Disclaimer: NWN2 is not mine, therefore neither are the cannon characters who make an appearance. The idea of Valah Leonarii isn't unique - she's a warlock, fairly high level, but nothing particularly special other than being only half-human (you can make your own mind up what the other half is).

Warnings: Spoilers if you've not got Bishop in the party yet (I think Ember occurs very shortly after that). Rated for language and sexual situations.

AN: My first foray into NWN2 fanfic. Random scene between the PC and Bishop sometime after the Ember trial but before going after Aldanon.

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She couldn't sleep. It was odd, all the death she'd seen, the deaths that she'd been responsible for both directly and indirectly, yet this one massacre haunted her. The others were asleep, taking advantage of the Greycloaks still posted at Old Owl Well to get a full night's rest as they passed through, uninterrupted by watches. For the first time in days, she was alone with her thoughts. And those thoughts were full of the massacre at Ember.

Valah sighed, glanced back over her companions – making sure they were all still sound asleep – and then quietly walked away. Why couldn't she shake off the ghosts of Ember? She'd brought their killer to justice – hadn't she? Or was it simply that she felt more responsible for their deaths than any others? Valah knew she wasn't a paragon of righteousness, she'd actually been a bit of a hellion when she'd first left West Harbour, but the people of Ember had been slaughtered – just so the blame could be pinned on her. Despite the fact that she hadn't been directly responsible, she was still indirectly responsible, and it chafed at her already-thin conscience.

Escaping into the nearby copse, Valah threaded through the trees until the flickering light of the Greycloak camp was lost. Her surroundings were still clear to her sight – a 'gift' of her…unknown…heritage. Oh, she was half human, no doubts on that score, it was just the other half that was a mystery. Whatever it was, it had left her with distinctively coloured hair, too-pale eyes, and was probably also responsible for her instinctive command of magic. Not that she was a wizard or a sorcerer mind you, oh no, she wasn't one of those limp-wristed, over-inflated fops. Sorcery or swordplay, as a warlock she was equally adept at both.

Something moved, only a shadow of movement, no sound accompanying it, but it was enough to make her react. Valah whirled, catching the figure by the shoulder and following through with the movement to slam them into a tree. There was a somewhat surprised 'oof' as she closed with them, her dagger – another heirloom of her unknown origin – at their throat.

"Knew I liked you for a reason." The figure grinned, sounding slightly winded, but not at all concerned about the knife at his throat.

"Bishop." She muttered in mild disgust. So much for spending the night alone with her thoughts. "If you've come to flirt," she warned, sheathing the dagger again, "you can go away again."

"Oh?" She'd relaxed on discovering who it was – big mistake. Valah found herself whirled around and securely pinned against the same tree Bishop had just been slammed into. "Sounds like you're afraid flirting's all I'm good for." She said nothing, just strained against his grip on her wrists – if she could get one hand free… But Bishop knew it as well, and wasn't about to let her get loose, not at this stage at least.

"Do you want me to scream?" She hissed, not sure whether she was bluffing or not. It was true that she enjoyed flirting with the ranger, that she found him attractive, but – and this she wasn't about to admit to anyone – she hadn't exactly had much opportunity to explore the more…practical…side to sex in West Harbour, and life had simply been too hectic since leaving it. But this aggression, this demanding, domineering assault by Bishop was awakening something in her, some instinct perhaps, that she'd not felt before. It felt…good, exhilarating in fact, like a fight, but with an entirely different outcome in the offering.

"I'd love you to scream." Bishop whispered in her ear, the full length of his body pressed against hers. "But the others might…misinterpret it." She shivered, and not just because Bishop had just grazed her neck with his teeth. "So what do you say?" He asked. "Enough flirting?"

"Yesss…" She hissed. Bishop chuckled darkly, drew back enough that she saw his deliciously wicked smirk, and then he was pressing his lips against hers, forceful and demanding. She responded in kind, pushing awkwardly forwards, away from the tree trunk until he pressed against her even harder, slamming her back into the wood hard enough that only her circlet saved her from concussion.

A growl of frustration vibrated through her throat and chest. She wanted more, but whilst Bishop might have asked if she'd had enough flirting, she noticed he'd never said anything about ending his teasing. But she wasn't out of tricks yet. Valah strained to break free from the grip of his hands, forcing him to concentrate on pinning her in place. Her arms and torso securely anchored, that left Valah free to wrap her legs around the unsuspecting ranger's waist. Bishop seemed pleased, if anything, by the new development. He broke away from their fierce kiss, to laugh, slightly breathlessly.

"My fierce lioness." He declared, finally releasing her wrists. Immediately she clung to him, made weak where she was caught between the strength of the tree and the strength of his undeniable masculinity. "Mine." He repeated, and slid his hands up behind her back, lifting her away from the tree. Valah watched the monochrome trees whirl around them as Bishop moved them a dozen paces to the far side of the copse. Could he see in the dark as well, she wondered. He'd never shown any sign of the ability before, but he moved now with perfect confidence, and without making much noise.

There was a bedroll already here, she realised, Bishop's bedroll. But, hadn't he been sleeping with the others in the camp? Maybe not everyone had been as asleep as she'd thought. He laid her down, not roughly, but not gently either. Valah didn't care, part of her relished the way the ranger had taken control, the way he was proving and exerting his dominance. Another part of her also noted that he was going to be in for a surprise if he thought he could somehow use this to his advantage in any other interaction between them.

Bishop kissed her again, teasingly this time, worrying at her lips with his teeth before moving to nip at her neck. She hissed and shivered at the sensation, the absolute vulnerability she felt, with his teeth so close to her throat, sparking that strange new instinct in her once again. Distracted, she barely noticed his hands working down her sides, finding and unfastening the catches of her armour with contemptuous ease. Bishop knelt up, dragging her with him, and briefly pulled away to harshly remove the light scale surcoat that was her outer layer of armour. The circlet on her head caught as the surcoat came off, and was discarded with it to one side.

Their lips met again, fierce, hungry. They tussled for a moment, both fighting to undo the remaining layers of the other's clothing, to reach skin. By mutual agreement they gave in, and turned their attention to their own clothes instead. Jerkins, shirts and bracers were quickly discarded, and they pressed together again, mouths working hungrily at each other. Valah raked her nails down Bishop's back, making him groan and pull her tighter to him. She slid, now sat with his knee pressed firmly into her crotch. The pressure made her arch backwards, rocking against him and panting as he bit a trail down her neck, as he moved even lower to assault her breasts. Her hands clutched convulsively at his shoulders, nails leaving sharp crescents in his skin. The pain only seemed to spur him on.

Her head, then her back, hit the ground, and suddenly she was being smothered by his weight as Bishop removed first her, and then his own remaining clothing. She felt panic warring with eagerness – rational thought battling with instinct – and squashed it ruthlessly. If it hurt, she could handle pain. If it wasn't a experience she cared to repeat, she simply wouldn't repeat it. But she wasn't going to know anything for certain unless…

Valah raked her nails across Bishop's naked back and sides, teasing, encouraging, goading. He shuddered, then caught both her wrists, sweeping them up above her head and pinning them there with one hand. She struggled, a token gesture, and then she arched and thrashed in surprise as his free hand slipped unexpectedly between her legs. Coherent thought vanished, lost in a haze of dizzying pleasure. Bishop was certainly no amateur at this.

She howled as she came, the sound swallowed by Bishop's mouth on hers. He rode her motions beneath him as though she hadn't moved at all, his domination only heightening her experience. And when she thought she couldn't get any higher, he replaced his fingers with his erection, and Valah flew.

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He'd been right, Bishop smirked to himself, she was a virgin – or had been anyway. She'd been so confident he hadn't been certain, not until she'd reacted so strongly, first to his fingers, and then to his cock. She was his now, no chance of losing her to any other. A first experience like that and, well, he hated to say it, honestly, but she was spoiled for anyone else. The paladin would be too gentle, too conscientious for her now, and who else did that leave as a rival, the dwarf?

He would have to be careful, of course, in his influencing of her. It needed to be subtle, so that she didn't realise what was happening, so that she refused to see it when her other 'friends' tried too late to rip her from his grasp. She had to think that she was in control still, that he understood this changed nothing between them in the course of their adventures. Only he knew this had changed everything, because sense-memory was a true bitch like that. Every time she looked at him she would remember, and the shivers would run up and down her spine. Every night she would wonder, whether he would come to her, or she would go to him.

She was lost, and the beauty of it was, she didn't even realise it.

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AN: I love Bishop's character, but I'm also playing the 'evil' line now (with a different character, whose tale I may begin posting up here at some point in the future), so I like the 'I'm going to corrupt her' line Bishop took here (especially since Valah was a neutral-leaning-towards-good character). Comments and criticism (even if it's just 'whew, hot!' or 'Iwuv Bishop 2') welcome.