Northbound Pilgrimage II

Chapter V - Lonely Road

It was hard to believe that it was all almost a year ago.

It seemed so familiar now, as if they were there just yesterday – in that cabin, curled together on the small bed. But so much has happened since then. So much had gone... wrong.

Bishop brushed a stray strand of her long hair from her face in a familiar gesture.

He remembered everything about that night – the night when she found out who she was, after they killed their first dragon, when he took her to this cabin to ease her mind after that ordeal.

He remembered seeing the peaceful and content look on her face in the morning sun back then.

It was nowhere to be seen now.

She jerked and thrashed in his embrace, occasionally digging her nails into his bare chest in tension. It's been like that all night. She was always tossing and turning, whimpering softly every now and then in her sleep. She woke up several times, but Bishop was pretty sure that she didn't even register it. She always just fell right back asleep instantly in exhaustion.

He'd never seen her like that. She always slept like a log.

Once, she told him that it was because of him – because she was comfortable sleeping in his arms.

It was... painful to realize that this was no longer the case.

But it was his own damn fault.

If only he knew how to make things right again. But she wasn't even willing to talk about things. Fuck, the state she got in when he questioned her on their relationship... it was not a pleasant sight. It was not that he didn't know how much he had hurt her with his secrets, but still... seeing her like that hit him hard. As if he wasn't feeling guilty enough already.

But if she just... stayed, they could work through this. He was sure of it. They've been through so much together. They could get through this too.

He needed to believe that.

Everything could go back to the way it was again.

He missed that so much.

Bishop gently stroked her cheek before his hand brushed over her right ear. The painful reminder of the events in Falkreath was right there under his fingers – the cut off tip of her ear. It was fully healed now, of course, but the damage was visible.

He knew that it made her self-conscious. He saw how she fidgeted every time her fingers accidentally brushed over it. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her – what did a little thing like that matter? He had countless scars left on his body after Thorn's treatment, old and new. It only meant that he survived that fucker. They both did. But bringing that shit up again was likely not a good idea. She seemed adamant to avoid talking about anything that even touched upon all the things that had transpired in Falkreath.

How was he supposed to make shit right when she didn't even want to discuss things?

He kept thinking about what he would say to her when she woke up. Nothing seemed right. Was there even a right thing to say? He doubted that anything that he would come up with would convince her to go back to him.

This was all too weird – he had no idea how to deal with something like this. It wasn't as if he'd never been left by a girl before, but this was the first time that he actually minded the fact. The first time he actually wanted to get someone back. Maybe he was right not to get attached to anyone before – this was torture. Then again, now that he knew what he had and lost, he knew that he would never trade it for anything. It was too late. He was in too deep. Now if he just went back to how things used to be – him alone with only Karnwyr for company, it would not feel right anymore. Something would always be missing.