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Armistice

After a while, Lana heard light footsteps approaching and hastily looked up, to see Sand leave the cabin and approach her. She tried to inconspicuously wipe her face, not wanting Sand to see, ashamed of being caught in a moment of weakness like that, but the elf sat down next to her with a sigh.

"I can see quite well at night", he remarked. "No use trying to fool me, dear girl."

Lana stubbornly refused to reply, and he sighed again. "Lana", he said, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "I don't know what happened between him and you, and I confess I really don't want to. There are images I definitely can live without. But it's quite obvious that you care deeply for him, and while I admit I can't rightly see why that is, there's no shame in it, and there's no shame in crying. Don't be so hard on yourself. Life does that all on its own without needing you to help it along."

The last comment forced a small chuckle out of her, despite her misery. "I miss him, Sand", she said, her voice thick from crying. "Not the bastard sleeping inside, but the man he was during those weeks. I don't want him gone. And how can I miss him so much, when I'm supposed to be true to Casavir?" Her voice broke, and she swallowed. "What kind of woman am I to forget him so quickly? He's only gone for six months..."

Lana could only feel Sand shaking his head, because she was staring firmly at her updrawn knees, her other hand still buried in Karnwyr's fur.

"What kind of woman you are? One that is alive, I would say. Really, girl, you should not be so hard on yourself. I know you have not forgotten Casavir, and I know you never will. You truly loved him. But harsh as it may sound, life goes on, even if loved ones die. Believe me, I know. I've been around long enough to make that experience more than once. We feel guilty, because we are alive when they had to die, and we feel guilty when we even want to live on without them. But you should ask yourself: What would Casavir want you to do? Would he want you to wither? Or would he want you to be brave and go on living?"

Lana laughed hoarsely. "You sound like an echo of Bishop."

"Well then, seems like the version you met had a lot more wisdom in him than the one I know. Unless, as I would guess, he had a reason for saying this."

Lana shook her head, sad smile on her face. "Strangely? No, he hadn't. At least, not the one you're thinking of. He just wanted to comfort me, like you."

And I have ripped his head off for trying.

"Astonishing", Sand remarked. "And hard to imagine. But I'll take your word on it. You always had his measure, and I doubt he would have been able to fool you for long. But that's beside the point. Which is that you should not feel guilty for being alive."

"Daeghun stayed true to Shayla, even though she's been dead for decades", Lana said, miserably. Was her love for Casavir so much less than that of her foster father for his wife?

"Then the next question you must ask yourself is: Do you want to end up like Daeghun?", Sand replied sharply. "A broken, empty shell of a man? So dead inside he could not even allow himself to love the child he had taken in?"

"He is not like that", Lana protested, if a bit weakly.

"With all due respect to your foster father, girl, stop regarding his holding on to his dead wife as a heroic deed. And stop trying to live up to it. There's no use in living in the past. It only means the present passes you by. That might not be so bad for an elf, because he lives for a long time. But you are human, my dear. You have to get on with your life, else it will be over before you even realise it. There is a time for mourning those we lost, but there is also a time to let them go."

"Why are you awake anyhow?", Lana asked, desperately trying to change the subject. She knew she had to come to terms with the mess that were her emotions. But not just now.

Sand snorted. "That dwarf snores loud enough to wake every creature in this forest. I wonder my spell manages to keep Bishop asleep with all that noise. And don't think I did not notice you changing the subject."

"Sorry", she said softly. "But I can't think about it right now. And I can't deal with Bishop. It's..." She faltered, but then continued. "It's just so hard to have all those memories... and look into his face and see a stranger looking back. It hurts, Sand. Gods help me, but it hurts to know he does not remember... anything."

Wordlessly, Sand put his arm around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder and cried quietly for some time. It seemed she did a lot of that lately. Crying, that was.

What happened to "I'll never cry over a man again"?

I won't. As soon as a finish with this crying fit.

But she could not help it. It seemed that since she started to give in to her pain and accept comfort from Bishop, her grip on herself was not what it had been. And even if he was not Bishop, Sand's presence was so comforting. Everything about him, his soft, murmuring voice, the reassuring arm around her shoulders, and his smell, the familiar smell of old books and candle wax with a slight, acrid undercurrent of whatever strange substances he used in his laboratory, just spelled friend.

And if Lana had learned anything from her short time with Bishop, it was that friends were a precious commodity. And that she had been foolish to throw it away when she ran from the Keep. Foolish to run in the first place instead of turning to her friends for help, the friends that had been with her through everything, standing firmly by her side no matter what. She had repaid them poorly for their trust and their loyalty.

"Thank you", she said, thickly. "And sorry."

"For what, dear girl?", Sand asked lightly, patting her shoulder.

"For being my friend. For being there for me. And sorry for the anxiety I must have caused you. I never should have run away like I did. It was childish, and stupid. I know that now."

Sand laughed quietly. "Wonders never cease, it seems. The time with our ranger truly has changed you. You have grown up." He patted her shoulder again. "I'll try to help him, for your sake. I'll try to free him from the lovely Overwizard of the North. Besides, it will be a pleasure to put a spoke in her wheel, so to say. I just hope he'll use his new found freedom wisely."

"I doubt it", Lana said sadly. "But thank you nonetheless."

"Don't mention it, dear girl", Sand replied, getting up and extending his hand to her. "Come on. You should try to get some sleep. I'll take watch now, and if I manage to wake that oaf of a dwarf up later, I might catch some sleep myself."

Lana stroked Karnwyr's head a last time and got up. "Come with us inside?", she asked the wolf, but he only whined and put his head back on his paws. She sighed. "I understand", she said. "But give it some time. He'll forgive you. You'll see."

Karnwyr whined again, sounding unconvinced, and not knowing what else to say, Lana turned to follow Sand inside. Laying down on her cot, painstakingly avoiding to glance at the sleeping ranger, she doubted she would find any sleep at all.

Waking up the next morning, grey light filtering through the small window of the cabin, Lana felt a bit surprised that she indeed seemed to have had a good night's rest. A few suspicious grains of white sand on her pillow indicated that Sand had decided to help matters along, though.

For a moment Lana contemplated getting angry with the elf, but in the end decided not to bother. The wizard had been right, she had needed the rest. She probably should thank him, not yell at him.

She grinned a bit, imagining the surprise on his face if she did and sat up, glancing around. The cabin was empty, except for Bishop, still lying on his cot, securely bound, but his eyes were open now, and fixed on her, the expression on his face dark and thoroughly unwelcoming.

She swallowed and turned away, trying to ignore the sudden pain in her chest.

"How did you do it?", he asked, his voice cold.

She refused to look at him, not wanting to see the hate burning in his eyes. "Do what?", she asked, softly.

"Turn him against me. What do you think I'm talking about? How?"

"I didn't", she replied, still not looking at him.

He snorted. "Like hell you didn't. He attacked me. To save your hide. Just let me get my hands on him. I'll make him regret it. A damn traitor, that's what he is."

"Gee", Lana could not stop herself from saying. "Wonder where he gets that from."

He made a choking noise and she looked at him at last, just in time to see him fight the twitching of his mouth. "Watch it, Captain", he said, but the cold look in his eyes had thawed a bit with genuine amusement.

Irrationally encouraged by that, she got up and sat down next to him, a small smile twisting the corners of her mouth. "You know", she said conversationally, "you're not exactly in the position to threaten anyone."

This time, he answered her smile, if somewhat wryly. "Granted", he said. "Seems like this time, I'm at your mercy. Guess I best behave myself. So what do you intend to do with your prisoner, Captain?"

"Sand will try to free you from Jaluth's spell", she said.

His eyes widened, but his face remained carefully impassive. "That so? A mission of charity, then. How sweet. And why would he do that? As far as I remember, he never was very fond of me. And neither were you, if I recall correctly."

She could not meet his probing gaze and averted her eyes. "Does it matter?", she asked.

"Indulge me", he replied.

She was silent for long moments, racking her brain for something she could tell him, then settled for half truth. "Let's just say it's for old times sake", she said, returning her eyes to his face, though her heart was heavy. "We have been through a lot together."

And we have. Even if he does not remember.

"Yes", he said dryly. "But we did not part on the best of terms. Both times. So why, Captain?"

She felt the urge to run her hand over his cheek and through his soft hair. Speaking to him like this, on nearly friendly terms, was so confusing. She knew exactly that things would change abruptly if he ever got his hands free, but could not help but feel the old tenderness rise as she met his clear, questioning gaze. It was so hard not to forget how much things had changed, and that the man she had considered a friend was gone...

Stupid, Lana. Stupid. He would not hesitate to hurt you if he could, and you know it.

"I never gave up on you", she said, eventually, her voice soft. "Even when you turned on me. I know you can be a better man. I know you are a better man than you let yourself be. And I won't leave you to her clutches."

It was his time to avert his face, to avoid her eyes. "You're wrong", he said, with the barest hint of bitterness in his voice. "As I told you, for every one like you, there's hundreds like me. So don't delude yourself. I'm not some lost lamb that just had the misfortune to stumble down the wrong path. I made choices, and I knew very well what I was doing. I'm exactly what I seem to be."

She shook her head, the urge to touch his face soothingly nearly overwhelming. "I don' believe that. More, I know that's not true."

He shrugged, an awkward motion with his hands tied. "Suit yourself. But that's a very different tune from what you sang before, isn't it?"

She cast down her eyes, not answering, and heard him snort. "Seems like you're not so sure of what you're saying yourself. Good on you. I was starting to think hitting you left some permanent damage."

She let that pass without further comment. How could she have explained to him that she had seen his other side? That she had seen the man he could be if he would just let himself be free from whatever garbage he was dragging around from his past? Might be that he made his choices willingly, knowing exactly what he was doing. That did not mean he was happy with himself.

That was something even she could sense clearly when he had confronted them at Garius' side, when he had hurled the story of his past at them, like one would hurl rotten eggs, full of anger, full of spite. But she just knew that deep down, he was angry not with them, that his hate was directed at himself. The bitterness was something he had not been able to keep out of his voice.

In that moment she had understood that he was trapped by himself, forced down a path more destructive to himself than anyone else, because deep down, the only thing he really wanted was to be free of himself, destroy himself. That he probably even hoped to die, so he could leave those chains he had wrapped around himself behind him at last.

As he nearly had done before Duncan dragged him back. Which was what he had never been able to forgive. Not that he owed Duncan. He could have shrugged that off easily. What was a debt to him, anyway? Since when did he feel beholden to things like that?

No. That wasn't it at all. But as he said, dying, he had felt free for the first time. And Duncan had robbed him of that freedom. And that was why he hated her uncle so much.

That was what set Bishop's betrayal apart from that of the brat Qara. The arrogant sorceress didn't have the mental capacity to be given to any kind of self reflection. The only thing she had been bitter about was that she felt herself treated badly because she had been told to get a grip on those childish temper tantrums of hers.

There had been no doubt, no hesitation, not an ounce of that self-awareness that was reflected in the bitter tone of Bishop's voice. There had been only smugness and gloating at the prospect of showing her former companions what they got for not taking her seriously.

Which was why the brat had died, and Bishop had walked away.

She realised that what she had said to him was true: She had not given up on him. Not even then. And she would not now. Not after she had seen his other self.

And it had to be his true self, hadn't it...? After all, Garius had not given him a different personality. He just had taken away his memories. So the man she had met must be the real Bishop, the one he would have been if things had been different...

"Captain? You still in there?", his voice reached her ear, and she jumped slightly as she was pulled form her daydream.

"Huh?", she said, brilliantly.

He grinned. "A copper for your thoughts."

"There's no amount of gold that can buy my thoughts", she replied with a smirk.

He threw his head back and laughed, a true laugh, the rare sound making her heart flutter. As it always had done. Even when she did not like him much.

"Oh Captain", he said, still chuckling. "That sassy mouth of yours is really priceless." He regarded her with a strange glitter in his eyes. "Sometimes I think it's a shame you did not run off with me", he added suddenly. "I swear, you're the only woman I ever met that hasn't bored me to death after thirty seconds."

Lana smiled weakly, her heart feeling heavy. "That's because you wanted to choke me to death after thirty seconds every time we talked."

He grinned. "True, but still", he replied.

"Don't be hard on Karnwyr", she said, abruptly. "He did not do it to save my hide. He did it to save yours. He knew we wanted to try and remove the Geas."

His eyes narrowed. "That so? And how would he know that?"

"Because I promised him I'd come back and free you of it if he helped me escape", she answered, meeting his gaze squarely.

Bishop whistled. "So that's how you got rid of the bonds, huh? I already was afraid I was losing my edge. Turns out my companion went behind my back."

"He really didn't", she said seriously, staring hard into his eyes. "He would not help me before I told him I was no use to you as a captive. But I convinced him that helping me meant helping you."

He kept silent, and she repeated: "Be easy on him. He feels miserable anyway."

"As he should", he grumbled, but averted his eyes.

"You should thank him", she said sharply. "Without him, we both would probably be halfway back to Jaluth by now."

She saw him shudder at the mention of the name, and he sighed and returned his gaze to her. "Fine", he said. "I won't be angry with him." He paused, and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "But only because I prefer being tied to your bed instead of hers", he added, grinning lewdly.

She suppressed an answering grin and slapped him lightly. "Stop that", she said.

"Oooh yes, hit me", he moaned.

"You're a pig, Bishop", she replied, but could not completely repress a giggle.

"See?", he said. "We've been talking for fifteen minutes now, and I still don't feel like choking you."

"If you're trying to sweet talk me into untying you, give it up", she grinned.

His face turned serious, the playful smile wiped away. "Don't", he said heavily, his eyes boring into hers. "Whatever you do, don't untie me, you hear?"

She was taken aback from the sudden turn in his mood, and noticing that, he added: "As long as I'm helpless, the Geas keeps quiet. But I know that as soon as you release me, it will force me to act on it again." His face grew dark. "Believe me, I don't want that any more than you do."

"What's it like?", she asked softly. "What does it feel like? The Geas?"

He shuddered again, and the horror on his face was very real. "It hurts", he said, coarsely. "Hurts like a bitch.I never thought anything could hurt so bad. It's like... I don't know. Being eaten from the inside out. By millions of worms with very sharp teeth. When I try to act against it, it hurts. And on top of that, Jaluth can crush my heart whenever she feels like it." He laughed humourlessly. "In the literal sense." His eyes met Lana's and an unhappy smile played around his mouth. "When she found out I let you escape – let's just say she got testy. I still wonder how I survived. Guess she just wanted to have a bit more fun with me." There was a noticeable tremor in his voice. "Those were not the most happy moments of my life, let me tell you."

Lana called herself a fool, but her heart was breaking from the raw and naked fear in his eyes, a rare glimpse behind the cool, impassive mask of indifference he usually wore. She could not help it. The only thing she wanted to do was hug him close, comfort him, stroke his hair and tell him everything would be right again. Bloody stupid, it was. The only thing trying to comfort him would get her was a dagger between the ribs. If he could move, that was. She shook herself out of it.

"We'll remove the spell", she said more firmly than she felt. "Sand will find a way."

Bishop's eyes bored into hers. "I hope so, Captain", he said, quietly, but deadly serious. "Because if he can't – I hope you'll have the guts to slit my throat."

Lana swallowed, feeling the colour drain from her face. Slit his throat...? He couldn't be serious... He couldn't want... No, no, she could not...

"Captain", he repeated, his voice insistant, his eyes still fixed on hers. "I can't... I can't go back. Please. If the wizard can't remove the spell, promise me, go ahead and kill me."

Lana stared at him, horrified, her mind blank, not knowing what to answer.

She was spared from the necessity when there was a sudden plopping noise as the cabin disappeared around them and Bishop, lying bound on a cot that was no longer there, hit the ground with a thud.

Description
Armistice

After a while, Lana heard light footsteps approaching and hastily looked up, to see Sand leave the cabin and approach her. She tried to inconspicuously wipe her face, not wanting Sand to see, ashamed of being caught in a moment of weakness like that, but the elf sat down next to her with a sigh.

"I can see quite well at night", he remarked. "No use trying to fool me, dear girl."

Lana stubbornly refused to reply, and he sighed again. "Lana", he said, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "I don't know what happened between him and you, and I confess I really don't want to. There are images I definitely can live without. But it's quite obvious that you care deeply for him, and while I admit I can't rightly see why that is, there's no shame in it, and there's no shame in crying. Don't be so hard on yourself. Life does that all on its own without needing you to help it along."

The last comment forced a small chuckle out of her, despite her misery. "I miss him, Sand", she said, her voice thick from crying. "Not the bastard sleeping inside, but the man he was during those weeks. I don't want him gone. And how can I miss him so much, when I'm supposed to be true to Casavir?" Her voice broke, and she swallowed. "What kind of woman am I to forget him so quickly? He's only gone for six months..."

Lana could only feel Sand shaking his head, because she was staring firmly at her updrawn knees, her other hand still buried in Karnwyr's fur.

"What kind of woman you are? One that is alive, I would say. Really, girl, you should not be so hard on yourself. I know you have not forgotten Casavir, and I know you never will. You truly loved him. But harsh as it may sound, life goes on, even if loved ones die. Believe me, I know. I've been around long enough to make that experience more than once. We feel guilty, because we are alive when they had to die, and we feel guilty when we even want to live on without them. But you should ask yourself: What would Casavir want you to do? Would he want you to wither? Or would he want you to be brave and go on living?"

Lana laughed hoarsely. "You sound like an echo of Bishop."

"Well then, seems like the version you met had a lot more wisdom in him than the one I know. Unless, as I would guess, he had a reason for saying this."

Lana shook her head, sad smile on her face. "Strangely? No, he hadn't. At least, not the one you're thinking of. He just wanted to comfort me, like you."

And I have ripped his head off for trying.

"Astonishing", Sand remarked. "And hard to imagine. But I'll take your word on it. You always had his measure, and I doubt he would have been able to fool you for long. But that's beside the point. Which is that you should not feel guilty for being alive."

"Daeghun stayed true to Shayla, even though she's been dead for decades", Lana said, miserably. Was her love for Casavir so much less than that of her foster father for his wife?

"Then the next question you must ask yourself is: Do you want to end up like Daeghun?", Sand replied sharply. "A broken, empty shell of a man? So dead inside he could not even allow himself to love the child he had taken in?"

"He is not like that", Lana protested, if a bit weakly.

"With all due respect to your foster father, girl, stop regarding his holding on to his dead wife as a heroic deed. And stop trying to live up to it. There's no use in living in the past. It only means the present passes you by. That might not be so bad for an elf, because he lives for a long time. But you are human, my dear. You have to get on with your life, else it will be over before you even realise it. There is a time for mourning those we lost, but there is also a time to let them go."

"Why are you awake anyhow?", Lana asked, desperately trying to change the subject. She knew she had to come to terms with the mess that were her emotions. But not just now.

Sand snorted. "That dwarf snores loud enough to wake every creature in this forest. I wonder my spell manages to keep Bishop asleep with all that noise. And don't think I did not notice you changing the subject."

"Sorry", she said softly. "But I can't think about it right now. And I can't deal with Bishop. It's..." She faltered, but then continued. "It's just so hard to have all those memories... and look into his face and see a stranger looking back. It hurts, Sand. Gods help me, but it hurts to know he does not remember... anything."

Wordlessly, Sand put his arm around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder and cried quietly for some time. It seemed she did a lot of that lately. Crying, that was.

What happened to "I'll never cry over a man again"?

I won't. As soon as a finish with this crying fit.

But she could not help it. It seemed that since she started to give in to her pain and accept comfort from Bishop, her grip on herself was not what it had been. And even if he was not Bishop, Sand's presence was so comforting. Everything about him, his soft, murmuring voice, the reassuring arm around her shoulders, and his smell, the familiar smell of old books and candle wax with a slight, acrid undercurrent of whatever strange substances he used in his laboratory, just spelled friend.

And if Lana had learned anything from her short time with Bishop, it was that friends were a precious commodity. And that she had been foolish to throw it away when she ran from the Keep. Foolish to run in the first place instead of turning to her friends for help, the friends that had been with her through everything, standing firmly by her side no matter what. She had repaid them poorly for their trust and their loyalty.

"Thank you", she said, thickly. "And sorry."

"For what, dear girl?", Sand asked lightly, patting her shoulder.

"For being my friend. For being there for me. And sorry for the anxiety I must have caused you. I never should have run away like I did. It was childish, and stupid. I know that now."

Sand laughed quietly. "Wonders never cease, it seems. The time with our ranger truly has changed you. You have grown up." He patted her shoulder again. "I'll try to help him, for your sake. I'll try to free him from the lovely Overwizard of the North. Besides, it will be a pleasure to put a spoke in her wheel, so to say. I just hope he'll use his new found freedom wisely."

"I doubt it", Lana said sadly. "But thank you nonetheless."

"Don't mention it, dear girl", Sand replied, getting up and extending his hand to her. "Come on. You should try to get some sleep. I'll take watch now, and if I manage to wake that oaf of a dwarf up later, I might catch some sleep myself."

Lana stroked Karnwyr's head a last time and got up. "Come with us inside?", she asked the wolf, but he only whined and put his head back on his paws. She sighed. "I understand", she said. "But give it some time. He'll forgive you. You'll see."

Karnwyr whined again, sounding unconvinced, and not knowing what else to say, Lana turned to follow Sand inside. Laying down on her cot, painstakingly avoiding to glance at the sleeping ranger, she doubted she would find any sleep at all.

Waking up the next morning, grey light filtering through the small window of the cabin, Lana felt a bit surprised that she indeed seemed to have had a good night's rest. A few suspicious grains of white sand on her pillow indicated that Sand had decided to help matters along, though.

For a moment Lana contemplated getting angry with the elf, but in the end decided not to bother. The wizard had been right, she had needed the rest. She probably should thank him, not yell at him.

She grinned a bit, imagining the surprise on his face if she did and sat up, glancing around. The cabin was empty, except for Bishop, still lying on his cot, securely bound, but his eyes were open now, and fixed on her, the expression on his face dark and thoroughly unwelcoming.

She swallowed and turned away, trying to ignore the sudden pain in her chest.

"How did you do it?", he asked, his voice cold.

She refused to look at him, not wanting to see the hate burning in his eyes. "Do what?", she asked, softly.

"Turn him against me. What do you think I'm talking about? How?"

"I didn't", she replied, still not looking at him.

He snorted. "Like hell you didn't. He attacked me. To save your hide. Just let me get my hands on him. I'll make him regret it. A damn traitor, that's what he is."

"Gee", Lana could not stop herself from saying. "Wonder where he gets that from."

He made a choking noise and she looked at him at last, just in time to see him fight the twitching of his mouth. "Watch it, Captain", he said, but the cold look in his eyes had thawed a bit with genuine amusement.

Irrationally encouraged by that, she got up and sat down next to him, a small smile twisting the corners of her mouth. "You know", she said conversationally, "you're not exactly in the position to threaten anyone."

This time, he answered her smile, if somewhat wryly. "Granted", he said. "Seems like this time, I'm at your mercy. Guess I best behave myself. So what do you intend to do with your prisoner, Captain?"

"Sand will try to free you from Jaluth's spell", she said.

His eyes widened, but his face remained carefully impassive. "That so? A mission of charity, then. How sweet. And why would he do that? As far as I remember, he never was very fond of me. And neither were you, if I recall correctly."

She could not meet his probing gaze and averted her eyes. "Does it matter?", she asked.

"Indulge me", he replied.

She was silent for long moments, racking her brain for something she could tell him, then settled for half truth. "Let's just say it's for old times sake", she said, returning her eyes to his face, though her heart was heavy. "We have been through a lot together."

And we have. Even if he does not remember.

"Yes", he said dryly. "But we did not part on the best of terms. Both times. So why, Captain?"

She felt the urge to run her hand over his cheek and through his soft hair. Speaking to him like this, on nearly friendly terms, was so confusing. She knew exactly that things would change abruptly if he ever got his hands free, but could not help but feel the old tenderness rise as she met his clear, questioning gaze. It was so hard not to forget how much things had changed, and that the man she had considered a friend was gone...

Stupid, Lana. Stupid. He would not hesitate to hurt you if he could, and you know it.

"I never gave up on you", she said, eventually, her voice soft. "Even when you turned on me. I know you can be a better man. I know you are a better man than you let yourself be. And I won't leave you to her clutches."

It was his time to avert his face, to avoid her eyes. "You're wrong", he said, with the barest hint of bitterness in his voice. "As I told you, for every one like you, there's hundreds like me. So don't delude yourself. I'm not some lost lamb that just had the misfortune to stumble down the wrong path. I made choices, and I knew very well what I was doing. I'm exactly what I seem to be."

She shook her head, the urge to touch his face soothingly nearly overwhelming. "I don' believe that. More, I know that's not true."

He shrugged, an awkward motion with his hands tied. "Suit yourself. But that's a very different tune from what you sang before, isn't it?"

She cast down her eyes, not answering, and heard him snort. "Seems like you're not so sure of what you're saying yourself. Good on you. I was starting to think hitting you left some permanent damage."

She let that pass without further comment. How could she have explained to him that she had seen his other side? That she had seen the man he could be if he would just let himself be free from whatever garbage he was dragging around from his past? Might be that he made his choices willingly, knowing exactly what he was doing. That did not mean he was happy with himself.

That was something even she could sense clearly when he had confronted them at Garius' side, when he had hurled the story of his past at them, like one would hurl rotten eggs, full of anger, full of spite. But she just knew that deep down, he was angry not with them, that his hate was directed at himself. The bitterness was something he had not been able to keep out of his voice.

In that moment she had understood that he was trapped by himself, forced down a path more destructive to himself than anyone else, because deep down, the only thing he really wanted was to be free of himself, destroy himself. That he probably even hoped to die, so he could leave those chains he had wrapped around himself behind him at last.

As he nearly had done before Duncan dragged him back. Which was what he had never been able to forgive. Not that he owed Duncan. He could have shrugged that off easily. What was a debt to him, anyway? Since when did he feel beholden to things like that?

No. That wasn't it at all. But as he said, dying, he had felt free for the first time. And Duncan had robbed him of that freedom. And that was why he hated her uncle so much.

That was what set Bishop's betrayal apart from that of the brat Qara. The arrogant sorceress didn't have the mental capacity to be given to any kind of self reflection. The only thing she had been bitter about was that she felt herself treated badly because she had been told to get a grip on those childish temper tantrums of hers.

There had been no doubt, no hesitation, not an ounce of that self-awareness that was reflected in the bitter tone of Bishop's voice. There had been only smugness and gloating at the prospect of showing her former companions what they got for not taking her seriously.

Which was why the brat had died, and Bishop had walked away.

She realised that what she had said to him was true: She had not given up on him. Not even then. And she would not now. Not after she had seen his other self.

And it had to be his true self, hadn't it...? After all, Garius had not given him a different personality. He just had taken away his memories. So the man she had met must be the real Bishop, the one he would have been if things had been different...

"Captain? You still in there?", his voice reached her ear, and she jumped slightly as she was pulled form her daydream.

"Huh?", she said, brilliantly.

He grinned. "A copper for your thoughts."

"There's no amount of gold that can buy my thoughts", she replied with a smirk.

He threw his head back and laughed, a true laugh, the rare sound making her heart flutter. As it always had done. Even when she did not like him much.

"Oh Captain", he said, still chuckling. "That sassy mouth of yours is really priceless." He regarded her with a strange glitter in his eyes. "Sometimes I think it's a shame you did not run off with me", he added suddenly. "I swear, you're the only woman I ever met that hasn't bored me to death after thirty seconds."

Lana smiled weakly, her heart feeling heavy. "That's because you wanted to choke me to death after thirty seconds every time we talked."

He grinned. "True, but still", he replied.

"Don't be hard on Karnwyr", she said, abruptly. "He did not do it to save my hide. He did it to save yours. He knew we wanted to try and remove the Geas."

His eyes narrowed. "That so? And how would he know that?"

"Because I promised him I'd come back and free you of it if he helped me escape", she answered, meeting his gaze squarely.

Bishop whistled. "So that's how you got rid of the bonds, huh? I already was afraid I was losing my edge. Turns out my companion went behind my back."

"He really didn't", she said seriously, staring hard into his eyes. "He would not help me before I told him I was no use to you as a captive. But I convinced him that helping me meant helping you."

He kept silent, and she repeated: "Be easy on him. He feels miserable anyway."

"As he should", he grumbled, but averted his eyes.

"You should thank him", she said sharply. "Without him, we both would probably be halfway back to Jaluth by now."

She saw him shudder at the mention of the name, and he sighed and returned his gaze to her. "Fine", he said. "I won't be angry with him." He paused, and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "But only because I prefer being tied to your bed instead of hers", he added, grinning lewdly.

She suppressed an answering grin and slapped him lightly. "Stop that", she said.

"Oooh yes, hit me", he moaned.

"You're a pig, Bishop", she replied, but could not completely repress a giggle.

"See?", he said. "We've been talking for fifteen minutes now, and I still don't feel like choking you."

"If you're trying to sweet talk me into untying you, give it up", she grinned.

His face turned serious, the playful smile wiped away. "Don't", he said heavily, his eyes boring into hers. "Whatever you do, don't untie me, you hear?"

She was taken aback from the sudden turn in his mood, and noticing that, he added: "As long as I'm helpless, the Geas keeps quiet. But I know that as soon as you release me, it will force me to act on it again." His face grew dark. "Believe me, I don't want that any more than you do."

"What's it like?", she asked softly. "What does it feel like? The Geas?"

He shuddered again, and the horror on his face was very real. "It hurts", he said, coarsely. "Hurts like a bitch.I never thought anything could hurt so bad. It's like... I don't know. Being eaten from the inside out. By millions of worms with very sharp teeth. When I try to act against it, it hurts. And on top of that, Jaluth can crush my heart whenever she feels like it." He laughed humourlessly. "In the literal sense." His eyes met Lana's and an unhappy smile played around his mouth. "When she found out I let you escape – let's just say she got testy. I still wonder how I survived. Guess she just wanted to have a bit more fun with me." There was a noticeable tremor in his voice. "Those were not the most happy moments of my life, let me tell you."

Lana called herself a fool, but her heart was breaking from the raw and naked fear in his eyes, a rare glimpse behind the cool, impassive mask of indifference he usually wore. She could not help it. The only thing she wanted to do was hug him close, comfort him, stroke his hair and tell him everything would be right again. Bloody stupid, it was. The only thing trying to comfort him would get her was a dagger between the ribs. If he could move, that was. She shook herself out of it.

"We'll remove the spell", she said more firmly than she felt. "Sand will find a way."

Bishop's eyes bored into hers. "I hope so, Captain", he said, quietly, but deadly serious. "Because if he can't – I hope you'll have the guts to slit my throat."

Lana swallowed, feeling the colour drain from her face. Slit his throat...? He couldn't be serious... He couldn't want... No, no, she could not...

"Captain", he repeated, his voice insistant, his eyes still fixed on hers. "I can't... I can't go back. Please. If the wizard can't remove the spell, promise me, go ahead and kill me."

Lana stared at him, horrified, her mind blank, not knowing what to answer.

She was spared from the necessity when there was a sudden plopping noise as the cabin disappeared around them and Bishop, lying bound on a cot that was no longer there, hit the ground with a thud.