Chapter Ten

When Artemis came back to their room he dropped his bag on the floor, locked the door, and turned only then to Zaknafein. The drow was sitting on the bed, clad in his leather breeches and a half-buttoned shirt, as if someone had interrupted him while he had been undressing.

He glimpsed at Artemis for a moment, eyes moving quickly like those of an animal on the run, and turned his head away before the assassin could read his expression. Artemis furrowed his brow in confusion - he had seen Zaknafein angry and upset, but never crestfallen, not even when he had spoken about Vierna. Artemis came closer, warily, and sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving as much distance between them as possible.

"Zaknafein?" he said when the drow remained silent. His voice sounded much calmer than he felt.

Zaknafein looked up, hesitated, licked his lips nervously, and eventually said, "Jarlaxle was here."

There was a finality in his voice as if that alone should explain everything. Artemis shifted uncomfortably. The mercenary was trouble, but what could he possibly have told Zaknafein to depress him so? Maybe something had happened to Drizzt? Artemis just raised a questioning eyebrow.

"He said I should tell you," the drow continued in a small voice. Zaknafein being shy and embarrassed was as strange as Jarlaxle trying to appear innocent.

"Tell me what?" Artemis said impatiently. The drow gave him a long, thoughtful look. Paradoxically Artemis' confused, edgy anger was less troubling than Jarlaxle's understanding smile or Drizzt's wide, innocent eyes. Artemis didn't make him feel guilty.

"About me … about me being insane and unpredictable and bound to hurt everyone I like although I don't mean to," Zaknafein said hurriedly, trying to get it over with. He accelerated even more when he added, "I don't want to make the same mistakes as with Jarlaxle and Drizzt."

He looked away and waited for Artemis to realise what this meant, to get angry, to snap at him. The assassin didn't react immediately, his mind only slowly catching up with the rattled words in a foreign language he still wasn't perfectly fluent in. When he was finally confident that Zaknafein had really said what Artemis thought he had said, he gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Are you seriously telling me that you are insane, as if that were some novelty I didn't know about?"

"But … I've been so calm since you've met me, you can't know -" Zaknafein started, dumbfounded.

"Zaknafein, you couldn't act sane if you tried to. Your eyes alone tell me that," Artemis snorted. "I've seen you kill that priestess, I've had you snap at me for no reason at all, I know what to expect from you."

He sounded much more confident than he really was. He couldn't deny that Zaknafein's instability worried him sometimes, but it certainly wasn't anything new. It was something he had realised in the first days of their acquaintance, and he had almost got used to it over the last weeks.

"No, you don't," Zaknafein whispered, again with that haunted look in his eyes. "I'm worse than that. I can't control myself sometimes … and then I do things I regret later."

"Oh, please, you managed to control yourself just fine so far!" Artemis snapped. He was deeply unsettled, not by what Zaknafein had said, but by the fact that he said it. It was almost as if Zaknafein was … trusting him, or at least caring enough about this to be honest to the point of revealing his own fears. It was frightening, and the only thing Artemis could do to deal with it was to play it down.

"Maybe you were worse when you had to deal with Menzoberranzan and with all those priestesses. That's over now. End of story," he said curtly.

Zaknafein started to object again, but Artemis didn't let him.

"Do you want me to get angry? I didn't let you start this just so you would weasel out of it as soon as your fears caught up with you. You were the one who told me not to run away as long as I was still winning."

Zaknafein didn't know what to say anymore. Anger and rejection were what he had expected, or even worse, pity. He definitely hadn't expected Artemis to accept it and tell him to get on with it.

The assassin cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, as if he was suddenly wondering if his words had been wise.

"You didn't seem all too worried about going mad and hurting me over the past weeks," he said. Zaknafein shrugged bashfully, and at the same time he relaxed visibly.

"I never thought about it. It didn't seem important at the time."

"But Jarlaxle reminded you," Artemis said darkly, his frown deepening even more when Zaknafein nodded. "That bastard. You should have known he's just messing with your head. Probably he was growing bored, once you … succeeded -" There was a short embarrassed pause before Artemis quickly continued, "I suppose we weren't entertaining enough anymore, so he just wanted to make you doubt and see how you would react, how I would react. Keep the show interesting."

"Sounds like him," Zaknafein admitted, but he shook his head. Artemis' eyes were gleaming with that confused mixture of emotions that seemed to replace the usual calm whenever the human allowed himself to give in to his feelings. There was anger, yes, there was always anger, but Zaknafein knew that it was directed at Jarlaxle, not at him. And when Artemis' eyes met Zaknafein's there was something more … some kind of longing, as if Artemis just wanted to hold on to what he had. Zaknafein knew that Artemis was even more uncomfortable with his feelings than him, but right now the human was trying to deal with them instead of running away.

"If there's one thing I understand, Zaknafein, it's anger. Maybe I would have made the same mistakes in your situation," he said. It was easier in a foreign language, especially in one that sounded as unsentimental as drow. He would have felt like a romantic fool saying those things in Common.

Zaknafein was amazed at how well Jarlaxle seemed indeed to understand Artemis. The assassin's word were an almost perfect echo to what the drow mercenary had said. He's not going to want to leave you for admitting that you get angry sometimes and hurt people. It's an emotion he can understand. He's run his life by it.

"You're doing fine now," Zaknafein stated, much calmer now.

"So are you." Artemis shrugged. "Do you think last night would have happened if I even considered the possibility that you would suddenly attack me?"

Zaknafein couldn't help but smile, remembering how Artemis had given up every pretence of self-control last night. They had even slept in one bed … That someone as cautious as the assassin trusted him at least a little had to mean something.

"Aren't you worried at all?" he asked nonetheless.

Artemis almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. He considered not answering it, like he would have done only a few days ago. But after what had just happened he knew that he had to return Zaknafein's honesty.

"I am … uneasy because I shouldn't even consider taking such a risk with you. But I'm not worried about you hurting me in a fit of anger. You understand me too well to believe that I would forgive you instead of hacking you into little pieces."

He could only hope that he had said the right thing. Zaknafein, once again, just stared at him. He was still thinking about what Jarlaxle had said. He's not going to want to lose you, because of some stupid, self-absorbed certainty that you shouldn't be with him! You are perfectly capable of controlling yourself.

As much as Jarlaxle was a meddling, annoying bastard, sometimes he was right. So far he had always been right about Artemis, about them. He had known that what Artemis wanted was honesty, and that he would be able to deal with Zaknafein's admittedly difficult character. Unlike Drizzt and Jarlaxle, Artemis refused to be the victim of Zaknafein's warped affection.

The moment you find out Artemis is capable of forgiveness you are going to hurt him, because that won't stop him from being with you. But Artemis wasn't capable of forgiveness … and that was what made this insanity possible.

"Thank you," Zaknafein sighed. He knew that Artemis had no idea what he was being thanked for, but it didn't matter. It was enough that Zaknafein knew.

He rubbed his eyes, as if to make the strange dream of the past hours go away, and grinned at Artemis.

"Now, I promised you something, didn't I?" he asked in the same seductive, confident, slightly mad lilt as always, as if nothing had happened. Artemis blinked.

"After we sparred," Zaknafein explained and finally moved closer to Artemis. Without hesitating even for the slightest moment he started to unbuckle the assassin's leather vest.

"What, now?" was all Artemis managed to say.

"Why not? You just convinced me that I was worried about nothing. So why should I spend the rest of the evening brooding, knowing that brooding is what makes me go insane?" Zaknafein said lightly.

Artemis tried to glare, but eventually he just grinned.

"You're unbelievable, Zaknafein," he said with a suppressed chuckle. The look he gave Zaknafein was almost affectionate.

"I take that as a permission to go on."

Zaknafein was smirking, no, smiling, if not beaming. His mood swings again … as unsettling as they were Artemis was almost getting fond of them. One thing Zaknafein would not, could not be, was boring. And as much as Artemis hated it when he was incapable of predicting other people's behaviour, he liked it in Zaknafein. Being with the drow was a different challenge compared to anything Artemis had known until then. It was a challenge he deeply enjoyed, to his own surprise. It was … refreshing after the dull, painful emptiness of the past weeks.

Artemis didn't protest when Zaknafein's fingers resumed their work. The drow seemed to have precise plans about what he wanted: both their clothes were discarded after hardly more than a minute, and yet when Zaknafein kissed Artemis, it was soft, lingering, not impatient.

"Lie down on your stomach," Zaknafein instructed and disengaged from him. He smiled at Artemis' startled gaze. "I said I would do something about your tenseness, and I will."

Not sure what exactly Zaknafein was planning to do Artemis hesitated a little before he gave in and made himself comfortable, arms folded under his head, one cheek resting on his forearm. It was too late now to remember that it would be much more reasonable to distrust the drow.

Zaknafein sat down next to him, undisturbed by his own state of undress. He stretched his fingers and put them on Artemis' shoulders. His touch was light, probing as if he wanted to give the assassin time to get used to the still unfamiliar caresses. It was only when he felt Artemis relax a little under his hands that Zaknafein started to massage him.

A surprised groan left Artemis' lips when the strong, rough fingers began to knead the tense muscles in his shoulders, neck and upper arms. Zaknafein wasn't particularly gentle or considerate, and Artemis flinched more than once under the determinate touches. But the drow definitely knew what he was doing - his fingers left a cosy feeling of warmth in the tired muscles.

"When was the last time you got a massage?" Zaknafein asked after a while, his voice filled with disbelief. His fingers had moved on to Artemis' lower back by now, rubbing the well defined muscles on either side of his spine. For a drow noble - especially for a fighter - massages were an almost daily pleasure, as necessary as a bath. At least the richer ones - and House Do'Urden had been quite wealthy - had highly skilled massage slaves to take care of their masters' relaxation. It was one of the things Zaknafein missed most since he had come to the surface.

"Maybe a year? I don't know," Artemis mumbled, too comfortable to lift his head. It had been back in Calimport, with one of the expensive whores Artemis spent a night with every once in a while. But that had been before Jarlaxle had contacted him and brought him to Menzoberranzan for the first time, before his fight with Drizzt Do'Urden, before the flight to the surface. It had been months, probably, but Artemis felt as if it had been a lifetime. Lying there, with his back turned to an insane drow who was skilfully massaging the tenseness out of his muscular sides, Artemis wondered how much he must have changed since he had left Calimport.

"Humans," Zaknafein commented, and Artemis could almost hear him shake his head. His plan to retort was thwarted by Zaknafein's hands, which moved to his thigh now, in a surprisingly nonsexual way. Artemis groaned in protest when the drow's fingers squeezed his tense muscles, but just as before the pain dissipated quickly, leaving the muscle more relaxed than it had been in a long time.

Still, he grumbled, "Can't you be more careful?"

"Oh, stop complaining," Zaknafein snapped with fake annoyance and tweaked the other thigh.

"You did that on purpose," Artemis said and turned his head to look back over his shoulder. The drow was smirking, but it was a good-humoured smirk.

"I'd never," he commented with such an absurdly innocent look that it made Artemis chuckle. Somehow even chuckling felt better than before. Against all self-discipline a smile made its way to Artemis' lips. His eyes fell shut when the drow continued to work on his thigh, then on his calves. Eventually Zaknafein even massaged his feet, kneading knots out of muscles which, to Artemis' prior knowledge, couldn't really be cramped.

'Good' didn't even come close to how he felt when Zaknafein's fingers stopped moving, now resting lightly on Artemis' ankles. His whole body seemed slack, but not weak. Quite the contrary, his muscles felt more reliable than ever when he tensed his biceps tentatively. Yet Zaknafein didn't seem to have finished.

"Come here," the drow whispered, but he didn't give him enough time to react. Wrapping his arms around Artemis' waist he pulled him into an upright position, until the assassin was sitting with his back leaning against Zaknafein's chest. Artemis just put his head on Zaknafein's shoulder, too relaxed to realise how intimate a gesture it was, or that he didn't mind right now that Zaknafein was taller than him.

Apparently the drow still wasn't satisfied with the result: his fingers moved to Artemis' chest, massaging it thoroughly and then sliding to his stomach. Artemis made a pleased little noise that sounded unfamiliar even to himself.

Zaknafein's hands finally stopped on Artemis' hips, caressing the warm skin languidly. His hands hurt a little, but the assassin didn't need to know that.

"I'll probably regret this next time we spar," Zaknafein said with an exaggerated sigh. His lips brushed against Artemis' ear, and he felt the assassin's abdominals move under his hands when he chuckled.

"I still won't be able to defeat you," Artemis replied, but even saying it loud didn't make it hurt. Zaknafein besting him was somehow … acceptable. It didn't make him angry, or even uneasy. Artemis was vaguely fascinated by this: usually it took much less to anger him, since he was already a very angry man. The only time he had been angry at Zaknafein was when the drow had spent the night with that bar-maid. The effect the drow had on him was startling. Artemis was quick to interrupt his confusing thoughts by continuing to talk, "But I'll definitely make you sweat."

"And you want to wait until our next sparring match for that?" Zaknafein's voice had dropped to this seductive whisper which seemed to crawl under Artemis' skin, where it would vibrate even after the drow had fallen silent again. And yet he put his hands determinedly onto Zaknafein's, to keep him back in case the drow should try anything. He remembered all too well the previous night, which had been as passionate as it had been exhausting.

"I'm tired," Artemis said curtly, trying to keep the lust out of his voice. The journey, his own doubts, the confusing conversation with Zaknafein, and then this wonderfully relaxing massage had made him sleepy, and Artemis Entreri when he wanted to sleep could get quite grumpy.

"So am I," Zaknafein admitted and rubbed all the while his chest against Artemis' back. "We'll do it slowly."

Artemis gave him a doubtful look - Zaknafein 'doing it slowly' sounded about as believable as … Artemis Entreri relaxing in a drow's arms. He sighed and shook his head in resignation. He resisted the urge to say "I hate you", but only because he had said it too often to Drizzt. Zaknafein would have laughed at him anyway. The assassin just gave up and joined Zaknafein when the drow lay down on his side.

Their position hardly changed, with Zaknafein embracing Artemis from behind, nuzzling his neck while his legs rubbed against Artemis'. This time Zaknafein had taken precautions - a quick reach to his bag next to the bed produced a vial of odorous oil. Artemis didn't even flinch when slick fingers ventured to a more intimate place than before. He arched back into the touch and turned his head to lick over the drow's sensitive ear, drawing out a deep moan.

The sensible part of his brain, usually in full control over every single one of his actions, tried a last time to get through to him, to make him understand that surrendering so completely to Zaknafein was probably the most stupid thing he had ever done in his life. The voice of reason was silenced by the simple fact that Artemis had never felt as good as with Zaknafein. Not just because those long fingers and soft lips were working wonders, but because he felt truly close to the drow. Artemis had always felt detached from other people, seeing them as useful, irrelevant, or dangerous, but never as possible companions. Zaknafein was maybe the first person who gave him this strangely enticing feeling of mutual understanding.

He wasn't really thinking any of this, more feeling it, like a certain interior warmth when Zaknafein's embrace enveloped him.

"Don't move away."

The words were scarcely audible. Artemis' voice was quiet and tired, and his accented drow didn't help either. But Zaknafein knew what he wanted. He tightened his embrace and kissed Artemis' shoulder, not withdrawing.

"You won't be able to sleep like this," he whispered, his voice hardly more than a hot breath. His lips brushed again over the muscular, sweaty shoulder, enjoying the salty taste of Artemis' skin.

"Can sleep later," Artemis replied and put a possessive hand on Zaknafein's forearm. The drow didn't object, but simply nuzzled against him, face buried against his neck, the thick hair tickling his nose pleasantly. He gently pushed it aside to reach the skin of his neck and kiss it, breathing in the scent of sweat. It surprised him once again that it didn't make him think that Artemis was "filthy iblith", but that he actually liked it, the way he also liked the stubbly cheeks and the hair on the pale body.

Artemis closed his eyes and kept caressing Zaknafein's arm, not really conscious of what he was doing. He was so relaxed and comfortable that staying like this for the next days almost seemed like an idea worth considering. With Zaknafein holding him he didn't even feel vulnerable. It was only when he realised that he was starting to drift off that he stirred again. Right now Artemis had the impression that he could easily fall asleep in Zaknafein's arms - but he would probably panic as soon as he woke up and felt restrained by the drow.

Zaknafein grumbled unwillingly, but he complied with Artemis' silent request. He pulled back and rolled over to the other side of the bed, which felt unpleasantly cold. While Artemis turned around so he could see Zaknafein the drow grabbed the blanket and pulled it over himself, earning a lazy growl from the assassin who held on to it. Their eyes met for a moment, before they sighed almost simultaneously and moved closer to each other, still not touching, but at least close enough to share the blanket. Zaknafein smiled about the feigned annoyed look on Artemis' face, but the human had already closed his eyes again.