A/N: I just want to say a huge, heartfelt thank you to everyone who has read, voted, commented, followed, or added this story to your reading lists. Thank you so very much!!! While I love to write stories and would do it whether or not anyone ever read them, it's so special to be able to share a story with people who enjoy it. You guys are so awesome and I'm really glad you're here!
Bishop stormed away from the Winking Skeever and out onto the cobblestone streets of Solitude. There were crowds of people milling about, even more than usual for the capital city, and that wasn't doing much for Bishop's temper. He elbowed his way through the throngs in search of a quiet corner where he could be alone. The guard's hangover cure had helped to ease his headache and his nausea some, but he still didn't feel much better. The news of that damned Paladin skulking around the city somewhere set him on edge; eventually, he'd run into Casavir, and then it would take all Bishop's willpower not to pick up exactly where they'd left off all those years ago. He felt certain the Paladin was still the same self-righteous, overtly pious, pretentious piece of shit he'd been when Bishop had known him. It only irked him further that he'd already made an impression on Aruna.
He wasn't sure why he felt protective of her. It wasn't as though she'd needed anyone to defend her up to this point, and he'd seen for himself how capable she was. Yet the very idea of Casavir lurking around her turned Bishop's already nauseated stomach. Casavir was nothing but a foul reminder of some very bad times in Bishop's life, and their last meeting, years before, had only solidified Bishop's loathing for the paladin. He'd be damned if he was going to allow the same thing to happen again. Aruna may not have been his woman, but he'd make sure she wouldn't end up Casavir's, either.
Bishop found an area devoid of people, behind the Bard's college. It wasn't ideal; his dislike of bards usually kept him at a respectable distance, with the rare exception or two, but it was better than being stuck in the bustling crowds. He leaned against the stone barrier, in which were square paneless windows that looked out onto the sea. From where he stood, he could just see the mast of a ship moored to the docks far below. It reminded him of the night before. Something was nagging at him in the back of his mind, a memory entrenched in the fog of his hangover. Something had happened between him and Aruna that night. He was sure of it. She had lied to him so easily that he'd doubted himself, but only for a moment. There was much he couldn't recall, but one thing seemed to be important. As he concentrated on coaxing the memory from his aching head, he began to piece it together. He couldn't remember why, but he did know that he'd kissed her...or, been about to. He remembered moving close to her, touching her face. In his memory, he could see Aruna tilting her head up toward him, her eyes closed, her lips parted, waiting for his kiss.
And then, nothing.
Bishop growled in frustration. What happened after that? And why did she lie to him about it? That bothered him most of all; that Aruna had completely disregarded it. He was sure it happened, so why hadn't she mentioned it? Was she embarrassed? Angry? She hadn't seemed upset with him that morning. In fact, she hadn't seemed upset at all. He frowned, his eyes fixed absently on the ship's mast, bobbing against the gray waves in the distance. Maybe it didn't matter to her. Bishop had not made his attraction to her a secret, but Aruna had been difficult to read, even for him. There were times when he'd catch her looking at him and he would wonder what she was thinking, only for her to make a quick joke or say something sarcastic. She'd told him a few times that she found him attractive, but he never quite knew when to take her seriously. She didn't seem like the type of woman to play games, but in his experience, they never seemed the type.
He breathed in deep, exhaled slowly, and wished for the space and peace of the forests to help him clear his head. Dragons or not, he preferred the dangers he knew to complications involving women. How in Oblivion had he allowed himself to be put in this position once again?
Aruna wandered the city well into the afternoon, weaving through the crowds of people. It had been a long time since she'd seen that many people in one place and the excitement in the air was palpable. It was almost overwhelming, but she tried to enjoy it. As much as she loved the open countryside, she sometimes missed people. Being in this place, like Morthal, put things into perspective for her. These people were all the reasons why she couldn't fail in the tasks appointed her. The children, running past, playing a game while shrieking laughter, the men and women going about their business, talking, laughing, arguing, buying and selling. The dragons could destroy it all and she knew she might be the only thing that stood between these people and that threat.
"The gods have a twisted sense of humor," she muttered to herself.
It had been hours since she'd last seen Bishop. She wondered where he'd gone, and if he was all right. He'd been in a bad mood when he left, and she wasn't entirely sure it could all be blamed on his hangover. His mood had seemed to sour even more at the mention of that paladin, Casavir. She wondered how Bishop knew him. She wasn't too concerned with the warning Bishop had left her with; just because he didn't have a very high opinion of the paladin, that didn't mean much, since Bishop didn't seem to like anyone.
Well, anyone except for her, if his rum-fueled declaration from the night before had any merit.
She felt her cheeks warm at the memory of his sincere face as he told her how he felt. She hadn't figured him for an emotional drunk, but it wasn't as though she'd ever seen him in that state before. It had been nice to hear, at any rate, even if it wasn't completely true. It was the sort of thing that made her wonder how things could have been, were she not the Dragonborn. It also made her wonder if Bishop would have stuck around as long as he had if she weren't the Dragonborn.
That thought left a sour taste in her mouth. She'd been taking solace in the fact that Bishop didn't seem to care that she was Dragonborn. He was one of the few people she knew in Skyrim who treated her like a regular person, who wasn't afraid of arguing with her or pissing her off and never asked her for anything. But what if he was just along for the ride? What if what she'd told Jonna in Morthal was true? That he would leave when he grew bored of her...of the Dragonborn? He never even called her by her real name; it was always "ladyship", or "princess" or some other obnoxious nickname. She tried to remember if he had ever called her by her name, but couldn't think of a single instance. What did that mean? If he meant to leave, what was he waiting for? Was he hoping to bed her before he disappeared? Was that all this was for him? Some sort of game, where the prize was sleeping with the Dragonborn?
Aruna suddenly didn't feel very jovial anymore. She moved away from the crowds and wandered to the quietest place she could find, which happened to be the cemetery outside the city's hall of the dead. It wasn't ideal, but it would do. She stepped inside the gate and walked slowly among the old headstones and the wild nightshade that sprouted between them. She heard a soft sound and looked up to see that she wasn't alone. Sitting on a stone bench just ahead, with his back to her, was the Paladin. She was about to retreat when he turned and looked at her over his shoulder. He smiled.
"Lady Aruna," he said, rising to his feet. Gods, he was tall. "Everything is well, I hope?"
"Hello, Sir Casavir," she said, "yes, I was just...I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone else was here. I can leave, if you—"
"No, please," Casavir said, moving toward her. He stopped a polite distance away, "I would not mind the company just now if you have no other pressing engagements."
Aruna looked around, a look of amusement spreading across her face, "oh, I don't think you're in want of company, sir Paladin...unless you prefer someone still breathing."
Casavir laughed sheepishly, "forgive me...this isn't the best place for a conversation, is it? I came here to meditate, as it is the only place in Solitude to offer...well, solitude."
"A bit ironic, isn't it?" she smiled at him, "I hope I didn't interrupt you."
He shook his head, "no, my lady. I seem to be having some trouble concentrating here. Perhaps meditation is better suited for the true silence of the forests and mountains."
"I suppose so," she said as they walked out of the cemetery and back onto the cobbled path, "although the dragons are making it less peaceful out there these days."
"You mentioned that you were a traveler, my lady," Casavir said, "from where do you hail, if I may ask?"
"All over, really," she said, "I guess you could say I'm an adventurer. I prefer the term 'explorer', myself."
Casavir raised his angular brows, "ah, I see. And you say you travel with a companion?"
"I only picked him up fairly recently," Aruna replied, "I've had other companions before, but I often travel alone."
"You must be an extraordinary woman to brave the road on your own," Casavir said, sounding impressed.
"Not at all," she said, "all it takes is good instincts, some fighting skill, and some survival knowledge. And it helps to be willing to work when you need coin and to know when to fight, when to talk, and when to retreat. I've learned much on the road."
"Forgive my boldness," Casavir said as they walked side by side down a less crowded street, "but may I ask how long you've been traveling this way?"
"About ten years now," she said.
"My," he remarked, looking surprised, "I beg your pardon, but you can't be very old, Lady Aruna. You must have been but a child when you began your adventures. Do you—" he stopped himself.
Aruna laughed, "go ahead, Casavir. You can ask. I don't offend easily."
"It's just—begging your pardon once more, Lady, but do you not find it lonely? To travel for so long, without a home of your own?" he looked at her, and Aruna didn't miss the pity in his eyes.
She turned her gaze to the street and watched the children there as they played with a big, shaggy brown dog, "I don't really think about it anymore. You can't really miss what you never really had." She shook her head and smiled at him, "honestly, I don't know what I'd do with myself if I had to stay in one place for too long. Traveling is in my nature."
"But, surely your parents must..." he trailed off, and his cheeks flushed with color, "forgive me, that was presumptuous. I should not assume that your parents...that you have...er..."
Aruna patted his steel plate-covered arm and laughed good-naturedly, "don't worry, it's all right. My parents are alive and well, as far as I know. As for whether they worry...well, I've been gone a long time. It's better for all of us this way." She looked around them, "Casavir, could I trouble you for a while longer?"
"Of course, Lady Aruna," he said, sounding surprised, "what do you need?"
"Do you know where the blacksmith is around here?" she asked, "my armor's taken a quite a beating lately and I'd like to get something newer to wear to the wedding."
And to save my ass the next time a dragon tries to torch it, she thought.
Casavir's handsome face brightened, "oh, yes! Beirand! He is an excellent blacksmith. He repaired my own armor when I first came to the city and he did splendid work. Come, I'll take you to him."
Along the way, Casavir described the damage his armor had sustained when he'd been accosted by a hagraven on his way to Solitude, and showed her where the blacksmith had repaired it. Aruna enjoyed his enthusiasm over armor and blacksmithing. He even confessed to her that, had he not become a paladin, he would have been quite happy working as a blacksmith. Aruna tried to imagine it, and found she couldn't; though she barely knew him, Casavir seemed to be made to wear armor, not to forge it.
Meanwhile, Bishop had given up on his brooding and was searching for Aruna amid the crowds. He muttered to himself about flighty women and how much he detested so many people in one place, while his scowling face caused most people to move out of the way and a few of the braver women to stare appreciatively. His temper had not improved much over the day and he was hungry on top of everything else. Unfortunately, he'd realized a little too late that Aruna had his money. He guessed she'd taken it off him for safekeeping after he'd blacked out, but apparently hadn't seen fit to return it to him earlier. He knew he hadn't given her much time to remember, but that was hardly the point. His temper only seemed to fester and grow exponentially worse by the minute, so when he finally spotted Aruna in the company of that fool paladin, of all people, his blood began to boil.
"That fucking paladin," he growled. A passing guard looked at him sharply, but Bishop ignored him and made his way toward the smithy, blood roaring in his ears.