A/N: I'm noticing that, for some reason, it goes back and forth between "ridiculous" and more serious… Case in point, this one is a bit more serious, but the next one's odd again. Anyhow, enjoy! And thanks for reviewing!

Chapter Three: Self-Confessions

Casavir, large bag slung over his shoulder, walked up the path to Crossroad Keep, completely exhausted and more than a little dirty. He wryly acknowledged to himself that at least for today he would be free of any complaints of his shiny platemail blinding anyone.

He was saluted by the guards as he walked through the courtyard, and he nodded to them. He had an interesting relationship with Crossroad Keep's Graycloaks – they respected him for his battle prowess and his ability to calm those in charge, but yet he knew full well the men snidely regarded him as Raelis' whipped patsy boy, as a man completely enamored with a woman who would rather be with the human incarnation of an angry, evil rodent.

Casavir often wondered how it had come to this.

The throne room of Crossroad Keep was a place of hustle as Kana had Raelis' upper arm and was physically dragging the priestess in. Katriona, from her place in the corner, looked amused.

"I have a special mission assignment for the Graycloaks," Kana informed her, her tone all business, "We have been having problems with the undead to the south-"

"You can let go of my arm now."

"And you'll just run away again." But she let go. "I was thinking-"

"CASAVIR!" Raelis cried in joy, running away from Kana and tackling Casavir in a hug. He was used to it by now; Raelis had an amazing ability to challenge his comfort levels without prompting any ire on his part. In fact, he rubbed her hair, as he always did. "Oh, Casavir, welcome back! Aaaaaaaaand…"

He handed her his bounty. She looked in it and emitted a squeal so loud and joyful that those who hadn't heard it before – Katriona and Kana – had to cover their ears. Casavir had been there when she had been told she was Knight Captain, when she had met Karnwyr, when she had beaten Lorne by herself and to her surprise, and when she had cajoled Casavir into being the last member of the Spice Girls (they needed a Sporty Spice). With a chant of "pickles," Raelis skipped back to her room.

Kana looked at Casavir coldly. "You will pay for that."

Casavir sighed.

She walked up and handed Casavir another sack. "This is the Knight Captain's personal mail. You will go through it and sort it."

"Aye milady," he voiced lamely.

Bishop had a list of things he had painfully yet silently admitted to himself and that he would never, ever admit aloud.

1. He wasn't gay, but he would be for the lead singer of REO Speedwagon;

2. He was really a cat person;

3. All he really wanted to do was be a druid, and he initially wanted to "romance" Elanee, not Raelis;

4. That being said, he was hopelessly in love with Raelis Farlong;

5. He thought his stubble made him look sexy but it itched like hell sometimes;

6. He was terrified to death of clowns;

7. He was a better soufflé chef than he was an archer;

8. He had stolen the idea for bringing back 'your mom' jokes from some drunkard in the tavern in Port Llast;

9. He just loved snuggling, be it with priestesses of Lathander, a usually unwilling wolf, or just a pillow;

And now

10. Daeghun Farlong was a much, much better ranger than he was.

Case in point, he had officially given up trying to outrun or outmaneuver the elf. As a result, he and his prospective father-in-law were forced into an uncomfortable silence as they made camp. Bishop's stomach was growling because he refused to eat the game that Daeghun caught, in fear of it being poisoned somehow. No matter how many times Bishop glared at him, made derisive snorts or outright growled at him, Daeghun continued to remain undaunted.

Silently Bishop started to wonder when the moralizing would start, or at least when Daeghun would establish why he was here. But Daeghun was a man of fewer words than Bishop, and the latter was to be disappointed by the former's lack of explanation.

But Daeghun had explained his intentions to someone else…

Casavir gave another sigh and rubbed his temple as he stared at yet another letter. He had made three stacks that were roughly up to his head from the desk – one stack for fan mail, one stack from the Temple of Lathander in Neverwinter wanting her to join them, and one stack from Lord Nasher or his representatives.

And then there was this new one that, as Casavir read it again, didn't fit into any of those categories.

Raelis,

I've located your runaway mate, but as I have no desire to chase him again should he run away if I brought him back, I will give him 12 days to return to you of his own volition. On the twelfth day, I will kill him. I suggest that you begin searching for a suitable replacement father for my grandson. On behalf of the fetus, might I suggest you avoid the gnome?

Daeghun

He could easily discard the letter, and Raelis would never know what had happened to her father and the father of her child. She could move on with her life, and when Daeghun inevitably returned, she would never have to look at her foster-father as a murderer. She also wouldn't embark into the wilderness herself in an effort to locate the two, which Casavir had to silently admit was more of the point. On the other hand, he wasn't in the right to get rid of someone else's letter, no matter the contents. Just because he happened to think that Bishop would be improved with dozens of arrows shoved through his torso (although actually he'd be even better with Casavir's sword shoved through his forehead with the divine might of Tyr behind it, but that was beside the point) didn't mean that Casavir would be morally justified in discarding the letter and crossing his fingers that Bishop didn't have a change of heart.

This left Casavir in a very interesting position.

Karnwyr walked back to camp, carrying a rabbit in his jaws. Relief flooded over Bishop, and he silently thanked the wolf; not that he thought Karnwyr was above poisoning him too, but the lack of opposable thumbs made the task much more difficult for Karnwyr than for Daeghun.

"I'm not going to kill you yet," Daeghun said, breaking his self-imposed silence.

"Excuse me for not believing you," Bishop snarled back, taking the rabbit from Karnwyr and beginning to skin it.

Daeghun climbed a tree with an expert precision usually attributed to squirrels. He settled in on a branch, leaning against the trunk. "Believe what you will. In the end, we will all do what we have to do."

That is the creepiest elf I have ever seen, Bishop had to admit as he started cooking the rabbit, How'd someone like him raise someone like Raelis, whose equivalent forcing-me-to-do-something-I-didn't-want-to-do involved not letting me say no, cheerfully proclaiming that it was going to be awesome, and then giving me a cookie? Raelis, the half-elven personification of sunshine?

Karnwyr sat down and started watching Bishop's cooking actions intently. Cooking unnecessary, you know, the wolf pointed out, Takes away the flavor.

"As well as a whole bunch of other shit I have no intention of digesting," Bishop responded, turning the rabbit over the fire, "If you want something raw you're going to have to go catch something yourself."

… so you take my food and make me catch something else for me. How much more deadbeat can you get, Deadbeat?

"Well I was going to split this with you, but now I think I'm hungry enough to eat the whole thing by myself. And every time you call me 'deadbeat' I'm going to smack you on the head."

If the boot fits… The deadbeat boot, hee hee.

Bishop smacked him. The wolf let out a squeal of annoyance and moved to the other side of camp.

Bishop started eating, finishing it in record time. His hunger was barely sated, but he didn't trust Daeghun to not shoot him if he tried leaving again. Briefly he debated trying to kill the elf in his sleep, but he highly doubted the elf was actually sleeping and, more to the point, if he could even kill him.

And, in the very furthest corner of his mind, Bishop had to admit that the elf had a point being here. If Bishop had a daughter – which, even if he did, he had no intention of ever hanging around – and his daughter got pregnant by a man who left, well, Bishop would be doing the exact same thing (only with a lot more snide comments, he had to admit. Daeghun was much too literal to be any good at those). Maybe… Bishop had to scowl as he silently admitted that, in his estimation, Daeghun would be completely justified and perfectly in the right to kill him. The more and more he thought about his situation, the more and more he wished the elf would just get it over with.

The Realms would be a better place without him.

All the way across the Sword Coast, Bishop's thought found a kindred spirit in Casavir, who had stuck the letter into the fire heating the Knight Captain's office…

… and promptly confessed his soul to the only other noble person who was not involved in this love awkward-shape, Khelgar.

"So ye actually threw it in the fire?" Khelgar asked in surprise.

Casavir nodded, drinking some ale. Every time he thought of it, he felt guilty. "And yet I cannot tell Miss Raelis for that exact reason."

Khelgar looked as thoughtful as a drunk dwarf can look; needless to say, not thoughtful at all. "Eh, don't worry about it, paladin. If Raelis' crazy elf dad kills the bastard ranger the Realms'll be a happier place."

"That was my logic too," Casavir admitted, drinking some more.

"Geez lad, how much are you going to drink?"

"Until I can no longer think. That is the goal of many binge-drinkers, is it not?"

Khelgar held up his own mug. "And to think it took this long for me to like you. Drink up, lad!"