This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari.
Their travelling days were filled with Kyrie teaching Bishop to use the wand, how to find the fire, the number of steps to the edge of the camp, and how to take care of himself. He was soon able to shave with minimal assistance.
Kyrie placed the bow in his hands one day and asked him to shoot it for her. Unsure of himself, he protested, then threw it down and walked away. She picked it up and walked to the edge of the camp. She had never drawn a bow before that she could remember, and it felt heavy and awkward. She had trouble nocking the arrow, and in the end it fell to the ground a few pathetic feet from where it started. She tried again and again, but had no idea how to make it shoot straight and true.
"Like this…" She felt Bishop's body close behind her, his arms running alongside hers. He put his hands over hers on the bow and helped her nock and draw.
His lips grazed the top of her head just once; it was hard for him to be near her and not wish to kiss or hold her close.
"Release it, and tell me where it goes" he instructed softly.
Kyrie did so, and watched the arrow sail towards the forest.
"It went almost to the edge of the forest, about 30 feet!"
"You can do better. Try again. Hold your fingers like this. You are strong, I'm impressed you can actually draw this bow."
Kyrie tried again, and the arrow flew into the forest and disappeared. She cheered. Bishop told her how to aim, and she practiced for some time, each arrow let loose came closer to the mark she set each time.
She lowered the bow, her arms and shoulders exhausted. His hands were on her arms, gently squeezing the tension out of them. He massaged down to her wrists and hands, then back up to her shoulders. He embraced her, still standing behind, one arm across her chest, the other across her abdomen, his lips on the curve of her neck.
She felt him pressing against her, his desire hard and evident. He turned her around, eyes closed, and pulled her into a tight embrace, his face in her hair.
"Bishop, I can't…"
"Shhh. Someone like you is bound to have a lover, many lovers maybe" his voice was soft and filled with longing. "I can accept that if you will just give me this time, just here and now, before you leave me."
"I don't intend to leave you here in the wilds Bishop, you and Karnwyr are coming with me to a town."
"And after?...lets not say its anything other then what it is. You will leave eventually…that's the truth."
By the gods, Bishop, Kyrie's mind cried. I want you, I need you, I love you…but I don't have a whole me to give you.
His hands grasped her hair, pulling her face to his, his lips crushing hers. Pulling back, his finger moved over her lips, tracing the shape. Keeping his sightless amber eyes open he closed the distance between them again and his tongue slipped out to take the path his finger had just traced. He licked at her upper lip, then the lower, eventually sliding his tongue between them. Kyrie's lips parted, her body on fire for him.
Bishop was breathing heavily, his hands moved down her body to her buttocks and squeezed them hard, his excited member pressing painfully against her.
"By the nine hells, Kyrie…I love you. I loved you then, I love you now!"
An icy hand grabbed and twisted her heart, and she shoved him backwards.
"What? What did you just say? I never told you my name!"
"I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean…I don't know… I just…" He stammered, his face a mask of shock. He reached out a hand for her.
Why did I say that? his mind was reeling. He was assaulted by visions, the Knight Captain of his past, melding and morphing into the woman before him, the woman he had fallen in love with. Suddenly all the similarities between them hit him like a brick wall and he couldnt breathe. No! It was not possible!
"Bishop, what did you call me?" she almost shouted at him, and slapped his hand away.
"Kyrie! That was her name! The woman I loved and betrayed twice because I was a raving lunatic!"
The silence between them was so heavy even the wolf circled around them at a distance, whining softly. Bishop's hand remained outstretched and she looked at it, then looked back into his wide unseeing eyes.
"That's my name, Bishop. Kyrie. Kyrie Barrington." She said it softly, confused, a flutter starting in her chest that became a vice grip that squeezed, making breathing difficult.
Bishop sank to his knees in the grass, his eyes still wide, his expression tortured.
The same hair, the same eyes, the same name. Was it her? How was that even possible? She hadn't, didn't, recognize him or give any inkling that she knew him despite what he had shared with her. Her reaction to him was genuine. If she had known it was him, the Kyrie he had known would have taken out her sword, or whatever was handy at the time and run him through, with good reason. She had died, everyone said so! A terrible feeling of fear decended on his heart.
"K…Kyrie…your wrist. Your right arm on the inside. Is there a mark there? A birthmark?"
Trembling she turned over her arm. There it was as she knew it would be, a strangely shaped birthmark.
"Its scales isn't it. The scales of justice, the mark of Tyr."
He heard her sharp intake of breath as the strange mark suddenly became clear, and his heart fell with a crash to his feet. Something had robbed her of her memories. She didn't remember him, and it was now apparent that all this time she hadn't remembered Casavir either.
Suddenly he grabbed his head with a strangled cry and fell over sideways as a lancing, white hot pain shot through it.
He was hurled headlong into a forgotten memory.
He screamed.
"Someone thought enough of you to pray for your immortal soul, Bishop!" A voice, loud and reverberating echoed in his skull. He was lying on a cold rocky ground in a pool of blood. His blood. His body was in a torn and twisted agony, and he couldn't move.
He felt something lift him, and he screamed in pain. His broken, crushed limbs dangled as an invisible hand dragged him up from the ground. He saw other bodies crushed beneath pillars, heard shouts and screams, saw the ground tremble and shake and throw rocks and debris around.
He saw himself rising up, above the fray.
The next thing he knew he was standing free of pain in a bright windowless room, in front of a mirror whose surface was rippling water.
"This was to be your fate!" the voice thundered.
He suddenly saw horrifying images of broken, twisted bodies entwined on a wall. He heard the gut wrenching screams, saw hands tearing and clawing, writhing in indescribable agony. Voices begged for mercy, for compassion, for release.
He clapped his hands over his ears as the wailing grew louder and louder.
"Stop! Please!"
The room became brighter and brighter and the terrifying vision faded, the sounds faded away. A human sized glowing ball of light appeared behind him in the mirror and he turned around and stared at it. A figure was moving in the bright light.
"Someone believed in your redemption!" The figure's voice boomed at him. "You have been an arrogant, faithless fool who has looked upon all goodness in the world with disdain, even hers. You betrayed her unto your own death, and still she begged me for your life!"
Bishop stared into the light, trying to see the figure. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know where he was, or what was happening. All he remembered was running through the Vale and the rocks starting to come down. Had he died? Was this the nine hells? What was that wall? Was it the Wall of the Faithless? But that was just a story made to frighten children and errant parishioners, wasn't it?
Bishop started off scared.
Bishop grew steadily more terrified.
"Ignorant human! You stand before the mighty Tyr and you dare to look upon me with those faithless eyes! On your knees dog!"
Bishop felt his legs give way and he collapsed to the smooth white marble floor.
"It was the love in the heart of a favored soul that has spared you the fate shown to you. The love in her heart, that of my kin! For all you did to her, she yet forgave you! Miserable worm!" Tyr's enraged voice tore through his skull and he trembled in absolute terror.
"You are returned now to the land of the living, but it is my judgement that you do not deserve to see the world you held in so much contempt, and will henceforth walk in the darkness you cloaked yourself with in life."
A bright flash erupted from the figure, and Bishop's world was plunged into complete darkness.
He felt himself suddenly falling through space, faster and faster. He was too terrified to scream as he flailed helplessly in the empty air.
He landed hard, pain shot through his leg and shoulder and he cried out.
"As deserving as you are of this fate I have decreed, it would be unjust for you to be punished without a chance of redemption," echoed the god's voice in his head.
"Only the love of the one you betrayed can heal your eyes and save your soul. She must be willing to see you as you are, and love you regardless."
"But she's dead!" Bishop screamed. "Kyrie is dead!"
The god's voice emanated from all around him, a deep, angry and hollow sound.
"Then you have sealed your fate."
Kyrie stared in horror as Bishop writhed on the ground screaming in agony. The sound chilled her to the bone and she also sank into the grass. She felt that sharp pain in her abdomen, and a wave of nausea hit her.
She collapsed, curled up in a ball, images assaulting her mind, voices overlapping and echoing.
"Don't do this Bishop"
"I can't help it…getting tied down…even to a feeling for someone, just isn't my style. I'm not going to be tied to anyone or anything again. That's the reason it's going to end like this!"
The cavernous room was cold, Casavir moved closer to her, his hand slipping into hers. She saw the anger in his steely blue eyes, this betrayal that might cost some, or all of them their lives.
She turned her head slightly and saw Sand, whose arm slipped through hers in comfort.
"That's another thing, I don't like the way you seem to cast your lot in with the paladin every chance you get."
Kyrie shook her head at him in disbelief. She couldn't believe that she had actually had feelings for him at any point. She had thought, mistakenly it seemed, that there was good in him, that if he were shown kindness and compassion he would come around. But he hadn't. He had remained cold and distant, aggressive and insulting. He had shown his disdain and disrespect for Casavir from the moment they met, and things only got worse as time went on. Now this. She looked at the skull headed wizard behind Bishop, and her stomach sank.
He was willing to see them all die just to satisfy his need for vengeance.
Again.
Kyrie moaned into the earth, each sharp inhale taking in bits of dirt and grass. She wanted to break away from the memories, to shut them away, to stop them, to end the terrible pain in her heart.
Casavir put his arm around her shoulders and held her close.
"All acts carry a price, Bishop. And this betrayal will cost you much."
"Maybe, but standing on the losing side's going to cost you your life."
"Even you know there are fates worse then death, Bishop." Casavir's voice was hard and cold.
Kyrie trembled and did her best to hide it from the others, but there was no fooling Casavir and Sand who stood so close to her.
She looked searchingly at Bishop, and suddenly his amber eyes betrayed his words. His eyes locked with hers, and in that moment she understood.
"I would have died for you, I loved you so much." She heard his mind say to hers.
She was in his head, feeling, hearing everything he wanted to say to her but was never able to. Feelings she had no way of knowing at the time.
"Kyrie, if you had only run away with me and left all this behind, I would have given my life to protect you, to love you. Just me and you, free, forever. All I wanted was love, your love."
Tears poured from her eyes as she stared at him, knowing how deeply wounded he had been. She saw flashes and snippets of a childhood of pain and rejection. She saw a beautiful, sensitive young man grow into a cruel tyrant because the world wouldn't accept him. She saw atrocities committed in pain and frustration and a deep desire to belong. She felt his yearning to be part of something, someone.
In his thoughtless desperation, he had doomed himself.
Kyrie knew then he would die, and with that death he would be sent to the nine hells or worse, the Wall of the Faithless.
"Oh Bishop," her eyes echoed her thoughts. "I still believe there is goodness inside you. May Tyr show compassion for your soul and show you the mercy you could never show to others. That would be true justice."
She turned away from Bishop and buried her head in Casavir's chest.
Casavir…
Kyrie felt a hand touch her shoulder, and trembling she looked up. Bishop had crawled over and was sobbing, tears coursing from his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Kyrie, I'm sorry for everything you lost, because of me. I am punished by Tyr himself for the injustices I have made others to suffer. I love you so much, it's killing me. I would rather go to the Wall and face oblivion then live another day in this purgatory. I won't even ask for your forgiveness because I know that you might give it, and I don't deserve it."
Kyrie couldn't move her eyes from his. She remembered with immense pain everything he had done to her then, to those friends she couldn't recall, to Sand, to Casavir. She remembered Bishop's cruelty towards them all, his overwhelming need for control, his horror of being bound to anyone or anything. She remembered with horror that he had brought a great evil down upon them, but the details remained out of her grasp. He had wanted them all dead!
She remembered Torio and her little surrogate family, Sand's heartfelt confessions. With a cry of pain she remembered her beloved Casavir, the gentle blue eyed paladin who was her whole world.
She remembered Sand telling her who she had been, where her home was.
She remembered the night she and Bishop had spent at the river, and guilt washed over her in a wave.
"Kyrie…" Bishop was trying to pull her towards him. At his touch, rage suddenly filled her.
"NO!" she screamed. "No!" She forced herself to sit up, jerking her arms out of his grasp.
She shoved him hard and he fell backwards. Glaring at him she screamed.
"You killed my Cassi! I loved him with all my heart and soul, and YOU killed him for nothing more then to satisfy your twisted, depraved notions of vengeance!"
She stood up and advanced on him while he stared sightlessly up at her in fear.
"I could have loved you back then! I would have loved you if you had given me any sign that you were a human being, and not some heartless creature the nine hells spat out!"
She slapped him, hard, leaving an angry red mark on his cheek. The sight of it infuriated her even more.
"I came here, lost and alone and devoid of memory and tried to help you and what did you do? You shoved me around, beat me with a stick and tried to kick and hit me every chance you got! All you did was hurt me, over and over again, just like before! You use the word love while you slash and stab and destroy everything good!"
In a furious rage she slapped him again as tears ran down his cheeks.
"Did you watch him die Bishop? Did you watch the life I held dearer then my own slip away? Were you finally happy then? Was your vengeance finally sated? Was it?" She kicked him, several times, viciously.
Bishop was crying openly, shaking his head. "I died, Kyrie!" he cried. "I died! I didn't see anyone or anything I knew, I …I died. I saw…I saw Tyr!"
"What? You don't believe in anyone or anything least of all a god! Why would the god of justice bother to even look at you!"
"Because of YOU!" he yelled back. "Because you asked him to spare me! You are Aasimar, kin of Tyr! Just as it says on the mark on your arm!"
Kyrie's fury was wildfire. She stood over him breathing as though she had run a mile. "These days I spent with you. You took my heart, and you took my body and it was all a big deception wasn't it? To what end? What evil lies in your heart now, what evil will you defile me with this time around?"
"Evil? I love you! Yeah I was a jackass at first! I was scared, I was angry, but you helped me through that! I asked you to stay with me, here in the wilds, AGAIN! You didn't even remember who you were, you sure didn't remember Casavir! As for taking your body, words weren't affecting you! I wanted to show you how I felt! You gave yourself to me willingly because like it or not Kyrie, you love me too! You fell in love with me this time for who I am and not who I used to be! You said you forgave me all those things I told you I did!"
She moved as if to strike him, to slap the words from his mouth, but she stopped. As long as she nursed the anger, she would not have to accommodate the truth of his words, not have to consider what she had done, willingly.
"The hatred I have for you now is indescribable, Bishop. You are here alive, when so many who have proven themselves worthy to live are…" she couldn't finish the sentence as her tears started anew.
"I'm done with you!"
Kyrie stalked off down the field, hearing Karnwyr barking. She didn't care where she went, as long as it was far away from him.
Behind her, Bishop pulled his knees up to his chest and heard only the echoing memory of the god's words.
She must be willing to see you as you are and love you regardless. Your fate is sealed.
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Kyrie sat beneath a tree beside the river for an entire day. She recounted the day she first met Bishop, so long ago. It had been …where? In a tavern, in a city. He had made a scathing, cruel comment towards her and all she remembered was seeing his amber eyes, which belied his harsh words. Eyes that always held so much promise, no matter what walls he built around them. She remembered walking with him, talking with him, getting to know him. So many times she felt he was about to share how he felt with her, then he would withdraw into himself again.
The cloak was askew, bits of dried leaves and twigs clinging to it and to his hair. Kyrie reached up and brushed away the debris, then straightened his cloak with a smile.
Bishop tilted his head enquiringly at her, and when her hand brushed his cheek he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into her touch. He opened his mouth to say something and Kyrie's large sunset eyes looked into his amber ones in anticipation. Something flickered there and he stepped back suddenly.
"I'm a big boy now. I don't need a mother, or anyone else to nag me about how I look." He shrugged the cloak back into its askew state and pushed rudely past her.
Kyrie had felt the rejection deeply that time. She honestly thought he enjoyed the attention she gave him. She watched him stalk out of the tavern, sadness twisting in her gut.
She remembered how awkward and unsure of himself he was, and looking back she saw how he cloaked that feeling of inadequacy with a wall of harshness. When Casavir had decided to join them, Bishop had gotten more rude and unkind then she had yet seen him. He withdrew from her completely…why was he even surprised she began to fall for the handsome stranger? Every attempt she had made to reach out to him was slapped aside, yet she remembered how the hurt would flash in his eyes when Casavir brought her a gift, how he mocked the paladin's gentle words and chivalrous nature.
Everything about Casavir had rankled the ranger, because in Casavir he saw everything he never was and never would be. Kyrie remembered how he had disappeared once she and Casavir had made their relationship public, showing up only when he felt the need to torment the other man.
Oh Bishop, she thought regretfully, you didn't need to be Casavir, you needed to be you and that would have been enough for me. The seeds were there, you just didn't nurture them and allow them to grow.
Kyrie got up and walked in the shallow river for some time. The smooth rocks beneath her feet, the feel of the water flowing around her legs, the gentle babbling of the river helped calm her raging heart.
Her mind wandered towards her time with Bishop in the wilds, how close they had gotten, how he had shared with her some hard truths…and she had forgiven him for them. Had that truly changed because the story was suddenly hers and not some unknown persons? Was she only capable of forgiving someone if it didn't personally affect her?
You told him you could fall in love with him, said the voice of her mind.
Because I didn't remember my Casavir.
That doesn't change the way you feel about Bishop.
That is true.
You liked his touch, his kiss, and you liked feeling him inside you.
Very much.
Didn't you tell Torio that everyone is worthy of redemption if they asked for it?
Yes.
You forgave her.
Yes.
Didn't Bishop agree to his wrongdoings?
Yes.
Doesn't he deserve forgiveness too?
He killed Casavir.
Are you sure of that?
No.
Bishop betrayed you back then, why?
Because he loved me and he was hurting.
That means he can love. Hasn't he shown you that now?
Yes.
He was at your side for a long time, back then. Always there for you, backing you up. He made mistakes, bad choices, because he couldn't handle love. He couldn't handle the one thing in his life he had never had, yet wanted more then anything else.
Yes.
Doesn't he deserve forgiveness too?
No. He took advantage of me.
He couldn't take advantage of you because he didn't know who you were. And had he known, he believes Casavir is dead.
He made me break my promise to Casavir!
You didn't stop him. He didn't make you do anything your heart didn't want to do.
I didn't remember my Cassi!
If you didn't have feelings for Bishop you would have stopped him.
Yes
Doesn't Bishop deserve forgiveness?
Yes
Why?
Because I love him, too.
She sighed, her heart heavy, but at the same time strangely lighter. She needed to move on, to find a town and get back together with Sand and Torio, if they hadn't killed each other by now, she thought ruefully. She had to find Casavir. There was no doubt in her mind that he wasn't dead. The latent memory that was Cassi who had been begging her not to forget him while Bishop's lips were on hers, while he was inside her…was very much alive, somewhere. She didn't care if Sand or Torio didn't believe her, she knew the man she loved was not gone. It was time to find him, but first there was something she needed to do.
Bishop was curled up in his blanket asleep beside the fire, Karnwyr beside him. He had managed to make it back to camp, most likely with the wolf's help. The fire was lit, the wand nearby. The firelight played on his face, illuminating the streaks of tears still on his cheeks. Kyrie crept in and knelt beside him. Karnwyr whined softly, his tail moving slowly from side to side but he made no motion to get up. She stroked his hair for a moment, sure she would never see him again.
"I'm sorry, Bishop." She whispered. "I'm sorry things have to be this way. I…I love you, but I can't be with you."
She laid her hands over his eyes. A warmth that started in her head spread and flowed downwards to her hands, into his eyes. She wasn't sure it would even work, if he was being punished by the gods, they wouldn't allow her healing to take effect. But she had to try, for him. Watching him sleep for a few moments, Kyrie wished him well.
"Karnwyr, you take care of him ok? You might have to be his eyes now." The wolf's tail moved, and his eyes sparkled.
Kyrie stood up and silently moved from the camp.
She hadn't gone far when a strange green, glowing orb appeared. The orb! She suddenly remembered how it had wakened her in the early morning at Torio's house, robbing her of her vision and forcing her to follow it, only to vanish and take her memories with it. What manner of sorcery was this?
"What are you? Why are you following me around?"
In response there was a bright flash of light and Kyrie felt herself falling.
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Bishop pulled the blankets up over his head to keep the light out. Barely conscious he grunted and rolled over, burying his face in Karnwyr's thick grey fur.
So bright, how was anyone to sleep …his heart caught in his throat.
Light!
He opened his eyes and lifted his head, being met with a painful shocking glare. Reflexively he shut his eyes again, clapping a hand over them. He struggled to a sitting position and peered through his hand. Everything around him was as bright as the sun, it hurt to see it.
See!
Slowly he lowered his hand, eyes squinting. He looked down and saw his hands, Karnwyr's paw, and the dirt of the earth. He turned his hands over and over, staring at them, then his now wide eyes took in the entire camp, his lupine friend, the firepit…everything. There was his bow and quiver, the wand, the dented metal cup…Kyrie's empty blanket.
Kyrie.
He pulled her blanket over to him and wrapped his arms around it, trying to capture her scent, a few of her stray hairs woven into it.
Kyrie.
She had done this. She had given him his sight, and his life back. Standing, he looked off into the distance around the camp, hoping that maybe he would see her, but knowing in his heart that she was gone.
"Kyrie!" he shouted into the wind. "I love you!"
Karnwyr spun and woofed softly, standing on his hind legs and giving Bishop's face a quick lick. Bishop threw his arms around the wolf and hugged him, then quickly gathered up the camp.
"We got to find her, boy. She needs us. Might not know it but she does. How far do you think that little paladin got to over night? Let's go!"
His steps were light as he and the wolf set off across the field at a jog.
It was the first time in his life that Bishop had felt true, unbridled joy.