(Author's note: This is Cari's reaction to Ember, and upon seeing the destruction, her reaction to her accusation. This is a bit of a heavier chapter than usual, angst-wise, but you get a good look into both Cari's character and her current relationship with Bishop. Enjoy!!!)

"It's… it's…" Shandra stammered.

"It's destroyed," Casavir said quietly.

Cari took a slow step forward, a dismayed look on her face as she gazed upon the remains that were once the town of Ember.

"How could they even think I would do such a thing," she breathed. "This was, was-"

"A massacre," Bishop finished, coming to stand beside her. "Come on."

He led the way through the ruins, Cari beside him, her companions falling behind. Cari's blood turned to ice in her veins as she realized the full extent of the slaughter. The buildings were burned to the ground; Cari looked into soot-covered windows to see the charred bodies of families huddled together, parents clutching children, attempting to shield them from the blaze. Horrified tears welled in her eyes as she noticed the doors had been barred from the outside, trapping the families within.

She felt as though she would be sick as she saw the mangled bodies haphazardly strewn about, left as if nobody cared about their burial rights. Everything was dead: children, the elderly, even the livestock. Some bodies bore the marks of struggle before they were cut down; one man's knuckles were bloodied, as if he had driven them into steel armor. Cari noticed the way Bishop absentmindedly rubbed the tattoo on his neck the longer they walked.

"Are you all right?" she inquired softly.

"What? I'm fine," he said dismissively, his hand falling to his side. "How are you faring?"

"Could be better. To think that some say I am capable of such a horrible, despicable act… who commits acts like these? Who destroys entire villages? I mean, murder is one thing, and I would be a bloody hypocrite if I denounced murder, but to destroy the entire village?"

"It takes a different type of person to do something like this, Cari," Bishop murmured, his words icy. "A real special person."

"I suppose. Come on, let's keep moving."

Cari started to feel ill as they spotted the body of a young woman, who had nearly managed to escape the slaughter.

"Some coward shot her down as she ran," Casavir said bitterly. "She scarcely looks twenty."

"She's not that much younger than I am Cas," Cari moaned, feeling dizzy. "Whoever did this… by the Gods, I'll kill them. This is just too much. I thought that the old man was bad, his head was nearly clean off his shoulders, but this-this is just-"

"I know, Cari, I know," Casavir murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick hug. "We can talk later if you want, if you need it."

Cari smiled. "Thanks, Cas."

When they happened upon the mangled corpse of an elderly woman, surrounded by the bodies of her slaughtered cats, Cari had to excuse herself as she felt her muscles clench, a horrid feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Hells, no, please, she looked so much like Retta, no-

Oh, Hells-

Tears burned in Cari's eyes as she hunched over, Bishop and Casavir running to her side as they heard her vomit. Her body trembled as they eased her to her feet, carefully avoiding the puddle of sick.

"I'm sorry, Sand," she choked, her normally rosy complexion now ashen, sallow, "I can't do this all in one day; we need to set up camp somewhere so I can lie down."

"Of course, my dear girl," Sand said kindly, "I can't have my client sick now, can I?"

A couple of hours later, Cari sat by herself, away from the main camp, oiling her leathers, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She seethed as tears of fury and embarrassment streaked her cheeks.

How could anyone have thought me responsible for such a horrid act? I know I have a less-than-admirable past, but to think me to blame for that, that butchery?

And then, of course, I had to get sick. In front of everyone. Their big, strong, fearless leader sick over… well, it was pretty horrific, but nobody else retched.

But I had to do it in front of Bishop, of all people. He must think me a bloody fool.

She jumped as Casavir sat down beside her, holding a plate with a strip of roasted venison upon it, his expression kind. She pushed her leathers aside.

"You need to eat, Cari," he urged, handing her the plate, "You need to keep your strength up."

"Who cooked it?"

"Bishop."

Cari smiled weakly and shrugged off her blanket, putting the plate on her lap. "I'll eat it then."

"What? You wouldn't have eaten it had I cooked it?"

"Of course I would have, it was Shandra I was worried about," Cari said quietly, taking a small bite, "Sweet girl, can't use seasoning to save her life. A little garlic and salt can go a long way."

"Well, at least you still have your sense of humor," Casavir grinned. "Cari, how are you holding up?"

She snorted. "Well, let's see: I wasn't exactly in the best shape as we got there, and then I retched on the ground. I could be doing better, Cas."

"How so?"

"I just, it infuriates me to know that I have been accused of such a horrific crime," Cari said bitterly, furious tears forming yet again, "I mean, yes, I'm a murderer, but even I have limits."

"What do you mean?" Casavir prompted gently.

"I mean," Cari shouted, rising to her feet, her rage and frustration spilling over, "I mean that I have rules, Casavir. I have rules for myself! And I follow them diligently! And-everything in Ember was dead!" she said angrily, weakly sinking to her knees, burying her head in her hands, "Families burned in their homes, children cut down, the elderly slaughtered, that's, that's, there's no word for how horrible that is! I don't do that! And to think that I've been accused of doing it, it's-"

Cari gasped as she was pulled into an awkward embrace, a familiar, soothing scent filling her senses. She smiled, grateful for the comfort, her breaths sharp and ragged.

"Thanks, Cas," she whispered, resting her head on his chest.

"Err, try again, Cari."

She looked up and jumped; surprised to see Bishop looking down at her, a slightly uncomfortable smile on his face as he gently stroked her hair.

Well, I was not expecting that.

"Wait, where did you come from?" Cari asked, surprised. "How much did you hear?"

"I was coming over to see if you needed some water," he said quietly, gesturing to the flask now resting against his thigh. "And I noticed you were on your knees, and I couldn't let a good opportunity pass me by."

"Savor it, it doesn't happen often," she grinned.

"Tyr, please, grant me strength," Casavir groaned, disgusted. "I think I'll just leave you two alone now. Good night."

Cari watched as he disappeared into the trees, carrying her empty plate. Her heart raced against her chest as she realized she was alone with Bishop, truly alone with him for the first time since their night in the Flagon, everyone else yards away by the campfire, which flickered dimly through the thick trees.

It's not for lack of trying; she thought to herself, it's just that every time we think we're alone we get interrupted. I swear, if it happens again I might kill Grobnar…

Unless Bishop didn't enjoy himself with me, she thought, mildly panicked, no, he had to have done so; I've never known a man to yell like that in bed…

Well, it's not like we talked about it, I mean, he could at least show me he wants me, it would make things easier…

As if he'd read her mind, Bishop pulled away, desire blazing in his eyes as he reached up to caress her cheek, brushing his lips over her skin. "Why are you so upset over this, Cari?"

Oh, Cyric, thank you, that's all I needed.

"It's just, everyone makes these judgments about me," she spat angrily, relaxing into his embrace, "Men see me walking down the street in my plainclothes and I get offers for a tumble. Women see me walking down the street in my plainclothes and I get scathing, contemptuous looks-"

"Perhaps they're just jealous," Bishop whispered, smirking slightly as he fingered the neckline of her tunic, untying the leather laces, his heart racing as he felt the warmth of her skin.

"Sure," Cari said sourly, moaning softly as the fabric parted, his hand sliding under her smallclothes to caress her breast, "That's it. Then there are whole families who see me walking down the street in my armor and they cross to the other side to avoid me. And I like kids! People see my appearance and make snap assumptions about my character, like I'm going to kill them if they come to close to me. It infuriates me!"

Say something to her, his conscience snapped, you know you've been in her situation before.

How so?

Does everyone you meet judging you by your appearance and your brand strike you as familiar? If that does not ring true, what about automatically being judged by your past?

Huh, I suppose that's right.

"Believe me, Cari, I empathize more than you know," he murmured, leaning in to capture her lips, his thumb gently rubbing the hard nub between his fingers.

"How so?" she whispered breathlessly, his kiss exhilarating, his touch igniting a fire in her skin.

"Everyone sees this tattoo on my neck and assumes the worst," he said softly, his free hand running up and down her back, "I have rules too, they match yours: no children, no families, no crippled, and no aged. Yet people think me this murderous brute. Women rarely see me as more than a good time, as some mindless body put on this plane for their physical pleasure."

Oh, bloody hell, Bishop's opening up to me, Cari thought, mildly bewildered, I didn't see that coming.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I just did.

He really does have that in common with me, I know how it feels to be seen as just some body to be used and tossed aside like some old pair of boots, she thought bitterly.

Well, I don't see Bishop as just a body, that's for damn sure.

"There's obviously more to you than that, Bishop," Cari smiled, trembling slightly as his hand slipped under the back of her tunic. "I never saw you that way."

Oh, Hells, just like every other woman, Bishop thought, I knew she'd see me as a bed-

Wait, what?

"What did you say, Cari?"

"I said I never saw you that way. I saw an interesting man who just happened to be handsome as well. And good in bed. I never saw you as only a good time," she said seductively, trailing her fingers down his chest.

Well, that was, was-

Unexpected. By the Hells, she's the first woman to actually say that to me.

Huh.

"Are you all right?" Cari inquired. "You seem to be drifting away on me."

"Just thinking," Bishop breathed, carefully easing her back onto her bedroll, "We do have a lot in common, don't we?"

Cari bit her lip as he leaned in, blazing a trail of heat up to her ear, gasping as he bit her neck, soothing the dull ache with a kiss.

"Yeah, Bishop, we do."

She groaned as he moved downwards, gently nibbling on the tender skin of her neck. "And here I was thinking that you weren't the type to bed a woman twice in a row."

Bishop chuckled as he sat back and pulled his tunic over his head; a moan escaping his lips as Cari gently traced the scars on his chest. "Well now, if you're complaining about it, I'm sure I can find something else to do."

"Who said I was complaining? I was merely curious," she teased, tugging on the waistband of his trousers as he stripped off her tunic, smiling as she tangled her fingers in the dark hair that covered his stomach.

"As am I, Carianna," he breathed, pulling off her smallclothes and drinking in the way the moonlight illuminated her pale body, "I am especially curious as to how you ended up with those piercings."

"Hmm," she purred, smiling as he wriggled out of his trousers, tossing them aside and raising his eyebrows as her hands slid up his powerful chest muscles, "I think that's a story for another time. Maybe you can explain your other tattoos then as well."

"As long as you do the same, it's rare I meet a woman wearing as many tattoos as you have," Bishop smirked as he leaned forward, resting on his forearms, his honey-brown eyes smoldering in the darkness. "I look forward to it."