This fan fiction about Bishop takes place while he is still working for the Luskans, before the tragic events of Redfallow's Watch and Neverwinter Nights 2 OC.
Please note that the material you are about to read is definitely rated as Mature/Restricted for scenes of violence, sexuality, BDSM and nudity. You should be 18 years old or older before continuing on as adult themes are explored. Please do NOT continue if any of these makes you uncomfortable. There are graphic and descriptive scenes in this narrative.
Quel Fara – Part III
By Ryoushi © 2007
When he awoke, it was his first realization that he had even fallen asleep. He cursed himself again. He was getting sloppy. He could see the stars and the glade was dark. The fire must have gone out.
Bishop went to go sit up when he realized that he could not move. Both his arms were tied securely above his head to the nearest tree; his legs were each stretched out and bound by a significant length of rope to other trees. He glanced around for Karnwyr but the wolf was nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, a soft silken voice came out of the darkness, just out of sight by his head, "Ahhh…so he finally awakes…" Bishop felt the cool tip of a sword, his sword, gently but firmly tip his chin back so he was staring at the figure standing behind his head. Her face was hidden by her hair and shadows but he could catch the gleam in her eyes – purple. She was wearing a gauzy white gown that shimmered iridescent in the moonlight. "Your wolf is fine. He finds these woods fascinating and will return to you in the morning." Her speech had a strange regal air, a comfortable lethality mixed with a sly mischievousness. Bishop could tell she had a good command of a sword by the way she could direct his movements, applying firm control of the blade without cutting his skin. It was clear she had killed before and would kill again.
Bishop subtly tested the ropes holding him captive. They were made of some kind of smooth material, most likely elven, and they were tight without cutting into his circulation. He noticed that all his armor was off and out of sight and he was dressed only in his green tunic and brown trews. He glanced back up at the girl, grudgingly respectful. "Well," he murmured, "I'm impressed. Didn't think anyone could outwit me in the woods."
Her face broke into a cool smile, "Thank you. Though I will confess now there was some magic involved." She crouched, continuing to hold the blade under his chin. "I'm impressed with you as well. Not only did you track me this far, you brought all my gear. How…kind of you…to play this game with me. But now, the predator has become the prey, has he not?" She guided his head to the right with the sword and he saw that she had emptied his pack of all her equipment. But she hadn't put any of it on. Except her dagger.
She bent over him, examining his face and he took the opportunity to openly examine her as well. Her white gown hid very little of her body; he could see the fullness of her breasts, the slightness of her waist and the curve of her hips. Her long dark hair tumbled around her delicate face, with its arched eyebrows and full lips. Her appearance did not surprise him. She was as beautiful as the messenger had warned him about; but it was the feral way in which she licked her lips and eyed him that was unexpected. It had been a while since he had been with a real woman; he didn't count the Luskan wenches he met in brothels as being anything worthwhile – they were as likely to kill you as kiss you. Bishop felt the tension between his legs build. He shifted his weight and pretended to be trying to get into a more comfortable position. He would be damned if he would let her see him like this. He was the one who was supposed to be in control, not her.
She used the blade to lift his chin once again. "What is your name, handsome ranger?" Bishop smirked. Maybe he could still have things go his way if he could say all the right things. He knew women did not necessarily want the real truth so much as their truths. "Bishop. And yours?"
The Shapechanger pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I have no true name. I am who I am and I am many things." She looked at him playfully. "I can be many things for you." Bishop watched as suddenly the lines surrounding her blurred and she reappeared as a buxom blonde human, her heavy pendulous breasts straining against the fabric of the gown. "Or would you prefer…" and a small elvish girl with red hair smiled tauntingly at him. "Or does your preference lie with the more...savage, like you?" He watched as her skin turned green and suddenly a huge half-orc female was narrowing her eyes in a strangely seductive manner. She morphed back into her original form, her purple eyes laughing.
Bishop swallowed. "Now…that's…a rather intimate question." She smiled coyly at him, "I think we're in a rather…intimate situation?" Her hand traveled from her side and suddenly grasped him firmly between his spread legs. Bishop's body spasmed against the bonds holding him captive and he let out a guttural moan of wanting in spite of himself.
The Shapechanger leaned in closer, her breath hot against his cheek, her eyes were drawing him in like dark pools of night, "You're here to capture me for the Luskans or to kill me for them, that much I know." Bishop could feel her breasts rubbing against his chest – he could feel her nipples through the gauzy fabric - and her hand tightened their grip on his hardening shaft. He knew he should be paying more attention to what she was saying but her touch was maddening. And her eyes…looking into her eyes was making him lightheaded. "Do not think you are the first tracker they have sent after me. You have certainly been the best and for that I will let you live. The Hosttower mages do not understand what or who I am but I will send you back and you will tell them for me. Really, it is a shame I have to send you back at all – I know there is no love lost between you and the Luskans. We could have had so much fun together, Bishop, my handsome ranger."
She relaxed her hold on him and leaned back, watching his golden eyes carefully. Bishop jerked angrily against the cords, and spat "I'm not your messenger. You think a few honeyed words will get me to soften up, show you my tender side and get me to run your errands? Well think again."
She laughed, "No, you are not my messenger but you are my prisoner. And you will give them my message whether you want to or not because you really don't have any other choice. I will not go with you as your captive and you will not be able to kill me, tied up as you are. You have to go back to your Luskan contact unless you want to spend the rest of your life running from the Hosttower – and trust me, that will result in a very short life indeed. No, you aren't my messenger but you are mine, Bishop, in more ways than one." Her grip tightened again and he silently cursed his traitorous body as he squirmed against her touch. He knew she was right. Her laugh came to him again, mocking, "And I don't want you to soften up, if you couldn't already tell."
She let go of him and pulled out her dagger with her right hand, holding it high above his chest. "Don't worry, Bishop, I always greatly reward those who work for me – and unlike the Luskans, I don't mind paying up front." She smiled viciously at him, "Don't move or I might accidentally cut you." With one deft move, she cut downwards, the tip of her dagger snagging his tunic and slicing it open down the middle. Bishop exhaled loudly before he realized he had been holding his breath. He could feel the cool night air on his skin but he only shivered when he felt her fingernails trail up his abdomen to his chest. She touched the cougar's tooth pendant briefly. He growled, only half-jokingly, "Woman, you better get me a new shirt unless you want me marching back to the Hosttower mages like this."
The Shapechanger was tracing the scars on his skin as she purred, "I'm sure the women of the city won't mind too much, if they're real, hot-blooded females." Her fingers darted out and twisted his nipples, hard, wrenching the flesh to her and Bishop exhaled through clenched teeth, his body wracked with pain even as the heat continued to build within him. She straddled him, hiking her dress up around her hips. She brushed her lips from his navel up the midline of his stomach to his chest. Her touch was so tantalizingly light; he pulled against his restraints, pressing his torso against her mouth. He could feel her lips twitch in a smile as she complied, running her tongue slowly across his chest. Her sharp white teeth were grazing his skin and suddenly they sunk lightly into his pectoral muscles. Bishop gasped in pain and threw his head back, his whole body tensing against the elven cords; when he looked back down she was looking back up at him, her eyes gleaming with a feral light, small rivulets of blood droplets starting to form where she had bit him. She ran her tongue along her teeth slowly, her eyes now half-closed.
The shock of the pain was still fresh in his mind; he wanted to turn on her flesh, to have his lips tear at her succulent skin until she bruised, to have her twist in agony and pleasure beneath him. "Untie me," he whispered hoarsely. "Untie me." His voice was low, threatening in its thick desire. He didn't know what he would do once untied - probably ravish her body until the world came crashing down around them. There was nothing else to do with a woman like this once you had her.
Her eyes narrowed at the tone of his voice. She tilted her head to the side and considered him through lowered lashes. "No," she said finally. "A man like you does not give up control very much, does he?" She slid her body up his, pressing herself against him, until those teeth were brushing his earlobe, "Let go, Bishop. Let go. Let go first and then I'll let you go."