A dry heat in her throat woke her up.
It was worse than last night. Worse than the burning in her throat after all those drinks. She wasn't sure what in Oblivion was in that Kick, but she was probably never drinking it again.
Her head was still spinning, but now it was accompanied by a headache. And probably for the first time, she felt actually too hot in Bishop's arms. If nothing else though, she could always rely on him to make sure her pain would be eased in the morning after she'd been that drunk.
She pulled back from his embrace a bit and sat up on the bed. She didn't open her eyes yet, but she knew the sun was up, though barely. She judged that from the light behind her closed eyelids. She wasn't ready to look though yet.
Blindly, she reached out to the nightstand by her side to locate the readied tankard of water there. Bishop always made sure to do that for her and today wasn't an exception.
She downed the water instantly and her throat felt a little better for it. But it still wasn't enough.
Gods-dammit, she had to get up and get more, didn't she?
With a groan, she shuffled out of the bed and finally opened her eyes. At least it was barely dawn. The sun wasn't sharp enough to hurt her eyes yet. But the world felt blurry.
"Stop," Bishop grumbled, half-asleep. "Trap."
Wait, what? Was he talking in his sleep or did he really trap the room last night? She didn't remember him doing that, but then again, she did have black spots in memory when it came to yesterday. But it was strange that he did. He didn't do that often. She remembered the talk of that Orc though. Did it get to him this much?
She narrowed her eyes and looked at the door properly. There was a tripwire there. She was lucky he woke up. Then again, they did have the antidote if something happened. Still, it would have been a needless problem.
"I'm thirsty," she pouted. She could disarm the trap, but she was so tired.
"Come 'ere. Take my water," Bishop murmured. He still didn't even open his eyes as he lay there splayed on the bed.
She didn't want to take his water. He would need it. But they might still have some in their waterskins from the road. She promptly walked over to her pack and rummaged in before she found it. There was almost half of it left.
She drank it all in one go. That hit the spot. Now she could go back to bed and sleep in a bit more.
She crawled back into the bed and snuggled into Bishop's arms again. She still felt a bit heated, but the contact was pleasant despite that. As she did though, it seemed that in spite of her intent to sleep more, Bishop began to stir.
He sat up a bit, as much as he could with his arm still under her head, and he reached out for his own water. He finished his drink with a relieved 'aaah' and then plopped down on the bed again.
"Fuck. That Kick is awful," he chuckled a little.
"Never again," she murmured. Everything hurt. Everything was blurry and spinny.
"We say that every time at the cornerclub," he smirked. It was never true. Right now he felt like this would be, but he knew it wouldn't. But that wasn't important. He shifted to move to his side, facing her, and he slowly brushed her hair from her face.
She flinched. Again.
"So… princess," he sighed. "What do you remember?"
"Some… things. Water, a game," she tried to focus on the hazy memories, but as Bishop continued to stroke over the left side of her face, she realized what he was asking. She remembered what he said. At least she hoped she remembered all of it. "I remember… our talk. I'm sorry for… being so insecure."
"You don't have to apologize," he sighed. "Just… don't be," he chuckled a bit. "You don't need to be. Not with me."
She didn't answer, but she snuggled closer to him gratefully. She was really glad she remembered how silly her worries had been.
"You remember something else?" Bishop prodded. "Like some… plans for the morning?"
"Yeah," she giggled, her voice muffled against his skin. Although… "I'm so tired."
"Yeah, me too," he smirked. "More sleep and then we spend the rest of the morning in bed?"
That sounded perfect. Hopefully the hangover would be more manageable by then.
They were really overdue.
…
Bishop and Aeyrin got to spend their morning just as they planned.
The mood was certainly eased after that. Although their pesky hangovers, especially Aeyrin's, still wouldn't entirely go away, they managed to fight through them and enjoy their time together. And after lunch, and after suffering countless smirks by Jonna, they decided to leave Morthal.
They had somewhere to be after all.
Not that getting back home was that pressing, but they wanted to pick up Karnwyr at least as fast as possible.
They continued on the northern road as usual. By the time they passed Dawnstar, the sun was coming down again. But they had a good place to call it a night. Nightgate Inn was just down the road.
That inn was always pleasantly quiet and that night was no exception. There was no one there, except for that Orc that was always there for some reason. He may have been living there in the basement. And then there was the innkeeper, of course, whom the two of them had a… complicated dynamic with. It wasn't always certain whether he was annoyed with them, or amused when he still recalled their more turbulent previous visit a long time ago when they first got chastised for being too loud in bed and then had a pretty unfortunate and loud fight.
He always quipped about them behaving themselves.
But Bishop and Aeyrin were used to ignoring his jabs.
It was a very pleasant evening otherwise. They could almost feel like they were alone in the wilderness, except for the ever-present company behind the bar that they adamantly ignored. And the warm bath and food without effort, of course. That was always a bonus.
"So, princess, made up your mind yet?" Bishop asked as he finished his meal. "Do you feel like staying home for a while, or do we get on the road again?" They'd discussed this a little on the way here, but neither of them were sure what they preferred yet. They were both eager for adventure before, but the one with Serana and Isran was a lot more than they bargained for. The question was, would it be better to go on an adventure on their own again, just like they preferred, or would they get back into their honeymoon bliss for a while?
"I don't know," she sighed. She still wasn't sure what was better. Safety of their home sounded wonderful, but she also felt like more action and the road might get them preoccupied with other things than their recent worries again. And that just reminded her… "Do you think Serana will let us know when she's back? Did you tell her to?"
"No," Bishop shook his head. Was he supposed to? It would probably be nice to know that she made it out of Oblivion alive. Or undead. Just thinking that made him shiver though. Not the undead part, he was kind of fine with that by now for the most part, but the Oblivion shit was still bone-chilling. He didn't tell her to check in though. And he doubted that Serana would do so on her own. "Well… she'll let us know when she needs Dexion at least."
"True. She might have all the Scrolls soon," Aeyrin nodded thoughtfully.
"Well… that depends, doesn't it?" Bishop sighed. It all depended on how she would play Harkon. He hoped that his idea about the Imperial Library was a good one and not gonna doom her. It seemed good to him, but he didn't know her father at all, aside from what he'd seen in the Castle.
Aeyrin couldn't help but be both concerned and relieved. It was true that the thought that they wouldn't have to deal with this prophecy for a while was comforting, but she hoped the mission in Oblivion went well.
"Let's not worry about Serana, princess," he sighed. He said it partially because he didn't want to worry about it anymore, and partially because he was a bit uncomfortable discussing this with the innkeeper obviously listening again.
"Alright," she nodded. "I guess we can just… go home and decide there. We can spend a night or two and see." She plopped the last piece of venison into her mouth and put down her utensils, done with her meal too.
Bishop smiled at her surprisingly affectionately at that. It wasn't that unusual for him, but she did wonder what elicited that smile just now.
"What?" She smiled back, tilting her head at him curiously.
"Nothing. Just… fuck, sometimes it's still hard to believe. Hearing you say that so fucking casually. 'Go home'," he chuckled. A while ago, that was just a distant dream for him. And before that, not even that. Something so fucking inconceivable.
"It feels good," she sighed wistfully. "For so long, I wanted to find some home here, when I… when I knew I had to stay. I was happy with you being that home, and you still are but… having that place, it makes it all so much better." She liked imagining them relaxing there between adventures, in some time when they wouldn't have to worry about assassins and dragons and prophecies, preferably. She liked imagining them traveling all over the world, to other Provinces, new adventures, and then coming back to that place that would always be there for them.
"Yeah. I didn't think I'd actually find a real home like this. Ever. Not even when me and Jules got the place did it feel like it would ever be that," he nodded. "Feels fucking great."
Aeyrin reached out to grab his hand on the table and squeezed it affectionately. It was a nice moment. It would have been even nicer if it weren't interrupted.
"Anything else?" The innkeeper was by their table without them even noticing. And Bishop promptly answered with an annoyed growl.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" He sighed.
"Doing what?" The innkeeper smirked. He knew what he was doing. It was like he was messing with them.
"Ugh. Got a bottle of something for the room?" Bishop promptly asked. It was a good time to get from the common room and to get some privacy.
"Well… got some… mead," the man shrugged. "Got juniper mead. And alto wine." He clearly wasn't very stocked up. But who could blame him? He usually barely had any customers. How this inn was still open was a mystery.
"I'd take the juniper mead," Aeyrin smiled. That stuff was nice.
"Just get me Honningbrew," Bishop sighed. He wasn't sure what he wanted – he just wanted a drink they could take to their room so they wouldn't have to stay here for the rest of the evening.
"I gotta go to the basement for the juniper stuff," the man sighed, eliciting a surprised expression from Aeyrin.
"Is… that a problem?" She asked. Why did he say it like it was a chore? Why offer it if he didn't want to give it to them?
"Fine, I guess. Since you're gonna be saving the world or some shit," he smirked at her. Ugh. That was the last thing they needed. It was surprisingly pleasant to not have someone mention this, but that ship had sailed now with yet another reminder.
The man turned on his heel and marched towards the basement promptly.
"Fucker," Bishop scoffed. It wasn't as if he said something offensive, but it was annoying having anyone mention it.
"I like how quiet it is, but he makes me wish there were more people here," Aeyrin sighed.
It was an unpleasant inconvenience. But it was an acceptable trade for a night here. Relatively safe and with all the amenities they might want.
The man was gone for a while, likely looking for the bottles downstairs or talking to that Orc. He did come out eventually though and Bishop and Aeyrin both stood up to get to their room and meet him halfway.
The innkeeper looked a little strange. Like he was startled that they were leaving the room. Or just startled in general. He looked at them without a word and with a somewhat empty stare and he handed them their bottles.
"Are you alright?" Aeyrin looked at him in concern. But maybe he was more shocked that they would take their conversations and other things into the privacy of their room. But what did he expect when they asked for bottles?
"Y-yes. Enjoy your evening," the man nodded quickly and turned on his heel, marching towards the bar again. He seemed very preoccupied with washing a tankard immediately as he got there.
Oh well. Bishop and Aeyrin only shrugged at each other and headed to their room. They had much more pleasant things to focus on.
"We're staying for the rest of the night, right?" Bishop asked as he placed his bottle on a cupboard in their room and began to kick off his boots.
"I don't see why not," Aeyrin smiled. She didn't like that she had to be careful about being too noisy here, but she could control herself. Hopefully. Rest of the night spent with Bishop locked in their room sounded perfect.
He nodded and walked over to his pack. He rummaged around for a bit until he found one of the traps again.
"Still worried?" Aeyrin scowled a bit. It was understandable. Just so… tiresome.
"Yeah. Can't help it since Morthal and I don't even fucking know why," he grumbled. "You said it was months ago, but still."
"I know. It's disturbing to think about it," she sighed. "I don't know why it feels so close either, even when it wasn't."
"I guess it's been a while," Bishop sighed. They used the traps during their honeymoon too through the night, but it was easier to put the worries out of their minds. It was mostly because they were staying in one place. They didn't make it that much of a habit to use the traps at the inns, aside from when it felt like they should. Now it felt like it and there was really no reason for it. It just all seemed oddly fresh again. "No harm in it though, right?"
"Well…" Aeyrin shrugged. There was certainly harm caused by it in Falkreath when Bishop was arrested. But he would have been arrested without the trap being sprung too. They had the antidotes if somehow someone else sprung it though. It was better to be wary, no matter how exhausting.
Aeyrin took off her clothes while Bishop tinkered. By the time he was done and their room was both locked and secured, she was already naked in bed, covering herself by a fur blanket and sipping on her juniper mead.
Bishop promptly took off his clothes too and joined her in the bed. He immediately pulled the blanket off her again, exposing her entirely.
"Hey!" Aeyrin chuckled, but the warmth of the fur was quickly replaced by Bishop's body enveloping hers.
"What? How long did you expect that to stay there?" He laughed. Why even try to cover herself?
He dipped his head to her neck and began to kiss her there. It was good to see that the flinching had become less frequent in the past day. She still flinched, but not when he moved a bit higher. And she told him to ignore whatever flinches, so he did. She promised she would speak up if she was actually uncomfortable. That hasn't happened yet and hopefully it wouldn't happen either.
Aeyrin didn't stay idle as he kissed and nipped at her neck eagerly. When he poised himself atop her, she promptly ran her hands over his toned back, raking her fingers into his skin and making him tense up considerably. She knew he loved it. She could have sworn he almost purred against her neck as she scratched lower, down to his buttocks.
He moved his head down in a moment, kissing along her clavicle and towards her breasts. She arched her back below him and while one of her hands squeezed his cheek eagerly, the other snuck in between their bodies instead.
She brushed along his thigh, running only the tips of her fingers teasingly over his sack, then along his hard length before she began teasing the tip. Bishop groaned against her breast at the contact, then reciprocated by sucking on her skin right above her nipple, pinching the spot a little with his teeth.
She continued the treatment for a while, shivering a little whenever he let out a grunt of pleasure and nipped at her skin eagerly in retaliation. After a while, she began to urge him to move upwards.
Bishop rearranged himself quickly to rest on his side next to her with his midsection level with her face. He had to stop playing with her breasts, but was not gonna complain about this development. Aeyrin began to stroke his cock again soon, letting her tongue tease the tip now instead.
He let out a deep groan at the sensations, and when, after a while of running her tongue all over the head of his cock, she finally enveloped her lips around him, he couldn't stop himself from tangling his hand into her hair, gripping her firmly. He did hold himself back from guiding her like that and let her set the pace. It was not like she didn't set an overwhelming one soon enough. Her hands grabbed him firmly in turn, one grabbing at his asscheek to set the motions while the other tangled in the hair on his chest. How the fuck did that tugging make it feel even better when she began to take him in deeper with each bop of her head? He barely managed to do anything but let out constant moans at her treatment.
"Fuck, love, that's so good," he gasped when she took him in particularly deep, her warm throat enveloping him as her tongue pressed against him. Fuck, he didn't want to come just yet, but she was making it hard.
After a few more times she did that again, he finally made use of the hand in her hair and pulled her back from him. He didn't expect to be using his grip to stop her, but he was very close to the edge. And he was not willing to wait to recover before he was inside her.
Aeyrin quickly tried to catch her breath when he pulled her off himself, but she didn't get much time to recover. Bishop was surprisingly quick to act. He rolled back on the bed and got onto his knees. The next thing she knew, he gripped her hips firmly and flipped her over onto her stomach.
She scrambled a little, trying to position herself on all fours on the bed, but Bishop's constant distractions were making it a bit harder. His hand went to her groin instantly, rubbing in between her wet folds for a moment to see what state she was in. And before she could actually pull herself up, he dragged her to himself instead, pulling her by her hips until she felt the head of his cock spread her.
Aeyrin let out a moan as he buried himself inside her. She didn't expect him to act this fast, but she couldn't exactly complain. Her torso was still lying on the bed, pressing against the mattress while Bishop continued to grip her hips as he thrust into her. She still wanted to get up, but the pace Bishop took up left her gripping and biting the sheets instead. Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her and it got even more intense when Bishop's hand returned to tangle itself into her hair. Gods, she loved that feeling, the tension on the back of her scalp only underlined the tension all over her body. She let out a muffled groan of pleasure into the sheet.
Maybe it was a good thing she stayed like that. At least she wouldn't be heard by that innkeeper.
She knew he was close before, but Bishop demonstrated impressive stamina now. He was still thrusting inside when she felt herself come undone, letting out another muffled moan and tensing up against him.
Bishop stopped in his motions for a while, his ragged breaths filling the room while Aeyrin's voice was muffled as she bit into the sheets with force. He tangled his hand in her hair a bit more firmly, eliciting another barely-audible moan from her, and soon he began to chase his own peak. He was kinda proud of himself for lasting this long after what she had done to him at the start.
It only took a few more thrusts. Despite her apparent exhaustion, he felt Aeyrin clench around him rhythmically, making it practically impossible to last any longer. Soon, he only let out a moan of his own and let go of her hair.
It took a while for him to extract himself from her and slump to the bed at last while she turned herself over, taking a deep breath that was finally unobstructed by the sheets.
After a spell, Aeyrin reached out lazily for her bottle of mead and finished it with a few deep gulps. She looked parched. Bishop could certainly sympathize, but he stupidly left his on the cupboard and now he was too lazy to get up. Maybe he would find the strength later.
She snuggled into his arms comfortably and closed her eyes. He kept brushing her hair idly as he watched her serene face. It wasn't very late yet and he expected some more fun, but Aeyrin seemed to doze off very soon.
Ah well, they'd have more time in the morning. Or maybe she'd wake up in a bit.
He was just content staying like this for now.
…
What time was it?
Was it morning already? It didn't seem like it. The room was so dark. There was some light though. It was either snowing, rainy, or very early in the morning. Bishop wasn't sure. He felt like he slept for ages. He remembered Aeyrin dozing off ridiculously early and he soon followed suit. It was probably really early. It made sense since they went to sleep so soon after the sex.
Aeyrin was still comfortably sleeping with her back to him, snuggled into his chest with her ass rubbing against him. Alright, he was the one rubbing against her. Tempting. But she didn't seem to be waking up yet.
Instead, he carefully extricated his arm from under her and walked over to the window.
Hmmm… it was raining a lot. But it was also clearly very early in the morning. Hopefully the rain would stop soon. They could spend the morning here, but if they wanted to get home before nightfall, they should head out around noon.
Bishop walked over to the cupboard next and finally grabbed his mead. He didn't manage to get up last night. But it did hit the spot today. Always a good wake-up.
Aeyrin didn't even move with all his shuffling around the room. Heh, he loved how soundly she could sleep. But they'd slept a lot. At least he thought as much. He couldn't see the position of the sun from the window with those thick rain-clouds in the way. He felt fully rested though.
He came back to bed once he finished the mead. He was hoping that would wake her. When it didn't though, he snuggled back against her, stroking along her arm, her hip and leg. Nothing.
Ugh, fine. If she wanted to sleep more, she would tell him. He wanted to do other stuff.
"Princess, wake up," he murmured into her ear before nipping eagerly at the mangled tip of it.
Huh. Still nothing.
"Princess?" It was starting to get a little odd and he actually shook her.
But… nothing.
That was… weird. She usually did rouse when he spoke to her or shook her like this. Over the years, he learned which things worked best, despite her being a very heavy sleeper.
She was sleeping though. Her body was relaxed, her breathing steady and there was a peaceful expression on her face.
"Princess," he shook her again, then bit her shoulder teasingly. Nothing.
This was getting… odd. A strange panic was rising in Bishop, even though he knew she was fine – alive and asleep. But it wasn't normal for her not to wake up even after all this. He began to practically rock her on the bed, holding her by her shoulder and pushing and pulling.
She… didn't wake up. What the fuck?
Alright. That was it. He was officially in full panic. What the fuck was happening?
He was gonna get some cold water.
He promptly got off the bed again and put on his clothes. He ignored the boots for now and quickly went to disarm the trap by the door. He was out of that room in no time.
Alright. He needed some pitcher or something. Where the fuck was that nosy bastard when Bishop needed him? He wasn't behind the bar. Was he still asleep?
Fuck it.
Bishop walked behind the bar himself and found the biggest pitcher he could. Then he turned towards the barrel of water behind him to fill it. It was nicely cold.
He rushed back into the room right away, slamming the door behind him. It felt weird waking her up like this, but he was getting really freaked out and he had no idea what was happening.
"I'm so sorry, love," he sighed. It was gonna be a nasty wake-up, but he had to do it. The bed would be a casualty, but… they'd just fuck on the floor for the rest of the morning.
He poured the pitcher over her side in one quick motion. He was ready for the scream already.
But none came.
What. The. Fuck?
She was breathing! She was fine! He checked and now he checked again. There wasn't anything wrong with her. What was happening?
"Love, please, come on, wake up," he growled in frustration and shook her again. Why wasn't she waking up?
Maybe he was the one asleep. Maybe this was a dream.
Ugh. Now he just felt fucking insane. Maybe more water would help.
He turned around sharply to walk out of the room again, but he got caught off guard by an unexpected sight. An unpleasant chill went down his spine and he felt stuck in place.
"Good morning. Rough one?"
A disturbing smile crept on the face in front of him. One he hoped to never see again.
How the fuck did she get in here? And what did she do to Aeyrin?!
"Gabriella," Bishop growled hatefully. Fuck. This was bad. Traps or no traps, it was useless. He could clearly just not keep the Brotherhood away by any means. And this just got a lot fucking worse than he would have expected. "What the fuck did you do to her?!" He snarled.
"Poison," Gabriella shrugged noncommittally, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do. She was creeping here, standing right in front of the closed door to their room in that fucking conspicuous black and red armor, looking like something that came out of a horror tale. The expression on her face was disturbingly… empty.
"Why?! She's not a part of this! Leave her alone!" Bishop growled. He wanted to fucking punch her teeth in. He wanted to fucking break her until she had no strength left to stop him from finally killing her. He wanted to snap her spine with his bare hands.
But all of that seemed unlikely.
He was unarmed, at a complete disadvantage in front of that fully armed professional assassin with magic skills that were nothing to scoff at. And Aeyrin couldn't help. He suspected that any sudden movement would mean his death.
That's why she was here, wasn't it?
"I might," Gabriella shrugged. Bishop didn't even have the strength to wonder just how Gabriella managed to poison Aeyrin. He couldn't be certain of safety anywhere and with anything. He felt oddly defeated. And at the same time, he was never more determined to kill.
Surprisingly enough, he felt like he saw the same expression on Gabriella's face.
"What the fuck do want from me?!" He yelled. He was so fucking fed up. Why wouldn't they just leave him be?! And why was she dragging Aeyrin into this?! That fucking bitch better have a way to wake her up. He would not let her near Aeyrin right now though. At least he knew that she was still alive.
But fuck, what if the poison was slowly lethal?
"I want your death. What else?" Gabriella scoffed at him.
"Then why not fucking kill me?! You clearly got in here! Why not get it fucking over with and why mess with her?!" He fumed. It wasn't exactly the ideal scenario, but he was so fucking pissed that Gabriella poisoned Aeyrin. And he still felt like he knew nothing.
"I didn't get 'in here'. I didn't need to. The innkeeper was cooperative enough," Gabriella nodded at the empty bottle of juniper mead on Aeyrin's nightstand.
Fuck! Bishop knew that asshole was acting shifty! He… was probably threatened and blackmailed, but that didn't mean Bishop couldn't be pissed off at him.
"And why not kill you indeed?" She scoffed. "Well… I have questions. And I also don't want to do this alone."
What?!
What questions? And what the fuck did she mean she didn't want to 'do this alone'?
"You killed Cicero," she snarled angrily. "I know you were in Dawnstar when it happened."
Oh. Those questions. Fuck.
"He attacked me. All of you keep attacking me!" Bishop growled through his gritted teeth. What did they expect?! That he would just let them kill him?!
"And so did Veezara, didn't he? 'Hunter became the prey'," she narrowed her eyes.
"What? Who?" Bishop scoffed. Was she talking about that fucking Argonian?! That was an Argonian name, wasn't it?
"You are so obvious. I can see the recognition in your eyes. You have done enough to our family. It is time to end it," Gabriella narrowed her eyes. "For Festus, for Veezara, for Cicero, and for your tricks."
"You are fucking insane! If you just left me alone, none of this would have happened! You think I gave a fuck about your assassins?!" Bishop screamed at her. He was getting kind of hysterical, but what the fuck was he supposed to do? This obsession of theirs was insanity!
"It's too late for any of this," Gabriella looked at him darkly. "So this is what we come to. You follow me outside. You will die there when my Brother returns. And after that, I will get her the antidote."
"What? You think I'm gonna just believe that?!" Bishop scoffed. What if she let Aeyrin just… die? Would she die? Would she really not wake up without an antidote? What if she was bluffing? What if she wasn't?
Ah! Fuck!
"What choice do you have?" Gabriella scoffed. "Your life is forfeit. You come with me, and you can die with the comfort of my promise. There is no reason to keep her in this state. But remember that we have no qualms about her death either. If the Dread Father wants the dragons to send the world into his boundless Void, it will happen regardless."
What the fuck? How was that comforting?!
What the fuck was he supposed to do now:
"Gabriella, for fuck's sake, stop this. It's not too late. Just leave me alone and I will leave you alone too," he shook his head desperately.
"Now?" She scoffed. "After you killed three of our Brothers? After you tricked us and sold us out to the Penitus Oculatus? It is far too late. I am at the end of my rope. It's time to hang you from it."
He knew that look in her eyes and it was terrifying him. She was… grieving. And that was the most dangerous thing he could think of. She didn't waste much time. She reached to her belt and took out a small silver throwing star.
"Your choice. Come with me outside or you both die here right now."
Fuck. What fucking choice did he have?
He needed to go with her. Maybe he would find a way out of this yet.
But even if he didn't…
Even that fucking unreliable promise was better than nothing.
Aeyrin had to stay alive.
…
He had never walked to his own execution.
He did know he would be executed, back in Falkreath when Kari revealed the bounty, but he never got to this point. He never got to actually walk forth, knowing he was walking to his death.
This was what Aeyrin must have felt like in Helgen.
It was different. Different from walking into danger. Different from infiltrating a castle full of ancient vampires or from storming Thorn's den. His hope was… dwindling.
He knew he should do something. Or did he? He wasn't sure. He couldn't trust Gabriella to really make sure Aeyrin was helped. But what if he couldn't either? What if he would somehow kill Gabriella only to find out he had no way to cure Aeyrin? He would trade her life for his. Something that clenched his heart more painfully than each barefoot step through the snow outside.
The rain was coming down hard. His clothes were already soaked and the snow below was more of a sludge. It was a fitting dreary atmosphere as Gabriella led him to the lake ahead. She was behind him all the time. He knew she had a weapon ready. He wasn't sure if it was the star or something else, but it hardly mattered.
There was no one around here to help. Aeyrin was asleep, poisoned, Karnwyr wasn't here and who knew what happened to the innkeeper?
And seeing the look on Gabriella's face made him think there was no hope for talking her out of it. He still tried to speak though.
"How did you know I killed them?" Bishop growled. How was that possible? Fine, he was in Dawnstar when Cicero died and the other assassin saw Bishop do it. Wait… she just said that Bishop was there, nothing about that guy fucking catching him in the act! Ugh. Who cared? She knew about Cicero. How did she know about the Argonian? Or the third guy?
"I didn't," Gabriella scoffed. "Call it a hunch. You confirmed it. It made sense and now I know."
What?! What the fuck? He could have bluffed!
But… she would likely want to kill him anyway. They all did for the trick.
Fuck, he had to do something.
Think, fucker, think.
"There are more of you here?" He asked as Gabriella yanked on his arm to stop him by the shore of the small lake.
"Yes. My Brother will be here soon. And he'll fetch my Sister then. I want them both to see the bastard who did this to our family die," she snarled. She was usually so composed. The grief was so obvious. Maybe he could use that. Maybe he she wouldn't be as ready for anything as she usually was.
"How did you find me?" He scowled. It was unexpected here of all places. It wouldn't have been that strange if he and Aeyrin stayed for longer, but they just got here.
"We were here already on a contract."
"I can see that," Bishop nodded as he stared into the lake.
He felt like his brain just got hit by lightning or something. He had no idea why he said it, why he did it. It wasn't even something he planned. Maybe that was a good thing. He said it so fast. It was like someone pulled this stunt for him, controlling him.
There was no way Gabriella would get fooled by him. Ever.
"What?" She scoffed and peered into the lake. Wait… was she gonna…?
Gabriella took a step forward towards the lake to look into the water. It was all disturbed by the heavy rain. There wasn't a chance to see anything, even if there was anything to see. Bishop had no idea what just happened. That strange impulse to lie came out of nowhere, but he was not going to squander it.
Don't think. Just do it.
He knew it was probably a bad idea. There were assassins around. One was coming right now. Maybe one that was not going to want to put on a fucking show. And there was also the issue of Aeyrin's cure.
But his mind went blank. Once more, it felt like someone else was doing this. Someone else gripped the back of Gabriella's head fiercely, yanking on her black hair. He felt an intense burning pain all over his flank and leg, but he ignored it, along with the smell of singed cloth and skin. He just kept pushing, pulling her down until his knees buckled.
The slushy snow felt nice, so near his burning skin. He wanted to roll in it. But he still felt the hair in his grip and his eyes could focus only on one thing. A flat grey rock by the shore.
There was more pain he barely registered, this time a shock, burning on his knee and tremor wreaking through his entire body. He saw the form in his grip disappear in front of his eyes as they began to blur, went invisible, but he still didn't let go. If he wasn't so sure that was just fucking bullshit, he would have thought that some God out there was controlling him, keeping him alive through all that pain and keeping a firm grip on Gabriella's hair.
She was skilled. She was cunning. But she was not strong.
His hand came down, hard. He couldn't see her in her invisibility, but he felt that her head made contact with the stone. Again and again as he slammed her into it. And then he moved it again.
It was disturbing with nothing to see. He wasn't sure if it would have been better to see though. The only indications of anything happening were the indentations in the slushy snow. There was no blood, no Gabriella. But he would see soon. He needed to. He needed to make sure.
He brought his hand below the water forcibly, holding it there. He felt thrashing and there was a kick to his singed knee, but he still held firm. He wasn't sure how. He knew that practically half of his body was marked and broken by powerful magic. He knew it hurt so fucking much. But that was it. He was aware of the pain, but he couldn't feel it. All he could feel was the desperate need to keep his hand under the water.
It was so easy, it made him sick to his stomach.
Not because of what he did. He would have done this a long time ago if he could. But it was something else.
It was too easy. Gabriella was stricken with grief and she might have acted hastily. But… it still felt too easy. Kind of like killing Cicero. An unexpected upper hand. How was it possible to be constantly this lucky? It felt like the other shoe was yet to drop.
Everything appeared soon.
The blood, covering the flat stone by the shore, trickling down and painting the slush below pink as the rain tried to wash it off that rock. The water was even more disturbed, red strings swirling inside, being played with by the raindrops falling in.
And there was she.
Her black hair floated in the water around his hand, but he was unable to let go. Not even for a second. He couldn't risk it. She would rise again.
Something very wrong would happen.
There should have been relief when she wasn't moving anymore. There should have been… something. But there was just an ominous feeling.
Gabriella was dead. Drowned in the water colored by her own blood. The only other person around was finally gone. But the feeling wouldn't stop.
He felt watched.
"What did you do?" A voice. Full of panic. Familiar. "What did you do?!"
Suddenly his mind snapped Bishop back there. Back to Dawnstar. To that very moment he was kneeling on the ground in the snow, just like this. Right in front of Cicero's corpse.
And the same voice called out the same thing to him, deep grey eyes watching in horror, the shocked expression covered by a black mask.
Bishop didn't even turn around. A chill went through his body and he finally let go of Gabriella's black hair. She didn't get up. She stayed with half her body floating on the surface of the lake.
And that was the first time he felt it. It was only a tinge.
Hope.
The same scene all over again, just like in Dawnstar. This man… this assassin… Bishop had been through this before. Would he just take the body of his fallen Sister and leave?
There was silence.
Bishop couldn't stand it. He had to…
He turned over a bit, wincing at the burning pain in his flank as he did. And there he was. The same getup, the same armor, the same eyes and the same shocked expression. The man was holding a lithe sword in his hand, but Bishop was still there, still alive, still breathing.
What would come next? It was disturbing how calm he became when he saw this man.
But the calm was a lie. An illusion.
It only served to rid him of his panic, of his adrenaline. The very thing that kept him alive just now. And now that it was lost, it was like he couldn't regain it. When the next words echoed through the empty snow banks, Bishop's heart sank. Like all the hope and fighting instincts vanished.
"There's no other way. You need to die."