(Author's note: Alright everyone, I'm feeling much better than I was, thankfully, so I'm glad to have gotten this chapter written! The dance scene is dedicated to femensqueterror, so I hope she enjoys it! Once again, thank you very, very much for your reviews, they mean the world to me! Also, if you live outside the US, I have been having some trouble getting/sending emails/messages, due to some error on my end, but it has been fixed, I hope! Anyway, this is more plot, and a bit of Cari angst, so, enjoy! Thank you for reading! A special thank you to Cro-Magnon for helping me out with it!)

Cari was not having a good time.

All right, apparently my hair is too long, my skin too pale, and I'm wearing too much kohl.

I'm just glad I covered up my brands, or else they'd have something else to gossip about.

Her attempts to block out the incessant whispers of the noblewomen were failing miserably.

"Would you look at that dress?"

"I think it's lovely."

"But her shoulders are bare! And look at her cleavage! Scandalous!"

She groaned painfully.

Between this and taking on a swarm of bloodthirsty orcs? I'd take the orcs right now.

I doubt orcs care whether or not my shoulders are bare, they just want to kill me.

"Did you see the man she was with?"

"Goodness, yes! If adventuring gets you a man like that, sign me up!"

Oh, Cyric-

"So, having fun?" Bishop smirked. He laughed at the disgusted look on her face. "You look like you've just tasted some of Shandra's stew."

"Shandra's cooking would cause me less pain than listening to these gossiping fools."

Cari looked around, and her gaze fell upon the quartet standing on a velvet-covered dais in the middle of the room. The handsome, fair-haired bard struck up a lively tune with his mandolin, accompanied by the sharp, even drumbeat of the halfling beside him. The beautiful redhead with the trumpet joined in, soon followed by the elegant sounds of the chimes, clutched tightly in the hands of the elf standing behind her. Cari sighed sadly, prepared to sit out another dance as Bishop stood beside her, shifting uncomfortably.

It wouldn't be so bad if Bishop would at least try to dance. It would certainly kill the boredom.

Though, humiliation probably isn't the best way to go about that. Oh well.

After a few moments of silence, she gasped as Bishop grabbed her hand and pulled her into the center of the dance floor. He clumsily held her close, trying to recall motions last used years ago.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. She winced as Bishop accidentally trod on her foot.

He took a deep breath. "Dancing."

Well, careful what you wish for and all that…

Cari chuckled as his second step missed her feet, but landed on the hem of her dress. He swore.

"Let's just sit this one out," she whispered, "it'll be fine."

I'm not going to be outdone by these noblemen, he thought. I won't let them.

"No," he growled, listening closely to the beat of the music, "No. I won't."

Seconds passed, and Bishop took another tentative step, willing his muscles to remember movements long forgotten. Gradually, he grew more confident, his steps measured and calculated, and Cari stared at him in shock.

"How'd you learn to dance?" she asked quietly as Bishop twirled her away from him, "I didn't know you could."

Bishop then pressed his hand to her stomach, pinning her back to his chest and eliciting a tiny gasp in response.

"I'm not an utterly uncultured fool," he whispered, pulling on her hand to turn her back to him, "I once knew most of the steps, but Casavir did help."

Cari made a mental note to thank Casavir as Bishop's other hand found the small of her back. He took a step backwards, guiding her with him, and then he stopped. Smiling playfully, Cari leaned far back, letting her hair brush along the floor. In the same fluid, graceful movement, she extended her leg out behind him, completely trusting him with her body. Caught up in the moment, she ignored more indignant whispers from the nobles.

The tempo of the music raced, and Bishop spun Cari in faster and faster turns, causing her dress to float away from her. The music crested, and he suddenly stopped, pulling her firmly against him and closing any space left between their bodies.

Bishop pressed his lips against her neck as he cupped his hand under her knee to lift her leg. Cari gasped as he was suddenly holding her in the air, her knee and lower leg pressed against his waist, Bishop's other hand holding her tightly against him.

"Did Casavir teach you that?" she asked, a little breathless as she pressed her breasts into his chest.

He said nothing, instead choosing to tangle his fingers in her hair. He kissed her hungrily, pointedly disregarding the disgusted faces of those around him.

"Such behavior."

"And at a banquet like this? Scandalous!"

Bishop chuckled, pulled away, and gently set her down.

"That," he breathed, "Was mine."

Cari giggled.

Bishop started to speak, but then narrowed his eyes as Sir Edmund descended upon them.

"My squire," he smirked, dipping into a ridiculous bow, "Would you join me for a dance?"

"Don't let it be more than a dance," growled the ranger.

Edmund chuckled.

"Don't worry, m'boy, I'll take good care of your woman."

Before Bishop could speak again, Edmund had swept Cari off, leaving him behind to find solace at the bottom of a wine goblet.

-----

It was Bishop's turn to be miserable.

Despite four goblets of wine, his mood was not improving.

If Edmund asks for another dance, I swear… I'll remove his knighthood.

Bishop glowered; he growled softly as he occasionally caught a glimpse of Cari's shining hair as she twirled with her knight.

That man is too charming for his own good. The meddlesome bastard…

So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn't notice as a slim woman stepped in front of him.

"Bishop?" the woman purred, eyeing Bishop as though he were the mouse to her predatory cat.

The ranger arched an eyebrow and gave the woman an appraising look.

Mousy-brown hair, blue eyes, ugly yellow dress, maybe five feet even, decent skin, but no curves and tiny breasts.

Then he recognized her. He groaned.

Oh, hells, not Saelinda. How drunk was I that night?

Could this evening get any worse?

"What do you want, Saelinda?" Bishop whined, "Leave me be. I thought I made it clear to you once before, I am not interested."

"Such a harsh greeting for me," the woman pouted, "You once said such sweet words. Are you here with someone? Who is she? Unless it's a man, of course…"

Bishop snorted.

"For your information, wench, I'm here with my lover. Cari and I-"

Saelinda burst out laughing.

"You seriously expect me to believe you're here with her? The squire?" she squealed, "Please, you're-you're not serious, are you?" she asked, seeing the ugly expression on Bishop's face.

"Yes, I am."

"Why are you with that swamp girl, hmm?" Saelinda wrapped her arms around Bishop's shoulders, stood on her toes, and attempted to give him a kiss. He moved away at the last moment, avoiding her lips. Saelinda pouted. "You and I had such fun, Bishop! Hours and hours, and into the early morning…"

Bishop pried Saelinda's hands from around his neck and pushed her away.

"Leave me alone. Or do you not understand my words?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," she snarled, blushing bright red with embarrassment, "Did our time in bed mean nothing to you?"

"Correct. Now leave me be. You were tolerable, at best. Even more so after a few tankards of ale."

Saelinda's lip curled viciously. She grabbed the front of Bishop's tunic and pulled him down so that her heavily-painted lips brushed against his ear. He flinched.

"I know of your mark, remember?" she hissed, kissing the hidden brand on his neck, "I know what you are, no matter how hard you try to hide it. And for you to be with a squire of Neverwinter? She's too good for you, whelp. You know it, and I know it. I wonder what she'll do when she realizes it-"

She stopped at the feel of sharp fingernails digging into her shoulder. She turned, and found herself face-to-face with Cari, who looked murderous.

"Who are you?" Cari hissed.

"I'm Saelinda," said the other woman, "And I suppose you're Bishop's new plaything?"

"I'm his lover."

"Ah, yes, so you are his new plaything," Saelinda taunted, "Well, enjoy him while you can. He'll eventually get bored and-"

"Leave my lover alone, wench," Cari snarled, smiling cruelly, "Or, I swear on the Black Sun himself, you will regret it."

Before Saelinda could retort, she was interrupted by Nevalle's slightly nasal voice.

"Dinner will be served shortly. Please, everyone, take your seats."

Saelinda glared at Cari for a few moments more before stomping off towards the banquet table. Cari failed to stifle a groan as she realized that Saelinda was sitting on Bishop's right.

Well, she thought, this will be fun.

-----

Is the evening over yet?

Dinner had been rather uneventful. Cari disregarded the hushed whispers of the nobles around her, who were now critiquing her style of eating. Only Bishop seemed to be as miserable as she was, keeping his gaze fixed on his plate.

Poor thing, he's probably bored out of his mind.

Cari reached out to caress his thigh when she froze. A hand was already there.

What in the bloody hells?

It took some seconds before realization dawned. She looked at Saelinda, who looked revoltingly pleased with herself. Saelinda's left hand was under the table.

Jealousy caused Cari's blood to boil in her veins. Bishop gave her a guilty, pleading look.

Now I know why he was so interested in his plate…

Cari clenched her teeth and stared at her hands. She was shaking with rage.

I warned the willing-arms, she though, her heart racing, I warned her. Now she will pay.

Cyric will get his blood today.

Cari bided her time, waiting for an opportunity. Bishop had managed to remove Saelinda's hand from his lap, but Cari was still furious. Then, when Saelinda excused herself to go to the powder room, Cari sensed her opportunity. She waited a few moments, and then excused herself as well, stating that she needed some air, and would go outside for a walk.

Bishop nodded. He watched as she disappeared through a doorway, leading to a garden where a large, intricately-carved ice sculpture of a bird stood. Feeling slightly neglected, he turned his attention back to his steak, which had suddenly become less-than-appetizing.

Minutes passed, and out of sheer boredom, Bishop began stabbing his steak with his knife. Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream cut through the air, and he jumped. A noblewoman, wearing a lush blue dress, stumbled into the banquet hall with tears streaming down her face.

"Someone's been murdered!" she wailed, pointing in the direction of the powder room, "A woman's been murdered! A woman in a yellow dress!"

The guards and most of the Nine rushed off in the direction the woman in blue had come. Moments later, Bishop noticed Cari return. She wore a smug, triumphant smile as she smoothed out her long, black skirt. She caught his eye and jerked her head, pointing towards a nearby exit. Bishop gave one last look of longing at his steak before rising from the table and following her out.

As they walked out, Bishop noticed that someone had clumsily broken a sharp feather off of the ice sculpture. He leaned in to mention it to Cari when she slipped her hand into his.

Her hand was as cold as ice.

-----

Later that night, Cari was lying on her side, resting her head on her hands. She groaned in irritation as Bishop softly kissed her neck, his hands roaming over her body. He pressed his chest against her back, holding her close.

"I'm not in the mood, Bishop," she whispered, pulling away from his touch, "I'm sorry."

"Mmmm," he said softly, caressing her stomach, "But what if I could get you into the mood?" One hand wandered over her hips and along the inside of her thighs.

"I said," she grumbled, shifting away from him, "I'm not in the mood."

Bishop's face darkened.

"And why is that, lover?" he said angrily, "Have I disappointed you in some way?"

He watched her closely, noticing how she fiddled with a tiny hole in her sheets.

"Why didn't you stop that Saelinda woman?" she blurted out, "I mean, the bitch was all over you. You should have told her to leave you the hells alone."

"What?" he asked, frowning, "You think I didn't?"

"Well, she seemed awfully persistent-"

"If you trusted me, like you said you did, then this wouldn't have been an issue. You said you trusted me," Bishop growled, studying her face, "Was that a lie? Was that a lie, like so many women before you? Pretty words, said in the moment? Honeyed words, so I'd indulge you?"

"No," Cari said quickly, "It-it wasn't a lie! It's her I didn't trust. Women like that are conniving she-eels-"

"You said you trusted me," he hissed, "And I now see that it was a lie. Why the pretty words, Carianna?"

"They weren't pretty words!" she cried, "I do trust you, I-I was just jealous! And scared!"

Bishop blinked in surprise.

"You were scared? Why?"

Cari kept her mouth tightly shut.

I know why I was scared. What if that whore was right? What if Malin was right? I was scared of not being able to touch you. I was scared of not being able to sleep beside you. I was scared of losing you.

But I can't tell you that, can I? I can't get attached. You can't get tied down. It doesn't matter that I'm carrying your child. It doesn't matter that I… I think I've come to care for you.

I know I shouldn't. So you can't know. You can't yet know about the baby. You can't know about my feelings, or I'll lose everything.

"I just was, all right? And I do trust you. I-I'm sorry."

"If you really trusted me, then it shouldn't have been a problem," he barked, looking away from her, "And please, words are meaningless and empty, therefore, they mean little to me. If you're really sorry for your actions, then show it."

She started to speak, but she hesitated, remembering the previous night.

Bishop doesn't care for words, she thought, I have to show him in ways he understands.

Her fingertips found the coarse hair on his cheeks.

"I am sorry," she whispered, tenderly kissing him. She nuzzled in close before hooking her foot around his leg and pulling his thigh between hers.

"I am really sorry, Bishop."

He moaned softly, tracing the scar above her breast.

"Show me, Cari. Don't tell me. Show me."

Grinning wickedly, Cari pushed hard against his chest. Thoroughly unprepared for her attack, he rolled onto his back. She took advantage of his surprise and pounced: she straddled his waist and gripped him tightly with her knees. She ran a hand roughly through his hair before linking her fingers with his and pulling his arms over his head.

He arched an eyebrow.

"And what, exactly, are you doing?"

Cari smiled warmly.

"Showing you."

-----

Later, when Bishop's deep, rhythmic snores told Cari that he was asleep, she finally snuggled up against him, pressing her back against his chest and pulling his arm around her waist. He shifted in his sleep and clutched her tightly, pulling her closer than he ever would have, had he been awake.

After what felt like hours, Cari eventually found sleep. Lying beside Bishop's warm body, his arms wrapped around her in a possessive, protective embrace, was almost enough to take her mind off of both her journey and their unborn child.

Almost.