Deathbeds[✓]

2;2

Anais offered to show Bishop around Amber Creek, which he readily accepted. She pointed to buildings as they walked through the streets, telling him the history of the families that first settled here as well as the genealogy of most of Falskaar.

Bishop took note of the broken structures and the homes constructed of reclaimed debris. It was disheartening to see what Yngvarr had done to a place that Anais held sacred.

They approached a graveyard and Anais stopped and looked at him hesitantly. He noticed the worn brave markers and even several newly erected ones, which outnumbered the old.

Bishop put his hand on her shoulder in comfort.

Her gaze lingered on two new markers, the earth still mounted from the burial but vegetation had grown over. “I grew up with these people. All good, law-abiding citizens. They were farmers, merchants, veterans, and trade workers. They died defending our home from Yngvarr's men.” Anais left his side to stand near two of the markers she had her eyes on. “My parents were among them.” She reached out and ran her fingers lightly over the markers.

Bishop stood next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. At the markers were bundles of dried flowers, a scimitar propped against one of them, and a mortar and pestle in front of the other.

“Your parents would be proud of you, ladyship,” he told her in earnest. “Even if you weren't the Dragonborn or the captain of the guard.”

“Come on, I'll show you to my home,” she smiled softly and directed him out of the graveyard.

Anais lived on the far east side of town, in a well-built one-story home called Horndew Lodge. She'd inherited it with her promotion to guard captain the first couple of weeks since she arrived back to Falskaar.

She told him about Yngvarr seizing two Holds and there had been little success in the past year. She was able to reclaim the southern shipping city and reopen the ports to send citizens to Skyrim. She also told him that one of the ship captains to sail citizens back and forth was none other than the pirate, Jack.

“He was the one that told me about Falskaar. No wonder he was the only one that knew what the Oblivion was going on here,” Bishop grumbled into his tankard of Amber Creek mead. When it came to drinking, anything of alcoholic content was enough for him- but this mead was by far his favorite. He couldn't believe Anais had held out on him this entire time.

Anais sat across from him at the small dining table with a tankard of her own. She leaned back against the chair, sleep deprivation clear on her face. She washed the gold warpaint off and her eyes were rimmed in purple sweeps from exhaustion.

“You look like shit, ladyship,” Bishop commented before taking a large drink of his mead, watching her carefully over the rim of his tankard.

“You certainly have charm, ranger,” she rolled her eyes, “this is actually my first day back in weeks. I led a scouting party to the Emerald Valley to watch Yngvarr's movements. We heard rumors of his bandits encroaching the North and we went to meet them. I can't say I got a wink of sleep since.”

“I won't keep you up if you want to rest,” Bishop looked back at Karnwyr stretched out on a bear pelt in front of the hearth behind him. “Karnwyr has never had it this good.”

Anais sent the wolf a sleepy smile. “I missed him.”

Bishop raised a brow at her. “What else did you miss?”

“Fighting dragons, but there is a lot in Skyrim I don't miss,” she shrugged and took a drink of her tankard. “Being home was all I ever missed when I was on the mainland.”