All Roads Lead To You (A Skyrim Romance Mod fanfic)

Chapter Fifty-Five

Author's Note: I just want to apologize for not responding to comments lately. If I reply late or miss yours, I'm sorry! Things have been so busy, but I want you all to know how much I appreciate every comment, every favorite, every follow, every addition to your reading lists, and every single reader! Thank you sooo much  ❤ ❤ ❤

Well before dawn the next morning, Bishop got up and dressed silently. He looked down at Aruna, sleeping soundly in the bed. She'd spent the night sleeping in his arms and hadn't woken from nightmares once. For that matter, neither had he, though his own demons didn't seem to haunt him as often as Aruna's plagued her. He leaned over her and brushed his lips against a spot on her forehead, near her hairline. He'd recently discovered that she made some interesting sounds when he kissed her there, at least, while she was awake. She frowned in her sleep and he stifled a laugh. It was an entirely new experience for him. He'd never felt this way about any other woman before. Even the beautiful, sweet Isolde had never made him feel the elation he felt when he held Aruna in his arms.

And that was why he slipped out of the inn without waking her. He would not risk her seeing him do what he had come to Windhelm to do. Stealing was not the worst crime he'd committed during his time as a bandit, but he'd hurt a lot of people that way. And he was about to do it again. He'd be damned if he was going to see the disappointment in Aruna's eyes if she caught him breaking into a hardworking farmer's home to steal everything of value that the man owned.

Just this one job, he told himself as he slipped, silent as a shadow, through the dark, empty streets of Windhelm. One job, I get Karnwyr back, and then I'm done with the Guild for good.

He evaded the patrolling guards easily as he made his way to the farmer's home. Torsten Cruel-Sea was a wealthy man and owned a mansion in the city. He'd once enlisted the help of the Thieves Guild when a rival guild had looted the corpse of his murdered daughter, Fjotli, and stolen her heirloom pendant. Bishop didn't know the details, but apparently, after the agents from the Thieves Guild had eliminated the rival guild and retrieved the pendant, Cruel-Sea betrayed them and set the guards on them. Thrynn and Sapphire had barely escaped with their lives and, of course, had not been paid. Bishop's job was now to send Cruel-Sea a message by stealing whatever valuables he could carry, including stealing back the daughter's pendant.

Had he not been coerced into the job, Bishop wouldn't have blamed the Guild for what they were doing. It was bad business to renege on a deal with anyone, least of all a criminal organization like the Thieves Guild. Cruel-Sea likely deserved this. Bishop only wished he weren't the one to execute it.

He reached the mansion and paused to study it. The windows were dark, and he couldn't hear a thing. He hoped that meant everyone inside was sound asleep; the last thing he wanted was a complication. It had been a long time since he'd stolen anything, and longer still since he'd broken into someone's home. He hoped his skills hadn't dulled too much.

Bishop found a ground floor window that was clear of any potentially noisy obstructions and carefully opened it. He climbed inside and stood in the dark room for a moment, listening. From the faint glow of the moon outside, he could see that he stood in the kitchen. He crept forward silently, testing the floorboards for creaks. He slowly made his way into the main hall. Even in the semi-darkness, Bishop could see how opulent the mansion was. He shook his head; maybe he didn't feel quite so guilty about this, after all. The man could obviously afford to replace anything Bishop stole.

Well, almost anything.

He made quick work of the first floor, sifting through drawers and shelves and grabbing anything that would fetch a good price. His bag was half-full by the time he crept towards the stairs, where the Cruel-Sea family slept. He barely made a sound as he went up the steps. It was darker on the second floor, where most of the windows were behind the closed doors of the bedrooms, but Bishop's eyes had adjusted to the low light by then and he had little trouble navigating the second floor. The first room he entered was empty. After rifling through the bedside drawers and wardrobe, Bishop realized he was in Fjotli Cruel-Sea's room; Torsten's late daughter. Her locket was nowhere to be found in the room, but Bishop didn't expect it to be; it was likely kept in her parents' room. He sighed softly and slid a drawer closed. It was eerie, being in the bedroom of a dead girl. He just hoped she didn't haunt the place—after the little ghost girl in Morthal, he'd had his fill of spirits.