This is a response to a BMT Fic challenge for a weird pairing theme.

Warnings: Mature theme. Coarse language (mild). Sexual references (mild). Not suitable for those below 13 years of age.

Set during the The Novice, not long after Cery started to help Akkarin hunt those Sachakan spies.

A Young Thief's Dilemma

Cery lifted the sharp object in his hand. Positioning it before his face, he cocked an eye. About twenty paces away from where he stood, a wooden board scarred with countless pin-sized holes was fastened to the wall beside the entrance of his office. Aiming at it carefully, he threw the yerim with a flick of his wrist.

It swished across the room, cutting a clean path through the air. For the hundredth time, it landed onto the floor with an annoying thud.

"Dunghead!" Cery spat, losing the last of his patience.

Still swearing amiably under his breath, he whipped a weapon from his coat and flung it across the room, sending his frustration along with it. But as soon as the hilt left his hand, the door swung inward without warning.

"Ceryni, Fa…!"

Eyes widening, the large man at the door froze in his tracks. Barely less than an inch from his face, the dagger flew past, striking the door frame with a precise plunge.

His heart nearly stopped, Cery couldn't believe what he just did. He had almost killed his bodyguard. But the man should have known better than to barge in like this after working with him for a while.

Gathering his wits, he snapped. "You should have knocked, Gol."

Brows raised, the big man side stepped away from the door. "I did." He answered flatly.

"Then you didn't knock hard enough," Cery shot back.

Gol lifted his shoulders defensively before his gaze fell onto the clutter of yerim lying on the floor. It annoyed Cery further when he read the expression skittering cross his face. That made him even more determined to have his own set of yerim made, so he could perfect his usage of them.

This was one of those days for him. Nothing went smoothly. Their prey slipped away. Four tags he had put on the rogue magician, but the man out-witted them instead. Not only had they failed to snuff his hideout, he had taken them on a wild goose chase, and cleverly evaded their trail afterwards. Worse still, the rogue magician would have known by now that he was being eyed. And Cery's employer would not like it at all.

Yanking his dagger from the door frame, he glanced to the side."What is it you came for, Gol?

The big man cleared his throat. "Faren's here."

Cery's stomach sank. "Again?"

Gol nodded. "He's outside."

"Tell him I'm busy." He instructed, though it sounded more like a plea instead.

"That's what I told him." Gol coughed several times to choke back his laughter. "But he said he will wait."

The Thief glared at him.

Excellent, my day can't get any better than this.

The Lonmar has been acting weird lately. Almost every other day he would come by to seek him out as if they were really good friends, taking him to the bath house, always the bath house, then to the bolhouse and drink until the wee hours of the night. Not that Cery disliked his company. No, on a second thought, he does in fact. But that wasn't the point. He just couldn't understand why the Lonmar isn't hooking up with the other Thieves instead. Of all people, why him?

Just thinking of bol made his stomach sick. He simply had too much to drink these days. Besides, those comments Faren frequently made about his body, whenever they went to the baths, are starting to make him feel uneasy. And...molested.

Bumps started to rise on his skin.

He wanted to avoid Faren badly, but, he didn't like the idea of offending him either. It was only in the recent months he had started to gain a little success in the underground world. Although Faren's reputation has been tainted after he broke his bargain with Sonea, he still had a considerable number of men under his influence. And they were the ones providing important leads to the whereabouts of the rogues.

Since he hadn't earned enough to recruit more men of his own, he needed to maintain that connection with the Lonmar to get his job done, and secure his place among the Thieves. For the time being at least, especially after the blunder made by his men today.

Cery smothered a groan. It seems like he had no other choice but pimp himself to Faren again tonight. No, for the entire night.

Suppressing a shudder, he shook his head. Better get done with this. And he dragged himself out of his office.

"Hai Faren!" He greeted him with fake enthusiasm.

"Ceryni!" The Lonmar rose from the chair he was seating and ran his pale yellow eyes over him from top to toe, smiling. "Come here!" He closed the distance between them in a few strides, pulling him a little too forcefully, into a hug.

Cery bit back his protest. He hated it when Faren does that. It is one thing to be hugged by a man, but entirely another to be assaulted by his overpowering stench which smells like some cheap perfume mingled with stale sweat. To make things worse, the Lonmar was as tall as he was short. Measuring up to his shoulder, his face was precisely crushed against his underarm which stank like the slum sewers.

No wonder he visits the bathhouse so frequently. Cery fought back the bile souring his throat. Not that it helps, he still smells rotten.

Then something ticklish caught his attention. Looking closer, his eyes widen in horror. The Lonmar was wearing a sleeveless shirt and Cery could see strands of hair sticking out from his underarms right before his nose.

Dung! He backed away immediately before his stomach took another flip. Forcing a smile, he tried not to show the disgust on his face.

"What can I do for you today, Faren?"

Stupid question, you know what he wants.

"Well…business has been slow these days," The Lonmar shrugged helplessly. "I was thinking perhaps we can get out and let off some steam." He raised his brows at him in a lascivious way. "You seemed to enjoy the other times, so what say you, Cery?"

I would have enjoyed myself even more if you get out of here right now.

"What are we waiting for then?" Cery kept his smile plastered to his face.

Stop whoring yourself!

"Ah...I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." Faren nodded approvingly, grinning at the same time. His teeth were so white that they were probably the only thing which doesn't repulse Cery.

"Come, we should try the Mighty Swords bath house this time!" Faren narrowed his eyes suggestively, then his voice lowered.

"I heard the view there is breath-taking..."

Cery paled.

Mighty Swords? Isn't that famous for…. He couldn't finish that thought as Faren had already swung an arm over his shoulder and dragged him out of the door eagerly.

Evening was just making way for nightfall by the time they struck the bustling streets. The cool air lifted the young Thief's spirit, as it was a relief to be out in the open after the journey through the Thieves' Road. He looked around him, and considered their destination. Never had he patronised the Mighty Swords before. Ignorant ones would think that it was just another place where one could wash and relax themselves at the cost of a few coins. But from what he heard, the hangout is known to be frequented by "gold mines" in search for people who shares the same interest.

Consider it a den filled with howling wolves searching for mates of the same sex.

If it wasn't for the Lonmar's insistence, Cery will not venture into such a domain. Who in the right mind, at least straight man like him, would? Surely Faren is not serious about it. Or was he?

Suspicions nagged at Cery, and his uneasiness grew by the minute.

He stole a glance at the Lonmar, who was making eyes at some prostitutes looking far too old to be in business. Cery wasn't sure what to make of it. More often than not, he had found him to be queer or disturbing at times. And others who knew him speak of the same thing. Perhaps it's because his kind is rare in Imardin, and those pale yellow eyes weren't easy to look at for most people. Not to mention his reputation among the whores. He likes women, a lot, and is rumoured to take on a few at the same time. Although he usually have to spend more coins than the others, as most of the whores were repulsed by his legendary odour.

Despite that, it just occurred to Cery he could likely be a goldmine after hanging out with him in the recent weeks. So what is he exactly?

Cery hoped it wasn't the latter. Otherwise, his virginity would be at risk of being robbed by a foul smelling man and not some inviting young voluptuous woman he had always imagined. But to his dismay, he soon found himself standing before a building with a large signage that reads.

"The Mighty Swords Bath House. Get your swords polished by the BEST in town!"

Dung and rot! Cery cursed. A familiar chill trickled down his spine as the Lonmar winked at him, playfully, then urged him through the entrance. Hair standing on ends, he realised the shop helper had already showed them to an open bath which is something he had not seen before. Typical bath houses offer private rooms to their customers, where a few men could talk and get cleaned at the same time, but certainly not something like this, where one could see the other freely. As if everyone was dying to display their swords, for selection.

Every sensible thought told him that he should leave this place immediately. And from the corner of his eye, he could see heads turning to watch them undress. Wrapping a pathetic length of scrubbing cloth around his waist, he wiggled himself out of his pants, reluctantly.

So conscious of his modesty, he jumped when a hand rested on his bare shoulder. Pulse quickening, he turned around and realised that Faren was already stark naked, smiling at him in a creepy way.

"First time huh?" The Lonmar asked.

Stunned, Cery forced himself not to wander his gaze anywhere beyond his chin. Nodding like a fool, he wasn't even sure if the Lonmar was asking about his visit here or his sexual experience.

"You cannot enter the bath with that thing around your waist." Faren told him with that hair-raising smile on his face.

Cery took a sharp breath, glanced around him. Everyone was watching with curiosity burning in their eyes. He gulped uneasily. Surely he can do this, he tried to convince himself. A bath, that's all he came for and nothing else. As long as he didn't attempt anything suggestive, no one will mistake him for a goldmine.

Most importantly, he needed to stay in Faren's good books, not matter how hard it might be, even if it means taking a bit of risk like this.

"Relax Ceryni…." Faren coaxed with a voice that sounded too silky for comfort. He eyed Cery's chest before his gaze moved slowly downwards, lingering a few disturbing moments between his legs. Then he smiled at him again, nodding his head several times in approval.

Cery felt his blood turn cold. The Lonmar must have mistaken his behaviour for something else. Something he refused to even think about. No matter how desperate he was, there is no way he would whore himself in such a manner. Snapping his eyes away, he grabbed his shirt and pants and shrugged into them, fuming with anger at the same time.

"I'm leaving." He threw a look at Faren which would have drawn blood. Without waiting for him to reply, he turned around and stormed out of the bath swearing that he would do something about his chastity tonight.

"Where are you going?" The Lonmar called after him desperately.

"To the whorehouse!" Cery thundered and left the god-forsaken place.

Author's notes:

I hope you've enjoyed this fic, I've always wanted to write about the Thieves and this challenge came in timely! ^_^

This is my first attempt at writing a funny one, hope I didn't creep you out instead :p

Faren's fans, please don't kill me! Between him and Cery, I would rather make fun of him *LOL*

I'll try to do him justice in my next Thieves' fic, just need to find time to write it!

As always, THANKS to Ralobat for beta-ing and to Laura for allowing me to franchise her "Sword" idea! ^_^

PLEASE do leave your reviews and let me know what you think about this!