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.
Buffy friends might find the song somewhat familiar. The lyrics were just perfect for our story.
Somehow, completely screwed up my formatting this time. I tried again, with the same result. I hope I fixed everything...
Ack. And how I hate this censoring stuff. Of course I typed "fanfiction dot net screwed up my formatting", but it got censored out... Ack.
His lips felt surprisingly soft on her cool skin, and Liliana shivered as Bishop's mouth wandered slowly from her shoulder to her neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses on its way while his scent invaded her senses, making her heart race in her chest.
A soft moan escaped his lips, his grip tightening unconsciously around her arms, and she gasped as a sudden wave of heat welled through her, a feverish fire that spread through her limbs, burning her self, burning her sense away, leaving nothing but the sudden desire to melt into his embrace, to feel his lips wandering over every inch of her body, searing her skin...
He growled, a low, feral sound that sent more shivers down her spine, and then sank his teeth into the bow of her neck, raking her skin. A sharp pain spread through her shoulder, seemingly fanning the heat within her, but also clearing the haze that had clouded her mind, and Liliana's eyes widened in shock as she suddenly realised what she was doing.
Go, shrilled that hysteric voice in her head, full of panic, just GO!
With a desperate moan, she sprang forward, effectively breaking his grip around her arms. Her sudden movement seemed to have caught him by surprise, for Bishop offered no resistance at her attempt to pull away from him, and she jumped out of the tub, stumbling a few steps before she finally whirled around to face him, her pulse pounding deafeningly in her ears.
He watched her go, the flickering light of the fire casting strange shadows on his face, and Liliana tried desperately to cover herself with her hands, feeling more than just physically exposed to these burning eyes that held her gaze while wave after wave of that icy fear rippled through her, freezing her to the spot.
She stared at him, her eyes wide, her breathing quick and shallow, and felt her whole body tremble violently, the enormity of what she had just done hitting her like a fist in the belly.
No. This is not happening. This is not happening!
She watched him, terrified, ready to bolt through the door of the hut and make a run for it, should he actually try to follow her, but he just stood there, unmoving, watching her with his bright eyes, his expression unreadable.
"Get dressed.", Bishop said softly in a surprisingly calm voice. He cast her a last searing gaze and then turned his back to her, slowly making his way to the chimney and reaching for his waterskin.
For a moment, she hesitated, that icy fear still freezing her limbs, uncertain what to do. Then she made some quick steps and grabbed her dress and undergarments from the ground, hastily retreating back towards the wall, and hurriedly started donning her clothes, feeling so terribly relieved to be able to cover herself up again while her thoughts were racing in her mind like a bunch of panicked mice.
He had touched her again. And not only had she allowed it, this time, she had even leaned into his touch, had wanted him to touch her. For one cursed moment, she had truly craved his touch, had longed to feel his soft lips on her skin, to have his caress ignite that fire in her blood, but now, the memory of what he had made her feel left her nauseated and her bowels coiling like snakes, bile searing her throat.
How could I, she thought desperately, while fear and confusion were still rippling through her in strong waves. How could I allow this to happen?
She did not want this. And most certainly, she did not want him. There was another man she loved, another man whose touch she truly craved, and so she simply could not understand what was happening to her.
An image of Cedric came to her mind, of the love she had seen in his eyes that night they had spent under the stars down by the old boathouse, of that gentle smile that had played on his lips as he had smoothed a strand of her silvery hair out of her face, and a wave of hot shame welled through her, drowning her with its intensity, and Liliana's heart was aching so painfully under the burden of her shame that she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the floor and weep until there were no more tears left to cry.
Forcefully rubbing her eyes, trying to get at least some control of the emotional uproar that was raging inside her chest, she cast a panicked glance at Bishop, and was more than relieved to see him still standing in front of the chimney, his back to her, staring into the flames.
She had let him know. She had let him see that he could get to her, had shown him the weakness that was now constantly nagging at her mind, undermining her free will, poisoning her senses. The image of Cedric's smiling face haunted her, sending another wave of shame through her body as she remembered the gasp that had escaped her as Bishop's lips had wandered over her skin, making her feel like the most miserable and lowliest creature in all Faerun.
There were simply no words for the shame she felt, considering what she had done… and with whom. Was that really all it took? A crooked smile, a few gentle kisses, and she was forgetting all the vows she had made to her true love, almost giving herself to the man who held her captive here in the woods?
That last thought made more bile rise in her throat, and Liliana shivered as she pulled up the sleeves of her dress with still slightly trembling hands, a cool breeze from the door making goose bumps rise all over her body as it wandered over her bare back.
Oh merciful gods… I'm so sorry, so terribly sorry…
There was the soft sound of footsteps approaching, and she looked up, alarmed, and her heart almost caught in her throat as she saw Bishop slowly walking towards her, his face still that impassive mask, but with a strange light in his unusual eyes that made shivers of dread run down her spine.
No, screamed the hysteric voice in her head, get away from him. Don't let him touch you.
Slowly, she retreated, her eyes never leaving his face, as if her panicked stare could somehow keep him away from her, and Liliana jumped as her back suddenly hit the wall of the hut, sending another icy wave of fear through her body.
Get away from him? There was nowhere she could go. If she tried to run away, he would catch her just as easily as on that very first day when she had made that futile attempt to escape this nightmare.
So all she could do was watch in growing alarm how he came closer and closer, his eyes boring into hers, and her limbs were trembling so violently now that a part of her was wondering how she could still stand upright with her legs shaking so badly.
He stopped when he was nearly touching her, trapping her effectively against the wall, and lifted one hand to gently stroke her cheek. The moment his fingers touched her skin, she felt a tingling sensation race through her body, rekindling that treacherous ache in her heart almost instantaneously, and she swallowed, her mouth feeling so unnaturally dry all of a sudden.
How was he doing that to her?
She stared up, into his eyes, and her heart gave another aching squeeze as she saw his gaze actually softening, thawing the cold, impassive look on his face. She remembered the last time he had caressed her cheek like this, the yearning in his eyes as they had stood in front of the fireplace, and felt another wave of shame and embarrassment well through her as the memory brought the nearly irresistible desire to lift her own hand and caress his cheek, to feel the coarse stubble of his chin gently grazing her fingers…
He slowly bent his head, and Liliana closed her eyes, her heart thumping painfully in her chest while she waited in fearful anticipation for the moment when his lips would touch her mouth…
"Turn around so I can fasten the laces.", Bishop murmured quietly into her ear, his breath hot on her skin. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him, her pulse still racing, but now confusion mingled strongly with her fright.
He was simply watching her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, still standing close, but not drawing nearer, and she was so confused by this sudden change of events that she obeyed without question, turning his back to him and lifting her wet hair with still slightly trembling hands, trying not to wince at the cold droplets of water that were now slowly running down her back.
She could feel his hands on her skin as he started to thread the laces through the various hooks and loops, pulling gently at the strings to close her corsage, and felt goose bumps of a different sort rise all over her body. His hands were warm on her back, and she shivered, still trying to make sense of the things that were happening right now.
After what had taken place during her bath, she had been so certain that he had come over to kiss her. The memory of his soft moan as he had kissed her shoulder was still very vivid in her mind, and her neck was still stinging in the place where he had bitten her so passionately.
His fingers were grazing her neck once more, which sent another shiver down her spine, but now accompanied by a surprisingly strong wave of confusion and quickly rising anger.
Did he want to kiss her or not?
How was she supposed to make sense of him and his actions when he was so damned confusing, first telling her that she had nothing to stir his interest, only to walk over to her and start kissing and licking her skin the very moment she was getting out of the tub, and now simply lacing her dress as if nothing had ever happened?
What if I have misjudged him?
That thought made her feel like a sheep again, a treacherous heat creeping into her cheeks while her sudden embarrassment battled the freshly risen anger. But how could she have misjudged what had happened between them, when the sting in her neck told her so differently?
Liliana felt him fastening the laces of her corsage with one last pull before he finally moved away from her, and hesitatingly, she turned around, only to see Bishop making his way over to the tub, his back to her.
What… what if he indeed wanted to kiss her, but did not want to force himself upon her, just like he had said? If he had realised that she did not want to be touched by him, and had therefore refrained from kissing her?
That thought made a strange warmth spread through her body, a startling mixture of gratefulness and relief that made her heart ache with sweet pain once more. She had lost all illusions by now that she could actually do something to stop him, should he ever decide to take her by force, and the images that were brought up by that trail of thought made her stomach churn more than uncomfortable again.
But that there was still a part left of him that seemed to have enough sense of honour to stay away from her, murderous thug or not, was something that she had not expected, and she felt another wave of that grateful relief well through her as she watched him stop beside the tub, reaching for the hem of his tunic.
With one powerful pull of his arms, he ripped the tunic over his head to let it carelessly fall onto the wooden planks at his feet, and the sight of his bare back made the hysteric voice in her head shrill in alarm once more while her heart sped up nervously, that treacherous heat creeping back into her cheeks.
What was he up to?
Bishop turned around to face her, and again, the sight of his unusual eyes, staring into hers, was enough to send a piercing bolt right through her heart, making her chest feel tight and her breathing heavy.
"I'm afraid I will have to ask you to renew the bandages later, mousie.", he said in that low, vibrating voice that always sent shivers down her spine, while his hands slowly undid the knot that held the linen cloth fastened around his shoulder.
She watched as he carefully removed the bandages, knowing that it would have been more appropriate to avert her eyes, but the thought of having him at her back, not knowing what he was doing, was actually more frightening than just staring at his bare chest, and so she watched, her eyes fixed on him, trying to pay no attention to the way her breath seemed to become more and more irregular the longer she stared at his exposed skin.
Finally, the linen cloth fell to the floor as well, and her heart gave a panicked jump as she suddenly saw his hands wandering to his breeches, slowly undoing the laces there.
Merciful gods…
"Wh… what are you doing?", she squealed in an unnaturally high and breathless voice, and could only barely refrain from flinching as she heard how clearly her growing fear had been edged into every single spoken word.
"Taking a bath, little mouse.", Bishop replied calmly, his hands still working on the laces, and the purr in his voice sent another foreboding shiver down her spine. "There is quite a bit of soot left in my hair, remember?"
And without warning, he let go of his breeches, and Liliana's eyes widened in shock and surprise as she gaped at him, standing before her with all his clothes gone, leaving little to nothing to her imagination.
Mesmerized, she watched the light of the fire wandering over his tanned skin, the dancing shadows putting his muscles into sharp relief, and without really noticing, she slowly licked her lips as her eyes drank in the sight of his body, slowly wandering from his well-trained chest and arms down to his rear, her mouth feeling surprisingly dry all of a sudden.
Gods, he's beautiful.
The spell was broken the very moment her gaze fell on his loins, and with an unbelieving and embarrassed little squeal, she hastened to turn away from him, hurriedly retreating to her corner of her hut while her cheeks felt like they had been set on fire.
By every god and his mother, what had she been thinking, staring at him like that?
He had been naked. And she had gaped at him like a simpering maiden, as if she had never seen a man before. As if she had wanted to take a look at him. As if she had liked what she had seen.
Just imagine what your mother would have to say about such an indecent behaviour, her mind scolded acidly, fanning the flaming heat in her cheeks.
You should be ashamed of yourself!
Liliana sat down on her blankets, firmly staring at the wall ahead, focussing on the iron chain of her ankle ring while she desperately tried to shut out the soft, splashing noises as Bishop stepped into the tub.
Gods, did she feel ashamed!
How could she have stared at him like that? Just imagine what would have happened if her love had stepped through the door in that very moment, finally coming to her rescue - only to see her there, ogling the man standing before her, naked as the gods had created him…
She gulped and firmly closed her eyes for a moment, desperately trying to banish the images from her mind, of what he had let her see, but found that she could not. To think that only mere moments ago, she had still been wondering whether he had wanted to kiss her or not…
Only to have him suddenly standing there, his arousal clearly visible even in the dim light of the fire, telling her unmistakably that he indeed seemed to have some feelings for her…
Another wave of that icy fear welled down her spine, and Liliana gasped sharply as she momentarily fought against the panic that rose in her chest, trying to gain at least some control on her fear.
He kept away from me, she tried to calm her terribly racing heart, her fear coiling like snakes in her stomach.
No matter what he had wanted from her, he had refrained from going after her. If she kept away from him, if she did not give him any idea at all that she actually wanted this kind of attention, she would be fine.
There was another splashing sound from the tub, followed quickly by the sound of trickling water.
Looks like he has started to wash himself.
She imagined how he would scoop up some water with his hands to wash his hair, and swallowed hard at the image of how the water would slowly trickle down his face, over the sharp line of his jaw, his eyes closed against the soap…
Don't. Don't. Don't.
But she could not get the image out of her mind, of how the light of the flames would lick over his lean body, of the single droplets of water that would be running down his broad back, following the dragon scar...
Stop! Stop this instant!
Barely repressing a groan, Liliana forcefully rubbed her temples in a desperate attempt to keep her mind from wandering that path any further. Merciful gods, where did all these strange feelings come from, she wondered with rapidly growing embarrassment and despair while her heart beat so terribly fast as she fought very hard against the images that threatened to flood her senses. Had she finally lost her mind, after all these days of perpetual terror?
Was that what going mad felt like, starting to long for the man who held her captive here in the woods?
At that thought, it was as if an icy claw scraped slowly down her back, and she gasped at the sudden wave of terror that pulsated through her veins.
No! No way.
This was not longing!
Longing was what she felt for her Cedric, a yearning so gentle that it warmed her heart, strengthening her, genuine and pure. This was more like an illness, a growing sore that slowly poisoned her mind, weakening her senses, dragging her down… and how could it be any different, considering that it was he who made her feel this way?
There was nothing genuine about him, nothing warm or gentle, nothing caring.
Her conscience squirmed uncomfortably at that thought, trying to remind her of the rare moments where he had indeed shown her a different side of his cold, obnoxious self, but she forcefully shoved these images away, not willing to let these memories undermine her determination.
She did not want to take things into consideration. She did not want to be fair. She wanted to blame him for all the misery that he made her feel, for being so ashamed of herself because he could make her confuse things, and that was so much easier when she kept seeing him as the villain, and not… well, someone else.
There was a loud sloshing noise behind her, and she could hear Bishop get up again, obviously finished with his bathing. She listened to the sound of the water trickling back into the tub as he stepped onto the wooden planks, and involuntarily, the image of his body rose from the back of her mind, bringing in its wake the thought of how the light of the flames would now flicker over his tanned skin, of the shimmering droplets of water, flowing over the rim of his shoulder blades and then down to his rear…
Oh no, piped the hysteric voice in her head, alarmed, you are not going to look, understand? He's far away from you, and you will hear him, should he actually come anywhere near you. You are not
Her conscience rattled on, reason literally screaming at her to let it go, but Liliana could not keep herself from lifting her head a little and peaking at him out of the corner of her eye, driven by a sudden urge that she could not really explain, even to herself, making her disregard all thoughts about proper behaviour. For the length of a heartbeat, she watched him standing there, drinking in his sight, and couldn't keep a smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth as she saw him shaking himself like a dog, sending little droplets of water everywhere.
Something cold and wet touched her cheek, startling her out of her reverie, and hastily, she averted her eyes once more, feeling the sudden desire to slap herself as another wave of icy fear and guilt welled through her body, making her shiver.
Sheep. Stupid, stupid sheep.
She was such a bad girl. No wonder the gods had abandoned her, when she was sitting here, staring at another man…
Another naked man, and that willingly!
…while her love was out there somewhere, certainly searching for her, worrying.
That thought sent another sharp pang of guilt through her body, piercing her heart, and she lifted her hand to look at Cedric's ring, forcefully blinking the tears away that suddenly blurred her vision. She watched how the light of the fire illuminated the silver dolphin and the beautifully teardrop-shaped pearl in its snout, and almost cringed at its reproachful velvety shine, reprimanding her silently for her weakness and making her feel like the lowliest creature in all Faerun all over again.
Oh love, I'm so sorry, so very sorry…
"Come here, mousie.", came Bishop's voice from the fireplace, and she looked up, alarmed, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. Had he actually caught her staring? How could she have been so stupid, ogling him without need when she so desperately tried to keep him away from her?
She reluctantly turned her eyes to him, and was relieved to see that he had donned his breeches in the meantime, though her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the blanket that he had spread at his feet, right in front of the chimney.
He must have seen something of that sudden fear in her eyes, for she saw him frown at her reaction, and his voice was calm as he replied, with no hint of its usual sneer, but without that low, irritating purr either.
"Your hair will dry much quicker in front of the fire."
Liliana swallowed nervously, her mind thinking feverishly. What was she about to do? She did not want to go anywhere near him, she really didn't, but if she refused… was he not bound to get angry again? To force her to sit down beside him, no matter what her feelings were on the matter, or simply chain her to the wall again, once more ill-tempered and sullen?
She eyed him warily, trying to gauge his mood, but Bishop wore his impassive mask again, revealing none of his emotions. Now that he had said it, she could feel her wet hair on her back, the heavy curtain soaking the cloth of her dress, and hesitatingly, she got to her feet, slowly approaching him.
She walked up until she finally reached the blanket and then quickly sat down at its utmost edge, hurriedly pulling her knees up against her chest and hugging her legs, so that he would not get any ideas. She was doing this simply to get her hair drying more quickly, and not because she was so keen on his company.
Bishop silently watched her approach, his eyes shimmering in the light of the fire, and then gracefully lay down beside her as soon as she had sat down on the blanket, slowly lifting one hand to reach for her, his eyes never leaving her face.
She flinched a little as she felt his fingers glide through the wet strands of her hair, her heart speeding up noticeably, but he simply kept fanning out her hair, again and again, his eyes fixed on her face, as if drinking in her sight.
The almost intimate tenderness of the gesture made her feel more than a little uncomfortable, and so she quickly averted her face, closing her eyes so that she did not have to look at him, not knowing what to make of the sweet ache that suddenly rose in her chest.
She did not want him to be kind and gentle. Kind and gentle meant that she felt something close to gratitude for him, which was no good for her plan to see him only as the villain, to hate him properly for being such an evil and unscrupulous thug, so that she would not start to confuse things again.
"Sing for me, little mouse.", she heard him murmur softly, and opened her eyes in surprise, her heart giving another gentle squeeze as she saw him still looking up at her, the impassive mask gone and replaced by a warmth that she had never seen in him before. The ghost of a smile played on his lips, smoothing the harsh lines around his mouth, and she quickly closed her eyes again as the squeeze in her heart became almost painful.
Gods, what was happening here?
She drew a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and without thinking, she simply began with the first song that came to her mind, hoping that singing would distract her from the way the light of the flames had reflected in his eyes, and that for a split second, she had truly longed to reach for his face and gently caress his cheek.
Early one morning, just as the sun was rising
I heard a maid sing in the valley below
"Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,
How could you use a poor maiden so?"
Strange that just this song had come to her mind. It was one of her grandfather's favourites, and as she sung, images rose before her eyes, of the long winter evenings that they had spent in the living room of his hunting lodge, reading and singing in front of the fireplace while Selune's light glittered on the snow and icicles that covered the window-sill and trees of the Cloak Wood, and Liliana almost smiled at the memories.
And who would have thought that he would ask her to sing again?
She had been told often that she had a quite lovely voice, and had trained diligently to improve her skill, but, well, he actually did not look like the kind of man who appreciated the fine arts very much, and so she had to admit that she felt happy and even a little proud that Bishop had asked her for another performance.
His hand kept gliding through her hair, fanning the silvery tresses, and for a moment, she almost forgot where she was, and how miserable she felt, for the joy of singing, combined with his gentle touch, send a warmth through her body that thawed her fear and despair, a strange feeling that she had never felt before, something that she could best describe as contentment.
When she finished the last line, she opened her eyes to look at him with a small, genuine smile on her face, but it faltered as soon as she saw the strange look in his eyes.
"What?", she asked quietly, not certain what to make of the haunted look on his face, her stomach churning forebodingly as his hands slowly wandered from her hair to her throat, the feathery touch of his fingertips making her shiver.
"The marks are nearly gone, little mouse.", he answered in a strange hollow voice, his fingers gliding gently over her skin, but at his words, it felt as if thousand little insects were crawling down her back and over her body, piercing her skin with their icy chitin claws, and the last remnants of her contentment evaporated like thin air as she heard the memory of another voice in her head, cold and cruel.
Someone does not seem to like you, mousie. You will have a tragic accident. As soon as the bruises on your throat are healed.
Merciful gods!
She stared at him, wide-eyed, as the horror of realisation finally dawned on her. He was talking about her death! All this time in the hut, she had been so focussed on the here and now that she had completely forgotten why he had brought her here in the first place.
I am paid a royal sum to dispose of you.
Somehow, she had never believed that he would truly do it. It had been too bizarre a thought to take it seriously, that someone had indeed paid him a single coin to get rid of her, but as she looked into his face, she found no malice there, no deceit… only that saddened look in his eyes, and something that, on a more familiar face, she would have read as regret.
Which meant that he was going to do it.
A strange feeling rose in her chest, a terror so icy cold that it froze her limbs and numbed her feelings, leaving her hollow and empty inside, maybe in a last, desperate attempt of her self to save her mind from the horror of her situation, clouding everything in the white mists of disbelief, making the world around her suddenly feel surreal and strangely distant, as if she was walking in a dream.
It was not a pleasant feeling, being left behind as nothing but an empty shell, but a part of her was truly thankful for that emptiness, for it helped her to keep her voice almost steady as she asked him in a quiet voice that she did not recognize as her own.
"How… how are you going to do it?"
"I will throw you down the cliff.", he replied in that same hollow tone, and she saw a strange emotion flicker across his face before she averted her eyes, the crawling on her back increasing a thousandfold as she imagined the icy waters of the Sea of Swords, closing over her head.
"So… I am going to drown.", she whispered, and strangely enough, saying it out loud somehow thawed the numb feeling in her chest, and she could feel tears well up in her eyes as a wave of misery washed over her, weakening the walls that she had erected around her soul, and for the length of a heartbeat, Liliana was truly thankful for still feeling so numb inside, because she knew that the moment the walls around her terror came tumbling down, she would never stop crying again.
She could feel Bishop reach up for her cheek and gently wipe a single tear away, and his voice was surprisingly soft as he spoke.
"If you want me to… I can make it quick, snap your neck before, so you won't feel any pain."
She turned around and looked at him, forcefully blinking the unshed tears away that still blurred her vision, and found him looking up at her, his clear gaze fixed on her, and it was as if she saw him truly for the first time, with all his masks suddenly gone, revealing a man who had long accepted the dark path his life had taken, and who had long learned to erect these walls around his soul, to keep himself as numb and indifferent as she felt inside, but who was still not beyond feeling.
In this instant, she realised that in his own, screwed way, he was truly trying to offer her a kindness, the only thing that he could think of to ease her passing, and felt strangely touched even despite the new wave of misery that welled through her at his words, the knowledge that he at least cared a little miraculously easing her pain.
She remembered how it had felt as he had choked her on that first afternoon in the woods, of the panic that had welled through her as she could not get enough air, and shuddered. No, she really did not want to go through that ever again.
"Yes, please.", she whispered almost inaudibly, still not able to believe that this was truly happening to her. "Thank you."
A part of her was watching with cynical amusement how she could murmur words of gratitude to her murderer when she was actually supposed to scream and shout and fight for her life, but somehow, that eerie numbness was still nagging at her mind, wearing her out and making her feel strangely indifferent, as if this was not really happening to her, but to some bypasser whose life she was watching with mild curiosity through a looking glass.
At some point, Bishop resumed fanning out her hair, but she did not pay it any real attention, her eyes solely fixed on the lively crackling fire, watching the dance of the flames, desperately trying to keep the walls around her soul in place, dreading the moment when her terror would finally catch up with her.
She did not want to spend the rest of her life in fear.
She thought of her Cedric, of the things that she had wanted to do with her life, of the places that she had wanted to see, of all the things that she would not be able to do anymore, and was so wrapped up in her own misery that she only realised that Bishop had taken her by her shoulders and had drawn her down to lay beside him when she felt her head come to rest against his shoulder, her body now stretched out next to him with her hand lying on his chest, the curls of reddish-brown hair feeling surprisingly soft under her fingers.
She could feel his arm close around her shoulder, drawing her against him, and then Bishop quietly resumed stroking her hair, his touch a balm to her weary self. His warmth spread through her body, the delicious heat thawing her limbs, and she snuggled even closer against his chest, taking comfort in the steady beat of his heart, his now familiar scent almost soothing.
It felt so good, lying here by his side. She knew that, in fact, it was completely irrational, but lying here in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, breathing in his scent, she felt safe, almost sheltered, like he was her only haven in a storm. It was absolutely bizarre, considering that he was the very man who was about to kill her, but in this moment, she felt truly grateful that he was offering her this kind of comfort, and that she had been able to find some sort of peace, if only for a while.
She could feel him raise his head a little, and then felt his lips on her skin, pressing a soft kiss on her temple, but strangely enough, it felt as if life was supposed to be this way, with only the two of them lying here in front of the fire, holding each other, and without thinking, she let her hands wander over his chest, enjoying the feel of the soft curls under her fingertips.
Cedric's chest had been bare, with only one tiny little hair here and there, while Bishop's was covered with soft, reddish curls, shadowing his breast and then running in a thin line from his chest to his belly, disappearing into his trews, and Liliana had to admit that she liked the feel of the soft curls under her fingers.
There was something strangely soothing about softly stroking his chest, to feel the tiny curls glide along her skin, and curiously, she let her hand wander over his chest, past the silvery chain of his amulet and following the thin line of hair down to his stomach. Bishop seemed to have wanted to say something to her, for he had began to murmur softly into her ear, but the moment her fingertips brushed over the muscles of his stomach, he stopped in mid sentence, and she could hear him inhale sharply as his muscles contracted under her feathery touch.
"Playing with fire will get you burned, mousie.", he pressed out in a surprisingly breathless voice, and without warning, he suddenly rolled to his side, half-burying her slender form beneath him, and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her fiercely.
The moment his lips touched her mouth, it felt as if a fire had been kindled in her belly, the same searing heat that she had felt when he had licked and kissed her skin a few hours ago, thawing the icy fear that numbed her senses, and out of an impulse, she gave in to that fire, her mouth opening under his while she leaned into his touch, feeling the sudden and almost desperate desire to let that fire take away her fear, to make her feel whole again.
He moaned, deep in his throat, and one hand closed painfully around her neck, drawing her closer, his kiss becoming even more passionate, almost savage in its intensity. She could feel the stubbles on his chin grazing her skin, the sensation of his touch, combined with his heady scent, fanning the heat within her, all the emotions that he was stirring up in her somehow merging in that space between her legs, but one feeling pierced the haze of desire that was quickly clouding her mind, some kind of instinctive panic that helped her regain at least some kind of control over her reactions, making her heart thump painfully in her chest.
This was too much, too fast!
Cedric had been so kind, so gentle, giving her all the time she needed to get used to his attentions, as she had never lain with a man before. The hungry demand that she was feeling in Bishop's kiss had rolled over her like a wave, crushing her defences, and now she was drowning in the sensation, suddenly realising that she was already way too far from the shore.
She felt like she was rushing over the edge of a fathomless pit, going faster and faster with no one to stop her fall, and frightened, she tore her mouth away from his and pushed against his chest, desperately trying to get away from him.
He followed her, his hands grabbing her behind and pulling her back against him, and another deep moan escaped his throat as his mouth closed almost gently around her lobe, his touch making goose bumps rise all over her body.
"No mousie,", he whispered hoarsely, his breathing heavy, and the wild promise that she could suddenly hear in his voice made her shiver uncontrollably, fanning both the heat and the panic within her. "This time, you won't run from me. This time, I won't let you off the hook."
He moaned once more, one hand still pressing her tightly against him while the other wandered over her back and reached for the laces of her corsage, forcefully pulling at the various strings to open her dress.
Merciful gods…
She could feel his mouth on her skin, passionately sucking and biting his way down her throat, and could not keep herself from inhaling sharply as she felt his tongue lick over the tinge of her breasts that was not covered by cloth while his hand was continuously grazing her back, determinately undoing the laces of her bodice.
No… please…
Her whole body was shaking violently now, her chest feeling so terribly tight due to the nameless panic that was still pulsating strongly in her veins, while his caresses fanned the heat within her to such a height that for a moment, she truly feared that she would simply burst into flame, and in a last feeble attempt to push him away, her fingers scrabbled over his chest… and the dolphin of Cedric's ring entangled itself with a soft clacking noise, its snout catching in the silvery chain of Bishop's amulet.
"Wait!", she pleaded, her voice sounding unnaturally high and breathless while a different kind of panic welled through her, "It will break…"
Heedlessly, she reached for her ring with a violently trembling hand, frantically trying to free it from its silvery prison, carelessly ripping at the links. One last forceful pull, and the ring finally came free, accompanied by a soft clicking sound, and Liliana looked down, a wave of relief flooding through her that her ring seemed unmarked…
… and looked at her own face, staring back at her.
She gasped, feeling all her blood run cold in an instant, and for a painfully long moment, she could do nothing but stare at the miniature painting inside the amulet in shock, her hands trembling even more violently at the unexpected sight. Then, as her mind slowly started working again, she noticed the differences.
The woman had the same silvery blonde hair and violet eyes, but the lines of her face were sharper, and she seemed older, at least a couple of years. She wore her hair in an austere plait, something Liliana rarely did, and her posture spoke of an aura of calm and strength that was evident, even in such a small painting.
She stared at the locket with wide eyes, and suddenly, everything fell into place. The way he had looked at her that very first day in the woods, as if he had seen some kind of ghost. The strange expression on his face whenever he was near her, the yearning that she had seen in his eyes…
Forever yours,
Riana.
It had all been for her.
Whenever he had shown her a kindness, whenever he had looked at her with that burning in his eyes, whenever he had touched her… it had all been for her.
She kept staring at the locket, simply not able to turn her eyes away from that woman's face…
… his lover's face…
… and felt her stomach churn violently at that thought, her heart becoming so heavy all of a sudden as if it was made of lead.
How could this be?
… but… I thought he cared…
A sudden ache ripped through her heart, a pain so intense that it startled her out of her shell-shocked state, and it felt as if a bucket of ice water had suddenly been emptied over her head, now streaming down her back in waves, as the meaning of her actions slowly sank in.
What have I done?
To think that she… and him…
She had let him hold her. Had snuggled against his chest, stroking his skin, truly enjoying the feeling of having him near, feeling so safe in his embrace… only to finally give in to his kiss, a part of her even craving his touch, while her Cedric…
Oh merciful gods, what have I done?
Shame rippled through her, an icy wave of self-loathing and despair that she had never experienced before, and for the length of a heartbeat, she truly feared to be sick as the realisation finally dawned on her, the shame and surprising amount of hurt that she was feeling almost tearing her apart.
Gods, what a sheep she had been!
To think that, for a moment, he had truly tricked her into believing that he cared about her, that she meant something to him, that her touch meant something to him…
When all his soft whispers and moans and passionate kisses had in fact been for that woman whose miniature he wore around his neck, the woman she resembled so much that it made her feel sick. Another wave of that loathing despair ripped through her, choking her, and her chest constricted painfully under the heavy weight of her shame.
To think that she had almost given in, that she had almost betrayed her Cedric's trust in her… when all his crooked smiles and small kisses and 'little mouse's had never been for her.
Most likely she has been his little mouse long before, she thought bitterly, and was shocked at the hurt that suddenly ripped through her, tearing at her heart with sharp claws.
She felt a hand graze her neck, and looked up, only to see Bishop staring down at her, his chest heaving heavily with his quick, shallow breath. His eyes were alight with desire, the yearning in them searing her skin, but at the sight of that almost feral hunger that showed on his face, Liliana felt something snap inside her, and a maelstrom of anger rose in her chest, black and suffocating.
Forcefully, she pushed against his chest with all her strength, shoving him back, and felt a strange kind of satisfaction at the confused look that flickered across his face as she twisted and turned beneath him to scramble back to her feet, her hurt and anger now coiling like snakes in her belly, wrapping themselves around her in knots so tight that it made it actually hard to breathe.
She stared down at him, into his eyes, that cursed locket still dangling in front of his chest, and felt the sudden desire to scream at him, to punch every inch of him that she could reach with her fists, simply to vent some of her anger and frustration… but she would not let him see.
She was stronger than that.
She would show him that she was more than just some plaything, would not let him get the idea that he had meant something to her!
Which he did not.
Whatever spell he had cast upon her, it was gone, and as she stared down at him now, she felt something close to disgust at the thought of his lips on her skin, unable to understand how she could have let her instincts get the better part of her, if only for an instant.
"Get your filthy hands off me!", she hissed, her sudden anger miraculously steadying her voice. "Did you really think that I would welcome your touch, when I have a man like Cedric by my side?"
Her heart gave another unexpected pang at these words, and she balled her hands to fist, her nails digging deep into her flesh to keep herself from suddenly bursting into tears as the emotional turmoil within her became almost unbearable.
To think that she had almost betrayed her love for such cheap pleasures…
Do not let him see. Do not let him see how ashamed you are, what he did to you.
At the mention of Cedric's name, a strange emotion flickered across Bishop's face, his shoulders tensing almost imperceptibly in the dim light of the fire, and Liliana knew she had hit a nerve.
"He's a fine man,", she went on, her voice now as icy and disdainful as she could make it, driven by the overwhelming desire to hurt him back in every way that she could think of for making her feel this miserable again, for first luring her in and then playing her for such a fool, "noble and honourable, while you are… you are nothing but a common thug, crawling around in the dirt, not worthy to hold a candle to him. You are disgusting. You are scum!"
He simply watched her, listening to her angry tirade without saying a single word, but at the end of her little speech, Liliana could see the fire die in his eyes, replaced momentarily by that cold, unfeeling look that she knew so very well, and suddenly, she could not bear it anymore.
With a sob, she whirled around and hastily stumbled back to her blankets, letting herself fall to the floor and pulling her knees up to her chest, tightly hugging her legs while she kept her back to him, forcefully trying to blink the tears away that already blurred her vision as her anger finally evaporated into thin air, leaving only the hurt and despair behind.
Do not let him see, she pleaded desperately as she shut her eyes for a moment, another sob escaping her throat. Please, do not let him see…
She heard Bishop get to his feet, his steps quick and angry, and couldn't suppress a yelp as she felt his foot forcefully connect with her shoulder, shoving her face-down onto the floor. His hand closed painfully around her ankle, and she barely held back another pained moan as he pulled her roughly towards him, closing the iron ring around her foot.
The soft, rattling sound of the lock pierced her like a thousand needles in her heart, and Liliana's blood ran cold with fear as she half-turned and saw Bishop crouching before her, murder in his eyes.
"I may be scum, princess", he snarled, his face livid, and her heart gave another frightened pang at the malicious undercurrent of his voice, "but you're nothing but fish bait, and you'd do good to remember that. Maybe you'll feel different about my filthy touch when that ridiculous dress is pulling you under the water!"
His hand went to her hair, grabbing it roughly, and she flinched as he pulled her head back to make her look up at him, her eyes watering from the pain. "By the way, you could have easily escaped that day, if you had run in the other direction", he hissed cruelly into her ear before he finally shoved her away, his motion so forcefully that she banged with her back hard against the wall.
He grabbed the blankets and got to his feet again, sneering down into her face, and the murderous look in his eyes made her cringe. "Let that thought keep you warm tonight."
She watched with large eyes how he stomped over to his bedroll, terrified to notice the walls around her soul crumbling bit by bit as wave after wave of that icy terror welled through her, tearing at her heart, turning every breath into a painful effort, and with a sob, she pulled her legs tightly against her chest, pressing her face against her arms so that he would not be able to see the tears that now streamed down her face as the horror of the moment finally caught up with her.
To think that she could have escaped this nightmare, that she could have been saved all along… if she had only paid a little more attention to the paths that she had chosen, if she had at least tried to remember the things that Marisana had told her about finding her way in the wilds…
I don't want to die!
That thought made her sob again, and quickly, she bit hard on her lower lip, the sharp pain helping her to hold the freshly risen tears at bay that threatened to stream down her face as well. Whatever qualms he might have had about killing her, they seemed to have been thoroughly erased by her little speech, and Liliana dug her nails deep into her flesh to keep herself from succumbing to the fear that rippled through her, her body trembling so violently now that it ached.
Please…
She heard him get to his feet again, and looked up, alarmed, but felt a measure of relief as she saw him stomp over to the fireplace and grab a log from the pile of firewood, reaching for his dagger and hacking away at the wood with abandon, still looking livid.
She watched how he worked silently on the wood, his motions stiff and angry, and felt a different kind of pain mingle strongly with her fear, its intensity startling her even in her panicked state of mind.
Please… I did not mean it… don't be angry with me…
Suddenly, she saw him jump to his feet, his quick movements catching her by surprise, and with a yell that made the blood in her veins run cold, he hurled the piece of wood into the corner, staring after it with burning eyes, his breathing heavy and his hands balling into fists, his sudden anger rolling off him in waves.
Everything about his posture screamed violence, and terrified, Liliana tried very hard to melt into the wall at her back, to become truly invisible, so that he would not be tempted to vent his frustration on her.
He whirled around, and there was one painstaking second where she truly feared that all her efforts had been in vain, and that he would simply march over to her and beat her to death, driven by his sudden rage… but Bishop just stormed past her and out of the hut, the cold evening air drifting through the open door, and felt a strange relief squeeze her heart as she saw that the sun had already set in the West, the light now fading quickly between the trees.
He won't kill me as long as it's dark, she thought incoherently as that kind of panicked relief welled through her, battling her fear, it's too risky, taking the way to the cliffs in that twilight…
A shadow appeared in the doorway, and Bishop re-entered the hut, carrying two bottles of that berry liquor in his arms, and Liliana's stomach churned forebodingly as she noticed the opened and already half-emptied bottle that he was carrying in his right hand.
What was he up to?
Without sparing her as much as a glance, Bishop marched over to his bedroll and sat down again, his back against the wall, and lifted the bottle to his mouth, drinking deeply.
Her eyes widened as she watched the rapid movements of his throat, how he drank more and more of that burning liquid as if it was mere water, and felt confusion mingling strongly with her fear as he finally lowered the bottle and closed his eyes, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.
His sight reminded her forcefully of the things that he had yet in store for her, and she closed her eyes as another wave of that icy terror rippled through her, her mind racing as she searched feverishly for something that she could say or do to keep him from going through with his plan, from ending her life…
But after a while, she had to admit painfully to herself that she had no gold or jewels at hand to change his mind, that there was nothing she could offer…
But what if…
He would not hesitate to kill her, of that she was certain, especially after all the things she had said to him in front of the fire… but he would never hurt his love, now would he?
Think, Lily, think!
He was drinking. The liquor was strong, and soon, he would be really drunk, and not able to think clearly anymore. If she waited for the right time, and then pretended to be Riana, returning to him after her fight against the King of Shadows…
It should be enough to lure him to her.
You are mad, screamed the hysteric voice in her head, panic edged clearly into every single word, you know nothing about that Knight-Captain of Neverwinter, except for her name, and that she was some kind of cleric. What do you think he will do to you, should he ever realise that you are trying to trick him, pretending to be her?
The thought of what he would do to her, should her little trick actually fail, sent even more violent shivers down her spine, but she fought against the sudden fear that spread from an icy lump deep within her stomach, trying to gather her senses.
I have to try it. If I do nothing, he will kill me!
Another desperate sob rose in her chest, but she fought it down, determined to hold on and not to just sit here in pain and despair, waiting for her end. After what she had overheard from Bessy, one of her family's chamber maids whose husband was a real drunk, he would soon fall asleep, anyway, and if he did… she could fetch the key from around his neck, opening the ring around her ankle, and run.
Who knows, maybe she was lucky, and he would sleep long into the next morning, giving her some kind of a head start to try that other direction he had mentioned, trying to get as much distance between them as possible, maybe meeting some travellers on her way who would help her to escape his grasp.
Maybe even her own family…
At that thought, a yearning welled through her body, a whirlwind of warmth and longing and panicked joy that she had never experienced before, and hastily, she rubbed her tears away as the trembling spark of hope had finally been rekindled in her chest.
She would be strong. She would do it. She would escape this nightmare and return to her home, and her love.
The only question was – when was the right time to try and lure him in?
So Liliana sat there and watched nervously how Bishop methodically drank his way through the first bottle, and felt a different kind of panic well through her as she saw him clumsily putting the liquor aside for a moment to grope wildly around the floor with his hands till he finally fetched his tunic from the lopsided chair, his movements already sluggish as he tried to pull the piece of cloth over his head.
Her heart gave a strange ache as she watched him fighting with his garment, feeling surprisingly heavy all of a sudden, but she shoved the notion away as she forcefully tried to keep her wits about her, her thoughts racing in her mind like a bunch of panicked mice.
The liquor seemed to be much stronger than she had thought. What if he fell asleep now, on his side of the hut? He surely looked drunk enough, and if he did, she would never be able to reach the key, and when he finally woke up in the morning…
No!
That unwelcome trail of thought made her shiver uncontrollably again, and after another glance at the almost emptied bottle, she decided that it was time to lay her fate in the hands of the gods and simply try her luck.
So she drew one last, shaking breath, trying to steel herself, and after a quick prayer to every deity that she could think of who might be sympathetic to her cause, she carefully cleared her throat and addressed the man before her in a quiet voice, her words carrying surprisingly far nonetheless.
"Bishop!"
At first, she thought he had not heard her. He had lifted his head a little as she had whispered his name, but had simply focussed his attention on the liquor bottle in his hands again, taking another deep swig and then frowning slightly as he realised that the bottle was already empty.
"Bishop... come here!", she whispered once again, more urgently this time. "Come to me..."
He shook his head, not looking up this time, and another wave of that icy panic welled through her, clawing at her heart. What if her plan did not work? What if he was too drunk already to understand what she was saying, if he wouldn't be able to move at all?
At that thought, she saw the bottle slip out of his clumsy grasp and fall onto the wooden planks, and Liliana tensed, half-expecting it to break into thousand splinters, but the bottle simply made a dull, subdued sound and rolled swiftly over the planks towards the door, out of Bishop's reach.
His eyes narrowed in confusion as he stared at his now empty hand, obviously trying to understand what had happened to the bottle all of a sudden, and the strange ache in her heart intensified as she watched him groping around once more, knowing that her time was running short.
A part of her had still hoped that she would not have to do it, that he would simply come to her when he heard her voice, but now, it was more than obvious that he would never come, even if she insisted. So she took another deep breath, her heart beating like mad all of a sudden, and addressed him urgently for the third time, her voice shaking a bit as the Knight-Captain's name came over her lips.
"Come to me, Bishop... it's me, it's Riana..."
His head snapped up at these words, and there was a strange light in his eyes as he looked vaguely in her direction from across the room, his voice barely more than a croaked whisper as he spoke.
"Riana...?"
