The Cruelest Fate
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.
Author's Note: This chapter was literally written in two hours with no beforehand plotting. It was inspired by Valentine's Day and contains a lot of evil mush. If anyone can interpret this, I would love to hear it.
Chapter 3: Simple Comforts
"What is all this," Drizzt said, cocking an eyebrow at the spread before him.
Mazn'reysla merely smiled, taking a look down at his little project.
The small table in Drizzt's treehouse was covered in a cloth of black linen. A gaudy, brass vase adorned with multicolored gems obviously cut from glass was set in the middle, a bunch of tiny, of blue and white wild flowers resting inside. A few tall candles dripped black wax on the cloth, which also rested two simple wooden trenchers. Placed perfectly on each trencher was a sugared pear covered in honey and wild blueberries. A simple glass of what looked like white surface wine was placed next to the trenchers.
Drizzt gave a sly smile and looked at Mazn'reysla's red, cotton robe. His champagne-blond hair was neatly strewn over his shoulders with a few braids dangling over his innocent, ebony face.
"Is this your way of being romantic?" Drizzt asked, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms.
"Consider this an exercise in simple warmth," Maz replied, walking forward. "A celebration of affection; a way to warm the heart in the middle of the cold winter.
Drizzt smiled, though a part of him could not help but be a bit uncomfortable, almost as if he was entertaining a favorite mistress. That was, however, how the high priest had become to him in the past month. At first he was comfortable with the situation, but after he took a whore in Baldur's Gate, the emotion became a bit more complicated. When Drizzt watched Mazn'reysla be taken by Jarlaxle's associate Jaka, it was titillating at first, but the experience created a slow sting.
He didn't want to admit anything to himself, but for some reason Drizzt often thought of Maz as his own; his close friend, his counselor, the most willing way to release any sexual frustrations.
"It is very charming," Drizzt replied with an uncomfortable smirk.
Maz looked at him, those beaming eyes boring through his soul. It was a long look that was even more uncomfortable than others he had received.
"I thought it would make a nice change of pace," the high priest said. "That is what true lovers do besides fucking each other; sit down, have a nice dinner, savor each other's company."
Drizzt gave a long sigh. Why in the Hells was he drudging this up now?
"Relax a little, Drizzt," Maz said in a tone that suddenly turned dark. "I am not asking you to marry me. I am just asking you for a little time."
Drizzt bit his lower lip, noticing the almost hurt look in Mazn'reysla's eyes. He forced a smile and walked forward, looking down at the dripping fruit below.
"It's not poisoned," Maz said, his tone a bit lighter yet no less hurt.
"I never suggested it was," Drizzt replied.
He pulled a simple chair from the table and sat down, smelling the hot honey as it wafted from the pear. He then looked back up at Mazn'reysla, who was now smiling brightly.
That smug little bastard, Drizzt thought. He knew full well Mazn'reysla had interpreted every one of these expressions since he was now grinning.
The high priest pulled out the adjacent seat and sat down. He then raised a small fork from the table, took on a small chunk of juicy pear, and put it in his mouth; clearly chewing and swallowing so Drizzt would be sure it wasn't poisoned.
Drizzt noted every action before taking the fork and taking his own, succulent bite. He paused for a second to savor the perfect sweetness juice pouring from every bit, looking up to see Maz taking a long sip of his wine and licking his lips softly.
"Did you make this?" Drizzt asked, lifting his own glass and taking a sip of the dry wine.
"When I first came to the Surface I started experimenting with its fruits," Mazn'reysla said. "I started stealing fruits from farmers' fields and learned how to coax bees into surrendering their juices. One can do amazing things with so little."
"This is delicious," Drizzt replied with a smile, looking up into the high priests large, red eyes and noting how the simple, orange glow from the two candles danced in them.
He looked back to his wine glass and felt a soft caress against his leg. Mazn'reysla was soon massaging his leather-clad shin with his small foot. The caress felt good. Combined with the sweet fruit and the calm lighting, he was starting to feel relaxed.
"How do you feel about me truly?" Maz asked.
A few drops of wine missed Drizzt's mouth at this sudden development. He only paused for half a second, feeling his mind could best communicate when unprepared.
"You are comfort to me," he said, allowing his mind to express itself in the most honest way.
Maz raised an eyebrow, obviously intrigued.
"A comfort?" he asked with a smile.
"A comfort," Drizzt repeated definitely. "You are…a friend to me. You are also wisdom."
"Though you do not trust me."
"No," Drizzt replied, looking Maz straight in the eyes.
"I don't expect you to," the cleric replied.
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because you want to. Because you want something to trust, though you have been given no reason to trust anything; not companions, not beliefs, not even yourself."
"Do you trust me?"
"No," Maz replied with a chilling certainty. "Though I am dangerously close."
"Why?"
"Because I want something to trust too."
Drizzt nodded, taking another bite and pondering the situation.
"What do you think of me truly?" he asked, his cold lavender eyes meeting Mazn'reysla's.
Mazn'reysla gave him a thoughtful look.
"I see the purest, tortured chaos in a swirl of pure beauty," he replied. "You are like a black rose glowing in its own darkness, though you notice not your own petals."
"Fancy yourself a poet?" Drizzt asked in a more caustic tone than he had meant.
"I fancy myself a keeper of ideas," Mazn'reysla replied, lifting his glass and taking a long sip of wine. "I believe the true role of a cleric, regardless of what god or goddess he or she serves, is a keeper of truest mysteries which becomes a filter on perceptions. I personally believe that bards are only showpieces and spellcasters hurlers of energy they do not understand. Those who dedicate their lives to the divine have a unique perspective on things to say the least."
"What of mere sword swingers?"
"They have the potential to be blind or all seeing. You take that how you will."
Drizzt shrugged and took another bite.
"You are comfort to me," Mazn'reysla said. "You always have been."
"Think about me during lonely nights in Sorcere?" Drizzt said with a dirty laugh.
Maz snickered.
"Yes, you speak the truth," the cleric said in an amused, yet defeated tone.
Drizzt smiled, looking back at the candlelight reflection in Maz's red eyes. He tapped his fingers on the table, then walked them over to Mazn'reysla's hand. One finger gently caressed the soft, black flesh and Maz visibly relaxed.
"Is it all just about sex with you?" the cleric asked.
Drizzt wanted to come up with a snide retort, but he wasn't in the mood. Instead he decided to try honesty.
"You are comfort to me," Drizzt said. "That's all I can say. Take that how you will."
Mazn'reysla smiled, giving him a warm look. He then lifted his fork and took another bite. A small bit of honey dripped on his hand. Drizzt looked down at the tiny spot on the back of the cleric's hand, then raised it gently. His tongue ventured out and he tasted the honey on his lover's soft flesh as his lips gently pressed against the skin.
"Do you love me, Drizzt?" the cleric asked.
Drizzt stopped, though still clutched his hand.
"You are a comfort to me," he repeated with a matter-of-fact look. "That is all I will say."
Maz smiled, receiving the answer he wanted.
"Now the question is," Drizzt said, "do you love me?"
Maz gazed at him, lifting his hand, and gently kissing his fingers.
"You know the answer to that," he said.
Drizzt nodded. Maz kissed his fingers again and suddenly rose. He dropped Drizzt's hand and started walking toward the door.
"Stay," Drizzt called.
"Why?" Mazn'reysla replied, not looking back. "So we can rip each other's clothes off and make a split second decision who will take the other like we always do?"
Drizzt sighed hard, throwing down his fork.
"It's a game with you isn't it?" the fallen ranger asked.
"It's all just about instant gratification with you, isn't it?" Maz said, slowly turning around and looking right into Drizzt's eyes. "If you can't kill it or fuck it, you don't care about it. Considering that I was never your beloved father's friend or your former mortal enemy, you see me as no higher than a whore."
Drizzt clenched a part of the black tablecloth in his fist, biting his lower lip with a long, harsh sigh. Maz looked at him, savoring his obvious anger. He knew going further was dangerous, but he knew Drizzt too well.
"Of course I speak out of ignorance," the cleric continued, walking toward Drizzt. "I can't imagine what it is like to shut out all thoughts lest they destroy me. I don't know what it's like to just stop thinking and live as an instinctual animal."
Drizzt turned his gaze down for a second before looking back up with a defeated smirk. Mazn'reysla read all of it perfectly.
"You forgot to mention how it feels to have your thoughts shut out lest they destroy you," Drizzt replied.
Maz cocked an eyebrow, knowing Drizzt was just beginning to let something out.
"Do you know what it's like to think too much?" the ranger continued, taking his glass in his hand and taking a sip. "Allow your mind to become so involved in your own conscious thoughts that you start believing your own fantasies? Do you know what it's like to force your brain into a pattern of thought it thinks is one part knows is the best course of action while a tiny section completely disagrees?"
"Like convincing yourself you are something you are not?" Maz replied, knowing the exact words. "Torturing yourself into only believing one truth about the universe until that tiny, oppressed part of your brain stages a rebellion?"
Drizzt smiled.
"Believe me," Maz replied, turning around again, "you will learn to think."
Without another word, he walked from the door, leaving Drizzt to regard the empty space with a sad smile before draining his glass and grabbing the bottle on the table.
He would drink a quarter of the contents before stripping and roughly settling in his cot for Reverie. The candles slowly burned themselves out while the food lay untouched on the table. He would lie in bed, then sit up and attempt to enter Trance, though his body protested.
At last he lie down and felt the specter of Trance upon him, just before feeling warm breath against his face.
"So are we going to just fuck each other now?" Drizzt said, slowly opening his eyes and seeing Mazn'reysla kneeling beside him, his robes open to reveal his bare form.
The cleric gave his usual smile. Drizzt sighed, closed his eyes, and laid his head back while throwing the green blanket off his naked form. The first thing he felt was warm, moist lips pressing against his; a soft sensation that made him relax. His tongue gently came from his mouth and passed between the cleric's lips.
With his eyes still closed, he felt the soft press of a body against him; blanketing his form in a warmth he instantly savored. He experienced Mazn'reysla's bare flesh, feeling his own cold body warming with the soft caress. A slender hand caressed his jaw and ran through his white hair. He felt the cleric's other hand gently massaging his eager phallus before pressing himself against him and lying over him like a blanket, his legs twisting around his pelvis as he rubbed gently. The heat grew between them.
Drizzt opened his eyes and met Mazn'reysla's soft, red gaze and feeling his desperate breath hot against his face. His hands raked through those unusual blond locks while pressing his lips against his lover's innocent face. As the press became greater and the heart in their bodies grew, Drizzt laid his head back against the pillow and looked up at Mazn'reysla's gaze.
"Do you know what comforts me, Drizzt Do'Urden?" Maz asked between deep sighs.
Drizzt felt the heat in his lower body rise with the increased press. Maz's hand increased the rush as his other hand caressed his muscled chest and arms. Drizzt smiled, hearing nothing more from Mazn'reysla than his steady breathing.
Drizzt wrapped his arms around Mazn'reysla's body and pressed him in further. The heat rose, but he allowed himself to enjoy it. This wasn't a moment of one trying to take the other. It wasn't just about physical pleasure. It was about savoring Mazn'reysla, everything he was.
Mazn'reysla pressed harder, the rush between them growing. Slender, elven hands caressed ebony flesh on which a slick of salty perspiration had formed. Drizzt pressed his face against Mazn'reysla's shoulder and let out a series of harsh breaths that turned into groans. He felt Maz shudder, then release, a sensation that triggered his own intense rush.
The two paused, savoring each other's bodies for a blissful moment before Mazn'reysla lifted up, both gazing into each other's eyes.
Drizzt was tempted to say something, yet no words came out; only a happy, sighing laugh. Maz smiled wide and caressed his hair gently.
A moment of perfect comfort.