It wasn't easy, sneaking past the crowded salon, even for her. It's one thing to make oneself scarce in a night-time forest, or in a dark cavern, especially while wearing camouflage gear and other... commodities. Passing unseen through a room full of people, lit up with several fireplaces and with waiters coming to and fro was another thing entirely, especially when wearing a fluffy, purple dressing gown and carrying a fluffy white towel.

Rina didn't know what would happen if she wasn't in Valen's room in five minutes. Thinking clearly now that she left his... bewildering presence, she realised he had to come up from the baths too, so there was no way he would get there ahead of her. But she was determined to play the game.

This was something new, wasn't it? Valen was always rather shy and reticent when it came to these things, and the first time she'd seen him blush she had to suppress a laugh really hard. The rosy tint on the pale skin was just so absolutely out of place in this man who was, by all accounts, a killing machine.

Maybe the blush blushes all the more because it's embarrassed at appearing in such an unfamiliar territory. Anyway, he's taken quite a different approach now, hasn't he?

Rina's knees went wobbly again just at the memory of Valen's suddenly dominating, commanding aura. She knew, intellectually speaking, that he had a more or less a general's rank in Lith My'athar and that he'd got a bloody drow army to submit to him, but somehow she never, ever suspected he'd get her to do so, too.

But you want to, don't you... One look from General Shadowbreath and you were damn ready to fall to your knees and start apologising like only a girl in heat can...

Well, what's wrong with that? Rina reached the stairs and began climbing them to the top floor suite, wondering if Deekin or Nathyrra were there. Still, doors had locks. Besides, she thought, he took me by surprise. I didn't know he had it in him to get all slavemaster on me, and here he is, giving me orders. And he was smiling. It's just a game.

Well, I hope that at the end of this game you are going to have it in you. It would really not be nice at all if he was screwing the slutty servant right now, would it?

Rina froze with her bare foot in mid-air when this thought arrived in her head. No, she thought. Stupid, insecure jealousy almost lost me a torrent of passionate lovemaking with him right there, and I'm not falling for that again. And, she added conscientously, the girl has every right to voice her desire for him and demonstrate her interest and there's no call for insults.

Yeah.

So where is he? If he's planning to join you in his bedroom shouldn't he be making his way towards it right now? And let me remind you that he didn't actually say-

Shut up.

Rina made her way to the suite as quietly as she could, straining her elven ears for anything suspicious. She heard Deekin's quill pen scratch on paper in his room, and she heard absolutely nothing from every other. Just to be on the safe side, she peeked into Nathyrra's bedroom, and saw only dark shapes of furniture. The same was visible in her own bedroom, so she made her way to the last door.

The suite was made up of nine rooms, in fact : the ante-room that doubled as a salon if the guests wanted to have guests of their own in more private atmosphere, and four doors leading from it to four smaller anterooms with writing tables and chaise-longues and that kind of thing. Important people stayed here, people who met other people and needed privacy with them, but not neccessarily bedroom-type privacy. Well, not always, at least.

Sneaking past the small antichamber leading to Valen's bedroom, she couldn't help noticing that it was entirely undisturbed. Deekin made much use of writing supplies and desks, of course, and Nathyrra had scribed a few scrolls and letters too, by the look of things. Even Rina herself would have at least hung up a cloak on the back of a chair or something, if she had had the chance. But Valen's part of the suite reflected the austere personality not only of a soldier, but of a soldier who spent his life as an inhumane... thing. A weapon.

Nothing was even disturbed in the anteroom. In the bedroom, the bed covers were smoothed down perfectly, although that might have been the staff. The staff was probably not responsible for Valen's flail positioned at the head of the bed, though, and his few belongings – traveling backpack, polishing rags, whetstones, oil – placed with barrack-room neatness on a narrow shelf. There was one unexpected thing among the weapon master's standard gear, and it was a piece of parchment.

Knowing full well that she shouldn't, Rina reached out for it. Shaky, blotted lines crisscrossed the yellowish surface, and they should have been just a mess, but they weren't. She recognised Deekin's drawing style, which was just like his singing : strange and disjointed and yet, creating an effect that transgressed its medium. In this particular case, it was a drawing of her, of that could be no doubt.

She never was bashful about nudity, and after a few decades of typical adventuring life one lost all concerns for it anyway. And she remembered that moment when they fell through the sinkhole in the Underdark and she got half submerged in living slime. Well, the waters there were clean and nice even if cold, and she waved both Nathyrra's and Valen's safety objections to silence and went to clean up there and then. Deekin has taken it on himself to stand guard, or rather sit guard on a nearby stone, and she remembered him scribbling all the time. And shortly afterwards, she saw Valen adjust his leather armor for him, and repair a few clasps...

She looked at the drawing again. It was her, right enough, naked, kneeling in a stream ; her legs were parted for balance, her one hand was cupping her own breast and her other hand was brushing her hair off her forehead. It was clearly a picture of a woman taking a shower, and it must have been pure coincidence that it was also incredibly erotic. Especially since a kobold was the author. It was flattering, too – the waist was narrower, the figure more lithe and enticing. She realised with embarrassment that Deekin has probably seen enough pictures and heard enough stories and songs to know what humans – and semihumans – find attractive.

She put it away carefully, trying not to feel so awkward about this particular matter, and lay down on the bed. So, Valen had bought a nude picture of her from the kobold he obviously disliked... And as early as the beginning of their acquaintaince, too.

And to think how many times she despaired of ever getting close to him. All the nights she obsessed over his every word to and about the Seer, his every glance towards the serene drow. Just now, when she's been watching him, she wondered deep down if he wasn't fantasizing about returning to the Seer, in all his heroic glory, and finally making her succumb to him. And all this time, he's been carrying a nude picture of herself, bought from a kobold bard.

She lay back on the pristine bed and closed her eyes, wondering if he'd ever touched himself thinking of her, or even looking at that picture. They have spent a few nights in the command quarters in Lith My'athar, each offered a small but comfortable private bedroom. And now that she knew that Valen did indeed pleasure himself sometimes – and she knew how he did that, too – she couldn't help wondering...

The memory of his naked body in the pool made her breath quicken, and Rina unwrapped the towel to touch her hard nipples. Eyes closed, she remembered the graceful, precise movement of his tail and the thin trail of red hair on his abdomen. She recalled the heat of his body, the heat that almost threatened to burn. Her other hand made its way between her thighs, stroking the softness within. She imagined it was his hand that teased her nipples, tried to persuade herself it was his touch between her legs... She spread them even wider and worked two fingers into her hot body, whimpering quietly, as much from stimulation as from frustration. Try as she might, she still knew it was her hand and not his hard shaft. Or tail...

Rina moaned softly, thinking about it, imagining what exactly could he do to her with that extra source of pleasure. She moved her fingers inside, keeping them in time with that imaginary tail and felt almost like screaming – screaming his name to get him to her. Now.

Eyes shut tight, she writhed on the bed, desperately clutching at the image in her mind that seemed so near and so far at the same time.

"Valen..." she whispered, trying to summon him into the room as if by magic. "Please, come to me... oh, Valen..."

Suddenly she felt a steel grip on both her wrists, pulling her hands back. A dark shape eclipsed the room, and she was being straddled again, this time with her hands pulled over her head. A large body, heavy yet agile, leaned over her, and an incredibly hot breath teased her ear.

"Well, if you ask so nicely... here I am."

Shadowbreath indeed, thought Rina, just before he bit her ear.