Chapter 2: Impossibilities

Aramil Galaedon felt a sort of tremor within his very gut. This was terribly, terribly wrong.

The beautiful elven maiden sat with her back facing him, but he knew that a serene smile was upon her face. She had stopped someone she deemed too young from leaving the haven of the Moonwood, and now she rested easily. Her conscience was clear, and that was why he hated her so much.

If she had truly cared about his plight, then maybe he could forgive her. A tear fell down his face. Logically he knew that she had done this simply for his protection, but Aramil Galaedon had never truly been guided by logic before. His father was in danger, he was sure of it, and so he was going to help. She had said that she would send word, but he did not believe her. These elves did not care for the strange drow-blooded elf that had lived with them for so long, but Aramil did.

That drow-blooded elf had been his foster father, and the fact that he was also the one that had killed Aramil's parents did not matter. Trildarth had taken care of him and that was all that really mattered.

He spent a moment listening to the world around him. It all seemed a mockery now, and the owl hooting in the distance was asking, in entire indifference, who Aramil Galaedon really was. The gentle breeze through the trees seemed to be telling him to stay underneath the boughs of the Moonwood, where everything was calm and peaceful. How could he leave this place?

Aramil nearly gave into his desires then. He wanted to stay, but he needed to rescue his father. The young elf forced memories of Trildarth into his mind, reminded himself of the good times and reminded himself that there really was nothing for him without that relationship.

He would miss his lover, and he would miss his home. With sudden courage Aramil accepted that, and he came forward. Before he could lose faith in his decision, before he could allow himself to think through the consequences any longer, Aramil Galaedon completed his first assassination. It was clean, and she only barely had time to open her eyes before she fell to the floor.

For a moment it seemed as though all he could see was the blood on the edge of his sword. He felt dizzy, and adrenaline rushed through him. The blood began to pool around the edge of his feet, and the true severity of what he had just done finally came. Aramil barely turned away before he retched. The adrenaline of just moments ago had been replaced by sickness, and deep sorrow.

A great loneliness engulfed him. He now had no blood family, but he did have Trildarth. New resolve filled him and, standing just a little straighter, Aramil Galaedon left the Moonwood. He did not look back. The last thing the young elf needed was to be reminded that he was leaving it for the first time, and probably the last time all at once. He simply wished a quick and silent goodbye to his lover, and really she and his father were all that he had ever needed.

Evening was falling and the two companions had decided to stop a little early. Jarlaxle had said he wanted to watch the sunset, but Artemis Entreri highly doubted that to be the motive. True enough Jarlaxle started talking the moment they sat down to dinner. At first it was all the normal things, and then…

"You still have not answered my question."

"I am not going to answer your question," Entreri responded sourly back.

"You are taking me along without saying anything," Jarlaxle noted in a patronizing tone. Even he was caught by surprise when Entreri broke out in mirthless laughter.

"You chose to come with me," the human noted, "and you have always dragged me along without so much as a word. It is my turn."

"Your turn?" Jarlaxle asked, a curious look crossing his angular face.

"Jarlaxle, do you truly expect me to follow you like some gentle lamb? Besides, if you can get me exiled from my homeland and drag me across the continent than I can take you to a forest."

"An elven forest and one too close to old enemies for comfort."

Entreri suddenly understood Jarlaxle's true concern and shook his head. "This has nothing to do with Do'Urden or the halfling." He looked to the north. "Does that settle your fears?"

"That is all you will simply tell me," Jarlaxle pouted.

"Yes."

The drow looked to their small fire. "I do not suppose you could fetch us a rabbit, my..."

"...do not say it..."

"...friend."

"Why do you insist on calling me that?"

"Is it so bad when it is true?"

Entreri glared at Jarlaxle, incredulous and angry. "Is it true?"

"What do you mean, is it true?"

"It is a simple question, Jarlaxle."

"As is the question of why you wish us to go to the Moonwood!" Jarlaxle exclaimed.

Entreri stood up. "If you want rabbit then I will find you rabbit," he stated simply before walking into the shadows. Jarlaxle sighed.

Entreri had been notably grumpier as of late and Jarlaxle could not help but wonder what was causing it. True enough the man was never exactly a beacon of sunshine but the clouds constantly over his head had begun to rain. The drow leaned back and examined the stars as they began to show, marveling at how much light could always be found upon the surface world.

The fire seemed to be dying down and Jarlaxle prodded it to keep it ready for the rabbit. The flames danced in a way that was far more playful than the flames of a priestess's brazier and it had never occurred to him how much flame represented the emotion of a place. The flames grew just a little brighter.

"Are you simply going to stare into the fire all evening or are you going to help me prepare dinner?" Entreri asked gruffly as he stepped into their camp.

Jarlaxle looked up, startled and looked down to the flames again. They had not died down back to their previous level and seemed excited. Entreri sat down across from him and began preparing the rabbit.

"It would appear that the flames await a feast," the drow commented. Entreri looked at the dancing fire and his look seemed strange to his perceptive companion, but Jarlaxle could not quite place it. "After days of trail rations a fresh rabbit seems a feast!"

"You have an item which could provide us with a literal feast," Entreri muttered.

"Ah, but it does not seem appropriate!" Jarlaxle flung his hands up to the sky as though to catch the stars. "This landscape does not call for a feast but for a simple meal over a campfire."

"You are far too poetic," his human companion criticized.

"Better poetic than bland!"

Entreri set the rabbit over the fire. "You are too easily excited."

"Perhaps, but it is too difficult with you."

Entreri leaned back, resting much of his weight on his palms. He looked calm and it occurred to Jarlaxle that the man was more in his element in the wilderness than in the city. Calmness suited Artemis Entreri and the only thing which would have matched him better would have been still and burning sands.

The two companions sat in silence as the rabbit cooked, Jarlaxle fidgeting from time to time in quiet discomfort, or giving a slight jump when the fire gave a sudden pop. It made Entreri smirk slightly, but he resisted any urge he might have had to say something to the drow. It seemed like he might actually manage a quiet evening, but once Jarlaxle had eaten his fill Entreri quickly saw how futile that hope had been.

"You are a surprisingly good cook, but I find that you use too many spices." There was a short pause, very short, as Jarlaxle waited to see if Entreri would respond. "It is interesting that here rabbit is the primary travelling meat while in the underdark we often eat bats, and in that case raw. I must say that the common use of fire improves a meal considerably, although your food is almost always burnt."

"Then cook it yourself," came the bored response.

"But I am the guest!"

"Pest," Entreri corrected, now actually looking his companion in the eye.

"A pest of a guest?" Jarlaxle offered almost hopefully.

"Whatever you may be, worth the trouble is clearly not on the list."

"Ah, but you must keep me around for some reason or other."

"I would wager that it is simply because you are impossible to get away from."

Jarlaxle laughed, caught his breath, and opened his mouth again. Entreri groaned, marveling at how impossible it was to have a quiet evening with his companion.