This is a joint venture of Kaana Moonshadow and myself. We had lots of fun writing it and hope you have as much fun reading.

We don't own Bishop, but we sure as hell wish we did.


Liliana hummed quietly as she made her way back to the hut, her steps surprisingly light. The day was still grey and colourless, the air cool and moist – but somehow, it felt as if she was carrying a light of her own in her chest, close to her heart, which illuminated the world around her in its own warm shine, driving away the cold.

She could not even remember when she had enjoyed herself so much in the last few months.

And he had let her follow the trail, and even shown her how to use his bow!

It had just been like the times she had followed Marisana through the woods, the woman taking her time to point out the different kind of tracks to the small girl who had followed her like a shadow, showing her how to follow them, while her husband, Gareth, had stood beside them, with a small smile on his bearded face and a cudgel over his shoulder, before he had fallen back in line with the other beaters who had worked for her grandfather.

The path wound around the slope of the small hill, and after a dozen steps, she could finally see the wooden walls of the cabin peer through the trees. Bishop had stayed behind at the foot of the hill, telling her in his own, gruff way that he would take care of the deer and that she was supposed to go ahead and get a fire going, so that they could start roasting the meat as soon as he returned to their hut.

She would have loved to stay behind as well, to watch him prepare the food, but had sensed that he had started to get restless in her company again, and so she had not wanted to stretch her luck any further and had obeyed without question, unwilling to let one of his little tantrums spoil her mood.

Still humming, a small smile on her face, Liliana stepped out from under the trees and onto the clearing and saw the wolf, Karnwyr, stand in front of the hut, watching her approach, his eyes shining bright even in the dim light of day. Strangely enough, without Bishop by his side, he looked a lot more like a wild animal of the woods, and so she gave him a wide berth on her way to the door, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder as she saw him actually following her quietly into the hut, but the wolf simply trotted to his former resting place beside her blankets and lay down on the floor, his head on his paws and the bright eyes now closed to slits.

Relieved about the wolf's friendly attitude, Liliana started to prepare the fireplace, unceremoniously shoving the cold ash aside with her hands to make place for the new logs. She did not know how much time it would take Bishop to finish his task, but she was convinced that it was much wiser to get a fire going and clean the chimney later as to have to explain to him why there was no merrily crackling fire awaiting him when he finally returned to the hut with their dinner.

The man sure was a grump, that much was certain.

So she picked log after log, piling them up while still humming a lively tune, and without thinking, she turned around to Bishop's backpack, reaching for its laces to fetch flint and steel.

The wolf growled deep in his throat, just once, and at the low and threatening sound, Liliana felt the beat of her heart speed up painfully while the blood seemed to run cold in her veins. Slowly, her heart still beating madly, she turned around, half expecting him to bare his impressively sharp teeth, but the wolf simply watched her intently, an almost questioning look on his furry face.

She gulped, feeling as if a tight lump had suddenly formed in her throat while her heart beat in her chest like a frightened bird. What was she about to do now?

Talk to him!

Even after all the things that had happened to her in the past few days, Liliana felt more than a little bewildered at the thought of trying to talk to a wild animal.

Bishop is talking to him, too, so he's at least used to people speaking with him, she tried to convince herself, swallowing nervously.

And ranger companions are no ordinary animals. It can't hurt to give it a try, before he simply tears out my throat because I've been rummaging through his master's possessions.

"I don't want to take anything.", she began slowly, addressing the wolf with calm, deliberate words, carefully trying to gauge his mood. "I just need some tools to get the fire going, see? I won't take any of his things away."

For a long moment, the wolf simply looked at her, an unreadable expression in his wild eyes. Then a small grunt escaped his throat, and he lowered his head on his paws again, but without closing his eyes this time.

Go on, the look on his furry face seemed to say, but I'll keep watching you.

With a small, thankful smile, Liliana searched through Bishop's backpack until her fingers finally closed around the small leather pouch, and so she lifted her prey carefully to show it to the wolf.

"See? Only the pouch with flint and steel, just as I promised.", she added with a more winning smile, a part of her reprimanding her for the foolish attempt to try and charm an animal of the woods with nothing but a dazzling smile.

For the length of several heartbeats, the wolf simply stared at her, obviously unimpressed by her friendly attitude, that disturbingly intelligent look back in his yellow gaze. Then another small grunt escaped his throat, and he closed his eyes again, snorting quietly. Relieved that he seemed to have accepted her explanation, she quickly fastened the laces of the backpack again and hurried back to the chimney, intending to get the fire going.

But she had not so much as opened the laces of the pouch as the wolf growled again, even more threatening than before. Liliana jumped at the unexpected sound, and after wondering for a second how he could actually be as irritable and twitchy as his master, she slowly turned around, addressing him in the same calm, soothing voice she would have used to calm a frightened horse, or a small child.

"Look, I just have to open it, otherwise I cannot use…"

She stopped, puzzled to see the wolf standing on his paws again, his hackles raised, still growling threateningly, but his eyes were now fixed on the door of the hut, not her. Alarmed, Liliana turned around as well, listening intently while her pulse pounded loudly in her ears.

There were voices talking, just outside the hut.

They have found me!

For one short, wonderful moment, her heart seemed to freeze in her chest before it finally started to beat painfully fast once more, but now from the joy and relief that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

After days of horror and starvation, they had finally come for her!

The wolf made a sudden leap towards the door, his growl rising to a single howl that echoed loudly through the hut, and alarmed, Liliana made some quick steps towards him, her hands lifted in what she hoped would be interpreted as a soothing gesture.

"No, don't!", she exclaimed, desperately trying to calm him down, afraid that the noise would alert Bishop.

Bishop.

What if he got caught?

She knew that he was nothing but a petty criminal, and that she should probably hate him for what he had done to her, but strangely enough, now that she was safe again, she did not want him to get any trouble on her account. He may have been harsh and rude during these past few days, but he had not actually hurt her.

At least, not really.

The memory of his voice, whispering soothingly into her ear, trying to take away her fear, came unbidden to her mind, and a sudden wave of uncertainty mingled strongly with her joy and anticipation. There had even been times where he had been almost kind. How could she repay him for that lovely afternoon in the woods with a straight ticket to the headsman?

Her eyes fell on his gear, lying close to her feet, and the squeezing feeling in her heart intensified.

If she reacted quickly, would she be able to talk her father and Cedric into leaving, without trying to catch the man who had held her captive? Maybe she could pretend she was sick, that she needed a cleric…

"Did ye hear that?"

A high, nasal voice came suddenly from right next to the entrance, and Liliana frowned, her stomach churning uncomfortably all of a sudden.

The voice belonged to a male, but had neither sounded familiar nor pleasant.

"I did.", a hoarse, growling voice answered the invisible speaker, as unfamiliar as the first one, and, surprisingly enough, even less pleasant. "Let's see who's paying us a visit, boys."

And with that, the door creaked open, and Liliana's eyes widened in fright as she stared at the bearded man who now stood in the doorframe, all her hopes about finally being rescued dying a fast and painful death.

The man looked well in his fifties, with his wrinkled face and the silver streaks in his unkempt, greasy beard. His clothes were dirty and ragged, roughly fixed by unskilled hands in numerous places, and there was a mean glint in his eyes as he let them roam freely through the hut, his piercing stare making her retreat further back into the cabin, her heart now thumping painfully in her throat.

There were other men lurking behind his back, all looking as shabby and neglected as he did, but in this instant, Karnwyr growled loud and menacingly in his throat, baring his very impressive teeth at the intruders, and the sound was actually enough to startle Liliana out of her fright. With a small cry, she hurried back to the chimney, her eyes desperately searching for the iron poker of the fireplace.

A weapon. I need a weapon.

"Watch the doggie!", bellowed the bearded man, and there was the sound of men shouting and of feet on wood as his companions entered the hut, but Liliana tried to fight the sudden urge to turn around, as her eyes had finally found the poker lying half-hidden behind the pile of logs, and her right hand had already closed around its handle as she heard quick footsteps approaching, and her left arm was suddenly held in an iron grip and roughly wrenched behind her back.

It hurt like hell.

Liliana screamed, the searing pain in her arm spreading through her body like wildfire, but she still lifted the poker with her other hand, trying to strike at the man who held her in that painful grip.

"Let go of that hook, chickie!", growled her attacker, wrenching her arm even harder as he evaded her feeble attack easily, and her heart gave a terrified leap as she recognised the rough voice of the bearded man. The pain in her arm and shoulder finally became unbearable, and with a whimper, she let go of the poker, forcefully blinking away the tears.

As soon as it hit the ground with a loud thump, her captor loosened his grip around her arm a bit, the pain still intense, but not overwhelming anymore, and pressed her back close against his chest while turning her towards the door again, bringing her eye to eye with the rest of his companions.

There were five of them, two trying to hold Karnwyr in check with their cutlasses, eyeing the viciously growling wolf and his bared teeth warily. Two other men stood still close to the door, watching both her and the wolf with a look of utmost confusion and surprise on their simple faces, obviously unsure how to react to this unexpected situation.

"Lookie here,", the bearded man grunted gleefully into her ear. His scent rose into her nose, the stink of stale beer and old sweat making her turn her head as far away from him as possible in disgust, trying to keep her breathing as quick and shallow as she could make it without going to faint.

"A chickie! How nice of her to drop by. Now, chickie, ye tell the lil' doggie to keep it down, unless he wants me to cut yer throat.", the bearded man continued nastily, patting the hilt of his own cutlass lazily to emphasize his threat.

"He… He's not mine.", Liliana replied, desperately trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I can't tell him what to do."

She could feel the man's piercing black eyes upon her and therefore did her best to turn away from him, to keep him from seeing the fear and revulsion that had to be edged clearly across her face.

"Kill the wolf.", the bearded man finally commanded with a sneer, casting the animal a contemptuous look.

What?

"No!", she cried vehemently, struggling against the man's hold despite the sharp pain the movement induced in her arm. "Leave him alone! You'll be sorry if you hurt him!"

A cacophony of raucous laughter followed her words as the men threw their heads back in amusement, but Liliana noticed the relief flickering across the men's faces who tried to keep the wolf in check, obviously glad about the little distraction from their leader's command.

"Oh chickie,", the bearded man snickered into her ear, his amusement sending a surprisingly strong ripple of hot anger down her spine, "Yer a blast, I can tell already. Who will make us sorry? Ye?"

"No.", Liliana replied icily, the sudden wave of hot anger actually thawing her fear. "Not me. But his master will."

She thought of Bishop, still out there in the woods, preparing their dinner, and for one sweet, blissful moment, she imagined him to return to the hut, his weapons drawn, and wiping the smug smile from that brute's face with his scimitars.

"Believe me, you don't want to make him angry."

The men laughed again.

"Oh chickie", the bearded man replied after he had caught his breath, "Think we're afraid of one man? There are five of us, and we have ye."

Liliana swallowed hard as the tight knot of fear almost instantaneously reformed in her belly.

They were right, of course. Even if Bishop should return to the hut, he was still outnumbered five to one. And why should he return at all, risking his own life when the odds were so clearly against him?

We have ye.

"That probably won't make much of a difference…", she whispered quietly, her heart feeling heavy all of a sudden. The bearded man leaned even closer, and the lecherous sound of his voice sent more shivers of dread down her spine.

"See, chickie", the man replied almost nonchalantly, his coarse beard chafing her cheek, "ye've been sleeping in our house, eating our food. Me thinks ye got to pay for that."

At these words, his companions changed knowing, excited looks, and Liliana feared to be sick as she saw the hungry anticipation in their eyes.

"So me and the boys will have us some fun tonight, after we killed yer lover. What do you say, boys?"

The men cheered, their eyes now roaming hungrily over her body, but she only half-noticed it as the man's words stirred a strange, unexpected feeling inside her, as if her heart was gently squeezed in her chest, and it startled her.

Yer lover.

"Sorry boys,", a cold voice could suddenly be heard over all the cheering and clapping, and Liliana's heart gave a painful thump as she recognised it in an instant, "The plan just changed."

She looked up, her eyes wide, and her heart gave another squeeze as she saw Bishop standing in the door of the hut, one of his scimitars pressed firmly against the throat of one of the men close to the entrance, his face an impassive mask, but his eyes ablaze with cold fury.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and threatening. "Release the girl, or this one bites it."

The cheering stopped abruptly, and the men whirled around, all eyes now turned on the new arrival. The bearded man made an angry hissing noise and increased his pull on her arm, increasing the pain as well. Liliana winced, but fought down a moan that threatened to escape her lips, determined not to make another sound.

"Yer bluffin'!", the bearded man growled, his piercing eyes now solely fixed on the intruder while his companions exchanged nervous, uncertain glances.

With one fluid motion of his arm, Bishop slit the throat of his hostage. Blood poured from the wound, and the man made a surprised, gurgling sound as he was hurled against his other companion close to the door, who caught his dying comrade in his arms and staggered backwards, too shocked to react in any other way.

"No, I'm really not.", Bishop replied smoothly as he made another step into the hut. He had taken off his leathers while working on the deer, and now sprinkles of blood stained the light fabric of his tunic and dropped from his weapon onto the wooden planks, and there was a smile on his face that sent another wave of cold shivers down Liliana's spine as she watched his slow approach in fearful anticipation.

The bearded man roared as he saw his comrade's fate and reached for his cutlass, wrenching her arm even harder in the process. A bolt of hot, searing pain shot through her left shoulder, and Liliana couldn't repress a whimper as the pain spread down her neck and arm, making her feel like her shoulder was slowly but irresistibly wrenched out of its joint…

Bishop growled, a low, almost feral sound, deep in his throat, and his eyes narrowed to slits as he lifted his right hand and threw one of his scimitars at the bearded man with a quick flick of his wrist. The weapon flew so fast that it was barely more than a silver blur passing before her eyes, and she could feel the draught as it passed close her face to embed itself deeply into the bearded man's forehead, its hilt now dangling in front of her eyes.

She felt the tight grip around her arm suddenly go limp, and then her captor fell onto the floor without so much as a sound, his dead eyes staring up at her, unfocused, while blood poured from the wound in his head into his beard. Liliana yelped, staring at the corpse at her feet in fright, and then slowly retreated against the wall of the hut, as the battle was now in full swing.

She stood there, her back pressed firmly against the wood, her throat tight with fear, and watched how Bishop brought down one man after the other. She felt one moment of utmost, panicked fear as one of the thugs attacked him from behind and hit him in the shoulder with his cutlass, and she cried out, even took a few steps forward, but Bishop simply crouched and rolled gracefully to the side, instantly resuming the fighting as if he had not been hurt at all.

She stood, her eyes wide, her heart beating painfully fast in her chest, and watched the fight with some sort of sick fascination, watched how he crouched, parried, attacked and dodged his attackers, always two steps ahead of them. Seeing him fight was almost like watching a dance – a lethal dance, yes, but almost beautiful in its own, savage way, and so she stared, her eyes fixed on his face, watching how his eyes never left his opponent, alert, calculating, that terrifying smile still on his face.

He truly was a predator, merciless, determined, and deadly.

Finally, there was only one man standing, one shaking hand gripping the hilt of his cutlass, the other clutching his wounded throat after Karnwyr had bitten him in return for attacking his master. The man tensed as Bishop turned to face him, his face now white as a sheet.

"I… I give.", he coughed in a high, pleading voice as he dropped his weapon, his eyes wide with fear. "Don't kill me, please!"

Slowly, Bishop stepped up to the man, his eyes cold, that cruel smile still on his face. There was another quick slice with the scimitar, and the man crumbled onto the floor, his guts spilling onto the wooden planks.

"Sorry,", Bishop replied coldly as he watched the dying man at his feet. "No witnesses."

Liliana swallowed hard, her throat still feeling unnaturally tight, as she watched him standing there, towering above the man he had just killed, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. She could still remember his amused laugh as she had threatened him with Damian's challenge, and now, for the first time, she truly understood why he had laughed at her that day.

All these years she had watched her brother and his friends sparring, the boys thinking of themselves as expert fighters, and she never doubting their abilities… but now that she had seen a real fight, she knew that none of them would actually stand a chance against a true opponent, far from the protective rules of tournament and fair play.

She stared wide-eyed at the corpses, now strewn about the floor, and the overwhelming stink of blood and sweat that filled the hut made her feel ill. There was the sound of swift footsteps approaching, and then a calloused hand closed firmly around her chin, lifting her head, and she looked up into Bishop's face, his brows furrowed in concentration as he stood just inches before her, examining her.

She stared up at him, relief and fear still battling strongly in her chest, and felt her heart constricting painfully as she saw him shut his eyes for a moment, something close to relief flickering across his face… and felt a sudden, irresistible desire to throw herself into his arms, so that he could hold her just one more time like he had held her this afternoon, taking away her fear, making everything all right again…

She even made a small, trembling step forward, but in that instant, Bishop turned away from her, kneeling beside the corpse at her feet, reaching for his weapon, and Liliana couldn't stop herself from wincing as the scimitar came out of the bearded man's forehead with a wet, grating sound.

She watched him kneeling there, cleaning the blade on the man's clothes, as her eyes suddenly fell on the wound in his shoulder, the cut still bleeding slightly and staining his tunic in a deep red.

"You're hurt.", she murmured softly as she reached down to carefully touch his shoulder, her fingers trembling.

With an angry twitch of his shoulder, Bishop shrugged her hand off.

"Never mind.", he growled as he stood, lifting the man's dead body onto his shoulder. "Just a scrape."

He turned to walk towards the door, but she quickly reached out and grabbed his right arm. "You're bleeding.", she insisted, her voice now sharp with worry and a faint hint of annoyance. Why did he always have to be so stubborn?

Males. They all think they must act the hero.

"Let me have a look."

Impatiently, he wrenched his arm free. "It's nothing.", he snarled as he glared at her for a split second, his eyes narrowed dangerously, before he finally turned away and left the hut, leaving her behind with the dead.

There was a low grunt, and Karnwyr trotted towards her, watching her intently with his bright eyes. Liliana kneeled, glad for any excuse to sit down for a moment, and petted the wolf's forehead with trembling hands, trying to ignore the fact that his flews were still stained with blood.

"Thanks for your help.", she murmured quietly into his ear, a part of her feeling truly glad that he was with her, that there was at least someone who was offering her some kind of comfort. The wolf grunted again, nudging her palm with his nose, and then turned around and followed his master swiftly into the woods.

The silence of the hut suddenly seemed to surround her like a shroud, the dead watching her with their glassy eyes, an almost accusing expression on their pallid faces. Another cold shiver of fear ran down her spine, but Liliana fought against the new wave of terror that made her throat feel tight and closed around her heart in an icy grip.

They had been bad people. They had wanted to hurt her. Now their souls were with the gods, and would feel the consequences for their actions. Nothing to fear. Nothing to be afraid of.

She would not succumb to her fear again. She could be strong. She could handle this.

The wooden planks of the threshold creaked ominously, and Liliana jumped, her heart catching in her throat, and felt a huge wave of shame and relief flood her being as she saw that it was only Bishop, returning from his walk into the woods. He stepped into the hut without casting her as much as a glance, and simply lifted the next corpse onto his shoulders before he finally made his way back into the wilds with his load, obviously determined to clean the hut.

Well, she could help with that.

Carefully avoiding to take another look at the remaining corpses, she made her way back to the chimney and resumed her work at the fireplace. It took her a while to strike a spark, because her fingers were still shaking so badly, but finally, a merry fire crackled in the chimney, and the warm, lively dancing flames were a balm to her weary soul.

All the time she was working clumsily with flint and steel, Bishop went in and out of the hut, removing the dead. She felt relieved when the last one had been carried out of the cabin, but frowned as she looked onto the floor, now covered with blood and other, more unsavoury bits and pieces her mind really did not want to dwell on.

Well, everything was better than just sitting here alone, shaking like a leaf.

So she got up, took the iron pot from its place beside the chimney, and went outside to fetch some fresh water from the well. She watched Bishop disappear into the woods with his load, and felt that strange ache in her heart again, now accompanied by confusion.

What was it with him that he was always getting snarly and irritated with her, when all she wanted was to take a look at his shoulder, to see whether he would be alright?

He had risked his life for her, after all.

So why wouldn't he just let her express her gratitude in the only way she could, by taking a look at his injuries, dressing the wound?

Maybe you should have told him that you know something about the healer's craft, she mused while pulling up the bucket, maybe he thinks that you would only make things worse, that you don't know what you're doing.

Well, she thought as she carried the filled pot over the small clearing and back towards the hut, casting another glance in the direction where he had vanished from her sight, I will fix that, as soon as he returns.