For mature audiences only! This is the second in a series of about 4 stories that I'd planned to write. So why'd I write the second one first? Simply because it was fun to write. In summary, you will probably see Bishop and Casavir in an entirely different light but not so far as to ruin their character's idioms. I figured it was time the fangirls had some good Bishop/Casavir reading to…..ah…expand our minds with. I couldn't believe it when I saw that no one had posted any m/m about these two yet. Their characters are so opposite and each full of angst that they were just dying to have a story like this written about them.

This story does contain some serious m/m so if you're offended by that sort of thing than don't read on. I was inspired by so many great stories on this site (perhaps you'll notice the tributes) that I decided to write my own. I may go ahead and write up the other three stories and post them here. Let me know if it's worth making more. The first story involves the oc kc and bishop and describes the first time he uses the amulet to sneak into her dreams. The third story puts Casavir in a rather precarious situation as he's captured by some female drow and Bishop comes to his rescue; but not until after having some serious fun with him first. The fourth story involves a bath house, Casavir, Bishop, the oc kc, 'nuff said. I've included hidden psychological meanings throughout this story (part 2) just for fun. The amulet mentioned is actually a part of a mod I'm developing and will be explained further in the first story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer ~ As always, I do not own Obsidion's Casavir or Bishop characters. If I did, then the oc would have been a lot less PG13.

The Amulet – Part 2

I.

The pain in his shoulder was getting worse. He sat down at the edge of camp, weary and exhausted from the day's fighting, thinking about how stupid he felt for looking away from that damn orc for only a moment to watch his knight captain behead an orc shaman. How marvelous she looked when she fought. Her red hair and pale skin looked like a swirling mass of fire and ice; flowing together in deadly harmony. At that single instance the orc he had just brought down by a critical shot from his bow managed to fire off a last shot from its crossbow, right at his heart. Bishop managed to dodge in time; however the bolt imbedded firmly into his left upper arm.

He winced at the memory and just wanted to forget it. Looking around at his companions, he saw his knight captain falling into a deep slumber having just been healed from her wounds by the paladin. He wished he had that kind of ability. It would be wonderful to touch her flesh and remove the pain of the fireball spell she had endured in battle. The other two, Neeshka and Sand, were already in their bedrolls, welcoming the serenity of sleep. He wondered to himself if rest would find him as easily this night while he was wrapped in pain from the bolt.

'Oh, hells. Here comes the paladin' he thought to himself, obviously intent upon checking his wound as well. Casavir, was one man that he was sure he would never understand. Even though Bishop goaded him at every opportunity, he never physically retaliated. Casavir would just stare at him, in that unwavering way he had, without revealing any emotion in his face. Bishop could never tell what he was thinking, and that intimidated him. Did he want to kill him? Perhaps, but he knew the paladin wouldn't act upon those thoughts and go against his vows. Did he want to redeem him in some way? Now, that was a laugh. No one would want to try to redeem him; a crude, immoral, malevolent and socially unacceptable ranger such that he was.

"Bishop, let me take a look at that wound."

"I'd rather die first" Bishop snapped in his usual demeaning voice.

"You just might if it doesn't get some attention soon and infection sets in."

"Hells….. fine. Go ahead and do your worst, paladin."

Casavir knelt down beside the wounded ranger and gently placed his hands upon his left arm, looking closely at the seriousness of the wound.

"Hey, careful! It's tender ya' know."

"It's hard to tell through your armor. Can you take it off yourself or do you need help."

Bishop narrowed his eyes and stared coldly at the paladin, who of course, stared right back at him, emotionless.

"I can do it myself." He tried to take the armor off himself but with little success. It seems buckles and straps just were not made for one-handed rangers. After what seemed like half an hour of wrestling with a single strap he finally gave up, exhausted. Casavir immediately stepped in and easily undid the straps and removed the armor being extra careful not to tug against the bolt wound. This kind of attention left Bishop at a loss for words. He had fully expected the paladin, his apparent competition for their leader's affections, to be rough and uncaring with him. On the contrary, the paladin was being very cautious not to harm him further. Was this part of his vows?

The shirt sleeve was a complete loss, so Casavir simply tore away the fragmented material, revealing the wound.

"That bolt is going to have to come out if I'm to heal you."

"Great, this day just keeps getting better and better." Bishop knew this was going to be bad. The bolt had penetrated deep into the muscle but had not gone all the way through is arm.

"I'm going to have to push it out the other side or it will do more damage."

"Damn it all. I was afraid of that."

Casavir chuckled, "it's kind of hard to picture you being afraid of anything."

"Hmph" was all Bishop could say. The paladin had no idea what kind of fears poisoned his mind. His past was brutal and violent, with no one ever there that he could depend upon. No one he could trust; a huge contributing factor to his present behavior.

The paladin gave Bishop a piece of leather, "here, bite down on this".

He broke off the feathered end of the bolt and Bishop paled. This was going to hurt. Casavir placed several items from his healing kit next to them in preparedness. He then got down on his knees straddling the left leg of the ranger and placed his left arm around Bishop's head and back, bracing Bishop's injured left shoulder with his hand. Bishop was immediately grateful the rest of his companions were asleep and would not see him in this questionable position. The paladin's knee seemed precariously close to his crotch, Bishop thought.

"I'm going to push it through on the count of three. Ready?" Bishop nodded and clenched his teeth against the leather.

"One…." Casavir pushed the bolt through with surprising ease before finishing the countdown.

"Aaaarrrrggghhhhhhh" Bishop strained into the leather. That was unexpected! This damn paladin was just full of surprises. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, and felt himself falling backwards, then stopped, caught by the paladin's powerful arms. Casavir held on to him for a moment, letting Bishop's forehead rest against his collarbone, ensuring that he didn't fall over and do more damage to himself.

"Bishop, you all right?"

Bishop spat out the leather strap "what happened to two and three?" he hissed into the paladin's chest.

Casavir chuckled again, it was amazing how unsettling it was when he laughed, Bishop thought. Was it because he hardly ever did so or because his deep voice sounded so rich and comforting; something that was foreign to the ranger.

"I didn't want the tension to build up in your arm and make it worse".

Before Bishop could respond, he laid the ranger down on his bedroll and reached for…… a healing potion. "Drink"

Bishop did as he was told without questioning this time. "Ugh, that's awful! You don't happen to have any stout in that healing kit do you?"

"That's the last thing you need right now, trust me." Casavir said as he rummaged around in the kit for some bandages.

'Trust you' Bishop thought to himself, 'well, that's not so easy for me'.

Casavir turned back to him, cleaned the wound, and expertly wrapped it. Placing one hand gently upon his wound and the other upon Bishop's chest, he chanted a small prayer and set a healing spell into motion. The warmth from the spell, or was it his hands, seemed to take the pain away from the throbbing wound.

"You've done this before?"

"Yes, I've seen many bolt wounds in my day. Okay, you'll be fine now, just get some rest." And with that he crumpled the ranger's disheveled hair with his hand. Then, realizing what he was doing, he immediately stopped and looked a little flustered.

"Sleep well, Bishop." He finally managed to say and walked off to his own bedroll.

"Yeah," Bishop said, still bewildered by the unexpected friendly treatment.

'just full of surprises.'

Bishop laid his head back and felt sleep overtake him.

II.

Several nights later, at the keep, a tired ranger stalked up and down the quite halls. Sleep could not find him tonight and he paced about the keep frustratingly. His mind was troubled with the events of the last few days. Why did that damn paladin have to be nice to him? It was so easy to hate, so easy and natural for him. But it was so much harder to wrestle with these unknown emotions that welled up inside him now. It was hard enough to deal with these feelings when he looked upon his knight captain; but now he had to struggle against the same thing when he looked at the paladin.

Unsure of what to do, he decided to head down to the kitchen and search for some of their knight captain's hidden stock of liqueur, the good stuff mind you. She wouldn't mind. She pretty much let him do whatever he wanted, short of shooting one of her companions between the eyes. He had asked her about that once. Why she didn't harangue him on his corrupt ways when she herself was a lawful individual. She had answered very simply "because I accepted you for who you are when you joined us. I don't expect people to change unless they want to and I don't try to force them." Those words both relieved him and also stung him to his very core.

On his way to the kitchen, he passed by Casavir's door. He stopped, unsure why, and listened. He could hear the paladin softly snoring away. About to leave, he heard mumbling, Casavir talking in his sleep. Curious, he paused again to listen but it was difficult to understand anything through the door; however, he did here one word clearly, 'Bishop'.

'Okay, what the hells is this about?' Not capable of patience this night, he slipped through the door, never making a sound. He could be extremely stealthy when he wanted to. He paced silently up to the side of the bed and looked down upon the sleeping paladin. He seemed so peaceful when he slept. The lines around his eyes were relaxed and his breathing slow and steady. He mumbled again and this time he could clearly make out, "look out Bishop." Casavir's sleep seemed troubled now, and he tossed about under the covers.

Bishop fingered the amulet that hung around his neck. The amulet Zhjaeve had given him to still the thoughts of others in his mind after his run in with the mindflayer who had used him for experiments. (More on this in part I) He could easily remove the amulet and slip into Casavir's dream to find out what was going through the man's mind. He had done it before with his knight captain; (once again, more in part I) only, he was concerned with what he might find.

The paladin had questions him about his past the other day, and Bishop had actually answered his questions. He wasn't sure what spurred him to do so. Perhaps it was the influence Casavir had gained over him since the night he had healed his wound. Perhaps he just wanted to get the questioning over with; that man was damn persistent when he wanted to be. Or, perhaps he was just tired of having to keep all the memories to himself wrapped up in a lonely world of self loathing. Casavir had listened intently, never interrupting him. Bishop told him about his recent past, his brush with the Lusken scum, and even managed to tell about some parts of his childhood. That was the worst part. Telling the paladin about all the people he had killed or hurt was for easier then bringing the tortured images of his abused past to the surface. When he had finished, he fully expected some kind of righteous lecture about the evils of his past and how he should redeem himself. But no, that's not what the paladin did. Casavir's penetrating stare seemed to soften somewhat and he put his hand on Bishop's good shoulder.

"Thank you for being honest with me. I know how hard it is to bring up ghosts from the past"

Bishop grunted and looked away.

"It's going to be okay, Bishop. You're among friends now." And with those words he punched him playfully in the shoulder, not the injured one, smiled, and walked away. 'He smiled?' Bishop thought to himself, 'I wonder how painful that was for him?'

Toying with the amulet a final time, he made his decision. Bishop sat down lightly on the bed and removed the amulet, setting it on the nightstand. Casavir's thoughts became immediately clearer to him. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to fall into the dream, just as he had done with the knight captain………..and immediately regretted doing so.

III.

Once the world stopped spinning and he could focus, Bishop viewed the dreamscape around him. He was hanging over a well (old owl well?) by ropes tied around his wrists. There were several men around him, Luskans, smirking at the precarious situation they'd placed him in. Great, apparently he'd given the paladin nightmares when he told him of his past. He knew that was going to come back and bite him in the ass one of these days.

"Don't worry Bishop, these enemies will not stand against us for long!" There was the paladin, right on time. Swinging his longsword with great skill and taking out the Lusken thugs. The paladin was not wearing his armor, only his cloth pants, shirt, and no shoes. Bishop smirked, 'Well, at least I'm not the only one who ends up dreaming that I'm still in my night attire'. The smirk dissipated when he looked down and noticed he was not in his armor but dressed similarly.

One Lusken, two Luskens, three Luskens, four. Casavir was taking out the thugs with ease and grace. It was quite thrilling to watch the man fight; always with his divine grace and fearless posture. Two of the Luskens had attacked him at once and he simply rammed his sword through the heart of one, sidestepped, and knocked out the other with a single blow of his mighty fist. Two thugs left. One was stalking around the paladin looking for an opening; the other ran up to Bishop and drew his dagger.

'Shit, so it's going to be one of those dreams' Bishop thought. The thug ran around to where the rope was tied and started to cut it as he sneered "Your friend may win this battle but you, you treacherous bastard, you will perish this night. I only regret we didn't get to torture you further."

'Figures.'

The ropes were starting to give.

"No" Casavir yelled out and with a whirlwind of speed he decapitated his opponent, turned, and flung his sword at the thug cutting the rope. It found its marked and pierced the Lusken through the heart. The damage was already done, however, and the rope creaked……….. then snapped.

'Well I hope what they say about dying in your dreams isn't true' he thought as he shut his eyes, but then he felt his body rammed by a powerful object, flown through the air and landed roughly on the ground beside the well. Casavir had run at him and jumped in time to tackle Bishop's falling body with enough force to send them both to the ground on the other side, the paladin landing on top of the ranger.

"Do you always have to save someone at the last minute, even in a dream?" he gasped struggling under the heavy weight of the paladin.

Casavir chuckled. There it was again, that unnerving deep laughter. Bishop felt shivers run down his spine at hearing it so close. It seemed to vibrate through the paladin's chest right into his.

"Ah, so this is a dream, thought so. I don't usually fight without any armor on". With this the dreamscape started to change around the two. They were now in a dark, grassy glade with a stream close by. It seemed to be just before dawn, judging by the lighting. Bishop could hear the water running over the rocks and even feel the wet dew against his back from the grass. This was a very realistic dream.

"Where are we?" Bishop said, still held by the weight of his rescuer. His wrists, still bound by the ropes, were now behind the paladin's head. Knocked there by the force of the tackle. He decided to leave them there since it offered some sense of control rather than holding them above his own head like a prisoner.

"It's a place I use to go to when I felt lost. I figured you would like it out here, in the wilderness and all."

"It's fine, are you going to get off me or what?" Bishop snapped.

A slight smile curled the lips of the paladin as he looked down at the ranger. "Perhaps."

Bishop was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. What was his game? In his past experience when someone puts you in this position then it was inevitably followed by being robbed, stabbed or raped.

"What do you mean?" he said doing his best to keep from sounding nervous.

"Well, if this is a dream, then I'm not entitled to maintain my usual conduct"

Bishop started to squirm. This was making him most uncomfortable; it wasn't being so close to the paladin that bothered him, it was not hating it. That was what was troubling him now. "What do you intend to do then?" He hissed.

"I intend to redeem you. To make you at least a little less evil then you usually are" the paladin said looking penetratingly into his eyes.

"You can't redeem me paladin. There's nothing in me that's the slightest bit righteous."

"I know, ranger; however, I plan to put something in you that is very righteous." And with this, Casavir let his head fall and kissed the ranger gently, letting his tongue run over his lips. Bishop tensed immediately, he certainly hadn't expected this. The paladin really was full of surprises. He instinctively started to struggle but immediately relaxed when he felt the paladin take his lower lip between his teeth and bite ever so gently. That action seemed to paralyze him with pleasure. 'What the hell's was going on? Was this some kind of paladin spell?'

"Isn't this going against some kind of paladin vow?" His voice seemed much smaller now, and unsure. He usually knew exactly what to say in every situation. Usually some kind of condescending remark; but this confused him. He was unsure whether to enjoy the touch as his body was telling him to do, or to fight it with every breath as his mind was screaming at him.

"No, not really. I'm just supposed to refrain from defilement. There was nothing mentioned about giving pleasure to someone when the greater good is at stake. Even if it does take some righteousness away from me, it will be worth it, and forgivable in Tyr's eyes, if I this helps you in some way."

Casavir trailed his kisses down Bishop's jaw to his neck, continuing the tormenting licks and bites. Bishop fought to keep his eyes open as the attention left his skin tingling. He placed his hand up under the shirt of the ranger and traced the well toned muscles of his side with his fingers up to his chest; slowing to rub over the tender nipples with the tips of his fingers. Bishop gasped and rocked his body unconsciously upwards into the paladin. Casavir responded in kind by grinding back into his groin. The ranger felt the paladin's growing excitement against his own straining within the cloth barriers.

Casavir's hand felt a patch of hair along the middle of the ranger's chest and he was abruptly aware that he wanted to see it bare. He removed his hand, grasped the collar of the shirt and ripped the flimsy thing open easily; revealing the ranger's toned chest framed beautifully by a small patch of soft brownish-red hair, much like what framed the ranger's jaw. That action, however, seemed to be a mistake.

Somewhere deep in the ranger's mind a torrent of buried fears awoke to the seemingly violent action. Memories of the past when he was younger and in the Lusken army were taking over. The violence of the hazings, the treachery of someone he thought he could trust but who took advantage of his youth and inexperience to force his submission into an act he did not desire; these memories came flooding back. The Luskan only wanted to please himself and making the act painful and violent seemed to please him more.

Casavir sensed the change immediately. Bishop's eyes looked wild and distant and he could feel the fear welling up inside the ranger beneath him. The ranger uttered a curse against some unknown Lusken and started to thrash. He tried to choke Casavir with his bound arms around his neck, much to no avail though, as the angle of his forearms wasn't right.

"Bishop!" Casavir tried to pry him out of his tortured memories. Casavir cursed himself for not expecting this. With Bishop's past he should have avoided anything that could be misinterpreted as violence. "Bishop" this time spoken more calmly, "look at me, it's Casavir. I'm not trying to hurt you." This seemed to work somewhat because he stopped thrashing about; although, the fear in his eyes was still evident. He had the look of a wolf that's been captured and tied to a stake amidst a mob of angry villagers. Casavir had seen that once in his younger days and that is exactly what the ranger reminded him of now.

"Bishop, I'm going to untie your wrists so your hands can be free, okay? You can strike me if you like, or you can trust me."

The paladin removed Bishop's arms from around his neck and sat up, straddling his lap. He took his bond hands and easily removed the ropes. Bishop seemed to be calmer now. Casavir waited momentarily to see if he would punch him, but he didn't. The ranger was doing a very good job at fighting his instincts, not throwing any punches and rubbing his wrists instead. He was still very quiet, though, and keeping a wary eye on the paladin's every movement.

Content that the immediate danger was over, Casavir placed his hands upon Bishop's chest. The warmth of his hands soaked through the flesh and Bishop's eyes half closed. He moved his hands up to Bishop's shoulders and massaged them some; trying to relieve the tension that had so quickly built up in them. He was rewarded with a slight sigh from the ranger.

Bishop's bad memories were rapidly fading away now. The paladin's hands felt amazing on his flesh. They were warm and kind, seeking only to give pleasure and heal old wounds, not to harm. Bishop consciously started to realize that he wanted very badly to trust this man. His eye shot open again when he felt the paladin move to take his own shirt off, revealing his heavily muscled chest and abdomen. Years of heavy swordplay had shaped him into the beautiful sculpture that he was. He barely had any hair on his chest and that seemed to make his pale skin seem even that much more pure.

Casavir readjusted his position so that he was lying on top of him again; the skin of his chest pressed firmly against the ranger's. Bishop looked weary once more, not wanting to acknowledge his own desires to be touched again by the paladin and fearing a relapse of his previous tortured thoughts. Casavir was prepared for it this time. He ran his hands through the ranger's unkempt hair and crumpled it just a bit, much like he had done several days before, and gave a slight smile at the ranger under him.

"I am not some Lusken dog that wants' to harm you, or take something from you that you don't want to give." Casavir said calmly, his rich voice washing over the ranger. "You can stop me anytime and I will comply; however, I hope that you'll let me continue and I can give you some form of contentment that you seem to so desperately need in your life."

'Damn this paladin' Bishop couldn't help but think, 'why does he always have to make so much sense'.

"Okay" was all he could manage to utter in a cracked voice. It was like his body and his mind were battling one another and neither wanted to give in.

Casavir responded with more light kisses on his mouth. Bishop started to react in kind so Casavir deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into the hot mouth of the ranger. Bishop started to breath heavily and gripped the shoulders of the paladin. Casavir thrust his pelvis into the younger man again, testing the waters, and was rewarded with a groan escaping from the ranger into his own mouth. He removed his hand from the ranger's soft hair and let it slide down his scarred and burned chest to his stomach. Curling his fingers, he let the backs of his knuckles softly trail against the bulge in the ranger's breeches. Bishop bucked slightly at the touch, wanting more. Casavir complied by opening his hand to caress the ranger's growing need through the cloth with long, slow strokes.

Leaving his hand where it was at, Casavir moved down the ranger to kiss his chest, taking extra care to tenderly attend to the scars as well. The paladin could not wipe the scars from existence, but he could take away the mental anguish they haunted Bishop with. He trailed his fingers up to the lacings of the ranger's breeches and untied them. The heat between him and the ranger seemed to ignite as he slipped his hand into his pants, following the trail of hair to Bishop's throbbing member.

Bishop was surprised as the silky fingers moved to stroke him. He had fully expected the paladin's hand to be calloused from the years of battle. 'Hmmmmm, maybe paladins have some kind of healing spell for that'. The warmth and smoothness of his hands took all of his thoughts away and he gasped at the paladin's skillful ministrations.

"Mmphf……. paladin, how many times have you done this to someone?" He gasped.

"Never to anyone but myself. A paladin cannot just take someone when he has a need you know. We have to find other ways of relieving ourselves."

'Wow, that was honest' he thought.

Casavir removed his hand, much to Bishop's disappointment, but only to remove the ranger's pants and his own as well. With the paladin's large, muscular body against his own, he started to feel panicky again. This is where things start to get tricky, and painful.

Casavir chuckled at his agitation, knowing full well what the ranger was thinking. To calm him, yet again, he simply half straddled him, putting his right leg between the ranger's, letting his own throbbing member rest against the ranger's scarred and muscular thigh. He replaced his hand to continue his caresses of the ranger and leaned up to kiss him again deeply.

Bishop felt completely rocked by this attention. He realized, as Casavir thrust gently and semi-consciously into his hip, that he hadn't done anything for his own pleasure yet. Instead he had been focused fully upon the ranger.

'What in the hell's did I do to deserve this?' he wondered.

"Sometimes when a person has suffered greatly in their life, the gods grant them some relief from those burdens" the paladin whispered into his lips.

'Oh, hells! I said that out loud?'

Casavir moved his hand down Bishop's shaft and teased his sac with the backs of his knuckles. Waiting again for Bishop's bucking to signal that his touch was wanted there. He stroked the large throbbing sac, starting at the bottom and then moving up to where it attached, listening to the moans of pleasure he was causing the ranger to produce. He then moved his hand further down, slipping a finger between his cheeks to stroke gently around the opening there. Bishop let out a yelp at the soft touch and then frowned at the amused expression on the paladin's face.

"You sound like a startled wolf" he half laughed softly.

"Whatever" Bishop stated with some indignity. He was about to come up with something more berating but the paladin made him forget it when he started to suck upon his collarbone. It felt so wonderful; the ranger wrapped his arms around his back, instinctively holding him closer. He bucked and jerked as the paladin continued working his finger around the opening; teasing it to make him utter his wild, animalistic noises.

He removed his hand and, from somewhere (it is a dream after all) opened a small glass flask and placed some of the oil upon his fingers. Replacing his hand between Bishops hot cheeks he started to rub the oil around his opening, slickening the flesh. Bishop had no idea this could feel so good and he cried out a half moan, half howl as the paladin slipped a finger inside him. He moved it in and out carefully, until he found a particular spot which made Bishop buck hard enough to almost throw him off.

"You've never been touched there before, have you?"

Bishop just grunted; too embarrassed to reply.

Casavir just smiled and slipped a second finger in, stroking that particular area with care.

When Bishop seemed to be comfortable to the pressure, Cassavir removed his hand and moved his groin in between the legs of the ranger. Kissing away the tension that started to form on the ranger's face in preparation for what was to come, he gently spread his legs a little more.

"Paladin……..I….."

"Do you want me to stop?" he said freezing, looking seriously into the rangers eyes. Bishop looked back at him, studying him carefully. He could feel the paladin's need throbbing against his own. Casavir wanted him badly, and yet, he could see it in his eyes that he would halt all his actions and deny his own need if Bishop asked him to.

"I…….no……don't stop yet"

Casavir moved so that the head of his own throbbing member was between his cheeks, just upon the opening, and moved his hand back to stroke Bishops leaking cock as he sucked on the beautiful adam's apple of Bishop's neck. With a gentle thrust, he moved himself inside of the ranger.

"Oh……Gods!" the ranger gasped, gripping the shoulders of the paladin, now his paladin.

"Umphf………Bishop" Casavir whispered into his ear, "you feel so hot……..so …..good".

He moved lightly at first, allowing the ranger time to adjust. Then the thrust became stronger and more frequent, as Casavir's growing need was finally being attended to. He rocked into the ranger like this for some time, elegantly stroking Bishop's cock in time to the rhythm. The ranger moaned and writhed beneath him. 'The ultimate reward', Casavir thought, for his all his effort. Just when Bishop thought his world would explode in pleasure, Casavir slowed and gripped the base of the ranger's cock, delaying the release.

"Ahhhhh………wh….what are you doing paladin" he hissed, looking rather perplexed.

Casavir looked down upon Bishop and stated simply, "I want you to say my name".

"What!..…..I don't do that". 'Surely I can grant such a simple request. He's done so much and asks for so little' he thought, but his mind fought against him once again; it was his nature to retaliate and this went completely against his nature.

"Really?" Casavir said with a slight hint of amusement in his voice. He continued to thrust gently into Bishop, and moved his other hand to his leaking cock. He skillfully ran his fingers up Bishop's thick shaft and slid his thumb up between the two folds of his head to the leaking opening. Bishop moaned loudly and clutched at Casavir's forearms. The paladin swirled his thumb firmly around the opening, spreading the pre cum around its tip.

"Ahhhh……. Casavir….please……", his body had won, it seemed.

With that simple phrase, Casavir released his other hand from its grip and thrust strongly into Bishop. Bishop bucked wildly as Casavir stroked his shaft into the ultimate orgasm, spilling his seed onto his stomach. The site of Bishop in so much pleasure writhing beneath him sent Casavir over the edge and he came as well, spilling his own divine seed into the ranger, his ranger.

Casavir lay on top of him for awhile, rocking gently into him as the aftershocks of each other's orgasms subsided. Then he kissed him again looking into his ranger's eyes for any kind of contempt. There was none. Not even a trace of anger was left.

"You seem a little less filled with hate now" he smiled at Bishop.

"Hmph, and you seem a little less sanctified" Bishop replied.

Casavir laughed and pulled the ranger close to hold him. To his surprise, and great satisfaction, he didn't struggle, and they rested together.

When Casavir awoke in the morning he was filled with ecstasy from his dream. 'How very life-like that was' he thought to himself remembering the pleasantness of the vision. His eyes were still shut and it almost felt as though he was still holding the ranger. By the gods, he could still feel Bishop's heat against him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone snoring. Casavir's eyes shot open. There was his ranger, lying next to him, shirt torn, breeches missing. Apparently the dream had been more lifelike then he thought.

'How did this happen' he thought to himself. Then he noticed the amulet was missing from Bishop's neck and was placed on the bedside table.

'Oh…….that explains it. I wonder if he'll sneak into my dreams again after that?' he mused to himself. He raised a hand to Bishop's head and ran his fingers through his hair.

Bishop stirred and opened his eyes, fully aware of what had transpired between the two of them.

"Good morning Bishop" Casavir grinned at him very uncharacteristically.

"Casavir" Bishop sleepily returned the greeting, not even aware he had used his name.

"You seem a little less evil this morning"

"You seem a little less righteous"

Casavir laughed, leaned over, and kissed his ranger once again. Enjoying the moment before they both slipped back into their usual demeanors to start another day.