Rated M but not pure smut, female character left nameless (so you can use your imagination), story begins in the earlier days of meeting Bishop. I do not own Bishop, and he'll be quick to tell you so.

Even the circling wolf sleeps at last.

I watched Bishop lay before me, bare chested, where a vibrant bed of tender grasses and spring flora lended a surprisingly soft bed. Below, the earth was warm. A volcanic stream ran beneath the light soil, tenderizing the young grasses, filling the air with rich aroma. I ran my hands along the plush fallen seeds of tundra cotton, and listened to the world in its fading light.

A chorus of bachelor birds sang to the resounding call of their season's potential mate. Just out of arm's length, wispy curvatures of grass encircled us, whispering. Their height was enough to wall out the outside world, away from bandits, the roving beasts... responsibility.

The ranger's chest rose and fell evenly in a motion that was calming just to watch. His typically knitted brows were now relaxed, and the urge to reach out and stroke his face was becoming difficult to ignore.

What a rare sight. The bold, mighty hunter vulnerable to whatever found him. Well, whatever got passed me. That thought brought a smile. "If you want a piece of her, you'll have to get through me!" When he first roared that to an onslaught of charging bandits, it almost caused me to choke in shock. Did he know what he said? Obviously if he did, he didn't care. The furiosity in which he rend through the attackers, after they had just about done the same to each other just hours ago, was awing. Savage, but loyal. All of the delicate rhythms of courtship, all of the bards' and birds' songs, were shadowed under the intensity of his dance in blood, undeniably fierce.

He knew what he was doing, and that failure meant death. A shiver rolled down my spine just to recall.

Before that instance, we'd been bickering about the stupidest little things. He was insufferable, but mentally challenging; I could get the better of him two steps ahead, and then he'd catch my tongue and end the conversation in a way I'd never anticipated.

He did care. But was impossible to find.

Whenever this man slept, it were as though he fell off the face of the world. Looking around only brought the sound of wind, the occasional fox. The hunter hid himself very well, just tacking another point onto mistrust. Yet, whenever she lay down; be it on a bedroll, between two rocks in the wilderness, an inn, he was always a formidably looming figure, keeping avid watch. Every time he vanished, he assured I was no challenge to find again- as if I went far without him. A tracker, indeed. Little had I known he would be tracking me.

This was no accident. If he was laying here, so close I could reach out and touch him, it was because he wanted me to. So slowly, my hand reached out, stopping just short of his cheek, quivering with hesitation. I could only imagine what sarcastic thing he'd pop out with if he woke up to that, and Gods knew if he'd ever try this again.

I drew away.

Another yawn was straining the back of my throat, demanding to be released. I was already in a paper thin robe, allowing the freshly cleaned gear to dry out. Between his slow breaths and the perfect beauty of deepening twilight, fatigue weighed my body down toward the beckoning bed of grass.

This indented haven in the glade was an oval, with room just barely enough for one more- right next to him. I stole another look at the peaceful version of Bishop, engraving the almost innocent image to memory, and moved ever so slowly toward his side.

His radiant heat hit me the moment my hand pressed down to guide my move. It must have taken me an eon to shift from sitting, to hold back every hair on my head from so much as brushing his skin. I held my breath, summoning every stealth lesson I'd ever payed attention to as I reclined gracefully onto my back next to him.

I immediately regretted that decision.

"Ah-!" I yelped out, sharp honey eyes boring into mine a breath away. A dull pressure tightened my wrists, holding them firm, and a solid heat suddenly settled heavy upon my stomach.

"What in THE HELL do you think you're doing?" Bishop didn't ask for answers, he demanded them. Eye to eye, all I could see was that liquid gold, shimmering like a poised blade.

"B-B-Bishop.." The initial trained reflex that drew my muscles taught went slack, confusion lining my delicate features. The weight on my wrists moved away equally as quick, but he wasn't going to let me up so soon.

"Is my name, princess. Did you forget how to use your tongue?"

I frowned at him deliberately. "What are YOU doing?" I glowered back in disapproval, but the intensity of his gaze, its unpredictability, made me wary.

He didn't answer with words. I felt my face go flush with color, heart skipping a beat as his hands patted down the thin fabric of my robe. The feminine cloth offered so little in the way of protection, that he might as well have been touching me naked. Oh, how I had misjudged that purchase when the lady was hastily pushing out clearance items to pack up and move to a place without dragons. The pastel grey 'comfort garment' was almost free.

It was but a second before his brief frisk over my wriggling form halted over a dagger strapped to my upper arm under the long sleeve, within reach through the collar of my robe. My eyes widened as I saw the intent contemplative look on his face, that he may just reach in and fetch it. "Don't even think about it!"

Still, I regarded him sorely. Did he REALLY think I was going to stab him while he slept? Rob him of his share of septims collected through their shared bounties? Bishop.. How could you ever think that? He should have known better. If she was going to back stab him, she would have by now- they both knew that, didn't they?

The hurt and surprised, somewhat pained look in my face must have convinced him. As soon as he had pounced, he was now laying back on his side, eyes dark, regarding me with a stoic silence.

"Did you really think I'd hurt you?"

"A man can't be too sure." He reached to claim my hand, fingers light and careful as he turned over my palm. I let him, still a little upset and confused.

"Did I hurt you..?" His voice sounded in a way it never had before, quiet and low. He gingerly inspected, looking for any marks, and I couldn't help noticing his every movement.

"No.. I'm fine, but what was that about?" Whatever irritation I had faded with him returning to a more relaxed form, and for once, there might be answers.

Silence. He put my hands back down and I searched him. His jaw had set, but his gaze was sweeping the tips of the grass, as if seeing something within them that was invisible to anyone else. "I'm not used to..this. You were moving so slow that I thought you were going to jump me."

"You were awake?" I blinked.

"With the way you were stomping the grass like a she bear? How could I not be."

My brow twitched. "I was tired, hunter. There isn't anywhere else to go." I decided to end this before he got out of hand. "Now, are you going to flap your yap all night, or will you let us sleep?" Us. The words had just rushed out so fast.

I knew he preferred traveling at night in these parts, and that the only reason he didn't was out of bending to my own preference.

"What are you wearing..?"

My breaths came measured as we resettled, it wasn't like me to sleep flat on my back and in rolling toward my side, it put us closer than we ever had been short of fleeting moments that felt like fire. Sitting this close to the fire had to be a bad idea, even for a mage.

"The shop lady called it a 'comfort robe.'"

"Is the knife part of that comfort?"

I could feel him leaning closer, his eye level somewhat above mine, causing me to look ever slightly upward. "A woman can never be too careful." I mocked, watching his jaw turn. Was he now appalled that I would think he would hurt ME? Would I be in this silly little nightgown if I questioned that? "It's just a measure of safety, like laying close by you. For animals or something."

It could have just been me, but his chest may have puffed a bit. "You feel safe. Laying by me."

"Yes." The word came flat, did we HAVE to play these stupid games?

"Well, in that case.."

I gasped, his hand so intrusively fetched into my robe through the color. His hand grazed my collar bone, over my shoulder, and a metallic 'shink' sounded in my ear as he drew the only weapon I still had on me. It landed somewhere in the grass, and as I turned to try to pinpoint where, I caught his amused smirk when I glanced back.

"What purpose does that serve?"

"You don't need it." The depths of his eyes wouldn't let me escape. I felt his chest pull closer, and the air around me warmed.

"I could just shout.. What is a little dagger going to do to you?"

"It's not that.." There was that hard, somewhat distant look again.

"Then what is it?" I pressed him. Enough, enough with the games Bishop.

"I don't sleep well with others." A rugged breath trailed the end of the sentence. "I've been known to wake up, in the dead of night. The littlest thing sets me off."

The image of him throwing someone down, holding a blade to their throat came to mind. Just because they'd been too close when he woke up. I was beginning to forge together the pieces. How he slipped off into the woods and vanished to take a midday nap, staying up all night, saying nothing about it and looking at me like I was the weirdo.

Very tentatively, my hand reached out, and his eyes followed the hesitant motion, but he said nothing. Finally, my fingertips grazed the stubble of his shadowed face, thumb brushing below his lip as I tried to more confidently settle my hand on his handsome face. "You won't hurt me." I reassured him, locked dead on his eyes, but gentle.

His brows dipped, eyes also veiled into that shadow. His hand trailed down my arm, sliding back the sleeve of the robe, then passing over it before he jerked the touch away. "Of course I wouldn't. I never sleep anywhere near you."

Annoyance pushed away any tease of his moving my clothing. "Just..Try it." I coaxed. "Karnwyr never bothers you, right?"

His deadpan eyes were enough of an answer.

"So it will be like Karnwyr! You'll just get used to me."

"You're comparing yourself to a bitch?"

My bottom lip fell a bit. Oh, it was so, so temping to smack him sometimes, even now- playfully, but under the circumstances, that wasn't an option.

"A-roo." I spoke the words as flat as his gaze. He melted into a hearty laughter, to which I actually smiled and laughed along. The sound fell silent as his veined arm encircled the small of my back like a band of dwarvian steel, holding me flush against his body. My breath came slow, lids fluttering a second as I gathered my barrings to look up at him. His heart hammered against my chest, and he watched me swallow.

"Fine. You can be my bitch." He sported a devilish grin.

So quickly, my temper flared, a pout forming as I was about to give him a piece of my mind. It only seemed to amuse him more, a warm light dancing in those autumn eyes.

I bit him. On the subject of dogs, not being able to hit him, on an impulse I sharply nipped a little spot on that bare broad chest of his, scented of pine and leather, taking in a mixture of fresh dew and salt. I heard him growl, and his muscles went taught under me. His hand cupped my face, and before I could offer a retort, his thumb was lightly grazing between my lips, as if daring me to do it again.

Surprise shown on my features, eyes flitting from his hand up to his face, were he looked to be torn between toying amusement and something challenging. I wasn't thinking. My mind had stopped. There was just my struggles at breath and his encapturing face. As if undecided about challenging that 'dare' with another nibble, or just moving away, the very tip of my tongue darted softly against the rough pad of his thumb in withdrawing from his caress.

He gave another growl like low groan, moving closer as I lay back down. Like a wolf, slowly stalking wounded prey, no rush, but always present. His hand slid again over the cloth of my robe, between my legs, and he used my thigh as leverage to turn my hips, picking me up slightly and positioning my rear toward him with relative ease.

I staggered out a gasp, somewhat alarmed. "Bi-Bishop..!" He kept my leg somewhat parted, until I felt him fit tightly to my back, groin snug into the heat between my legs. His hand finally moved, sliding up over the curve of my hip, to rest flat on my stomach, tucking me as close as possible.

"So you like taking it like a wolf, huh?"

"I-I've never taken it at all!" There was little time to think of words, completely cloaked in his scent, his heat, the obvious swell presented between my legs, hidden between his leather and my sheer robe, but impossible not to notice. He didn't grind, just pressed, letting me feel the solidness nestled at my womanhood.

"What? You mean after the hundred men circling at your feet to whimper at your every beck and whim, you're still a virgin?"

My ears were hot. "Yes.. I've..never been deflowered." And would have no business telling him that, if not for the presence weighted on her tailbone, an aura of pure masculinity.

His breath exhaled across my ear, and the hand on my belly lightened, losing its intent.

I felt woozy, even laying down, our hearts pounding together, his breath on the nape of my neck. I felt his lips press to my skin, my hair brushed aside with his nose to where his breath had fallen, a small passing gesture just as much as the flick of my tongue had been.

He wasn't going to try anything? I found it hard to relax with him so close, he left his hips where they were, and the hyper awareness of every subtle shift and flex drove me crazy. My hand circled his arm weakly, mind racing to try and comprehend that they were really here. One moment they were fighting like children, the next, about to honor the call of spring.

But I couldn't, I was the Dragonborn. Having him relentlessly tackle her battles for her, never hesitating to come before harm's way if it kept her from an extra arrow, could lead to blood on her head that she just could live with. His.

If she gave herself to anyone, it might just be this crass hard headed ranger, the man who made her run with the wind and perch high at the peeks, bow in hand to embrace the living wilds together. If she ever accidentally became heavy with a child, like the tavern wenches usually did- and for her- that was a fate worse than death, his seed was of a strong tenacious survivor. A man worthy to sire an heir by the Dragonborn.

I was sure, if that ever happened, he would vanish into the wind to never be seen, and that tender little babe would breath life in a world at the throat of war. A war I brought right to the doorstep every day- hell, there wasn't even a home TO go back to right now. Would Lydia make a good nanny?

..

...

No, probably not.

But it wasn't as though I'd never fantasized about capturing the eye of a smoking stud, few as they came in this land of withered farmers and the recruiters taking any young male of physical value. A fleeting, unrealistic fantasy to stoke the fire on a cold night in a snug bedroll.

At least Bishop fought for no man but himself.

I lay in silence, feeling the temporary time our souls were close enough to meet, to touch and feel warm in this cruel strengthening world. He had gone alone all these years, survived by the maw of a cannibalizing wolf. Turning over, I allowed myself to dip my cheek into the crook of his shoulder, caught the gaze that was observing me with a fierce intensity.

"I'll never run a dagger through your heart, I have no reason to steal from you." My words were low, almost a whisper, rubbing my cheek on his muscled arm, trying to find a comfortable spot in the nuzzle.

His words were gritted lowly, like he was trying to compose himself together. "And I'll never turn you in for that bounty on your head..."

My half lidded eyes opened slowly. "The one for me being a vampire?" I half heartedly nipped at him again, grazing my little canines on his shoulder.

"What?"

I smirked, peering up to him. "You know, I'd always wondered if you were secretly a Lycan.. That would explain.. ..a lot of things."

"Are you really..a vampire?" His tone had risen, abandoning whatever thought had been tearing him up before.

"Noo." I almost groaned, could the man take a joke?

"Don't kid like that. I could believe it." His shoulder flexed, unnerved by the last 'bite.'

"And I could believe you're a werewolf."

"Ha!" He all but rolled his eyes, head sinking back.

"Hmn. .. . If I were a vampire, would you turn me in?"

"If you're still as beautiful as you are now? No."

All of the excitement and today's trek was tiring, his warmth was comfort despite the roaming thoughts and how..close..he'd been. Just two tiny layers of fabric had separated him from doing what males were born to do.

But he had stopped.

She smiled, finding a comfortable place right up against his chest. The crickets had begun to replace the birds, a new song of nightlife as even the sun lay down to rest. "Goodnight Bishop..."

He grunted softly, squeezing me once. I already knew he'd be up keeping watch for a long while. "If you're a maiden, why did you ask me to come with you in the first place?"

I thought about my earlier decision, that if it were going to be anyone, it would be someone like him. "I trusted you."