well recently. We never had so many reports in such a short time."

That was odd. Something must have changed if the Brotherhood was so active. It only made everything much more worrisome. Maybe it was just a coincidence though. Nothing changed, right? Cicero and the Night Mother were still here, weren't they? Maro would say something if they weren't. Maybe that did piss off the Brotherhood though.

"So… what does that mean for us?" Aeyrin scowled. She wasn't sure what it implied – that the Brotherhood was going to be more relentless now?

"It means… that most of my men are investigating further in Solitude, Falkreath and Whiterun. And that the rest of them are watching the other major cities carefully to prevent more incidents," Maro shook his head regretfully.

"So… you have no men to help us," Bishop's frown deepened.

"I can offer you shelter here at the barracks before my men return. I… would probably not recommend the inn. We can have it watched but… there's just not enough of us here to be comfortable with promising safety there, especially with the assassin so close. We need to watch out for the other citizens too. But here, you could stay as long as you like," the Commander smiled encouragingly.

"When will your men get back?" Aeyrin asked worriedly. How long would they exactly have to be locked up in here?

"It's… hard to say," Maro responded.

"We can't stay holed up here. We did that in Solitude and that asshole still waited for us. What would be different now?" Bishop growled.

"I have no idea. I don't have a better plan, unfortunately. If I had more men at my disposal, I would send them ahead so that you could lure the assassin into an ambush, but… this happened at a really inopportune time. We still need to protect the town. Protect our base, especially while we hold something important to them," the Commander explained.

"So… you got nothing. We can't stay here indefinitely," Bishop snarled. He knew that this wasn't really Maro's fault. The agents were clear, they would help, they would try to protect them as much as they could. But they had the whole Province to protect from these people. And Maro offered them safe harbor. The fact that they didn't want to be stuck here was a whole other matter. Bishop kinda lied. They could stay here at least for a while. But it was just a shitty prospect.

They knew they might be followed. And there was still one thing bugging him about the attack.

"There was just one. He only shot one of those darts and I must have moved just then. Why not try another? It was a while before I found it," he shook his head. He was on top of Aeyrin for a while after the motion – completely exposed and vulnerable to such things.

"My theory? He ran out," Maro pointed to the full pouch meaningfully. There were a lot of these darts there. It was… possible. Again, that sounded so fucking lucky. "I wish I had better news for you, or more information. But I don't. All I can offer is shelter. For however long you like. But I can't offer my men this time. At least not now."

"What do we do?" Aeyrin looked at Bishop worriedly. She didn't really communicate anymore with Maro. There was nothing more to say. She knew it wasn't his fault, but she still hoped that coming here would somehow… solve everything.

"I guess we go," Bishop sighed. What else could they do? They couldn't even afford a carriage. And he wasn't even sure if he would be comfortable on that now either. Not when the assassination attempt was so fresh.

"Where are you headed? If we could at least make sure you safely reached your destination…" Maro gave them a hopeful look. It was nice that he seemed to actually care about his allies, even if they didn't take him up on his offer of help.

"Markarth," Aeyrin answered. There was no reason to keep this from the Commander.

"I will let my men know. At least stay for the night though. The assassin might hopefully think you'll be staying for longer and give up. It could have been a coincidental meeting as well," Maro continued.

Well, he had a point. One night was fine and it was the safest option. Besides, they were really tired. Nothing seemed to follow them on the track back down, but they couldn't be sure. Shouldn't be sure. It was best to sleep on it. And maybe the sun would chase the assassin away too. His black armor would be much easier to spot.

It may have been too much to hope for that the asshole would just… go away.

But they hoped nonetheless.

…

Despite being promised safety, Aeyrin and Bishop didn't sleep easy.

The barracks had two other people sleeping in them, but instead of the proximity of the agents creating some security, the paranoia won over every time. Bishop even began to suspect the agents of being in cahoots with the Brotherhood. Maybe Cicero got to them. Who knew?

Aeyrin found herself being woken up by Bishop's constant movements, when he flinched at every sound and flicker of light. Then again, she wasn't entirely sure if it wasn't the sounds waking her up too before the motions. She was just as nervous as him.

In the morning, they left for the wilderness again after a small breakfast at the barracks.

They were careful. Aeyrin always had her hand on the hilt of her mace and Bishop took them through the most elaborate and difficult paths he could find. There was a lot of scaling and wading and getting tangled in greenery. It was a good idea. But it was also a little counterproductive. Aeyrin had a lot of trouble with some of the obstacles, especially in her heavy armor. She couldn't take that off though. That was just asking for trouble.

Through all that time, they only stopped once. Just to take a brief breath and get some lunch. They planned on only grabbing some rations, but the place they found to stop by was pretty perfect.

It was a hunter's rest, just like their favorite one near Whiterun. It was perched atop of a cliff, hard to reach, and it already had a fire roaring there. Some hunters must have been there before them. The grass around the fire was trampled as if a few people had just been sitting around it.

It was a good place to stop. Through their whole trek, Bishop did not notice anything or anyone following. No strange sounds, nothing to see, no flashes of purple light and no unpleasant feelings of being watched.

It was almost a little calming. Not enough, but a little.

Aeyrin still kept vigilant watch with her mace ready while Bishop made their food.

It was quite nerve-wracking. But they only had to hold on until they got to Markarth. Or so they hoped. Surely the assassin wouldn't keep waiting for them there, right?

Bishop turned the meat over on the fire with a more hurried motion than usual. Or maybe his hands were shaking a little. He was always on edge. And whenever Aeyrin shuffled on her feet, disturbing the silence, or whenever the fire crackled a bit louder than usual, he flinched. That dart really freaked him out.

He really fucking hoped that the Argonian had no more of those. It did make sense though. Why else wouldn't he strike again? He had every opportunity before Bishop rolled over and noticed it.

And it was somewhat comforting that nothing else happened since then. Maybe going to Dragon Bridge scared that asshole.

"Is it ready yet?" Aeyrin interrupted the silence after a while.

"Not unless you wanna eat it half-raw," Bishop shook his head. He got why she asked. It was uncomfortable being here. The sooner they could get on the move again, the better. It was, wasn't it? He really made sure to make the treks hard to follow, even if it took them longer as well.

"We should have just taken the rations," she sighed. She was getting more and more antsy. She couldn't help it. And she could tell that Bishop was too.

"It's gonna be done soon. Soon-ish," he observed the meat critically. Not soon enough though.

A moment of silence passed again, but then, another sound interrupted it. This time though, it wasn't a simple clank of armor, tussle of grass or crackling of the flames.

There was a loud noise that came from the cabin itself. As if something fell over from one of the shelves there. Bishop and Aeyrin instantly became alert at that – they couldn't see inside, even though the door to the cabin was open, but it could have been the wind. Though it wasn't particularly windy just then. Not enough to knock something over, not even enough to affect the flames too much.

Something was in there.

Aeyrin didn't hesitate. She marched into the cabin promptly and she began to swing her mace around. It was a small space – if someone invisible was there, she would hit them.

But nothing happened. There was nobody there. She only noticed one of the old communal wooden tankards on the floor. It really did fall over. But it couldn't have been the wind. Maybe it was on the edge of the shelf or something and it just… happened.

Bishop watched Aeyrin in the cabin with worry etched all over his face, but it was clear that the assassin wasn't there. In fact, it became abundantly clear only a second later.

Bishop felt something move by his side. He didn't see anyone, he didn't hear anyone, but he felt it. So uncomfortably close. He lashed out in an instant, flailing his arms around to chase away the person, just as he felt something cold on the side of his neck.

"Fuck!" He hissed as a burning pain spread across his neck, but fortunately his elbow managed to hit something and the momentum broke. The cut wasn't deep enough. He instantly grabbed at the thin air around, but he didn't manage to feel anything there. He tried though. The assassin was here. He needed to get rid of him. And he tried to punch and kick all around himself in order to hit something.

Finally, his foot collided with something. Hard. He was surprised at how big of a force he managed to put into it. He heard a grunt, then some rumbling of rocks and pebbles. If he imagined it right, he kind of… kicked the guy towards the very edge of the cliff they were on. Was it possible that he made him fall?

Aeyrin was already by his side, desperately looking around, still holding her mace and shield ready.

She didn't see anything. Anyone. Of course she didn't though. Dammit, she was so stupid. Why did she fall for that trick with the tankard? It was clearly done just to distract her and prevent her from protecting Bishop quickly enough. This was insane. The assassin was actually ready for any moment of respite.

"Do you know where…?" She asked in a careful whisper. Even that would disturb Bishop's concentration on listening to any sound around, but she needed to ask.

"I… may have kicked him… down," Bishop scowled as he clutched his bleeding neck. It just stung a little, nothing too bad. The worse part was that the assassin got close enough to do that at all.

Aeyrin didn't need to be told twice. She marched towards the edge of the cliff and peered down.

"No! Don't!" Bishop barked at her. What if that asshole was still here? What if he pushed her?!

But Aeyrin stepped back a second later, unharmed.

"Nothing's there," she shook her head. Fortunately, there wasn't too much grass and bramble down below to hide anything. And she really tried to concentrate on her senses, on her sight.

"He's invisible," Bishop hissed angrily. He didn't mean to sound like he was taking it out on her, but the frustration seeped through regardless.

"If he's dead, he's not invisible," Aeyrin gave him a confused look. The spell would dissipate, right?

"Why? Equipment has no soul or magic but it can stay invisible. Why not a corpse?" He growled in exasperation. He saw it himself. When Gabriella attacked him in Windhelm, she dropped her dagger. That weapon stayed invisible for a while after she let go of it, all on its own, until the effects of the spell ended naturally.

"I… uhm…" Aeyrin stammered. He… had a point. Maybe. She hadn't thought about it, she just assumed. She didn't know much about how illusions worked after all.

"Fuck," Bishop muttered again under his breath. "Let's just go. We need to get out of here." He wasn't taking any more chances. Fuck the food. Fuck the corpse, whether it was there or not. He wasn't gonna wait around to check. They needed to try and lose this guy in the wilderness again. They needed a much safer and less open space.

"At least let me take a look," she gestured to his neck, but he only shook his head with a slight hiss of pain accompanying the motion.

"No time. Later. It's nothing. Let's go."

"Bishop, it could be poisoned!" Aeyrin gaped at him.

Fuck! He didn't even think of that. Why didn't he think of that? Fuck, this was going bad. But… the poison on those darts was instant, as Maro said. He would be dead by now if the blade had been poisoned too. He just had to take his chances. And besides, what could they do if he was poisoned? Aeyrin could ease some of his symptoms if he was, if he got nauseous or his muscles ached or such. But there was no treating a poison without an antidote.

"Nothing we can do. We can't wait here. Let's go. Now," he growled again. He realized how angry he sounded with her, but he hoped she knew it wasn't directed at her at all. This situation was fucking insane. That guy was persistent and really fucking subtle to sneak up on him like that. Nothing was safe. Could they even make it to Markarth like this?

It was a somewhat novel concept for him, which he didn't really care for.

He really didn't like being the prey in the wilds instead of the hunter.

…

The nearby cave was quiet and deserted.

At least it looked that way.

What wouldn't Bishop do for that necklace that Brelyna had him try out once – the one that showed everyone as a colorful blob. At least he could see if someone was here.

But they chose a very small alcove in a cavern complex – one they could hole up in with their traps and still in their armors, ready for battle.

They needed their rest, they couldn't go on like this. But there was no other way.

They never had to resort to this. No matter the dangers they faced, they never actually had to do this. But tonight, after spending a few more hours traipsing around the worst and most tiresome 'roads' in the wilderness, they had to do this just to keep sane. And safe. Somewhat.

Bishop took the first watch while Aeyrin could catch a few moments of sleep. They never slept separately like this – they never had to. Maybe they should have sometimes, like when the other assassin attacked them in the Rift, or when they were sleeping in Dwemer ruins for the first time, oblivious to the fact that Falmer could be lurking in every tiny crevice. But now, he felt like this was all much more dangerous. No matter the precautions they were already taking.

Aeyrin tried to sleep in her heavy armor. There was no fire, no food, just a lone bedroll in a tiny alcove of a larger cave. She tried not to toss and turn, tried to be silent for Bishop's sake so that he could concentrate on the sounds, but it was hard. She couldn't sleep. Not only was she uncomfortable, but the nerves got to her. At least Bishop didn't seem to be poisoned. And she managed to heal his wound while he sat there with his bow in his hand and an arrow ready to strike. He would be like this for hours. And then she would be there too, in his stead when he got his rest, ready to strike. She had to be much more careful though. Clearly Bishop was the target and once he wasn't vigilant anymore, the assassin would likely try again.

She really hoped that the Argonian fell to his death at the cliff. But more and more, she was starting to lose that hope. The armor and the worries weren't the only thing keeping her up. As she tried to stay still and silent, she concentrated on her senses like she practiced, like Kodlak told her to practice. It was just a good use of her time. But the more she did it, the more she could swear she could actually… smell something.

It wasn't the usual. Not the mixture of leather, forest and… Nord, that she was used to from Bishop. Not the mustiness of the cave or the faint scent of mushrooms and moss. Those were all so strong around here. But the more she tried to differentiate between them to practice, she actually smelled something else. Something that she couldn't place. Something like… stale water.

That could be coming from a more distant part of the cave. But she couldn't help but feel like it was something closer.

She still tried to concentrate on it as suddenly, another sound disturbed them. A loud clank of something metal against stone. Aeyrin instantly sat up from the bedroll and stared into the darkness of the cave.

Bishop's growl echoed through the chambers, and then she heard the distinct sounds of an arrow swishing through the air and clattering against the stone. Then one more. And one more. Clearly none hit anything.

This was just nerve-wracking.

He was here. Again. They just knew it. There was nothing else this could be. Not after all this.

It was like he was taunting them. The second Bishop stopped shooting, there was another clank. This hunter clearly enjoyed playing with his prey.

Bishop was getting so fucking frustrated. And kind of terrified. This guy was… beyond his capabilities, apparently. Beyond both of theirs. He didn't know what else to do about him. What were they supposed to do? They shouldn't have left the barracks in Dragon Bridge. Even this shit wouldn't dare to go inside the enemy's base, right?

He shot another arrow, in vain. He knew it would be in vain. But what else was there to do? But then, he heard something. Not in the corridor leading from their alcove, but behind him. Aeyrin started clanking with her armor especially loud.

He looked back only briefly, only enough to spot what she was doing. She was… taking off her armor? Seriously? Why?

"What are you doing?" He hissed. She needed to be protected. Even if the assassin hadn't targeted her, that was no guarantee of anything.

"I'm sick of this, I'm not letting him near you again," she growled. She was feeling guilty enough for what happened at the hunter's rest. She would not let it happen again. The traps wouldn't protect Bishop – the poison on the darts wouldn't act right away. And she was at the end of her rope. She couldn't sleep, and she couldn't think of any way to protect him from this relentless creep.

But maybe someone else could.

Never in her life she would have thought that she would do this. Not like this. Not… voluntarily. Not without being drunk or coerced by Bishop. Not as her own idea.

But as hard as it was to accept, she knew now that that monster wouldn't attack Bishop. It would protect him.

Bishop's eyes widened when he looked back again and he noticed her take off her jewelry and clothing. He didn't return his vigilant gaze back towards the corridor that soon this time and he only gaped at her incredulously.

"Are you… serious?" Was she really going to turn? Out of her own volition?

"Disarm the traps, please," she only instructed him curtly while she continued to remove her clothes. Bishop obeyed, but unlike the other times when he convinced her to transform, he looked… disturbed now.

"You're not invincible like that," he whispered, clearly in an attempt to keep the assassin from hearing his words as he carefully removed the poisoned darts from the two mechanisms. He did that only with one hand. His other one still had his bow ready.

"I can find him like that," she retorted. She was pretty sure, at least. She suspected she knew now what that smell was. It was him. The assassin. And if she could smell it a little in her elven form, the wolf would zero in on it instantly. And it could hunt the assassin down. They were in the middle of nowhere, and while she still worried about hurting Bishop, even though only a little, he had his bow ready to stop her if she tried. And they had no better idea anyway.

Bishop finally removed the tripwires lining the entrance to the alcove and she was ready. He was still giving her the occasional worried look, but she only nodded at him in determination.

And soon, he saw her body transform once more.

The familiar werewolf with the golden fur stood before him again. And she reminded him of the very first time he had seen her like this.

She looked… livid.

She let out a furious growl and she sprung forth, he barely managed to step away from her path as she ran, fast, deeper into the cavern. Chasing something.

He had no idea what to do. He still had his bow ready, but she was too fast to keep up with. And it wasn't even safe to keep up with her. So he just… listened. Listened to the panting and pitter-patter of heavy paws carrying through the cave. Sometimes it was more distant, sometimes it was closer. He heard her running down all the hallways. She was so fast. How was she still running? How hadn't she caught him yet?

Then, a different sound alerted him.

A sudden high-pitched whimper.

Fuck!

Bishop didn't pay much mind to being careful anymore. He just ran. He ran towards the sound no matter what could be going on around him, where the assassin could be lurking. He didn't have to run far though. Soon enough, he caught the sight of the werewolf on the ground, just as she turned back into an elf.

He rushed towards her and then he noticed the gaping wound all across her shin. She cried out from the pain again, probably also in shock. She may not have remembered anything.

"I'm… I'm fine," she quickly reassured him when he knelt by her side. She only needed a moment to collect herself. "I… don't know what happened… I don't remember. I think… the werewolf couldn't run like this." Her hand lit up with magic instantly and she placed it on her shin.

Bishop wanted to hug her or something, but now reality was creeping in again and he readied his bow instead.

"There's something… under my nails," she noted as she continued healing herself. She could feel it. Something stuck under each nail. And wet. Was it blood? She could kind of see the color in the light of her spell. "I… think I scratched him."

"Well he fucking 'scratched' you more," Bishop growled. Or 'cut' was probably a better word. "Fuck. This is insane."

Aeyrin moved her hand a bit to illuminate the ground with her spell faintly. There were bloodstains trailing away from her, further into the corridor. Kind of in the direction out of the cave. But was that something they could count on? That he would run if wounded? He was so fucking persistent, there was nothing they could be sure of.

"We need to go back to that alcove. Just… do it again, the watches and shit. We have to get some sleep," Bishop sighed. The fear and frustration made it all worse. They couldn't operate while being so tired. And they needed to do something.

He was done. Neither of them could get rid of the guy, apparently. They needed another tactic.

He needed to figure this out.

…

Aeyrin got woken up by a soft shake on her shoulder.

She didn't even notice that she fell asleep. She was back in the secured and trapped alcove, in her armor once more, trying to concentrate on her senses. She could no longer smell the stale water. That was encouraging. But it didn't feel like reassurance enough.

Still, she must have been exhausted. She was still exhausted. But at least she managed to get some shut-eye, despite not even planning on it.

Bishop was now waking her for her watch. He looked like death warmed over, even though she couldn't see too well in the dark, she could recognize the tousled hair he probably kept running his hand through in frustration. And she could somewhat see the expression and dark rings under his eyes, despite the shadowy ambiance. It was disturbing that it was so bad she could see it here. The cave wasn't entirely dark in the alcove, there was a cluster of glowing mushrooms in the corner which provided some source of light, but it was still hard to see.

"Your turn, sweetness. Be careful," Bishop whispered as she roused. He took her by the hand briefly, but then, he just moved her palm onto the cold stone beneath, away from the warm furs of the bedroll. She didn't understand it for a while, but then she felt something under her touch. A… paper?

She sat up on the bedroll and she quickly looked under the hand. There was a note. And a ring on it. Before she could ponder on it further, she peered at the note to decipher it.

.

Tomorrow, we have a fight, you get mad and we split.

I'll continue south, find me.

Check your pack.

.

She was so confused for a while. She couldn't even think about the contents of the note. She merely did as instructed and pulled her pack towards her. It clanked more than it did before, she was sure of it, and once she peered inside, she saw it. Bishop's entire supply of invisibility potions, along with the white phial.

Bishop was clearly reluctant to talk about anything, even quietly. He still thought they were in the assassin's earshot.

The ring… that was his muffling ring.

He wanted her to… stalk him.

This time actually seriously. Not only hang back in some city, trying to look inconspicuous. He wanted her to walk through the forest unseen and unheard and follow him.

What? Was that smart? The assassin would be doing the same thing. She wouldn't be faster than him, would she? Well, maybe she would manage. She wouldn't have to keep her distance from Bishop, like the assassin would. She could just… walk by his side. Invisible and silent. But how could she tell how long the potions would last?

She wanted to do anything she could to protect him. But being subtle was really not her strong suit.

Bishop must have been at the end of his rope to suggest that. He knew her weak spots well.

But she had no better idea. No better plan.

She needed to try her best for his sake. She wouldn't let that assassin hurt him no matter what. Hopefully she could ask him more about the potions subtly later. The Argonian gave her an excuse to question invisibility at least.

Gods, she felt like this would end in disaster.

But what else could they do?

…

"How can he stay invisible like that? How long does the spell last? Or the potions?" Aeyrin huffed in exasperation as they walked through the bramble and uneven terrain again.

They were lucky. Last night, nothing else happened while Bishop rested. But they had no illusions about this. The assassin was following. They knew. They didn't know how far, but Aeyrin was getting good at concentrating on the smell. It wasn't here.

But she had smelled it before when they left the cave.

He must have been around. Not near enough to alert them, maybe not near enough to alert a werewolf – he might have known how this worked. After all, Bishop had mentioned before that Karnwyr reacted to one of the assassins in Dawnstar like he did to vampires and werewolves. Maybe one of the assassins was a lycanthrope and the Argonian knew all about the senses.

But hopefully he was close enough to witness their eventual fight. They didn't agree on any details on that, they would probably just… improvise.

Bishop nodded at her as they walked forth, with their weapons always ready and every part of them alert. He realized what she was asking. She wanted to know how to properly use the potions. It was a smart question.

"Spells… no idea. Potions, usually twenty minutes, from what I've seen and used," he shrugged. There may have been more long-lasting ones, but the ones he could usually afford didn't last longer than that. And neither did the one in the white phial.

"He would have to do that so often," Aeyrin scowled. Did they even have enough potions? But hopefully after she disappeared, the Argonian would appear soon. He wasn't approaching them when they traveled, that much they noticed – probably because of the terrain and the unpredictability of the movements. He often waited for Bishop to be resting somewhere, sitting or such. Maybe they should start the fight later when it was time to rest again.

She wasn't sure what they could be fighting about. She would have to come up with something. Or maybe Bishop would. She wasn't really sure how this was supposed to go. But he didn't do anything all this time. They've been traveling for a few hours already. They were both still exhausted though. Stopping for a rest earlier than after dark wouldn't be out of the question. And maybe he had reached the same conclusions as her.

It was still too far to Markarth. But they were getting closer to Sky Haven by now. Maybe they could stop there and regroup.

But then again, leading anyone into that place was so risky. They couldn't do that to the Blades, dragging an assassin there with Gods-knew-what intentions towards… witnesses.

So they just traveled on and on. Their journey was so much longer because of the route Bishop kept choosing. So many obstacles and small cliffs to scale. They only talked a bit every now and then, still keeping up the tense and frustrated atmosphere. Which wasn't hard. They were so tense and frustrated. And so tired.

After several more hours of that, Aeyrin felt like she could smell it again. It was brief and she wasn't sure if her senses weren't playing tricks on her, but still… it was a good idea to get the ball rolling. They would need to rest again soon and it would be the best opportunity to strike.

Now… what to fight about? They had nothing to fight about.

What did people usually fight about? She didn't want to rehash their old fights, that might just be hurtful. And she couldn't just pull something out of the blue. What did ordinary couples fight about anyway?

Oh!

She thought of something. And it was even logical for her to be thinking about this with the Argonian on their tail.

"I still can't believe you really slept with one of them…" she scoffed derisively.

Bishop's eyes widened at her in surprise before he realized what was happening. He actually got worried that Aeyrin was bothered by Gabriella. She never seemed to before, aside from the fact that Gabriella was now trying to kill him.

"Do you have to drag that out now?" He growled angrily. "It's not like I knew anyway."

"Sure, you never know, but we get into these situations all the time, and surprise, surprise, it's always because of one of your old flings," she scowled. That wasn't really true. There were some unpleasant situations where the women Bishop had slept with were involved, but it wasn't as if he had an army of jilted lovers trying to make their lives difficult. Only that Neeshka girl. Gabriella didn't count. And neither did the circumstances with Susanna or Ysolda or anyone else she might have been forgetting. Bishop was not to blame about any unpleasantness rising from encountering them. But it seemed like a good thing to fight about.

"It's not my fucking fault," he snapped. "It's not like I try to find insane girls to fuck."

"So now I'm insane?" She retorted promptly. She almost felt like she noticed Bishop's lips quirk up a bit in a suppressed amused smirk at the turn.

"Maybe you are!" He stopped then, right there in the middle of their trek, making her stop too and face him. "What else would you call rehashing the same fucking thing over and over again? We've been over this so many fucking times, are you really going to hound me about everyone I fucked before you for the rest of my life?"

"I wouldn't have to if they didn't keep interfering with our lives! Now I have to walk through this place with an assassin at my back because of another one! And I can't even get any sleep," she snarled.

"You know what? You don't have to do shit! He's not after you, he's after me. Go. Leave me to deal with my own fucking mess if it bothers you so fucking much," Bishop's anger was really convincing, but she could still see the trepidation in his eyes.

"Maybe I will! It's not like you help me with mine! It's not like you didn't go gallivanting with another one of your whores just now in Solitude when I was being held by those stupid nobles!" She yelled.

At that point, Bishop's eyes went wide in shock and she instantly realized why. Gods, she was just pretending and it was the first thing to come to mind. She didn't blame him. She didn't mean it. He knew that. She tried to communicate that with a brief, very meaningful look, and fortunately he seemed to believe it.

"Fine! Go when I have a fucking lunatic killer after me, just because I didn't know you were being held somewhere instead of fucking that asshole of yours in shiny armor. Just go. Who fucking needs you?!" Bishop snarled.

Aeyrin only let out a very angry growl at him and she stomped her foot in frustration. Then, she turned on her heel quickly. She began marching away from him, making sure to keep her steps brisk and mad while Bishop was left there, staring at her in shock.

Soon, he pretended to rouse himself from it and he scowled fiercely as he watched her leave. She would be out of sight soon, hopefully, and she could likely smell the guy – she claimed as such. He needed to go slow so that she could catch up, but he couldn't make it suspicious. So he gave her some head start before he pretended to finally make up his mind and not go after her and continue onwards instead.

He hoped this was all convincing.