[AN: This (will eventually) follow on from the evil ending of the OC, which MotB sadly denied me. So, obviously, from a point onwards I'll be making stuff up. Please, forgive me in advance. Rated M for fights and language to follow.

The wind up on the walls was cold and bitter, but Esther found it fitting as she sat with her Keep at her back and her legs dangling over the edge of the wall, tapping occasionally to an off beat. She'd shed her armour and cloak, content with feeling the cold work its way into her bones and her very soul, finding it calming. In a few hours, they'd be going for the bridges, and despite her knowledge that sleep would be hard to come by in the days to come, she was restless.

The breeze picked up and with it came the all too familiar smell of burning and bodies, and yet the houses below looked peaceful, small plumes of smoke rising from chimneystacks as fires burnt down. Despite her uncaring attitude, Esther felt like she had to do something for the people who trusted her. West Harbour was gone now, and she had gone her whole life all but loathing the place, never really appreciating that it was her home, and that it had made her the way she was. It was one of the few regrets she had.

Eyes squeezed shut against the mocking tranquillity before her; the young Blackguard cast her mind back to when she had first set foot in Neverwinter. It was still a fresh memory, and even now Esther could smell the salty tang of the Docks, and the comforting smell of ale and vegetable stew from the Sunken Flagon. So many days had passed since then, and so many people. She had pushed most of them away in recent months, her personality getting gradually more prickly as her relationship with Bishop strengthened, and it was only now that she truly realised, and truly cared.

She heard someone step onto the walkway behind her, not trying to cover the sound of their feet. She didn't turn, could already tell who it was by the way he instantly sniffed the air, and crossed his arms over his bare chest. Bishop didn't mind the cold, either, or just couldn't feel it after all his time in the wilds.

"I didn't hear you get out of bed. You're learning, girl."

Esther smiled and leant back as the ranger moved up behind her, giving the back of her neck a gentle squeeze with his calloused fingers, a rare moment of affection in an otherwise stormy relationship. She could feel his hand shaking slightly, and there was an undercurrent in his tone that worried her. Had worried her for a few days now.

"I didn't want to wake you. I just needed some time to think." She turned her head as Bishop leant against the wall next to her; now able to look past his rugged good looks at the man she believed she understood beneath. It was a silly notion, but one she clung to. But she wouldn't ask him what was wrong, because that would only push him away, and she'd done enough of that already.

He shrugged as she gave her reasons and looked at the horizon, now blooming with the dull orange glow of the sun. Not a cloud in sight, the promise of a bright day. All the good it would do them.

'Better appreciate it,' he thought dismally, not taking his eyes off the sky, 'Not much chance of more sunrises where you're going.'

Then he turned his golden gaze to Esther, the orange light giving her pale skin a warm glow, making her dark red hair burn like living fire. She was still so young, despite what she'd been through. And she was having an effect on him that he wasn't entirely comfortable with. That much he had realised a few weeks ago, when he'd woke to find her head on his chest and a truly happy smile on her face, the first he'd seen in months, and had realised his heart was fluttering with pride at the fact that he was the one who made her happy. That wasn't right, not at all. That was the kind of stupid thinking that led to strings and mistakes.

Esther was definitely a mistake.

"Well, I'm going back to bed. Are you taking me to the bridges, or can I sleep in."

It wasn't a question, Esther realised, and she smiled sadly as she reached out to run her knuckles along his strong jaw, finding the feel of stubble familiar and comforting. She cupped the back of his neck and leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the mouth, dull green eyes closing so she could concentrate on his taste and scent. "I'm taking Zhjaeve and Casavir. You can sleep in."

She turned and dropped back onto the walkway, sweeping her hair off her shoulders and plaiting it loosely. She could hear Bishop's derisive snort, and knew he wasn't happy about her decision, but he'd have to live with it. She wouldn't risk taking more than two of her companions when the Keep was still threatened, and a team of Paladin, Cleric and Blackguard would have devastating effect on the undead, regardless of their numbers.

"Whatever," Bishop muttered before pushing himself away from the wall, following close behind Esther, but not touching her. Her heart ached a little at the loss of contact, but she'd put up with it, just as always.

---

The morning was as expected: bright, clear and promising warmth. Esther wobbled a bit as she placed her foot on the edge of her bed and strapped up her boots, trying to ignore Bishop's complaining at her noise and activity.

"Well I can't get dressed anywhere else, can I? Shut up and go to your own room if you don't like it, ranger."

She smirked a little as he did as he was told, for the moment, knowing the silence wouldn't last for very long. At last her heavy, bespiked armour was on and she could throw on her cloak and golden headband, looking over to give Bishop a knowing look as she strapped her katana on one hip, and Lorne's claimed falchion on the other. He had what, on any other face, would have been a pout, his arms behind his head and hair more ruffled than usual, kohl smudged down his cheeks. Esther leant over the bed to kiss him, and although he leant forward at first she noticed a look in his eyes that made her stop. A cold, angry look that made her freeze and her heart skip a beat. They stayed that way for a few seconds, Esther's eyes wide and confused, Bishop's narrowed to slits but betraying much the same emotion.

He finally turned his head away and closed his eyes, letting out a meaningfully long sigh. "Go on, they'll be waiting. Not like I'm going anywhere."

Esther straightened with a very much displeased look on her face, jaw set and lips pursed into a thin line as she stared down at Bishop's sprawled body.

'If you want an apology, you can forget it,' she reminded herself angrily, turning on her heel so her cloak whipped around her, giving Karnwyr a passing scratch behind the ear as he stood when she approached, his tail making dull thuds as it hit a wardrobe with each slow wag.

"See you later, then, if I don't die."

She didn't get a reply, and Esther felt her heart ache again, throwing the door open in frustration so it smacked against the wall and rebounded to close itself over, Karnwyr whining low in his throat as he turned his head to look at Bishop. The ranger just rolled over in bed with his back to the door, eyebrows furrowed as he kept his eyes tightly shut. He realised, with anger, that despite his greatest efforts not to care, he hoped above everything that Esther would come back unharmed.