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.
The first thing she noticed as she slowly rose from her restful sleep were the birds, chirping merrily in the first light of dawn.
Liliana turned on her back and stretched with a yawn, her fingers gliding through the tangled strands of her silvery hair, and opened her eyes lazily. But at the sight of the now so familiar wooden beams and cobwebs that made up the ceiling of the hut, she felt the heavy weight of her fear and despair drag at her heart almost instantly, and her blissful drowsiness vanished as fast as the morning mist between the trees as all her painful memories rushed back in a heartbeat.
Reluctantly, she turned her head, and was both relieved and surprised to see that Bishop had already left the hut, his belongings now widely scattered across the floor. She frowned as she saw both his leathers and weapons still leaning against the wall, with only his cloak missing.
What was he doing, if he had not gone hunting again?
She sat up on her bedroll, the blankets still tightly wrapped around her shoulders, and listened intently, but heard only the melodious chirping of the birds and the soft rustling of the wind in the trees. No chopping sound of an axe, or a creaking sound from the well. Whatever he was doing, it seemed as if he had vanished into the woods for it.
Which left her alone in the hut, chained to the wall.
Liliana sighed and lifted her head to cast a searching glance through the grimy window, surprised at the various dots of blue that shimmered through the leaves and the dirt. After all this time of rainy grey, it seemed as if the sun had finally deciced to return to the woods, and she felt a sharp pain pierce her heart as she remembered that the last time she had felt its warm rays on her face, she had still been with her beloved ones.
Before he had come and had taken her away.
I should be glad he's gone, Liliana reminded herself resolutely as she leaned her back against the wall, her eyes now staring sightlessly at the ceiling, what do I care what he's up to, as long as it keeps him away from me?
It was just…
Not that she actually missed his company. It was just so hard to keep herself from thinking, with no one else to distract her from her thoughts and an iron ring around her ankle which kept her shackled to the wall, forcing her to stay put.
And she really did not want to think anymore. Thinking only led her back to the memory of his harsh voice and cold eyes, telling her what fate he had in store for her, which would only lead to more misery and pain, and tears.
She sniffed and forcefully rubbed her eyes, determined to be strong this time.
She did not want to feel so miserable anymore. Merciful gods, she had been scared for so long now that she could not even remember what it felt like not to be afraid for her life, every waking hour of the day.
At that thought, another memory came unbidden to her mind, the memory of a recent walk through the woods, hunting a deer, and of his arms, enveloping her to show her how to use his bow, which made her squirm uncomfortably all of a sudden.
I have to do something, she thought, desperately trying to shove these memories and other, similar ones back into the darkest regions of her soul, anything, just to keep my mind off things. I'll go crazy if I don't.
Her eyes fell on the tunic Bishop had worn during the fight yesterday, still lying in a disordered heap on the ground, and felt something close to relief well through her as she reached out to fetch the torn, bloody piece of cloth. She honestly did not give a damn right now whether his clothes were neatly mended or not, but stitching would help her to clear her mind, and to keep the pain at bay.
If she could reach needle and thread.
Luckily, Bishop had rummaged through his backpack last night and had therefore shoved the sack a bit in her direction, otherwise she most likely wouldn't have been able to reach it - again. Even now she had to lay herself flat on the ground, stretching her arms as far as the chain would allow her, and it took her a couple of tries until her fingers finally brushed against the rough leather of his bag.
She dug her fingers into its side and pulled with all her strength, a soft moan escaping her at the sudden pain that spread through her hand as she tried to move the heavy bag with only one hand, but a small pull was all she needed. Finally, the backpack lay easily within her reach, and with a sigh, she lifted the heavy bag and put it down beside her resting place, opening the laces with slightly trembling hands to rummage through its depths.
It took her a while to find the small, wooden box in which Bishop kept needle and thread, and she couldn't keep herself from frowning as she stared at the slightly bent needle and the meagre, half-used reel of thread.
Well, seems like someone does not like to spend his time mending his clothes very much, she thought drily as she threaded the yarn through the small loop, cutting the thread with her teeth. Probably, from what she had seen of him so far, he most likely preferred to go to a merchant and simply buy some new ones, without wasting his precious time with craftsmanship like this.
There was the sound of soft footsteps approaching, and she looked up, her heart wrenching painfully as she saw Bishop now standing in the doorway, his hair damp with dew. He simply stood there, staring at her, and there was something in his eyes that made her stomach churn uncomfortably all of a sudden, an expression that she had never seen before, and it bothered her.
Maybe he was displeased because she had rummaged through his backpack again? Or because she had not washed his tunic first, like she had promised? But how was she supposed to mend the fabric without needle and thread, not to mention the fact that she could not even get up and fetch some water from the well, as long as she was chained to the wall?
He simply stood on the threshold, staring at her, his continued silence making her nervous, and so she cast him a hesitating smile, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she carefully studied his face, not knowing what to make of him.
"I… I would have washed it first," she tried to explain, her mouth feeling surprisingly dry all of a sudden, "but I could not reach the fireplace." She lifted her foot a little and continued haltingly. "If you could take this off, I will try to get the blood out after I'm finished."
The intense stare from his unusual eyes was more than a little unnerving, and she swallowed, feeling her pulse pick up in a mixture of fear and confusion as she looked up into his face, the churning feeling in her stomach intensifying forebodingly.
He moved up to her and knelt by her side, silently removing the ring around her ankle, before he stood and quietly left the hut once more, without casting her as much as a glance or saying a single word.
Liliana watched him go in confused silence, her fingers closing unconsciously around the piece of cloth in her hand, and did her best to ignore the feeling of dread that settled in her stomach as she lifted the tunic once more, trying to distract herself from his strange behaviour through her stitching.
No more thinking, she reminded herself while she carefully threaded the needle through the cloth. If something was bothering him, she really did not want to know.
Unfortunately, the cut hadn't been too long, and so she had finished her task all too quickly. With a sigh, she put the tunic down on her blankets and got up, walking over to the chimney and, after a nervous glance at the door, picking up his waterskin from the ground to drink thirstily, the faint taste of leather becoming more and more familiar.
Her eyes caught a flash of green and red amidst the logs next to the fireplace, and she knelt, surprised to see two apples lying half-hidden under the wood. Had Bishop brought them with him from one of his little excursions into the woods? Their skin was shrivelled and showed small brown dots here and there, but their sweet smell beckoned to her, and her grumbling stomach nudged her to give in to the temptation and devour them on the spot.
The first fruit's flesh was overly soft, but otherwise, it tasted sweet and deliciously apple-like, and so she ate it with real enjoyment, reminding herself to take it slow, no matter how much her stomach tried to goad her on to hasten her meal. After she was finished, she slowly licked the juice from her fingers, eyeing the second apple in her hand longingly, but finally put it down on the table with a small sigh.
Something seemed to be grating on Bishop's nerves, and she really did not want to ignite his temper again by eating more than her share of the food without permission.
Now that her stomach was momentarily mollified, she felt other, more basic needs try to attract her attention, and so she made her way to the door, intending to vanish into the bushes and then fetch some water from the well on her way back… and stopped dead in her tracks as she reached the threshold and saw Bishop standing close by, leaning against the wooden wall of the hut.
The light in the hut was dim even at the best of times, and so Liliana was shocked to see that his normally tan face seemed almost waxen in the bright light of day, the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced than before, looking as if he had not slept properly for days.
She watched him leaning against the wall, his eyes closed and his hands balled to fists, breathing heavily, as if he was in pain, and felt that strange ache in her heart again as she studied his pale face. Most likely the wound in his shoulder was still hurting him, had probably bothered him the whole night. No wonder he looked so miserable…
His eyes suddenly snapped open and fixed on her, that strange expression flickering across his face again, and her heart gave another painful leap as she felt her cheeks reddening with embarrassment that he had caught her staring at him.
"I have to…", she stammered and then stopped, indicating helplessly at the bushes that surrounded the cabin, her cheeks now flaming red. Bishop just shrugged and pushed himself from the wall, making his way to the well without casting her a second glance, and Liliana hastened to vanish into the bushes, trying hard to fight down that strange ache in her chest as she knelt between the trees, her eyes staring sightlessly at the dots of blue sky above, and the slightest bit of worry crept unbidden into her heart.
What if the wound got infected, even though I cleaned it, she thought, frowning, maybe I should take a look at it, change the bandages…
No, another part of her reminded her sharply as she got up to slowly make her way back to the hut, no more caretaking, remember? He's the enemy. You couldn't care less whether he's in pain or not.
But it was hard to remember the look on his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes and not feel the sudden urge to walk up to him, to gently stroke his cheek and tell him that everything would be alright again…
What am I thinking?, she gasped, the faint hint of panic that accompanied her previous trail of thoughts making her pulse speed up.
She did not care. He was evil. Unscrupulous. Unfeeling. And was making her life as miserable as it had ever been. If he felt the least bit miserable himself, he most definitely deserved it.
I do not care, she thought grimly as she determinedly walked up to the well, I just want to earn my food, that's all. I could not care less whether he feels fine or not.
But her resolve wavered as soon as she saw him standing there, his hands braced on the edge of the well, staring into its depths, a haunted expression on his pale face, and her heart gave another painful squeeze as she slowly approached him, resolution and pity now battling strongly in her chest.
He must have been deep in his thoughts, because he jumped as she stepped up beside him and reached for the bucket of water, obviously not noticing her presence before than.
"Can I use this?", she asked, silently cursing herself for still sounding so much like a frightened little girl, "I think I remember Nedda… my governess saying something about cold water working best with blood stains when I once cut myself and spoiled my clothes, so…"
He turned his head to look at her, and the painful squeeze in her heart intensified as she gazed into his unusual eyes, that haunted expression still on his face, and cursed again as she couldn't keep herself from giving him another small, hesitating smile, for a part of her still nourished the feeble hope that she would somehow be able to thaw the strange look in his eyes.
Sheep.
He stepped away from her, shrugging wordlessly, but kept staring at her in such a disturbingly unnerving way that she quickly walked up to the well and opened the knot of the rope with slightly trembling hands to lift the bucket from the edge, driven by the desperate desire to return to the hut, to get some distance between them. Something was bothering Bishop, and whatever it was, she did not like it.
"Thanks,", she murmured as she turned away, glad that her voice only trembled ever so slightly as she spoke. "I'll try to get the stains out of your tunic, then."
She could feel his eyes on her all the way back to the hut, scorching her even across the distance, and the dreading feeling that had stayed with her all morning made her stomach churn uncomfortably again as she put the bucket down next to the lopsided bench and walked back into the hut to fetch his tunic and the piece of curd soap, haunted by the look in his eyes.
xxx
Liliana put the bucket down on the edge of the well and looked up, lifting a hand to shield her eyes against the bright light of day. Judging from the position of the sun and the grumbling in her stomach, she guessed that it was already well past midday, and she sighed as she whiped her forehead with her hand, the warm air and thick fabric of her dress making her perspire and feeling somewhat light-headed after all the exertions of the day.
She had spent the whole day working, just to keep her mind off things. First, she had sat down on the bench to scrub Bishop's tunic, humming quietly to herself to distract her from the dreadful thoughts that had threatened to form in her mind, whispering to her in poisonous voices.
Bishop had vanished into the woods again, and, to be honest, she had been glad about it. The moment he had been out of her sight, it had felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she had relaxed a little, glad to be freed from the burning look in his eyes and that haunted expression on his face.
It had taken her a while to clean the tunic, since she had never done such work before, but finally, the bloody stains were almost gone, and she had pulled up another bucket of water to rinse the cloth and then drape it across the bench to let it dry in the sun.
Liliana smiled as she remembered her astonishment at the sight of her image in the water, her long, silvery locks a tangled mess, with leaves and little twigs all over her hair and stripes of dirt on her cheeks. The thought of what her family and friends would have to say to her, could they actually see her in her current state, had made her smile a little, and so she had scrubbed away at her arms and face with some water and had tried to undo the greatest knots in her hair with her hands to make herself the least bit presentable again, but surprisingly enough, she had realised that she did not mind her current appearance too much.
She had much more important things to worry about than a little dirt.
I'd love to see Jeanne out here in the woods, though, trying to deal with all this, she had mused in grim satisfaction as she had started rinsing the tunic, the thought of her friend fainting all the time rather from the dirt than her imprisonment actually making her giggle.
Working and singing had helped a lot to ease the looming feeling of dread in her stomach, and so she had decided to clean up the hut as well after she had finished the task, had cleaned out the fireplace, had removed most leaves and twigs from the floor and had even started to clean the windows, but had given up as she realised that she was only smearing the dirt rather than cleaning the glass.
So she had returned to tidying up the hut eventually, and had collected the rests of their evening meal in the bucket, intending to empty the bones some distance from the hut, so that their smell wouldn't attract any wild animals.
There came a sudden grunt from behind, and Liliana jumped, relieved to see that it was only Karnwyr, quietly making his way towards her across the clearing.
"Hello!", she said, smiling as she watched the wolf approach. "You gave me quite a fright, did you know that?"
"I was already wondering where you had vanished to," she continued as she lifted a hand to gently pat his head, "I suspect you simply spent the night in some cosy wolf den, didn't you?"
Karnwyr gave another short grunt as she started to scratch him behind his ears, but did not look up at her, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere to her left. Liliana followed his gaze, and raised her eyebrows as she saw that the wolf was staring right at the bucket still standing on the edge of the well, and still filled with the bones of their last night's dinner.
So much for attracting wild animals, she mused with a small smile, and reached into the bucket to lift one of the larger bones, probably a former thigh or calf. The wolf tensed as soon as his gaze fell upon the treat that she now held loosely in hand, and his eyes darted between her face and the bone, looking… expectantly?
"What?", she asked sweetly while returning his yellow stare, "You want this?"
She lifted the bone, and Karnwyr barked in response, retreating a few steps and then starting to dance up and down in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers, hackling excitedly. As if he was expecting her to… what, throw the bone?
That thought made her raise her eyebrows in surprise while she watched his little hops and turns, still irresolute. Did wolves actually like playing games like that?
Well, I'll never know until I've tried.
So she lifted the bone over her head, watching the wolf tense immediately, and in a sudden impulse of mischievousness, just feigned throwing the bone, like she had done so many times with the dogs of her grandfather.
Karnwyr bolted off into the direction that she had indicated, but stopped after a couple of steps as he finally realised his error, and then turned around to face her once more, and Liliana couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the indignant expression on his furry face.
"I'm sorry, muff, " she smiled, feeling surprisingly light-hearted all of a sudden, "but I couldn't resist."
Karnwyr grunted noncommittally, and returned swiftly to her side, still hopping and dancing excitedly, his eyes fixed on his prey. Her misery momentarily forgotten, Liliana lifted the bone again, and was amazed to see that the wolf actually fell for her trick a second time, obviously enjoying their little game as much as she did, because he returned to her side in an instant, still hackling and yelping excitedly.
She laughed with delight and made a few steps away from the well with Karnwyr following close on her heels, dancing around her in an attempt to reach the bone she was now holding high over her head, her heart filled with sweet wonder. Who would have thought that wolves could be so much like dogs and enjoy a silly game like this, wild animal or not?
Karnwyr tensed all of a sudden, and with a powerful leap that caught her completely unawares, he snapped at the bone in her hand, his impressive jaws closing tightly around it, and started to pull.
Liliana squeaked in surprise and hastened to tighten her own grip around their quarry, unwilling to be outwitted so easily.
"Bad muff!", she laughed as she was pulled forward, "That's my bone! Let go!"
The wolf growled deep in his throat, an astonishingly playful sound for an animal his size who, just in this very moment, showed his very impressive amount of sharp teeth again, and started to pull even harder, his jaws closing more tightly around the bone with a light, cracking sound.
Liliana giggled as she was pulled inexorably further and further in his direction, determined to hold on while she searched for the right footing to try and turn the tables on the little flea sling that had dared to hop in and now intended to steal her bones from her, when she felt a stare on her back, and she turned, only to find Bishop approaching them swiftly, and a faint trace of apprehension mingled with her mirth as she saw the way his lips were pressed to a thin line, his whole body seeming tense like a spring.
He stopped dead in his tracks as her eyes met his, and a strange emotion flickered across his face, one that she had never seen before, but not the haunted expression that he had worn in the early hours of day, either.
His eyes bored into hers, seeming unusually bright, like a flame had suddenly been kindled in their depths, and she felt the same inexplicable pull towards him that she had felt last afternoon, when he had held her in his arms after Karnwyr had made his unforgettable appearance, and she swallowed, the beat of her heart accelerating noticeably while she answered his burning stare, unable to look away.
Unconsciously, her grip around the bone loosened, and Karnwyr gave a small, surprised yelp as the wolf suddenly staggered backwards, but his sound of protest went unnoticed, for her attention was solely fixed on the man standing before her, still watching her with that flaming eyes, and for the length of a heartbeat, it seemed as if his mask actually slipped away, and she was surprised to see so many, contradicting emotions chase each other on his face, making it almost impossible to read any of them properly.
He looked strangely lost, standing some steps away under the trees, watching her, and her heart gave another painful squeeze while its pace sped up even more. That fire in his eyes… wandering over her skin like a brand… was that …actually longing she saw on his face?
Hesitatingly, she made a step forward, suddenly wishing to close the distance between them, to put her arms around him and let her fingers wander through his strands of mahogany hair, whispering soothingly into his ear until that look of loneliness would vanish from his eyes…
But the moment she made her first, hesitating step, Bishop abruptly turned on his heels and walked away from her, continuing his way to the hut, which left her staring after him, her chest feeling surprisingly tight all of a sudden as she watched him enter the shed, disappearing from her sight.
By every god and his mother, what had she been thinking?
She heard him rummaging in the small cabin, and then saw him stepping outside again, dragging a large block of wood along the way. An axe was sticking out of it, and the tight feeling in her chest intensified in a more than painful way as she quickly turned away from him, her hands now clutching at the stony edge of the well, and not for the first time in days she felt anger and shame ripple through her in hot, strong waves at the treacherous sting in her eyes.
Gods, what a sheep she was.
Look at you, pathetic, weak, blubbering. You're disgusting.
It hurt to admit it, but he had been right to call her that. She was pathetic, and weak. He had simply returned to the hut to chop more wood. So why was she still trying to fool herself that she mattered the least bit to him, that he actually cared? There was the sharp, splintering sound of steel connecting forcefully with wood, accompanied by a strange, wailing sound, and she looked down, only to see Karnwyr standing by her side again, the wolf glancing up at her with a questioning expression in his yellow eyes, the bone now lying in the grass at her feet.
"Sorry muff,", she said quietly, and another wave of shame rippled through her as she heard her voice, sounding unusually high and strained all of a sudden, "I'm not in the mood right now. But you can keep the bone."
She reached for the bucket with slightly trembling hands and made her way into the woods without paying much attention to the place where she emptied the bones, her heart feeling so terribly heavy now that she actually found it hard to breathe.
Merciful gods, she thought as she finally made her way back to the clearing, following the sound of the axe echoing through the trees, please, show mercy on one of your faithful children. Put an end to this nightmare, and I will…
The close sound of splintering wood startled her out of her silent prayer, and Liliana looked up, surprised to see that she was now standing under the trees close to the shed, and not in front of the well, as she had expected. Reluctantly, she lifted her eyes, and couldn't keep herself from inhaling sharply as she saw Bishop standing there with the axe in hand, his chest bare, his cheeks reddened from the exertion, and hacking away at the wooden logs with abandon.
For one long moment, she remained under the trees, her eyes fixed on him, drinking in the sight of his muscles, rippling powerfully under his tanned skin every time he brought down the axe. Then it felt as if her cheeks had suddenly caught fire, and she hurried to get away from him and back to the hut before he would notice her presence.
The cool, shadowy air of the cabin was a balm to her flaming cheeks, and she let herself sink to the ground close to the door, burying her head in her hands as another wave of shame and embarrassment welled through her, choking her.
Gods, what was happening to her?
Was she losing her mind? How could he make her feel this way, cold-hearted killer that he was, tricking her into feeling sorry for him although he was the last man in all Faerun who deserved her pity?
She lifted one hand to wipe her sweaty forehead, and was startled of how hot her skin felt under her touch, almost feverish. No wonder her mind was wandering along such treacherous paths when she had exerted herself so much. She reached for the rim of her dress with both hands and used her skirt to fan her some air, sighing as she felt the cool draught wandering over her face and legs.
Just look at me, she thought, my hands blackened with soot, my whole body sweating from the warm air and the work… no wonder I feel so dirty all of a sudden.
Well, she could do something about that.
With another sigh, she stood and reached for the bucket, quietly making her way back to the well to fetch some water, keeping her eyes solely fixed on the rope as she fastened the bucket once more, trying to ignore the chopping sounds from the shed.
Quickly, she lowered the bucket into the well and pulled up some water, the warm rays of the sun making her feel light-headed again. As soon as the bucket had reached the edge, she untied the knot around its handle and lifted it with both hands, turning around to make her way back to the hut… and couldn't keep herself from casting a quick glance in Bishop's direction.
He was still working diligently, sweating clearly from the exertion, and she could see his hair clinging to his forehead as he lifted the axe once more, the single droplets shimmering brightly in the light of the sun as they slowly ran down his bare back and chest…
Liliana gulped and quickly averted her eyes, more than angry with herself as she felt that strange heat return to her cheeks in an instant. He had nothing she had never seen before, after all. So why was she behaving like a simpering maiden every time he took off his tunic?
Because I'm a sheep, that's why, she thought angrily, her quick, agitated pace making her splash some water on the threshold. Well, no more, she swore to herself as she filled the water forcefully into the tub, rolling up her sleeves to start scrubbing away at her arms with his soap.
The water was very cold, and she shivered after the first, blissful cooling effect had ebbed away. The thought of washing her legs and feet with the same, icy water was less than pleasant, and she hesitated, casting a thoughtful glance at the now neatly cleaned chimney.
What if she made a fire to warm the water?
For one moment, she imagined his reaction, should he come back into the hut and find her warming the water so she could wash herself, but she just gave the thought a mental shrug and stood to walk over to the chimney, piling up the logs and then determinately reaching for the pouch with flint and steel.
He could wash himself with icy water as much as he liked. Just because he was some wild man of the woods who did not know the least bit about etiquette did not mean that she had to adopt his crude manners.
She waited until the flames began licking merrily along the logs and then turned around to fill the water from the tub into the pot, so that she could heat it over the fire. After she had finished the task, she lifted the iron cauldron with both hands and was already half-way on her way back to the chimney as she suddenly realised that something was wrong.
The fire was still crackling merrily, its warmth wandering over her skin like a feathery draught, but the smoke did not escape through the chimney as it was supposed to do. Instead, it wavered out of the fireplace in thick, grey clouds, and so she hastily walked over to the fire and put it out with some quick splashes of water from the pot, using her skirt to fan the smoke, coughing violently in the process.
After her eyes had stopped watering, Liliana knelt beside the ashes and carefully leaned into the chimney, staring into the narrow well. There was a dark lump clogging the chimney, probably of leaves and twigs that had been washed into the well by the storm last night, and she sighed, reaching down for the makeshift-spoon still lying next to the fireplace, trying to remove the obstruction.
But even with the branch, she could not reach it, and so she got to her feet, almost crawling into the chimney and stretching her arm as high as she could, but even now she could not reach the lump, no matter how far she stretched herself.
"Bloody… hells!", she hissed, breathing heavily from the strain, poking the branch forcefully into thin air.
"What's wrong?"
Bishop's cool voice echoed through the hut, strangely distorted by the well, and she jumped, for she had not heard him approach. She stepped out of the chimney, her face feeling uncomfortably hot after all that poking and cursing, and felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw him coming towards her, his chest still bare and a large pile of logs now lying on the ground, close to the door.
Her mouth felt strangely dry all of a sudden, and she forcefully cleared her throat, telling herself that she was no simpering maiden. She would not let him get to her so easily ever again.
"I… I think there's something stuck in the chimney. It doesn't draw properly, so probably the wind last night…"
"Oh, for the heaven's sake!", Bishop interrupted her with a huff, that faint hint of annoyance back in his voice, and her eyes widened as he quickly crossed the remaining distance between them to take the branch from her hand, stepping up beside her and leaning into the chimney, poking around forcefully.
She could feel the heat radiating from his body, now only a few inches away from her own, while his heady scent invaded her nostrils, and hastily, she made a step back, her cheeks flaming once more.
There was a soft, hissing noise, and the lump suddenly came down in an avalanche of soot and leaves, burying Bishop's form under it. He coughed violently as he hastily retreated from the chimney, one half of his face and upper torso now covered with soot, a huge amount of leaves and twigs in his hair and on his shoulder, and at this sight, Liliana couldn't help herself but to start giggling violently, quickly covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound. Bishop turned around to glare at her, his eyes narrowed dangerously to slits.
"Not funny!", he snapped, but she actually saw a grin tug at the corners of his mouth.
He looked so funny, standing there in front of the chimney with his face blackened and leaves in his hair, the dark expression on his face actually reminding her of a badger that had been driven out of its den, and Liliana just couldn't help it, she had to giggle even more violently at the sight of his scowl, the sound of her laughter chiming merrily through the small hut.
"Watch it, mousie.", Bishop said in what seemed to have been an attempt to put her in her place, but the effect was rather spoiled by the soft chuckle that escaped him, his own amusement thawing the cold look in his eyes. Still laughing merrily, the sudden outburst of happiness making her feel giddy, she made a quick step forward and, without thinking, started to pull some twigs out of his hair.
The softness of the mahogany strands surprised her, and she smiled as her hand wandered down to his shoulder, gently brushing away the leaves that clung there. He tensed under her touch, and the amused look in his eyes suddenly gave way to the same burning intensity that she had seen earlier that day under the trees, and her fingers started to tremble as she looked up into his face, frozen.
For some endless moments, he just stared at her, the heat in his eyes searing her face, and then lifted a hand to bury it into her hair, his thumb now softly stroking her cheek, and Liliana inhaled sharply as she felt goosebumbs rise all over her body, staring into those burning eyes, mesmerized against her will by the smouldering heat she saw in them.
His hand wandered down the column of her throat towards her neck, the feathery touch of his caress making more shivers run down her spine as she closed her eyes for a moment, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as his rich scent invaded her senses again, making her head swim.
Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he leaned closer, his breath now warm on her cheek, and Liliana drew another trembling breath as her common sense began screaming at her to move away from him, to put some distance between them, but strangely enough, she felt almost paralysed, as if her feet had been rooted to the spot, unable to escape the fire that burned in those amber depths, and unconsciously, she leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
His eyes never leaving her face, she could feel his grip tightening around her neck as he started to gently pull her towards him, his face now only inches away from her own, and there was a sudden yearning in his eyes, like a silent plea not to turn him away.
She gulped, her throat feeling so terribly dry all of a sudden, and watched in fearful anticipation how he pulled her closer and closer, their lips now only a breath apart, almost touching each other…
There was another hissing noise, and a second avalanche of soot and leaves poured from the chimney, covering them both. Thick, dark clouds of ash filled the air, burning in her eyes and lungs, and Liliana hastily retreated from the chimney, her violent coughs mingling with Bishop's own forceful wheezing.
The first urge to cough slowly subsiding, she rubbed her eyes, blinking her tears away, and froze as her gaze fell upon Bishop, now standing a few feet away from her, still coughing violently, and at his sight, it felt as if a huge downpour of icy water flooded down her back, chilling her to the bone.
Merciful gods…
She had let him hold her. Had simply allowed him to caress her cheek, had offered no resistance against his touch, had…
…had even leaned into his touch!
The feeling of his fingers, softly stroking her skin, their feathery touch making her shiver…
…the silent plea in his eyes, rekindling that sweet ache in her heart almost instantaneously, making it impossible for her to turn away from him…
…his scent invading her senses, that intoxicating odour of sun and leaves making her head spin and her heart constricting painfully, making her lean into his touch, following his pull willingly, her eyes fixed on his lips, filled by the sudden yearning to have him touch her, to feel…
Liliana gasped as an icy claw closed firmly around her heart, squeezing it mercilessly while her guts were coiling like snakes, realisation hitting her like a fist in the belly.
No! This cannot… I would never…
Bishop coughed one last time and then straightened his shoulders, lifting his head to look at her, and it felt as if a sharp knife had been driven deep into her heart, twisting forcefully in her chest.
For the length of a heartbeat she kept staring at him, her pulse pounding loudly in her ears. Then a strange feeling rippled through her, an icy wave of panicked fear that she had never experienced before, and hurriedly, she turned away from him, grabbing the blankets lying on the ground at her feet and starting to shake them out vigorously, only to do something, anything to keep herself from staring into his eyes, into his face, to distract her from what had just happened.
She could feel Bishop's eyes on her back, watching her while she deftly worked on the cloth before he quietly left the hut, the door closing behind him with a soft, creaking noise. The moment he was gone, Liliana fell on her knees and buried her head in her violently trembling hands, that icy wave of despair still clawing at her heart.
How could she let him touch her like that, even allow him to…
No, she thought forcefully, trying to shove the memories away as another wave of panicked fear threatened to choke her, it was an accident. It means nothing!
She pressed the hand with Cedric's ring against her chest, covering it with the other while closing her eyes with a small sob as guilt began to mingle strongly with her fear.
It means nothing, her mind repeated its silent mantra again and again while Liliana fought to keep her body from shaking so badly, fear and guilt now forming a tight, icy knot in her belly.
He means nothing to me, she promised the memory of her fiancé, clutching his ring with trembling hands. He's evil, a cold-blooded killer, and I hate him.
She had exerted herself. Days and days of constant fear and privation had finally weakened her mind, and so she had started to confuse things. Had simply craved a single sign of affection, a sign that she was more to him than just an assignment, but a woman who actually lived and breathed.
But that meant nothing. It was wrong, of course, and she would have to be more alert in the future to keep her mind from playing her such tricks again, but she would manage.
She had recognised the danger, after all. She would have to be more vigilant, and then she would never give in to that weakness again.
Liliana lifted her hands and rubbed her eyes, forcing her breathing to become calm and regular once more, fighting for some balance.
Get a grip on yourself, her mind urged her on. You can deal with this. You are strong!
Drawing another deep, shaking breath, she slowly got to her feet and made her way back to the chimney, kneeling beside the iron pot to splash some water onto her face. The icy liquid helped a lot to regain her composure, cooling her feverish skin, and she sighed, relieved that her hands now trembled only ever so slightly, the waves of fear and guilt that had been constantly rippling through her body slowly subsiding.
Good.
She would never let him see that he had almost gotten to her.
The door gave another one of its ominous creaks, and Liliana jumped, the beat of her heart speeding up noticeably as she heard Bishop's footsteps echoing through the hut once more, another wave of that icy panic welling through her.
What was she supposed to do now?
Move. Get away from him. Ignore him.
So she hastily got to her feet and made her way back to her corner of the hut without casting him as much as a glance, sitting down on the wooden planks and resuming her work with her blankets, slowly folding the large sheets of cloth, glad that she had something to do besides just sitting there, desperately trying to ignore the sounds of his movements.
There was a soft swooshing noise, and she looked up, startled, only to quickly avert her eyes again, hating herself for the treacherous heat that rose in her cheeks. Obviously Bishop had left the hut to wash himself and then fetch some of his things from the shed, for he was now leaning his scimitars against the wall close to the entrance, his hair dripping wet and the swooshing sound a result of the tunic that he had thrown down beside his backpack, which meant that only one of his shoulders was still covered with the bandages that she had fastened around his wound yesterday, allowing her another good look at his well-built and otherwise completely bared arms and chest, the single waterdroplets on his tanned skin glimmering even in the dim light of the hut.
Gods, he could at least have covered himself up by now, Liliana thought, annoyance now mingling strongly with her anger and embarrassment while she put down one neatly folded blanket and reached for the other.
So much about decency.
She heard him rummaging through the pile of logs that he had put down next to the door, and then making his way over to the chimney and back again, obviously starting to build another pile of firewood besides the fireplace, but she ignored him as best as she could, her gaze solely fixed on the rough piece of cloth in her hands.
The less she looked at him, the better.
It wouldn't do to tempt him into striking up a conversation.
Bishop made a strange sound, something between a soft moan and a hiss, and Liliana couldn't keep herself from casting him a nervous glance out of the corner of her eye, her hands tightening unconsciously around the rough fabric of the blanket in her lap.
He stood in front of the chimney, his back to her, massaging his wounded shoulder, and even in the dim light she could see the pained expression that flickered across his face as his hands touched her moist bandage, a stripe of dark liquid now staining the formerly white fabric.
"Does it hurt?"
The words came to her mind and escaped her lips before she could stop herself, and Liliana was shocked to see how easily that sweet ache had been rekindled in her heart at the sight of the pain flickering across Bishop's sharp features, making her chest swell with pity and other, much more subtle feelings she really did not want to dwell on.
At the sound of her voice, he turned his head, and once again, the sight of his unusual eyes, staring into hers, seemed to send a piercing bolt right through her heart, quickly followed by anger. Gods, what had she been thinking, addressing him herself when she had worked so hard to make him ignore her?
Sheep. Stupid, stupid sheep!
He held her gaze, his stare still intense, and then shrugged, graceful as a cat, but Liliana saw another almost imperceptible grimace of pain contorting his face as he did so.
"I'll live."
He turned away from her and walked back to the entrance, opening the door and leaving the hut once more, the sound of the merrily chirping birds drifting through the opening. For a moment, her eyes lingered on the spot where he had vanished from her sight, before she finally resumed folding her blanket with a small sigh, momentarily torn between care and confusion.
No wonder his shoulder seemed to bother him by every move, after he had spent most of the afternoon hacking more firewood for the chimney. And what if the moisture slowly seeped through the bandages, soaking his wound…
Stop that!, her mind demanded forcefully as her thoughts started to drift away. Do not even think about it. You do not care, remember?
Of course not.
He was evil. He was the enemy. She could not care less whether he was in pain or not. So no more questions about his well-being, and most definitely no more thinking about taking a look at his injury.
Good.
Another soft, creaking noise from the door almost made her jump, and Bishop reentered the hut again, carrying more logs in his arms. Liliana frowned as she watched out of the corner of her eye how he made his way over to the chimney and knelt beside the pile of firewood, adding more logs to it with deliberately slow movements of his arm to be easy on his shoulder, and felt a surprisingly strong wave of annoyance ripple through her.
Gods, why did he have to be so stubborn? If his shoulder hurt that much, he should simply sit down and rest, and not push himself even harder.
But it's not my problem, remember? I don't care whether he pushes himself too far.
Really?
No matter how hard she tried not to think about it, he had received this wound on her behalf, to save her from those thugs. He could have stayed in the woods, simply waiting till the men had been done with her, and then sneaking back during the night to fetch his things and leave her to her fate.
But he had decided to fight for her instead, and whether she liked it or not, she owed him for that.
Just one look at his shoulder, she told herself, trying to ignore the hysteric voice in her head that urged her to walk back to her part of the hut as soon as she slowly rose to her feet, making her way over to the chimney.
I'll just change the bandages, see whether the wound got infected, and then I'm free and clear.
"Let me take a look at your wound.", she said as soon as she stood by his side, in what she hoped sounded like a cool and indifferent voice. Bishop looked up at her, his face set in its usual impassive mask, but for the fracture of a second, a strange glint shone in his eyes, and Liliana frowned as she stared down into his face.
But as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and she mentally shook herself, certain that she had only imagined things. Why would he looked pleased with himself, after all?
Bishop leaned back on his heels, watching her, and his voice was set in its usual sneer as he replied.
"Why?"
Why?
That was most definitely not the answer that she had expected, and for one long moment, Liliana could do nothing but stare at him in surprise, searching for some words while battling her sudden confusion.
"Well, I… I just thought that someone should take a look at the bandages…they are wet…"
He snorted and returned his attention to the firewood, adding more logs to the growing pile.
"No need. Bandages are fine."
One of the logs suddenly slipped from the pile, but Bishop caught it in midair with a quick flick of his wrist, another small grimace of pain showing on his face at the sudden and forceful movement.
"Oh please!", Liliana huffed angrily as soon as she saw the look on his face, torn between admiring his fast reflexes and being annoyed with just another show of his male stubbornness, trying to pay no attention to the fact that her heart had given another squeeze at the sight of his muscles, rippling under his skin as he deftly caught the log with one hand.
"The cloth is almost dripping, and even a blind fool can see that your shoulder is hurting you, so don't try and act all tough and clench-jawed with me now. Just let me take another look at it, and I won't bother you again."
He cocked his eyebrows at her angry outburst, and then slowly got to his feet, the log still in hand, his piercing gaze fixed on her face, now staring down at her, and Liliana swallowed nervously as she suddenly realised how close she stood to him, catching a whiff of his rich scent.
For the length of a heartbeat, he just looked at her, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, calculatingly. Then his mouth lifted with a crooked smile, and he leaned a little closer, his scent rising even more prominently into her nose, and purred quietly into her ear.
"Worried about me, mousie?"
Her heart gave another painful squeeze at his words, but before she could do much more than gape at him with large eyes, he already withdrew from her and threw the piece of wood carelessly back onto the pile, the sudden noise making her jump.
"Fine.", he shrugged, his voice now as noncommittally as the expression on his face. "Do you what you have to do."
See?, the hysteric voice in her head piped up as soon as she quietly followed him to his bedroll, kneeling beside his backpack to search for some new bandages. Now he thinks that you actually do care about him, and will never let you hear the end of it. Well done, Liliana, well done.
Frowning at her trail of thoughts, she reluctantly returned her attention to Bishop and the wound in his shoulder, undoing the knots of his bandage with slightly trembling hands. Gods, it would be so much easier to ignore that voice in her head if her stomach would stop churning so uncomfortably at the sight of him sitting there, watching her intently while she slowly removed the linen around his shoulder, trying to ignore the way her pulse sped up whenever she came too close and accidentally inhaled his scent.
She could see the single droplets of water trickle from his dark hair, slowly making their way down his back, following the dragon scar down to the waistband of his breeches, and gulped, wondering not for the first time why she just had not been able to keep her mouth shut.
Just one look at the wound, she thought almost desperately as she removed the last linen layer. Just one more time, and then I'm free and clear.
She heard him inhale sharply as the last piece of cloth finally fell away, and felt a stab of guilt and pity at the brief grimace of pain that flickered across his face as she lifted the bandage from the wound.
"I'm sorry.", she replied soothingly as she threw the old bandage on the wooden floor, trying to feel not too guilty for hurting him. Bishop just growled and shook his head, but Liliana couldn't help but feel another stab of pity as she saw the tense expression on his face.
Promising herself to try and be a little more gentle from now on, unscrupulous thug or not, she leaned closer, carefully examining the wound. The cut looked a lot nastier than it had yesterday, with scab building all over the wound, but there was no pus, and after carefully probing the wound with her fingers, she was certain that with another clean bandage, it would heal fine in time.
"And?"
She almost jumped as she felt Bishop's breath on her cheek, murmuring quietly into her ear, and looked up, only to find his face just inches away from her own, his eyebrows drawn up, watching her expectantly.
Now that he sat so close to her, she could see small dots of green and gold circling his iris, and she stared, strangely fascinated by the way the light from the door reflected in his unusual eyes, a strand of his mahogany hair falling into his face, and without thinking, she lifted a hand to gently smooth the curl out of his eyes.
But as soon as the soft strands touched her fingers, she froze, and hastened to turn away from him, deliberately taking her time to put the old bandages aside and prepare the new ones, her pulse now pounding loudly in her ears.
"Looks good.", Liliana replied without thinking, her voice sounding unnaturally high and breathless, and then felt the burning desire to slap herself after she had finally realised what she had just said.
"I… I mean it heals fine.", she finished lamely, her cheeks now flaming red, feeling like they had just caught fire.
Gods, what kind of sheep was she?
Thankfully, she was keeping her back to him, for she did not think that she could stand the gloating smile on his face or the triumphant look that must be shining in his eyes, now that she had made such a complete fool of herself.
But as she finally returned her attention to his shoulder, knowing that she could not ignore her task any longer without being too obvious about her uneasiness, Bishop was just watching her without the slightest trace of malice on his face, simply waiting for her to fasten the bandage around his shoulder.
Sending a quick prayer to the gods, thanking them for him being so slow on the uptake for once, she took the linen cloth and started to dress his wound, taking painstaking care to keep her eyes solely fixed on the cut in his shoulder this time, but she couldn't keep her mind from wandering.
What was happening here?
No matter how much she had tried to pay it no attention, it was hard not to realise that things had somehow changed between them. There was some kind of bond now - fragile, yes, but undeniably there, and Liliana had to admit that it scared her to no end.
She thought of what had almost happened an hour ago, and felt a cool shiver run down her spine as she remembered the look in his eyes as he had bent his head, drawing her near to… to what? Kiss her? Her heart gave another frightened leap at that thought, but there were other, opposing emotions lurking in the back of her mind, making her stomach churn uncomfortably again.
Would he have kissed her, if that second avalanche of soot had not forced them to break apart? And the most important question, would she have allowed it?
Another image entered her mind, a memory of that first afternoon in the hut when she had run away from him, and the churning in her stomach increased almost painfully as she remembered the feel of his lips on hers, his weight pressing her down into the grass, a deep moan escaping his throat, and felt another wave of that icy fear well through her, her heart now beating with panicked speed.
I would never allow this to happen ever again, she thought grimly, a sudden outburst of determined anger driving away her fear as she fastened the bandage forcefully around his shoulder. There's no bond between us. I'm just a sheep, that's all. He does not care. He's just playing with me. But he won't get to me so easily.
"I'm done.", she stated curtly as soon as she had fastened the knot and got up, making her way back to her blankets without casting him as much as a glance. Bishop got to his feet as well, and she could see him move his shoulders out of the corner of her eye, a strange expression on his face.
"What?", she demanded, her sudden anger making her voice sharper than she had intended.
He cast her an amused glance as he shrugged with more ease this time, and a roguish grin played on his lips as he replied, his eyes glittering.
"Well, it's only half-bad."
"Oh, thank you so much for the praise.", she answered acidly, but felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth as well and could have slapped herself for that notion.
Just look at you, said the hysteric voice in her head, full of disapproval, not a minute ago, you said that you would not let him get to you so easily, and now you are sitting here, bantering. No wonder that he thinks he can treat you like some kind of plaything.
Her conscience churned uncomfortably at that unwelcome trail of thoughts, and one more time, the desire to do something became almost overwhelming, to let the work help her to keep her mind from thinking.
And from paying him any attention.
"I'll clean this up.", she murmured mostly to herself, quickly walking over to the chimney and starting to gather the dark heaps of ash and leaves on the ground with her hands. But she seemed to have underestimated his sharp ears, because as soon as the words had escaped her, he addressed her in that indifferent voice again, the soft creaking of leather telling her that he was kneeling beside his backpack.
"What did you need that fire for, anyway?", he asked, the sudden, rustling sound of cloth stroking over skin indicating that he was taking on his tunic again. For one long moment, she was truly battling with herself whether she should simply ignore his question or not, but in the end, her good education won.
"I… I just wanted to warm some water.", Liliana replied quietly while she was filling the first heaps of ash into the remnants of his shrunken tunic, using the torn piece of cloth as a makeshift-bundle. "To wash myself."
Bishop was silent for a moment.
"Good idea.", he said then. She could hear him rummaging through his backpack and putting several objects on the floor, but did her best to keep her eyes solely fixed on her task, even as she heard him get up and walk past her towards the small table in the other corner, placing the things he had gathered from his backpack on its wooden surface with a soft, clanking sound.
"Why don't you take the tub and take a bath?"
What?
That statement made her stare up at him, her eyes wide with shock while another strong wave of that icy panic rippled through her, chilling her to the bone.
Taking a bath? Here?
The idea of getting out of her dress, to expose herself to him, intensified the icy waves a thousandfold almost instantly, accompanied by an irrational fear to be even more vulnerable without her garment, tempting him to do things to her, and so she quickly averted her gaze again, hoping that he would not realise how violently her hands had started to tremble all of a sudden.
"No, I don't… that won't be necessary.", she stammered in a strangely subdued voice, fearing that her heart would simply jump out of her chest in fright.
She could feel his eyes on her, watching her, and hastened to fasten the corners of her bundle, most of the ash spilling back onto the wooden planks due to her trembling fingers.
"Why not?", she could hear him ask from the other side of the hut, and then heard his footsteps echo softly through the cabin as he slowly made his way towards her until he stood by her side, and his voice got a little sharper as he went on.
"To be honest, princess, you're looking as dirty as a charcoal-burner, and…", here he bent his head a little, and Liliana shivered as he murmured quietly into her ear. "You don't smell very flowery, either."
That last comment made her look up at him even despite her fear, her cheeks reddening in a confusing mixture of righteous anger and embarrassment. It was just so… unfair!
Who would not smell less than flowery after a few days in his company and the hospitality of this shabby hideout?
He was still standing beside her, staring down into her wide eyes, and for the fracture of a second, she saw an unreadable emotion flicker across his face before he finally averted his gaze, making his way over to the door.
"And if you're afraid I might jump you once you're out of your clothes,", he added with a wry look at her over his shoulder while he reached for his scimitars that still leaned against the wall close to the entrance, "just ask yourself if a bit of cloth could stop me if I wanted to."
Her heart gave another frightened leap at his words, and she stared at him, frozen. Had he actually read her mind?
Bishop turned his head, answering her stare, and there was a sudden mischievous glint in his eyes that she had not expected, his voice now light and mocking as he spoke.
"So no need to be prissy, princess. Or are you afraid of something else?"
"There's nothing here that I'm afraid of!", she hissed angrily, getting nimbly to her feet, the suggestive tone of his voice making her fingers itch with the sudden, unhealthy desire to slap him. How dare he mock her right into her face, saying such things to her, miserable thug that he was?
How dare he imply that there was actually more to her actions than her not too far-fetched concern that he would jump her once she was out of her clothes, as he had put it so nicely?
He quirked his eyebrows at her vehement outburst, and the amused glint in his eyes intensified.
"Taking a bath, then?", he asked still in that light, mocking tone, the ghost of a smirk now lifting the corners of his mouth.
"You bet I will.", Liliana replied forcefully, and after another poisonous glance in his direction, she made her way over to the chimney to replace the still wet logs, fuming silently as she reached for flint and steel.
Gods, what a prick he was.
Prissy, am I now? Oh, I'll give him prissy.
The anger was burning hot in her blood and kept simmering in her veins all the time during her long preparations, which she spent cleaning the floor in brooding silence, simply to keep herself from glaring daggers at him while she waited for the several pots of water to warm over the fire.
Bishop had sat down at the small table and had started maintaining his gear, cleaning his scimitars with the various items he had fetched from his backpack. Under different circumstances, she would have died to get a good look at him using oil and whetstone on his weapons, and maybe would have even asked him to explain to her what he was doing and why, but now, she simply ignored him, still way too angry with him to pay him any attention.
Finally, the tub was filled with steaming water, and Liliana swallowed hard as she stared at her reflection, silently cursing herself for her own stubbornness. How had he made her do it? She did not want to take a bath, here, with him only a few yards away.
But if she backed away now, she would never hear the end of it. The image of him, smirking at her refusal, that gloating glint back in his eyes, rekindled her determination, and after taking a deep breath, she made her way over to the table, promising herself to make it as quick as possible.
And, on the other hand, there was actually some truth in what he had said. If he really wanted to force himself upon her, he could have done so long ago, even on that very afternoon when she had run away. Why wait for her to get out of her dress?
It makes sense, in a way, she tried to convince her heavily pounding heart as she warily approached him, working slowly on one of his weapons with a polishing cloth. He looked up, and it chafed her to see that amused glint still in his eyes.
She shot him a rather haughty look and then simply turned around and lifted her hair, a silent order to open the laces of her corsage. She heard the chair scrape across the wooden floor as he got up, and then felt his hands on her back, answering her unspoken request.
She could feel his fingers wandering down her spine, slowly pulling the laces out of the various hooks and loops, their feathery touch making goose bumps rise all over her body, and clenched her teeth in frustration.
The gods knew that it had stung like hell that last time when he had opened her corsage, but now, she wished almost desperately that he would treat her clothes as roughly just this once, so that she could get away from him more quickly, the feel of his hands on her skin making her stomach churn uncomfortable again.
"That's enough!", she exclaimed as his fingers finally neared the curve of her hips and hastily withdrew from his touch, glad to put some distance between them, her chest feeling strangely tight all of a sudden. He watched her go and then shrugged, sitting down on the chair again, and Liliana's eyes widened noticeably as she saw him reaching for his polishing cloth, calmly resuming his work on his scimitar.
But… he cannot… he wouldn't…
"Are… are you going to stay here?", she asked incredulously, not believing her eyes at such a display of thoughtlessness.
He stopped in his task long enough to look up at her, and the arrogant smile on his face was enough to rekindle that simmering anger in her blood, making her fight the sudden urge to ball her fists and hit him squarely on his jaw.
"Why not?", he drawled, that mocking tone back in his voice, making her fingers itch almost painfully. "Still afraid I will be overwhelmed by the vision of your beauty?"
He leaned back in his chair comfortably, and the arrogant smile on his face broadened. "Or are you even more afraid I would not be tempted at all by what you have to offer?"
"Oh, forget it!", she hissed and made her way back to the tub, fuming furiously.
Arrogant son of a bitch.
Without thinking, she started to push the dress down her shoulders and then stopped in mid-motion, casting him an uneasy glance out of the corner of her eye. But he did not pay her any attention, his eyes fixed on the edge of his weapon, and so she quickly turned her back to him and hastened to get out of her dress and undergarments.
The water was pleasantly warm and enveloped her body as soon as she sat down in the tub, and Liliana sighed as its warmth slowly spread through her limbs, making them prickle in a more than comfortable way.
Maybe this wasn't such a daft idea, after all.
For a little while, she was content just to sit in the warm water, leaning against the wooden edge of the tub with her eyes closed, enjoying the warmth, before she finally reached for his curd soap and started to wash her arms and legs, scrubbing away at the soot and the dirt with abandon.
She even tried to wash her hair, but had to realise that the tub was too small for her to lean back to rinse it thoroughly, and experienced a short moment of heart-wrenching resignation and despair as she tried to scoop up some water with her hands and poured it over her head, which only made the soap run into her eyes.
It stung like hell, and she winced, forcefully rubbing her face to get the soap away, and her heart gave another startled leap as she suddenly heard the chair scraping across the floor, and Bishop's soft footsteps approached.
She hastily drew her knees to her chest, closing her arms tightly around her legs to cover herself as best as she could, and blinked at him with still watering eyes, which made his outline appear strangely blurry.
"Get up."
At the sound of his coolly spoken words, she could feel an icy shiver of dread run down her spine, and Liliana closed her arms even more tightly around her knees, her eyes wide.
"Wh… what?"
His eyes narrowed at her reaction, and there was a clear hint of annoyance in his voice as he replied, his cool gaze fixed on her.
"Princess, you obviously can't manage yourself, so I'll help. Simple as that. Besides…", here a truly wolfish grin flickered across his face, sending another shiver down her spine, "now you most definitely have nothing I've never seen before."
For the length of a heartbeat, she just stared at him, not understanding. Then the meaning of his words hit her full force, and her eyes widened again, but this time in indignation, not fear.
"You looked!", she declared accusingly, her sudden anger thawing her anxiety a bit.
His grin widened noticeably at her angry outburst, and the amused glint in his eyes ignited an almost irresistable desire to throw the soap at him.
"What did you expect? Anyway, I've seen it all now, so will you get up, or do you want to rub some more soap into your eyes first?"
For another long moment, she kept staring at him, her anger and anxiety battling strongly in her chest, not knowing what to do. He watched her struggle for a while and then simply turned his back to her, that amused grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth, and reluctantly, she got to her feet, quickly turning her back to him, her long hair falling like a wet curtain down to her waist.
She heard him move over to his backpack and cast a quick glance over her shoulder, watching him as he rummaged through his belongings and finally lifted a lovingly chased tin mug from its depths. He got up, and she quickly averted her eyes again, her heart beating painfully fast in her throat, her chest feeling unnaturally tight as she tried hard not to think about the fact that she was standing right in the middle of the hut, exposing her naked body.
She felt him step up behind her and then bent down, scooping up water from the tub with his mug and pouring it over her head. The water ran over her scalp and then down her back, and she suppressed a sigh, relishing its warmth, for the air was cooler than she had expected.
She felt his hand glide through her hair and flinched, her heart almost skipping a beat in fright, but he simply let it glide through the wet strands, fanning them out so that they would get clean more easily, and she shivered as his fingers grazed the skin of her neck with their feathery touch.
Repeatedly, he ducked the mug into the water and let its content run down her back, helping it along with his other hand, and she sighed as her anxiety slowly ebbed away.
Gods help her, but it felt so good, the warm water running down her back, his fingers wandering over her skin, making it tingle, and unconsciously, she leaned into his touch, another contented sigh escaping her lips.
There was a soft, thudding noise, and something fell into the tub beside her, touching her calf, but in this very instant, Bishop stepped even closer, his body now pressing firmly against her back. She could feel the delicious heat radiating from his chest, and felt a shiver of a different sort run down her spine as his hands slowly wandered from her neck to her shoulders, leaving her skin prickling in their wake.
His hands closed around her upper arms, strangely gentle in their certainty... and her heart skipped another beat as she suddenly felt his mouth on her shoulder, his tongue running slowly across her back, licking her skin, tasting her.
Oh, merciful gods!
