Author's Note: This is me writing out my fantasies about Bishop, the Chaotic Evil Ranger from Neverwinter Nights 2. I have a terrible obsession with bad boys, like Zuko (from Avatar: The Last Airbender), Edmund Pevensie (from The Chronicles of Narnia, although he's only 'bad' in the second book), Damon Salvatore (from The Vampire Diaries)... and Bishop. So, here it is!
If you read this fic before, the meat of what was intended to be a one-shot is now Part III. I expanded upon it a little. If you have not read this before, enjoy!

Lust, Part I

Liara

Liara Me'Sol chewed on her lips nervously. In less than twenty-four hours, she would have to duel Lorne Starling, the brute of man who followed Torio Claven everywhere, hounded her like the Barbarian he was. Liara wondered what exactly was going on between them, and then thought better of her wondering. She felt sorry for Lorne, though. He was Bevil's older brother… how would Retta feel if she knew her elder son was caught up in this evil? Liara shook her head and took a deep breath. She missed Bevil, but more as a friend than anything else. The more she thought about Bevil, the more she believed that her foster-father, Daeghun, had been correct: Bevil would have only slowed her down.

She looked up at the statue of Tyr and sighed. She didn't worship this god, yet she felt as if He was watching over her in His temple. Tyr seemed to be the god the majority of Humans worshipped. He was whom the Paladins and most Monks looked to for guidance. As for Liara, she worshipped Mielikki, as many Rangers did. She was the goddess of the forests.

Liara's eyes dropped down to her slim hands, and she gazed at small scars which flawed her deep brown, nearly black skin. Daeghun never did learn who Liara's father was, but the race answer was easy by tossing a glance her way. He had been a Dark Elf – a Drow – and it showed. Esmerelle had been a Sun Elf, with yellowish skin and blonde hair, as Daeghun had described her. Liara's skin tended towards her father's color; and her hair was light blonde, nearly white; her eyes were a vivid orange, but not red. She was immensely proud of her Elven blood, even if her appearance made most people avert their eyes.

Despite her somewhat evil appearance, Liara upheld the law as much as she could, and helped everyone she was able. Growing up in West Harbor had been difficult, but after she left, she realized how much she had taken for granted. She could spare a gold coin or two for the needy if they asked.

She was still looking down when the priest entered.

"Your time for personal reflection has passed, and visitors are permitted. You have… quite the assortment of people waiting to see you. Shall I let them in?" he asked.

Liara smirked and nodded.

"Very well," the priest said, and left.

I'll bet he's never seen so many different types of people in his life, Liara thought. Neeshka's sure to give him a scare. In fact, most people were more scared of Neeshka than of Liara. Neeshka was part demon, and there was no hiding her horns or tail. Liara had bonded with her, though, perhaps because they shared the same misfortune of being judged by first glance. Liara thought of Neeshka as a friend… a best friend. A sister, even, though it might be too soon for that.

The first person in was Khelgar. He waddled in on his short Dwarven legs and smiled wide at Liara. She smiled back.

"So," he said, "are yeh prepared fer yer ass te git handed te yeh?"

Liara smirked. "Not if I can help it."

"'Cause I'se jus' thinkin' 'at maybe I could take yer place, yeh know…" Khelgar looked down at his feet. "I'd hate fer us te git all this way fer nothin'."

"Thank you, Khelgar," Liara said quietly. "But I want to do this myself."

"'Gainst 'at giant, Lorne?! Yeh gotta be out'er yer senses!"

"I have my wits about me, Khelgar. I know whom I am fighting, and I'll do this on my own." Liara swallowed inconspicuously. "If I let someone else fight him, what will that prove? That I am a coward, no better than Torio? I will not have that."

Khelgar sighed. "Fine. Suit yerself."

He turned and bumbled away, muttering to himself all the way. Sand showed himself in next, walking with a certain arrogance that only one who had trained in the arcane arts could.

"Okay, Liara. I whipped up some potions that could give you an edge in the duel tomorrow," Sand said quietly, his dry voice matching his name. He pulled out some small vials from the pocket of his robe. "This one will conceal you for a time, this one will make you faster, this—"

"Do you really expect me to cheat tomorrow?" Liara interrupted. "Sand, you know me better than that. I'm surprised you would suggest such a thing." Liara raised a white eyebrow.

Sand cleared his throat and pinched the end of his long nose. "Sometimes, the rules can be bent, especially when you know the other side will be cheating."

"I appreciate your concern," Liara said, "but I won't accept those."

Sand grunted. "Very well, let us see how you fare against Lorne on your own, then." He turned on his heel and exited with the same arrogance with which he had entered.

Liara rolled her eyes. She knew Sand meant well, but sometimes he rubbed her the wrong way. Liara chuckled aloud at the pun.

"Hey," Shandra's kind, alto voice hung in the air. Liara suspected she would make a lovely singer, if Shandra could find the nerves to do that. "You doing okay?"

Liara nodded, and stood to hug her friend. "I've been better, but I'm fine, thanks."

Shandra squeezed Liara around the shoulders, and her long, sandy blonde hair tickled Liara's cheeks.

"I just want to wish you luck," she said, pulling away to look Liara in the eyes. "You've done so much for me and…" Shandra's brown eyes looked glossy with the tears threatening to spill. "I… Be careful, okay?"

"Why is everyone acting like I'm going to die tomorrow?" Liara asked with a sigh. "I'll be careful, I promise."

Shandra bit on her lip and nodded. "I think Neeshka was after me." She left quietly.

Liara smiled when she saw Neeshka come in, and the two embraced quickly.

"I'm not going to cry or anything," the part-demon girl said, her higher-pitched voice carrying a hint of teasing directed at Shandra, "because I know you're gonna kick some ma-ajor ass tomorrow."

"Thanks," Liara said, and she meant it.

"And, uh…" Neeshka looked around and leaned down to whisper, "We can't have you dying a virgin, so don't die!"

If Liara's cheeks could turn pink, they would have. She couldn't remember how the whole party had learned of her virginity, or who had brought it up, but everyone knew. Liara had never really thought about having sex with anybody. There was no one in West Harbor in whom she had taken interest, and so she'd never seen reason to spend the night with someone.

"Casavir would deflower you, I'm sure," Neeshka said, and then laughed.

Liara rolled her eyes. "I'm sure."

"You know he would!"

"Yes. I like him, but…" Liara glanced off to the side. Casavir and she agreed on almost everything. They had the same morals and such, but…

"He doesn't excite you?" Neeshka finished the thought. She began scratching her arm.

"Precisely. Casavir is nice enough, but that's the problem. He's just nice."

"That Bishop, though." Neeshka fanned herself, smiling. "If you don't claim him soon, I will!"

Again, Liara felt her cheeks warm. Now Bishop was exciting. Sometimes, Liara felt his dark gaze on her, undressing her in his mind… and she liked it.

"Now he is not nice. He's a horrible person," Liara said, shaking her head. "I hate him. He enjoys killing people and he's rude and—"

"And?" Neeshka folded her arms over her chest and leaned to one side. Then she scratched her neck.

"And I'm totally attracted to him."

Neeshka giggled. "Finally, you admit it. I've seen the glances you toss his way."

Liara looked away to hide her sheepish smile.

"Well, I'll leave you alone now," Neeshka said. "I'll be watching you kick the crap out of Lorne from the stands tomorrow. And I think Casavir is nearby. My skin itches."

Neeshka showed herself out, and she was right – Casavir came in. He smiled at Liara kindly and took her hand in his. Liara didn't reject the hand-holding, but she didn't feel fully comfortable about it, either.

"You seem distressed," Casavir said. His voice was deep and full of concern. He rubbed her slim hand absently.

"I'm fine, thank you," Liara answered.

"You don't have to fight him tomorrow, Liara. I could take your place, be your champion."

Liara shook her head. "I already told Khelgar the same thing. I'm fighting Lorne tomorrow."

Casavir sighed. "You're being impossible. You could die."

"And so could you! But I won't die."

Casavir brought his hand up to Liara's face. "Liara, I—"

"Cas, don't." She leaned away from his hand.

The loving look he'd had in his blue eyes dimmed. "Very well," he said stiffly, releasing her hand. "I wish you well on the battlefield tomorrow."

Liara furrowed her eyebrows and looked away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." And truly, she hadn't meant to hurt him. There was so much right about Casavir. She and he could have a happy life together, when all this passed. So why was she holding back?

Liara cleared her throat. "Now is not the time to talk about this."

Casavir's smile returned. "Tomorrow, then."

"Until tomorrow," Liara said quietly as he left.