Part 2:

Tattered Pride

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Over a week had passed since Artemis had woken up, since he had had that awkward conversation with Jarlaxle. If his goal had been to push the drow away - and make sure he didn't come back - Artemis had been quite successful. His wounds were healing nicely thanks to a few potions Jarlaxle had sent, but of Jarlaxle himself he had only seen a few glimpses.

The assassin had started to feel more and more uneasy in his room over the last days. However, he didn't really dare to leave his room. Artemis Entreri was hardly a coward, but going to explore the Bregan D'aerthe headquarters alone, unarmed and still not in perfect health would be insane. He was starting to wonder when Jarlaxle would finally talk to him about business, about what he wanted Artemis to do - and he was wondering if he shouldn't insist on returning to the surface soon.

A week spent alone in a small room with nothing to do had also forced the assassin to think about their last conversation ... about what Jarlaxle had wanted from him. And although Artemis was still convinced that he had been right to push Jarlaxle away he felt incredibly lonely ... and, as unreasonable as it was, he felt hurt because Jarlaxle had virtually ignored him for the past days.

Sitting on his bed, his back against the wall and his legs stretched out, he had been waiting for Jarlaxle to come back for a few hours now, deciding that he wouldn't let him get away this time with his excuse of being extremely busy.

He didn't have to wait much longer. A few minutes later, the heavy door opened and Jarlaxle popped through. He searched the room inquisitively until his eyes rested on Artemis, as though he had expected the assassin to be in a different spot, or moving, or something.

The drow mercenary shut the door behind him. "Ah, Artemis." His eyes showed only the polite recognition of an acquaintance. "How are you this day?"

While Artemis found it much more reassuring to see Jarlaxle like this than sitting on the floor and crying like a child Artemis still missed the honest interest that had always been in Jarlaxle's voice before that conversation. He didn't show his disappointment, of course, and simply nodded when the drow entered the room.

"Better," he answered while he was getting up. "But I'm starting to get bored. I'm not used to doing nothing all day long." He managed to keep his voice calm and professional, but the words seemed somehow strange and unnatural to him.

Jarlaxle smiled at him; it seemed a strange, almost sardonically amused smile. "Then take your guards out for a tour among the soldiers. Mingle. Get to know the layout of this headquarters. I have already given your guards orders to do so if you ask."

He seemed poised to leave.

Artemis crossed the small room with a few steps, putting himself between Jarlaxle and the door, although he made sure that his body language remained non aggressive - which was hardly difficult given that he was unarmed.

Jarlaxle gave him a look of mild, blank surprise.

"I need new weapons," he stated. "I am not going anywhere unarmed. And, as you may remember, I hardly speak a word of drow. Nor do I know what my ... status is here. You still haven't told me what you need me for." Artemis grimaced a bit at these words - he hadn't realized how awkward that phrase sounded. Of course Jarlaxle had told him, but that was not what he meant ...

"Weapons?" Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow, mildly chiding. "Artemis, you know as well as I that I can't hand out weapons to every visitor that comes through these doors and still expect to have an organization left. It is hardly cost effective. Since you are not one of my soldiers, it is simply not possible to give you a weapon from the stocks reserved for my soldiers. It is hardly fair."

He smiled. It was not a pleasant smile; it had too much of an edge. "As you know, you are merely a visitor here until I can arrange a way to take you home myself, or arrange safe passage for you back to your homeland." Jarlaxle gestured eloquently. "Now, I know you enjoy standing in front of the door, but it happens to block my exit, and I would most appreciate it if you would move. I have too much business to attend to linger here, much as I enjoy your company." He laced his fingers together innocently. "We're both pragmatists. I'm sure in your experience as a pasha you have learned how much work and elbow oil it takes to keep a good sized organization running at its peak."

Artemis felt the urge to cut that smug grin off Jarlaxle's face, but he hardly showed it, except for a little twitch of his jaw muscles. "Are you hoping then that I just get killed while I am here so you won't have to worry about taking me back to the surface? I could give your weapons back when I leave if you're afraid you would go bankrupt otherwise," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And why are you in such a hurry now when you had so much free time only a week ago?" He didn't know what had possessed him to ask that. He should be glad that Jarlaxle had stopped talking about foolish things like needing him, but instead he almost compulsively tried to return to that subject.

He needed to know ... If anything Jarlaxle had said a week ago had been true then the drow couldn't just have forgotten it now. If he really cared, then he wouldn't have stopped caring so suddenly, and Artemis was desperately hoping for a little sign that Jarlaxle had meant his words. He knew it was pathetic, but he wanted the drow to care.

That jab about free time certainly slapped the expression off Jarlaxle's face. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was a tiny, inexpressive line.

He stared at Artemis in glassy, disbelieving horror. The mercenary had convinced himself that he had robbed Artemis of the power to hurt. He had even taken time to ensure the assassin didn't acquire weapons.

Jarlaxle found out that he could still be hurt.

Artemis returned the drow's gaze before he looked away and shook his head. He didn't know what to think anymore. He had suppressed every emotion for most of his life, and now that suddenly had to cope with so many things at the same time - his defeat in battle, his helplessness and weakness, the insecurity of his current position, and the confusing desire to be close to Jarlaxle - he had no idea what to do. He had never learnt to deal normally with his feelings, he had never learnt how to lose a battle - whatever kind of a battle it was.

"You're running away," Artemis stated after a long silence, quickly deflecting so he wouldn't have to talk about himself.

Jarlaxle's mouth dropped open, and his bottom lip trembled. He suddenly seemed to have trouble breathing. "The things you said the other time you spoke to me hurt. Let me out. Don't hurt me again." He raised a trembling hand to push Artemis out of the way.

Artemis didn't move an inch. He had no possibility to make Jarlaxle stay against his will, but he wouldn't just step aside because Jarlaxle asked him to. "I told you the truth. I destroyed your illusion that I could give you what you think you need," Artemis said, but his calm was only a facade. "I didn't say ... or I said it, but I didn't mean that I don't care." He said that sentence too quickly, as if he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to finish saying it if he took his time. Artemis felt at the same time relieved that he had finally spoken those words and anxious, almost panicked. He had no idea how Jarlaxle would react.

At the first part of Artemis' speech, Jarlaxle's face was suffused with anger over being forced to hear the words he couldn't bear, and it seemed he might do anything from wrecking the room to grabbing Artemis by the throat. It was the second part of Artemis' speech that made him freeze, eyes gleaming, and look at Artemis queerly, as if he were trying to reign himself in and reconcile what Artemis was saying.

He succeeded in reigning himself in, and rocked back on his heels. The anger was fading rapidly from his face.

Jarlaxle narrowed his eyes at the assassin warily instead.

"You claim to me that you tortured me over my involvement with you...over semantics?" He almost shouted the last part of his sentence.

Artemis gave Jarlaxle a look as if he expected him to strangle him right there. "No," he sighed, shrugging helplessly. He didn't like where this was going again, but he couldn't have Jarlaxle believe that he didn't care. "I don't want either of us to make mistakes based on false assumptions," Artemis said after a few moments, carefully hiding behind reasonable arguments.

As long as he could at least pretend that this was rational, he might be able to deal with it. He suddenly stepped aside, away from the door. He had no right to stop Jarlaxle if the drow wanted to leave - either Jarlaxle would stay of his own accord or making him stay would be pointless.

Jarlaxle turned to face him, face shining with disbelief. "Yes. That's a yes. You did. You put me through all that pain just so you could sharpen your ambiguous words. You stabbed me with them. All this worry was over the distinction that you don't have what I need, but you still care." Then he did shout. He knew he could shout at the top of his lungs and it didn't matter. The room was sound proof. "I haven't slept all week! There's nothing I could do! I could hardly eat! I spent my days drinking wine and trying to get to Reverie! I spent hours in my room alone looking at shadows!"

Artemis retreated a step, and his eyes widened a bit. He didn't answer immediately, not sure if he should feel guilty over Jarlaxle's accusations or not, as he was still convinced that he had, at least partially, done the right thing. "This is not just about petty distinctions! Do you think caring turns me suddenly into a different man? Is honesty such a rare thing among drow that it offends you when somebody says the truth?" Artemis almost spat the words out. He had wanted to protect himself, of course, but he had protected Jarlaxle as well, hadn't he? Artemis hated pretending, and that was what Jarlaxle had apparently expected him to do.

"You can't attack me in my own stronghold." Jarlaxle almost let himself be buckled under again. The pain of this last week made him stand up to it. No more, his body told him. We can't take anymore. He held his chin firm, eyes blazing. "You can't tell me you told the truth. You didn't. You played a game that day. A game I didn't know we were playing. I may be drow, but don't you take advantage of me on the subject of truth. I may be immersed in lies in every waking moment of my life, but I know what truth is. You twisted the words you said to me when you were telling me 'the truth'. You told me that I did nothing for you! You said that it was you that only wanted sex out of me, that you didn't care. You said you only touched me to SHUT ME UP." Jarlaxle was breathing heavily, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "If all you can tell me is that I did something wrong because I'm different than you, then YOU SHUT UP!"

Artemis just stared at Jarlaxle, so taken aback that he couldn't react at all for almost a minute. He hardly even blinked. Then he bit on his bottom lip and ran a hand through his hair, as if he needed an excuse to look away, before he turned his back to Jarlaxle. He couldn't stand to look at him now, or he wouldn't be able to say anything at all.

He considered his next words carefully, but when he started to speak he still hated himself for every word that left his mouth and that sounded horribly inadequate. "I didn't manipulate you," he said, and the way he was trying to justify himself almost sounded like a confession to his own ears. "I'm not the least bit more comfortable or more familiar with this than you. I am ... I was confused. I would rather hurt you than have you hurt me the moment you would realize that I'm not special." He wanted to say more, but his voice failed him, and he was ashamed that he showed his weakness so openly. It probably didn't matter anymore, not at the point they had reached by now, but decades of habit had made him incapable of talking about his feelings like a normal human would.

"I tell you that you are wrong because you ask me for something most other humans could do better than me," he added after a few moments he needed to compose himself. He turned back to Jarlaxle and looked at him almost sadly, as if he regretted what he thought they couldn't have.

Jarlaxle listened to him silently, a look of guilt on his face. When he was finished, he asked, "Do you think any other humans would ever want to approach me?" He shook his head. "Drow raids have made humans afraid of us, and they have a right to be. You were not afraid of me. Not unreasonably so. When they see me approach the way I did you, they scream and run away."

He didn't know what to say about Artemis' declaration that he wasn't special. He had never thought Artemis would have such a plunging low self-esteem.

There was nothing he could say to the accusation that he would hurt Artemis. Nothing had swayed the assassin before.

He took a step forward, knowing that if Artemis recoiled he'd feel a stab of hurt. "Please, please just take me in."

In that moment Artemis wanted nothing more than do what Jarlaxle asked, but he couldn't ... and he knew he shouldn't. "This is only going to hurt ... I'm not good at such things." He shook his head, ignoring the fact that he had never even tried to have a relationship with anyone. "You're right about humans, they would be scared ... but you're charming, you could convince them. You could find someone who is actually nice and caring. Most humans would be much better with those 'nice things' than I am, if that is what you want," he said with a sad laugh and lowered his gaze. He couldn't understand why anyone would want him - he was good, even excellent at his job, but there was nothing more about him that was worth admiring or even loving.

"I can't convince you," Jarlaxle said, his voice trembling bitterly. "You're the only person I want to care about me. I don't want someone 'nice and caring'. A truly nice and caring person would probably kill me and put my head on a spike." He shut his eyes, tears shimmering on his eyelashes. "You are forgetting that I still have a job to do, one that includes supporting Houses that send their youths out on drow raids."

He opened his eyes, successfully holding back his tears by a slim margin. It took everything he had. "No, I want you. You sat and talked to me. You smiled and laughed. You listened. You...you..." He licked his lips. They were dry. "You didn't come for the money or the promise to give you whatever you wanted. You came because I convinced you to. I supported you - I saved you - because you weren't what I was expecting when Vierna said she had found a human warrior to fight Drizzt. I was expecting someone dull and superstitious, a powerful warrior by virtue of brute strength and bloodlust. I found you. I wanted to know you." Jarlaxle gestured in frustration. "You were so intelligent! You had so many things to say!"

Artemis couldn't help it, but he liked hearing those words. He had enjoyed talking to Jarlaxle - it wasn't something he could ever do in Calimport: just speak his mind, talk seriously and honestly about his thoughts. He liked the idea that someone liked him as a person, but at the same time it was such an unfamiliar thought that it scared him. Artemis had spent most of his life trying to convince himself that he wasn't a person like other people, but simply an assassin. And Jarlaxle had managed to get through that armor ...

Jarlaxle dropped on his knees in front of Artemis to plead. "Why can't I have you?"

When the drow dropped on his knees Artemis' thoughts were abruptly interrupted, and before he could think about what he was doing he grabbed Jarlaxle's wrist to pull him on his feet. "Don't kneel, I'm not a priest," he said more sharply than he wanted to, but his voice became softer when he added, "I just doubt that you would want to have me if you knew me." Artemis' self-esteem about anything but his fighting prowess and his self-discipline had never been high, and the defeat against Drizzt had taken what was the most important thing for him. He was a failure, and he didn't understand how Jarlaxle could ignore that.

Jarlaxle lifted a hand and pushed his hat off, letting it fall to the floor, and insinuated himself into Artemis' arms. He put his hand over Artemis' hand on his wrist, cupping it. "Then tell me. You have no better way to prove your point if that is so."

Artemis tensed up, but he didn't pull his hand away. "There's nothing to tell," he said almost sadly. He didn't believe Drizzt's words that his life was empty. It wasn't Drizzt, but Jarlaxle who had made him realize that he had almost nothing except his skill with the blades. "You want me because I'm different, because you don't understand me. I'm not ... interesting, or entertaining, or whatever else that could make you like me." He sighed. Usually he would have scolded himself for his self-pity, but right now he didn't have the discipline to make himself shut up.

Jarlaxle reached up with one hand and buried it in Artemis' hair. The other he rested on Entreri's neck. "You are special, and interesting, and entertaining - when you're not so...sad." Sad was another word drow didn't have. "You have a way to make me laugh. You have a...humor. You entertain me even when you are angry about something, because you say such clever things. Please, don't believe that you have nothing but your work. You're not exploring yourself."

It felt strange to have Jarlaxle touch him like that, but it was also nice ... it was comforting. Artemis just enjoyed the feeling for a few seconds, realizing once again that he didn't want Jarlaxle to go away. "I know myself, and I know that I have lost the only thing that made me special. Now I'm just another failure." If he had thought about it rationally he wouldn't believe his words himself, but they sounded right to him now. But then again, Jarlaxle's hands touching him felt right, too.

"What makes you special?" Jarlaxle asked. "Do you know?" He brushed his cheek against Artemis', closing his eyes in that moment and basking in the roughness.

"I was the best; that was the only thing that mattered," he replied. He closed his eyes, leaning in Jarlaxle's touch. It numbed the pain and the humiliation, even now that he was talking about it.

Jarlaxle ran his fingers through Artemis' hair and nuzzled his neck. "The best assassin," Jarlaxle murmured, mostly for his own benefit. He thought about what Artemis was trying to say. "Why? Why was being the best so important? How did it come to mean your life to you? Why?"

Artemis had never talked to anyone about this, but he had thought about it so often that the answers came easily. They were obvious. "Because it was the only way to survive. It was the only thing that made me different from the other children in the gutter ..." Artemis' words might come as a surprise to Jarlaxle - the assassin's manners hardly were those of a poor commoner who had grown up on the street. "To lose was to die," he whispered, not knowing how drow-like that sentence was. "I wanted to be more than the useless filth everybody thought I was."

Jarlaxle was filled with immense sadness. If he hadn't cried so much before, he would probably cry now. "I know," he whispered. "You had to survive. You had to prove they were wrong." He looked into Artemis' eyes. "But that's not who you are."

He held his eyes, even though he knew his next words would be difficult. "Secretly...you still think you are what everyone accused you of being. You show it on the inside. You put up a barrier, an illusion of someone who is the best at what they do and is therefore special. But you can't be that if you don't believe that. That is why Drizzt's defeat of you hurt so much. You want to be more than useless filth. The way you say those words makes me see that you think on the inside there is something wrong with you." He traced a circle on Artemis' chest with his fingers. "What do you think is so horrible that it will cancel out everything you have ever accomplished?"

He put a hand on Jarlaxle's biceps as if he wanted to push him away, but instead he just tightened his grip, not realizing that he was probably hurting him. "I know that something is wrong with me if I make a mistake. If I fail they were right. My whole life was so focused on being the best that it became the only thing that mattered, the only thing I wanted. It is who I am. And Do'Urden ... he has everything I have refused myself, everything I have been refused. He is everything I despise, he is weak, self-righteous, arrogant. He doesn't seem to care if others are better than him or not. And yet he defeated me. He thinks he has shown me that my way of life is empty, but he's wrong. He has only shown me I failed at doing what I chose to do."

Jarlaxle didn't know what to say. He had to think back and analyze Entreri's every word. At first he thought that Do'Urden was a change of topic, but then he decided that Drizzt's life was exactly the point.

"You feel not that his skill was greater," Jarlaxle said. His tone was wondering. "You feel that your way of life has not failed you. You feel as though you have failed you. That you have reached for what will shut them up, to make them stop telling you how little value you have, and you have failed...because you couldn't be greater than what they said you were."

His right hand still grasped Jarlaxle's arm rightly, but he didn't seem to notice. Artemis needed a few moments to realize that he was almost crying - but he couldn't. But his voice sounded as if he could hardly hold back the sobs. "I just ... don't understand. I have done everything, I have sacrificed everything to become what I am, and it wasn't enough. And some little drow noble pushes me right back into the gutter I came from. Doesn't that mean that they were right?" The words were just pouring out - he had already shown Jarlaxle so much of himself that there was no point in holding back anything now. Not to mention that Artemis doubted that he would be able to pull himself together.

"No." Jarlaxle instilled as much firmness as he could into his voice without breaking the low, hypnotic velvet of his voice. He knew what effect this tone had on most, and he was banking on it to keep Artemis together now. "No, they are not right. You have been pushed back into no gutter. You were defeated, yes, but you fell from a cliff. That height is not so far that it pushes you back through the years as well. You are still the person you worked so hard to become. It wasn't enough against Drizzt Do'Urden... for many reasons. None of them have to do with some kind of burdening inadequacy in yourself. Isn't it true that I can see right through you?" He smiled reassuringly. "If I am as good as that, and you know you have evidence to prove that I am, why haven't I seen this thing that you are so confident is holding you back? I don't see any ugly truth inside of you. I see a strong man with a weak heart because someone has told him that he is weak. Something has happened that proved it to you. If you were not convinced by it, you would not be so afraid of whatever you think is weakening you."

"I had convinced myself that I wasn't weak. I had shown it to myself and to everyone else. And he just destroyed everything, he took away everything my world was build upon." Jarlaxle's voice was probably the only thing that kept Artemis calm enough to form any coherent thoughts. "And if what you told me about drow is true, then somebody told him as a male as much that he's weak as they told me. I can't live like this ... I can't live with the thought that I failed, not just once, but at everything." He pulled Jarlaxle closer, clutching to him as if he expected the world to fall to pieces if he had nothing to hold on to.

Jarlaxle held on to him tightly. "No, Drizzt did not have a normal upbringing. He had someone who believed in him, who fed him rhetoric contrary to the Spider Queen's teachings, who told him to be strong and planted the idea of escape in his head. If Drizzt Do'Urden had been as alone as you, he would be a patrol captain in Menzoberranzan."

He'd been trying to get to the heart of Entreri's problem so he could fix it. He didn't mean to tear the assassin apart. The speed at which Artemis was unraveling frightened him.

"You see likenesses that are not there. You and he and different individuals. Not the same."

Artemis was simply incapable of moderating his feelings - either he suppressed them completely, or, if he didn't, he couldn't control them anymore. "But if that is the difference between him and me, it only means that our upbringing counts more than our own work. That I will always be inferior to those who had someone to help them."

"I didn't have someone to help me," Jarlaxle whispered in his ear. "When I was a child, no one supported me or attempted to give me strength. Tell me then how I managed to become as powerful as I am - why Drizzt would have been a patrol captain, but I am still the leader of Bregan D'aerthe?"

"Apparently you were less weak than I am," Artemis replied, his voice sad and yet empty, as if he didn't even have enough strength left to be desperate. He sighed and disengaged from Jarlaxle, giving the drow a confused look. He was still wondering why Jarlaxle was here, why he didn't laugh at him or leave. Artemis sat down on the bed, and while he didn't ask Jarlaxle to join him he didn't send him away either.

Jarlaxle sat down with him, draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled them tightly together. "No," he said, and there was a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face. He winked at Artemis and laughed. "That's not it at all. Do you want to know the secret?" He paused for a moment, and then went ahead. "I had help too. But when I was not a child anymore." He grinned, raising an index finger.

"You see, my friend, it does not matter when you have help. It is the help that defines the course of success. If you think back, you'll see that it's true. I know that when you were a child you had no help, but think about your rising years. I think you'll find that you did receive help. It may be a small amount, but it was there... and even on that small, tiniest amount of help, you went so far. Do you remember?"

Jarlaxle let Artemis think.

"The few people who helped me did it only because they knew I would be successful. They helped me because they were afraid, or because they thought it would be profitable." He leant against Jarlaxle, closing his eyes again for a few moments. He was too tired to argue with Jarlaxle; he knew that the drow only wanted to make him feel better, while they both knew the facts. Artemis had failed, Drizzt had not. It was as simple as that, and no matter how many kind words and clever arguments Jarlaxle would come up with those facts wouldn't change. Artemis had lost the only thing he cared about, and now he was stuck in the Underdark, nothing more than a depressed, weak man who didn't know where to go or what to do.

"Exactly," Jarlaxle said softly, stroking his hair. "So imagine what you would be able to do if you had someone helping you because they cared. Not only about your success, but about your well-being?"

"I don't want to rely on others. Eventually they're only going to betray you." Despite his words he seemed to be grateful for Jarlaxle's caresses. His eyes were still closed, a clear sign that Artemis trusted the drow at least in this moment not to hurt him.

"Ah, but you wouldn't be relying on others; you would be relying on their help," Jarlaxle said. "There is a difference. If there were not, nothing I could say or do would keep you in this room. I know you don't trust me. You've said so. But do you know why you're here? Because you trust my help. If you have the right people helping you, you will be so strengthened by their help that if ever they choose to betray you, you will have become too strong to betray."

Jarlaxle kissed him on the temple. "For instance, if I were to teach you how to weave magical spells, and then betrayed you, you would not unlearn the magical spells you learned. It would be very foolish to betray you under those circumstances, for you could turn everything I gave you against me." He smiled. "For your information, that is why I will not, no matter how long we remain together. I would be fighting myself as well as you, and the odds aren't good that I would win."

Artemis couldn't help smirking a bit at these last words, and he looked up at Jarlaxle again. "Nobody ever offered me that kind of help, probably for the same reasons you wouldn't. But it doesn't matter. Nothing is going to change what happened ... I just don't know how to accept it." His voice was serious again, but he put his hand on Jarlaxle's, softly running his thumb over the smooth skin.

"You are going to change," Jarlaxle said, dropping his smile. "The event will stay the same because that is what events set in time do. It is only yourself that can evolve from this. If you can find something else to replace your 'special' trait, you will be able to accept this loss."

"I do not want to change," Artemis muttered, not caring how childish and pathetic that sounded. "I want to go back to what I had ..." Not that he had been happy back then, but being happy had never been one of Artemis Entreri's goals in life. Things had been easier before he had met Drizzt, before he had met Jarlaxle.

Jarlaxle stroked his cheek. "I know...but you can't. You'll die if you won't change. It is a certainty. And what good will that do you or me?"

Artemis winced and looked away. "I don't know ... I'm not sure I care. What good will it do if I live?" He had always done everything to survive, but until recently he had never been forced to question why. Surviving had been an end in itself, but now it didn't seem enough anymore.

"I care," Jarlaxle said. "If you live, it will prove that you do not accept failure as your eternal state. Look at yourself. You cannot decide as of yet that life is pointless. You are young, well trained, determined. If you do not try again, what do you think you will let everyone say about you?"

"They're not going to say anything. They will forget me, or, like Do'Urden and his friends, think of me as a soulless monster no matter what I do. It doesn't matter. And I don't see any determination when I look at myself, not anymore." He looked Jarlaxle in the eyes and softly stroked the drow's cheek. "You're just trying to cheer me up, but you know I'm right."

Jarlaxle took his hand and squeezed it. "No, I know I'm right, but you're too full of despair to see it. Don't shut me out that way. I am trying to tell you the truth. Your life is not over." He leaned forward and touched his lips to Entreri's in a long, slow kiss.

Artemis shook his head, not even remotely convinced, but he didn't say anything. He returned Jarlaxle's kiss just as softly while he wrapped his arms around the drow's slender body, pulling him closer. Maybe he just needed to forget his thoughts. He couldn't even bring himself to feel bad for seeing this as a distraction.

"It's alright," Jarlaxle said, seeing the flicker of doubt on his face. "Let yourself forget for a while. A distraction is what you need."

He wove his fingers into Artemis' hair and slowly laid him down on the bed, kissing his face. His other hand trailed down Artemis' chest.

Artemis was surprised that Jarlaxle had read him so easily, but at the same time he was grateful that the drow didn't mind. With a content sigh on his lips he lay down, eyes once again closed. The fact that he even allowed Jarlaxle to do this was already a sign that he was changing, he thought for a moment, but he pushed that idea away.

He slid one hand under Jarlaxle's vest, stroking his back. It was such a simple thing to do, but the drow had seemed to enjoy it so much last time, as if it was something special.

Jarlaxle's eyes almost rolled back in his head. He collapsed on top of Artemis, suddenly weak arms failing to keep him propped up on his elbows. He rested his head on Artemis' shoulder and drew lazy lines on the assassin's abdomen with his fingers. His eyelids grew heavy, and a purr started in his throat. "Oh...Artemis..."

I'm so tired...I don't know if I can stay awake. But... but I was trying to do this for Artemis.

Artemis chuckled, but he didn't seem to mind Jarlaxle's weight. He continued to stroke the drow's back, and after a few moments he leant forward and nibbled on Jarlaxle's earlobe, very carefully, afraid that the drow might not like it.

Pleasure coursed through Jarlaxle in such a sharp wave that he tasted it on his tongue; it was metallic. He exhaled raggedly.

The hint of a smile appeared on Artemis' face, and his lips found their way back to Jarlaxle's ear. He licked over the pointy tip and, giving in to a crazy idea that had just crossed his mind, he placed a soft kiss on Jarlaxle's bald head.

He experienced a full body shudder a moment later. "If you do that again," he told Artemis, "I am going to have an orgasm."

He didn't know himself which one of the two he meant.

Artemis gave him a surprised look. "Oh... I enjoyed doing that," he whispered and kissed Jarlaxle on the lips instead. He had his doubts about Jarlaxle's words, but he would never have expected anyone to be so responsive to any of his touches, and Artemis had no intention of ending this so quickly.