Chantal knelt by the brook, smiling as she watched Casavir and Neeshka. They looked so happy together...
And for the first time in many months, her heart went heavy watching them.
She was happy for them. She really was. She hoped they would live a long and blissful life together.
But it made her feel like something was missing in her own life.
If only someone would look at me the way Casavir is looking at Neeshka right now...
As if she was the only thing that mattered in the world.
I've been living alone for too long.
Involuntarily, her head turned, her eyes seeking for the ranger standing behind them. Only he wasn't. Standing behind them.
Where is he?
She got up and went some steps back, to the place she had seen him last, looking around searchingly. Still she could see no trace of him. There it was again, the uneasy feeling in her stomach, the same feeling she had experienced when Bishop made his last disappearing act, so long ago.
Don't be stupid. Maybe he just felt nature call. He'll be back.
If only she could believe it. She remembered the strange mood he had been in the whole day. Not angry, apparently, just... distant, withdrawn. Refusing to talk, or even to look at her. And somehow, she thought she sensed sadness in him. Something definitely had been off.
He was gone. She just knew it.
What surprised her was the sharp pain she felt at the thought. It felt like a dagger piercing her heart. And her stomach seemed to have contracted into one tight, heavy, aching ball. And there was a sting in her eyes...
Stupid bitch! Be glad you got rid of him so easily!
Yes! Very true. She should be glad. And she was. Or... would be. In a moment. When the tears threatening to well up had been forced back.
She heard steps behind her, inhaled deeply and forced something on her face she hoped was composure.
"Where's the ranger?", Casavir's deep voice came from behind her.
Chantal kept her back to him. Better not to let him see her face. "Don't know", she just said, proud that she had managed two words in a steady voice.
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
She shrugged, her back still to him. "I mean he's just not here."
"You think he's... gone?" The hopeful tone in Casavir's voice made her want to slap him.
Relax, it's not his fault. Besides, he's right.
Then why does this hurt so much?
Because you're stupid, that's why.
She could not argue with that.
She just shrugged. Casavir's hands went on her shoulders.
"If he's gone, then that's for the best", he said softly, obviously feeling her distress, even as she kept her face from him. Or maybe because she kept her face from him.
She leaned back, into his broad chest, laying back her head at his shoulder, closing her eyes, and sighed.
"I know. Let's hope he won't be back, so we won't have to worry about him anymore. He's served his purpose."
Her eyes still closed, Chantal heard Neeshka's light steps catching up to them. "Where's Mr. Dagger-Happy?", the tiefling piped.
Despite the pain in her heart, Chantal had to smile. She detached herself from Casavir and said: "Not around, luckily for you, or he might try his dagger on you for that remark."
"Ha!", Neeska replied. "He could try! But where is he?"
Chantal shrugged again, the short moment of amusement gone. "Let's camp here, it's afternoon and we won't go much farther anyway. And at least there's water here. We'll see if he comes back. If not, all the better."
Sure.
xxx
Maybe an hour later, Chantal walked a short way along the brook, looking for a good place to take a bath – or at least wash. She felt so dirty, and probably there still was soot in her hair.
That made her think of the moment, sitting with Bishop at the cold fireplace, and the way he had looked at her. The fire in his eyes...
Stop it, stupid. He's gone. And that's good.
Yes, yes, it sure was. But still... that fire, hot enough to burn her... igniting an answering fire, no less hot, in her belly...
Stop it and take a cold bath. Gods know you need one. For more reason than one!
She sighed, looking at the brook, forming a small pool here in a bend. She probably would not find a better place. This time, she very carefully looked around before she started undressing, but could not detect anyone. Neeshka had offered to accompany her, in case Bishop was lurking somewhere near, but Chantal had declined. She wanted some alone time. And the last thing she needed right now was Neeshka, starting to compare manly assets.
But no one was in sight. She did not know if she felt relieved or disappointed. Both, if she was honest with herself. Still, that she could not detect anyone did not mean Bishop was not around. She would not see him if he did not want her to. The thought that he might be watching made her heart beat faster as she started to pull her chain shirt over her head.
Gods, you don't learn, do you?
Yes, I do! And I'm glad he's gone, alright?
But she had to admit that the thought lacked a certain amount of conviction.
She stepped into the water, shivering a bit at the cold, and settled down. Sitting, it came up to her waist. She leaned back, dipping her head under the water, enjoying the cool after she got used to it, trying to rinse away the dirt of the last few days.
And which kind of dirt are we thinking of?
Oh, leave me be! The conventional kind!
And she realised it was true. Thinking of the moment in the alley, of what she had done with Bishop, did not feel dirty anymore. Instead, she felt... longing.
His mouth on hers, his hands on her skin, his desperate moans...
Stop that!
His scent, the feel of his smooth skin under her hands, of his wiry, well muscled body against hers...
Sitting up with a yell of frustration, she resolutely started scrubbing her skin.
xxx
Bishop swiftly made his way through the trees, careful not to leave a trail behind.
Not that any of them could follow the trail of a herd of stampeding cattle.
Not that any of them would want to follow him.
The thought hurt. Why did it hurt? Since when did he care what others thought of him? He did not like the feeling at all. Hurt and him just did not go together. Hurt for others, plenty. But not for him. Never for him.
How did she do it? How did she break through his shell so easily? He hated her for it. She was the only one who could just duck under all his defences and go right for his throat.
Luckily you got away in time.
Oh yes. Very, very lucky. And he would not go back this time. This time, he would leave for good. For his own good. Calimshan really did sound just far away enough.
Hmmm... they are supposed to have beautiful women down there.
He imagined voluptuous bodies, long, dark hair, liquid black eyes, full red lips and smirked. Oh yes, definitely the place for him. And no one knew him down there. He would not be hunted anymore. Not by Luskan, not by Neverwinter. A fresh start. With no enemies.
Well, at least at first. Knowing himself, that state would not last – he was really good at making enemies.
Makes life more interesting.
It sure did. And around here, his life had gotten a bit more interesting than what was healthy. So he would be off. Good riddance to them all. The blustery paladin, the annoying demon girl, and the icy bitch from hell. He was glad he never would have to see any of them again.
Sure.
xxx
Later, he sat by a small fire, gnawing on the last bits of the rabbit he had caught. It was nice to be on his own again, out in the woods, just him and nature. No constant bickering, no snide remarks, and most of all, no haughty commands from the Captain. Oh yes, this was so much better. It was the way he had chosen to live his life. Relying on his own strength, living off his wits and cunning, nobody's servant, nobody's fool. Taking orders from no one. Going where he wanted. Doing what pleased him. Freedom.
Yes, freedom. At last. It was what he wanted.
So why did he feel less than happy? The heaviness did not want to leave his chest. There was an ache in his heart that just did not go away. He felt like he was missing something. Incomplete.
Alone.
You kidding me? I like alone. Alone is what I do
He was always alone! Even when he was with others, he was alone. It was how he chose to be. It was how he wanted to be. No one to grate on his nerves. No one to weigh him down. No one to get into his way.
No one to make me weak.
Just him. Alone.
Lonely.
What? I don't even know the meaning of that word!
Lonely! Ridiculous. Only someone who wanted company could be lonely. And he certainly did not want company. He threw the last rabbit bone into the fire and laid down on his blankets, staring up into the night sky, some stars twinkling between the leaves of the trees.
He forced his mind back to the enticing vision of Calimshan women. Supple. Soft. Cute and slender. Small. Not tall and strong. Small and cute. So much better. He closed his eyes, imagining his hands running over a lithe, dark skinned body, through long dark hair. Imagined kissing full soft lips, imagined the excited moans when he pressed the woman near, imagined her hands on him, digging into his back, urging him to go on, imagined the desire in pale blue eyes...
He let out a howl when he realised the woman had turned into her in his mind and sat up, clutching his hair in frustration. This could not be! How? Why?
Make it stop!
Make her go away!
But it was no use. He could still smell her, taste her, feel her. Her mouth on his, her moans, her scent, her hands on his body, the heat radiating off her, the way she pressed against him, how he had wanted her...
Still wanted her. His breath had gone short with the images, and his breeches had grown uncomfortably tight. And he felt a burning in his body, so strong it hurt.
With a groan of despair, he got up, grabbed his weapons, and ran into the night, back the way he had come.