Chapter Two
Artemis stood at the window of the tavern room and stared at the grey night sky with a distracted expression on his face. Jarlaxle was still down at the bar, and the assassin was glad for this. He had regained his composure quickly enough to avoid more questions from his partner, but he was sure that Jarlaxle knew him too well to be fooled by appearances. Artemis, who had become at least a bit comfortable around his so-called friend, felt once again very uneasy whenever he was alone with the drow, always fearing that Jarlaxle might resume this embarrassing conversation about Entreri's bad humour.
The assassin shook his head in exasperation. No matter how calm he tried to appear, his feelings were still a complete mess. He could not understand them, name them, suppress them as he had always done. Just as he ran again the risk of falling back into introspection, he felt a strange tickle in his back, and his perfectly trained instincts told him immediately that he was not alone anymore - even though he hadn't heard anything.
He whirled around, drawing his jewelled dagger and readying it for a throw. When he recognised the drow who stood in the centre of the room, as relaxed as if he belonged there, Entreri lowered his weapon slightly, but he didn't put it away. He knew that a dagger was a rather pitiful weapon against a psionicist as powerful as Kimmuriel, but he didn't really expect the drow to attack him.
"Jarlaxle is not here," Entreri hissed, his voice full of venom and suspicion. He was sure that Kimmuriel had spied on them before coming here, to find out where they were - so the psionicist should know that Jarlaxle was not in his room, but at the bar. And had Jarlaxle not said that the next meeting would be in a week? Why had Kimmuriel bothered to come?
"Is he not?" the drow said and raised an eyebrow, but he didn't even try to look surprised. He studied the assassin carefully and was rather impressed by the human's renewed self-control: Entreri seemed once again calm, his eyes showed nothing but the habitual hatred and suspicion, and when Kimmuriel decently tried to spy on his thoughts, he found them completely blocked. He would need more concentration to pierce those barriers, and his intrusion did not stay unnoticed - and it wasn't necessary at all. He knew everything he needed to know to go through with his little plan.
Entreri furrowed his brow, still holding his dagger in the right hand, barely realising that he hadn't sheathed it. His thoughts were turning in wild circles at the sight of the drow, and it took all his concentration not to show this.
"What do you want?" he growled in a low voice, still speaking common even though Kimmuriel had answered in drow. They both understood each other's language, but normally refused to speak it.
The drow lifted one hand and stroked a strand of white, silky hair out of his face - a seemingly unconscious, simple gesture, but Entreri found his eyes drawn to those delicate fingers and needed, in his opinion, far too long to focus again on Kimmuriel's eyes. A knowing expression appeared on the drow's smooth features, on this face that was as cold and deprived of feelings as it was beautiful.
"What I want? Or what you want?" Kimmuriel seemed to savour every single word, and his lips slowly curled into the hint of a cruel smile. "I know what you've been thinking."
Artemis became so pale that the drow nearly expected him to pass out, and his grey eyes gleamed in a mixture of astonishment, shame, confusion and anger. Kimmuriel took great pleasure in the human's obvious pain, yet he noticed with some surprise that it touched him more deeply than a simple entertainment like this should. He quickly pushed this thought out of his mind - he didn't want his pleasure to be spoilt. He approached him slowly, still carefully, for he had learnt to respect Entreri's reflexes. But the assassin didn't move at all, even his grip on the dagger had become weak.
He only stirred when he felt a soft, warm hand on his stubbly cheek, caressing him with a tenderness that didn't go with the cruel expression in Kimmuriel's red eyes. Entreri tried to pull away, but his back already touched the wall. And the drow's fingers felt incredibly good, even better than he had imagined. He enjoyed the feeling for several seconds, before he batted Kimmuriel's arm aside, a nearly panicked look on his face.
"Don't touch me," he hissed, but his refusal sounded feeble even to his own ears. Kimmuriel didn't seem too convinced either, because he only laughed and slowly took Entreri's dagger from his weak grasp. The drow didn't bother to answer, but only stepped closer until his chest touched the assassin's, his hot breath brushing the human's face.
Entreri's barely maintained discipline failed completely when Kimmuriel's lips touched his own, softly exploring and caressing, while he rubbed his slim body against Entreri's. The drow was himself surprised how much he enjoyed this - in the beginning, he had deemed it a necessary sacrifice in order to tease the human, but now he realised how good Artemis' lips tasted, how arousing the touch of this strong, muscular body was. Kimmuriel nearly got carried away, and it was Entreri who broke the kiss and shoved the drow brutally away in another attempt to end every physical contact.
Kimmuriel frowned - he was not used to being rejected, but neither had he expected this to be easy. Yet he virtually felt the assassin's uncertainty, his hesitation, the struggle between his desire and his principles. The psionicist probably understood Entreri's feelings better than Entreri himself.
Artemis looked at Kimmuriel for a moment before he averted his eyes, incapable of saying anything. He was used to a cruel, almost unbearable reality, but what he had just experienced was even more beautiful than his daydreams about the drow. How could he resist those urges that seemed to be more than hollow promises, how could he resist now that he could anticipate what pleasures awaited him?
When Kimmuriel approached him again, Entreri's attempt to push him away was weak. He tensed when the drow pressed himself against him, quietly whispering in his ear.
"Calm down, Entreri. If I were planning to kill you, I would have done it already," he said in this smooth, melodic voice, and Entreri had to admit that he was right. Kimmuriel could kill him with a thought, he didn't need to distract him in such a way. The human bit on his lip, refusing to look at the psionicist or to answer him. He simply stood there, stiff and tense, trying to regain control over himself and the situation. A desperate try, when Kimmuriel was still so close to him, caressing him with too nimble fingers, softly sucking on his earlobe.
Artemis closed his eyes for a moment. His reason, his discipline, his principles told him to end this immediately, no matter how much he had enjoyed the beginning, but his emotions demanded from him to use the opportunity instead of questioning the drow's strange, unexplainable behaviour. While Artemis had ignored his feelings successfully for almost four decades, he found that he couldn't simply ignore them now. To be honest, he didn't even want to. Maybe he could forget Kimmuriel once he had obtained what he had been desiring so passionately. Maybe he only needed to satisfy those obsessing urges to get rid of them.
Reassured by this justification, Artemis finally gave in to his lust, forcefully wrapping his arms around Kimmuriel's body. It surprised him how frail and delicate the powerful drow felt in his arms. The psionicist was barely smaller than Entreri, but his fine body seemed almost thin to the fighter.
He claimed the drow's lips, kissing him hungrily with all those pent-up longings of the last days. Long, nimble fingers opened his shirt and began to caress his chest with obvious fascination. Kimmuriel had never been so close to a human, and he spent several minutes contemplating and exploring the finely muscled torso, the numerous scars, the fine line of black hair on chest and belly. Entreri wasn't hairy for a human, but it was enough to intrigue the drow without repelling him.
Encouraged by Kimmuriel's gentle, nimble caresses, Artemis quickly freed the drow of his shirt and crushed him again in his arms. Kimmuriel's lips and teeth wandered over Entreri's shoulders and neck, marking his skin, before he kissed him again on the lips.
Their passionate kiss was interrupted when Kimmuriel suddenly pulled back, freeing himself completely of the human's embrace. Artemis understood the drow's withdrawal a split second later when he heard the loud ring of heavy boots on the corridor. Jarlaxle's boots.
Kimmuriel reacted amazingly fast: he grabbed his shirt, glared at Entreri with obvious hatred, and reached into his mind, quickly opening a gate and stepping through it. The bluish gleam had just vanished when the door was opened and Jarlaxle stepped in, finding himself confronted with a extremely odd sight.
Artemis Entreri stood near the window, shirtless and dishevelled, breathing heavily, with several reddened spots on his pale skin. Jarlaxle couldn't help but notice the bulge in the assassin's breeches. He felt that he had just walked into something very personal and intimate - but his companion was alone.
The assassin seemed just as confused as the entering drow, but his expression turned quickly into an angry scowl. Before Jarlaxle could say anything, Entreri rapidly buttoned his shirt, trying desperately to regain some of his dignity.
"Will you shut the door!" Entreri snarled, and Jarlaxle realised only then that he hadn't closed the door behind him. He did it quickly, but he couldn't take his eyes of his partner. He wondered what, or rather who, had brought the calm assassin in such a state.
"I'm sorry, Artemis, I didn't want to disturb you," Jarlaxle started, taking off his hat and looking again around as if trying to detect the human's lover.
"But you did," Entreri cut him short. "From tomorrow on I want my own room."
The drow was somewhat hurt by these words: they had always shared one room in taverns, and Jarlaxle had been the one to leave for a few hours if he wanted a bit of fun with some barmaid. But the drow was far too curious to sulk.
"As you wish, but ... what were you doing?" Jarlaxle asked in obvious confusion, still standing in the middle of the room while Entreri took off his boots and lay down in his bed, determined to feign fatigue and evade more questions - after all, he could very well imagine how ridiculous and absurd this scene had been.
The only words Jarlaxle could discern in Artemis' mumbled response were "none of your business". The drow sat down on his own bed and looked at the assassin's back, noticing that the finely honed body almost trembled - even though Jarlaxle couldn't say anymore if it was still with lust or with anger. Nor could the drow think of any reason why the assassin would start a tryst in their shared room, knowing that Jarlaxle could come back any second. And who had been his partner, someone who managed to arouse and distract the cautious man so much, and who was apparently able to disappear in the blink of an eye?
"Artemis?" His voice sounded almost pleading. He couldn't bear it when his friend ignored him.
"Shut up!" There it was again, this ring in the assassin's voice that Jarlaxle had heard several times in the last days, this ring that showed him so clearly that his friend wasn't well, that he needed help - and that he would not accept it. But obviously he had accepted someone to touch him in a most intimate way, Jarlaxle thought with a bitterness that surprised himself.
He felt ... Yes, what? His feeling reminded him a bit of the envy he felt when someone possessed a magical item he wanted. Was he jealous? No, that's absurd, he scolded himself. He knew that he would never be this close to Artemis, no matter what foolish hopes he had harboured in the last days. There were lines when dealing with Artemis Entreri that nobody, not even Jarlaxle, dared to cross. Jarlaxle knew that he would lose Artemis' friendship and what little of the man's trust he had gained if he tried to seduce him, and he had decided to forget how much the human attracted him. Until now, he had managed it quite well, all the more as Entreri seemed to be mostly celibate.
But now, seeing that his companion had obviously welcomed another lover, Jarlaxle felt his desires resurface. If Entreri gave this to others, why shouldn't he give it to him? If Entreri wasn't so jaded that he had lost every sense for sexual pleasures just as he had lost every sense for fine food and drink, why did he turn to someone else than his only friend?
Looking at Artemis' back, at the thick black hair that curled softly in his neck, Jarlaxle realised that he was indeed jealous. He could accept to renounce his desires as long as Artemis stayed alone, but he could not accept that someone else obtained what he wanted.
Artemis always said that he hated Jarlaxle, but the drow didn't believe him. If Artemis hated him, he wouldn't have travelled with him for several months. He wouldn't have put up with Jarlaxle's often annoying behaviour. He wouldn't have helped the drow every time some superstitious humans wanted to attack him. He wouldn't have spent countless evenings in long conversations with Jarlaxle, never speaking much, but nonetheless showing more of himself to the drow than to every other person he had known, with the exception of Dwahvel maybe.
No, Artemis Entreri didn't hate him, no matter how much he grumbled about his 'mad' and 'annoying' companion. But he was so traumatised by a life full of loneliness and betrayal that he couldn't trust Jarlaxle, and the drow was afraid he could push him too far and anger him too much if he tried to manipulate Entreri the way he manipulated everyone else around him.
But now? Was it not his duty to help Artemis, even if the human didn't want help? Should he not try at least to give him what he needed? Someone else might hurt Artemis even more, and Jarlaxle couldn't allow that.
The drow often befriended people, he easily called them his friends, but when he had come to the surface he had learnt that a friend was more than only a profitable partner, and he had realised that the only true friend he had ever known had been Zaknafein. And now Artemis.
Jarlaxle had let Zak down, he had allowed him to stay at House Do'Urden instead of tricking him into joining Bregan D'aerthe, and thus Zak had stayed and suffered and eventually died because of his son. Because he had loved someone else more than Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle wouldn't make the same mistake again, he wouldn't allow Artemis to love someone else more than him, because it could only end badly. The drow wouldn't entrust his friend's well-being to someone else, he would take care of it himself.
He looked back to the assassin, whose breathing had become more steady, and Jarlaxle wondered if Artemis was asleep - how long had he been musing about this? He stood up and silenced his boots with a thought before he went over to the other bed: Artemis slept, even though face still seemed strained.
For a moment, Jarlaxle wanted to bend over and kiss him, but he knew that Entreri was a light sleeper and would notice it. Jarlaxle's usual smile found its way back to his lips when he returned to his bed, undressed and lay down. Tomorrow he would try to find out what Artemis had on his mind, and with whom he had spent the evening. He would show him that he really cared. Even Artemis Entreri was a human being that needed a friend, and their relationship had already evolved much in the last months.
Jarlaxle was confident that he could succeed. After all, Artemis Entreri would be the first person to resist his charm.
Jarlaxle's reverie was interrupted by a soft whimper from the other side of the room. The drow sat up immediately, curiously looking to Artemis' bed. It was still night, and the human seemed to be asleep, but he apparently had quite disturbing dreams, turning in his bed and sometimes moaning silently.
The drow was worried - Artemis hadn't slept well in the last nights, but his sleep had never been so obviously uneasy, and he had never awakened his partner. Jarlaxle silently stood up and went over to the bed, eyeing his companion, wincing at the sight of the helpless, confused look on his face.
"Artemis," he whispered, softly touching the human's shoulder. The assassin jerked up, wide-eyed and so startled that he even failed to reach for the dagger on his nightstand. He blinked and furrowed his brow, then looked around in the room before he focused again on Jarlaxle.
"Something wrong?" he growled, wondering why the drow had awakened him in the middle of the night.
"I think you should answer me that question," Jarlaxle said mildly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and noticing with some disappointment that Entreri backed off to bring more distance between them. "You were grumbling and moaning in your sleep, my friend."
Artemis seemed surprised and ashamed at these words, and he was even more ashamed of his dreams, which he could remember only vaguely - but he knew that they had involved Kimmuriel and the drow's impossibly soft lips.
"As I said, I'll have my own room from tomorrow on, so you won't have to worry about that anymore," the assassin snarled, trying in vain to mask his feelings with his usual anger.
"But I do, Artemis. I want to understand you. I want you to be fine."
"I don't care about your opinion on me," Entreri hissed. "Least of all in the middle of the night."
"This is not about my opinion on you, but I can see that you are not well. You're not like yourself, you're troubled, you're nervous. And even if you don't like to admit it - you need to talk about it," Jarlaxle explained seriously, smiling as always, but his gaze was fixed on Artemis' face.
The assassin glared at his partner, and his deep voice, even though it remained low, became sharper and cynical.
"Oh, I see, you want to help me again. Just as you wanted to help me when you imprisoned me in Menzoberranzan, I suppose, and when you forced me to work with you in Calimport. You probably also wanted to help me when you involved me in your conflict with your lieutenants, and you wanted to help me when you led me to this god-forsaken place! And you certainly wanted to help me when you made me confront Do'Urden again even though I had almost forgotten him!" Entreri said. "If I'm troubled then it's because of you, because you force yourself upon me, because you tamper with my life, because you're tormenting me with your endless questions without ever telling a word about yourself! You blame me for masking my feelings and thoughts, but you're the one who is hiding behind his tireless smile and witty remarks! And you are the one who brought this damned psionicist into my life!"
Jarlaxle was perplexed. So perplexed that he didn't realise immediately how out of place the last sentence seemed. He doubted that he had ever heard Artemis Entreri speak so much in such a short time, that his friend had ever revealed so much of himself in such a blatant way. The human trembled, but not only with rage, but also with disappointment and shame. If Jarlaxle hadn't known better he would have said that he even saw a moist glimmer in Artemis' eyes.
Was Artemis right? Jarlaxle wanted to fend off the accuses out of habit - he wasn't used to conceding his errors, but neither could he fully ignore what Artemis had said. If the reticent human had bothered to say it, then it had to be important.
"You wrong me, Artemis. I've always wanted the best for you ... I was, and I am convinced that you need to talk to someone, but you do not, so I thought it necessary to prod you to talk. We started as partners, but now we're friends. Friends do help each other, don't they?" Jarlaxle said quietly. His words completely were deprived of their usual wit and eloquence and seemed almost pleading. He couldn't bear the thought that the human had meant his words, that he really blamed him for everything.
"I know nothing about friendship," Artemis snorted, looking at the drow and trying to read his face in the darkness. "But if friends help 'each other', then you should stop lying to me."
Jarlaxle nearly gasped at these words. What had his surprising companion meant now? Did he know what Jarlaxle had been desiring and suppressing for months? Was he hinting that he wanted Jarlaxle to show these feelings? A tiny flicker of hope rose in him, and he smiled again, finding back to his old self.
"I'm not lying to you, my friend ... I am trying to do my best to make you feel better," he whispered, softly touching the assassin's cheek with delicate fingers.
Either he had surprised Artemis too much, or he had misunderstood his words completely. The human did not only evade his touch, but he virtually jumped out of bed and stared at Jarlaxle in a mixture of shock and incredulity.
"Are you -" he started, but his voice failed him, and he needed a few moments before he could speak again. "Have you all gone mad? First he and now you!"
Jarlaxle slowly stood up and walked over to the assassin, shaking his head in confusion and narrowing his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
Artemis realised only then what he had said and quickly tried to draw Jarlaxle's attention from the slip.
"I understand you very well, you know? You invested so much time in me, trying to gain my trust, making me tell you things about me, testing how you could manipulate me, and now you want something back. You want your investigation to be profitable. You want me to confide in you, and now you even want me in your bed. Don't tell me anything about friendship, Jarlaxle, as long as you see others only as a potential source of profit or entertainment," Artemis said, knowing how unusual those words were out of his mouth.
A year ago, he would have never said, not even thought something like this. He would have thought it normal that people saw him as a tool, not as a person, and this only proved him how much Jarlaxle had already manipulated him, making him believe that he was different, that they were friends.
You disappoint me. Artemis didn't say it - he already regretted that he had spoken so openly to Jarlaxle, that he had shown his emotions so blatantly. But his eyes, nearly black in the dark room, made it clearer than any words could have. Jarlaxle opened his mouth, but for once he couldn't think of anything to say except for feeble, hollow denials that would have made things even worse. So he sighed and kept silent, looking after Artemis when the assassin dressed and left the room.
His only consolation was that Artemis didn't take his belongings with him.
A/N: Reviews are very much appreciated. I don't like to write this at the end of every chapter, and I won't, but this story is quite hard to write, so feedback would make me even happier than it does normally. :-)
