Chapter 12

Tega stopped outside of her room and unlocked the door. Kimmuriel stayed in the hallway eyebrow raised.

"If I'm teaching you, it will be in my quarters, not yours," she said with as much authority as she could muster.

"Why?" he asked with a sneer, "My quarters are far superior."

"Could you be less like you for a few minutes and just use my rooms?"

For once, he did not fight with her and walked through the door of her room with only a heavy sigh.

She closed the door behind him and clicked the lock home, "Ok, so...mine away."

"What?" He asked, raising his delicate eyebrow.

She leaned against a wall, leaving the one available chair for him, "It's a waste of time to sit here teaching you if you can just lift it out of my brain. So just take what you need and we can work here quietly for the next few days."

"You welcome me to rifle through your mind?"

She sighed, "As though you haven't done that enough, I might as well get some benefit from it."

"Benefit?" He asked, enunciating each syllable.

"I have a project I want to get done in this library, when we go. I'm going to need time to prepare for it. So can you just take the information you need so that I can work?"

He lifted his chin to looked at the papers and maps pinned across the wall, "Project?" he asked with incredulity.

She looked at the papers with affection. Strings roped across them now, linking houses, pinned with colored flags. She could feel him push his way into her mind, uncovering her plans for the mess of information on her wall.

He got up and looked around at the papers, touching them lightly.

Tega was looking at the wall affectionately. All of her spare hours for months had gone into this.

"Can you do it?" Kimmuriel asked. His voice was hushed. He didn't wait for her to answer. He peeled into her mind and lifted his way through her plan for the congeal of data strewn on her wall. Until this she had not realized how brutal he had been with his intrusions. They had been the psionic equivalent of holding someone down by the wrists and rifling through their pockets.

This was gentle, nearly intimate. The paging through of a book with delicate pages.

She held very still and let him do it. The moment seemed fragile and she feared that if she said anything, if she moved at all, it would be broken.

"Do you understand the implications of this project, if you should be successful?" He asked. He had stepped closer to her, looking down at her.

This broke the illusion and she gave him a sour look, "Do I understand the implications of my own project? Go to hell, Kimmuriel."

He withdrew sharply from her mind and returned to his chair, the corners of his mouth twisted down.

XXXXX

"You are taking to this very quickly," Auguste said as he looked over the mathematics work he had set Tega.

She straightened proudly, "It was not so hard."

Auguste looked at her with soft eyes "I have never seen someone learn this so quickly." He returned her parchment, "If you keep up at this pace you will soon catch up to me. You could assist me in my research."

He had begun to touch her hands or wrists when he spoke to her, to watch her while she worked on the problem sets he gave her, eyes soft. She wanted to retch, to fight him. Instead she would look up, catch his eye, look away.

He allowed her to work in silence for a long while, nearly an hour. He had allowed her to sit alongside him at his desk, thinking it a privelege. She would have much rather been alone, or at the very least at the opposite side of the room. Her knees ran into the drawers for one thing, the desk being made only for one, and his smell made her want to retch. It wasn't so much that he smelled too terribly bad, he just smelled like him.

He worked as she did, but he kept getting distracted, looking up at her.

She had a part to play and she knew it. She finished a problem and looked up through her eyelashes.

He saw her looking and put down his quill pen. "Tega…" he said hesitantly, "While I recognize our power disparity, I do believe that the two of us have much in common…"

She imagined stabbing that quill pen through his hands. But instead she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He froze for a moment, then his hand came up to her cheek and held it tenderly, pressing his lips back against hers.

When they pulled back from each other his eyes were wide. He swallowed. She was nearly moved to pity at how innocent he seemed. She crushed it back. It did not matter if he understood what he had done. He owned her. He had sent countless others like her to the torments of the streets. She had to keep her heart shut up. Whenever the moment came for her to move she wouldn't have the luxury of hesitating.

"Tega…" he said.

She looked away, blinking bashfully.

He scooted his chair back from her and turned back to his mathematics, "Tell me when you finish learning the concepts in that book, I can check over your work." But smiled at his own work when he said it, but did not look at her.

XXXXX

Much to her own surprise, Tega found that she did not much mind working alongside Kimmuriel. After he had lifted the essentials of surface customs from her mind, he had set to his own work. He was quiet and still for hours on end, allowing her to work undistracted. It was odd, though, having him in her chambers. It forced her to think of him as a person, rather than an antagonist that disappeared as soon as he wasn't bothering her.

She looked up from her own work to glance at him. His long white hair was pushed back behind his ears, out of his face as he bent over his book. She watched a small strand of hair slip repeatedly from behind his ear and across his eye. He sighed each time and the hair moved itself back behind his ear. Finally, on the third occasion, he released a muffled scoffing and the front strands of his hair twisted themselves into a messy knot at the back of his head. It looked so much less purposeful than everything else about him it made her grin.

Occasionally also while he worked, a small crease would appear in his forehead and a quill would trace itself across paper that floated beside him. Sometimes he would take the paper from midair with his fingers and read back over it. When he wasn't infiltrating her mind it was much easier to appreciate the sharpness of his cheekbones and the slender length of his fingers.

She blinked and turned abruptly back to her project, blush rising on her cheeks. She had better hope he wasn't infiltrating her mind if she was thinking things like that. To be entirely honest she felt a little silly. Had she not nearly kissed Jarlaxle in a tavern only yesterday? Jarlaxle at least had moments of kindness, even if they were self serving. Kimmuriel was consistently cruel, taunting and testing her.

Of course, he had handed Auguste to her. Because he thought you'd want to kill him. She chastised herself. This made her stop. Hadn't she wanted to kill him? Hadn't she dreamed of killing him for years? Certainly he deserved it even by a hero's standards. But what duty did she have to be kind to those who had wronged her? No one had shown her mercy. She had taken her freedom for herself. If she were confronted with the drow commander would she quiver and then forgive him or would she put a knife through his throat?

'Perhaps you could be quieter with your bloodthirst, if you had not notice, I am reading.'

Tega's nostrils flared, "I'm sorry, Kimmuriel, is my thinking too loudly for you?"

Largely ignoring the vitriol in her voice he replied, 'Yes.'

She shut her book, "I know this would make it actively harder for you to invade my privacy, but could you teach me how to keep you out of my mind rather than just berating me?"

He turned in his seat and looked at her. His unbroken gaze was far different from Jarlaxle's. Jarlaxle alway seemed like a predator when he looked straight at her. Like a snake that charms. She always thought he seemed to be about to open his mouth and bite out her throat.

Kimmuriel, the few times his gaze had fallen so heavily on her, was much more akin to a doctor sussing out symptoms. More likely to split her open with a scalpel to see what lay underneath.

He did not deign to speak out loud, 'No, although had you asked me a week ago I would have.'

She glowered in indignation and spoke aloud, not letting him set the tone for the conversation, "What in the gods' names has changed?"

He took awhile deciding whether or not to answer her. Finally he apparently decided that he ought to and said directly into her mind, 'You began to figure it out, did you not, all on your own. You employed a technique I have not seen before and I would see you strengthen it. I protect my mind, the human Entreri protects his mind, with what is most accurately described as walls. A series of barriers that keep a psion out. This has a number of disadvantages, tell me, what are the disadvantages to that?'

He had communicated none of his usual condescension so this time she played along, thinking back her response clearly, 'I suppose they could eventually be broken down, if you used enough force. Although, can you hurt someone doing that?'

A smile lifted the corner of his lips, and he thought, 'Yes, I can hurt them. Think more, Tega. What is the disadvantage?'

She did think more. She furrowed her brow and tried to work through it like a drow, to see what Kimmuriel would think of. It came to her like a snap of fingers, 'You know that they are defending themselves I suppose.'

He gave the barest nod of approval, 'Yes, Tega, and if I know that they are defending themselves, I can redouble my assault. You did not defend yourself in such a way, did you? You led me astray. Fed me things you thought it safe that I had. If you had done it sooner and if I were a poorer psion, I would not have noticed. It was a remarkable strategy.'

She could feel her cheeks turn red and was glad that the lights were on so they would not glow so brightly in infravision. She had a soft spot for compliments and unlike the freely given ones from Jarlaxle, if she had won a kind word from Kimmuriel she must have earned it.

He spoke aloud, although his voice was low, nearly a whisper, his eyes gleamed, "When you arrived I thought you helpless. Have you not, always seemed helpless? I have seen in in your memories. Too small. Too weak. But it was you alone of your people who found freedom. Not your skilled father nor your warrior brother."

He had not stood but he seemed somehow to be closing in.

"You, Tega," he continued, "Always seem so guileless. It is not a technique any drow could accomplish. But you, little faerie, never quite seem like a threat."

She fiddled with her skirt, "I am not so much of a threat."

What was almost a true smile was on his lips, it was both intimidating and allowed his face a cast of beauty it did not normally have. Although he had not moved she felt phantom fingers brush up her wrist. She froze, entirely still.

His voice, soft and lush spoke. She could see that his lips did not move, but it came upon her like a whisper behind her ear. She felt even his breath, although it was not there. "Tega, if you wished it, do you think you could have me killed?"

"Kimmuriel, I don't want to have you killed."

"That is not what I asked."

She gave the thought due consideration, "I think Jarlaxle could kill you if he wanted to, but I don't think that I am profitable enough to warrant your death."

Her mind became alight with memories of Jarlaxle leaning over her in the tavern with his glittering eyes and husky voice. Of the way he had curled against her lap when he had been wounded.

Kimmuriel continued, "Do you think you could convince him of your worth? Have you not always played the long game?" The fingers trailed up her arm and she was burdened with the memories of her manipulative affair with Auguste, who still looked at her fondly, this many years later.

The phantom touches that were pressing periodically along her arms were sending gooseflesh across her skin. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to watch his long fingered hands rest on the arms of the chair.

To her own surprise she was rather complimented by the thought that Kimmuriel believed her capable of getting him killed, "Don't you think you could kill me though," she added fairly, "And I'm sure you could get the job done more quickly."

He arched a slim eyebrow, "Not without raising the ire of Jarlaxle."

She changed tact somewhat, remarking again on what she thought an important point of fact, "I do want to make it clear that I would gain nothing from having you killed nor even demoted."

"Would you not berid yourself of an irritant?"

"That is true," she admitted fairly, "But Jarlaxle would replace you and I would have to contend with another drow lieutenant. You, at least, mean me no harm."

His lips twisted down, "Don't I? Are you so sure?"

She thought he had pressed her enough that she was within her rights to press him, "You arranged for Jarlaxle to meet with my old captor, for whom you knew I harbored ill feelings."

"Most would not take that as kindness."

She allowed herself to grin at him, "You gave up your game when you asked if he still lived. You meant him as a gift."

With what was nearly irritation he remarked, "Perhaps next time someone offers you your vengeance you might take it, or be considered ungrateful."

She might have laughed, "When I didn't have him murdered, it was not my intention to offend you."

The hints of his smile returned, "It is possible I erred in judgement."

"What do you mean? That you shouldn't have given me a man for the slaughter as a gesture of goodwill?"

"No," he rebuked, "I had assumed you only wished him dead, and because even an old human could overcome you in physical combat and you have no magic about you, I had surmised it would be enough for you for Jarlaxle to finish him. But it was not, was it Tega?"

Once more his phantom fingers crept up her arms. They brushed across her cheekbone with what, from another person, she might have taken as reverence. She stiffened. Her own bloody fantasies were laying themselves out. She had dreamed of it many nights since she had rediscovered Auguste, her old lusts surfacing. Kimmuriel displayed them for her, overlapping and back to back. What would Auguste's blood feel like on her fingers? Would it be hot coming from his body? His screaming might be different than she had imagined it as a girl. He was older now.

Would he have children now? Would he beg for mercy for their sake? Would she give it to him? She thought of Meika and her heart was hardened. No. No she would not give him mercy. The desire rose more strongly in her than it ever had more powerfully than she had thought possible to contain, a desperate thirst, given strength no doubt by the psion's intent.

She wanted his blood strewn across the floor, to splatter on the walls. She wanted it to spurt from him and cover her. She wanted to tell him the things she had thought of him when he had stroked her hair and kissed her skin. She wanted to show him the inventiveness he had birthed in her.

Her desire to bloody Auguste crested over her, the visions Kimmuriel was emblazoning in her mind nearly blinding her to her reality.

And then she felt the warm press of lips against her own.

Instantaneously the visions broke and her eyes, which she had not realized she had closed, flew open. Kimmuriel remained across the room, although he looked nearly as jarred and swept into the moment as she felt. Her hand flew up and touched her lips.

"Did you-" She started.

He did not let her finish, he rose and a blue portal opened at his side.

She leapt to her feet and seized him by the wrist, pulling him back, "Don't you dare run off after that!" She nearly screeched.

He turned back toward her and looked down at her, eyes hard. The portal disappeared and he stepped at her. She stumbled back half a step then stood her ground, glowering at him.

Enunciating his words sharply he hissed, although he still looked taken aback at his own actions, "Did you want an apology, faerie?"

She glowered back, "No," she snarled, "But you can't psion kiss me and then run away."

His eyes burned into her and he said sarcastically, danger cutting through his voice, "You believe you can refuse me leave to quit your chambers?"

"No," She said, letting him go "Fine, go if you want, but I don't think I'm out of line asking you were trying to do!"

He sneered at her, "That is the most idiotic question I have ever been asked, elf," He snarled, saying 'elf' like a slur.

"Then it should not be difficult for one so brilliant as you to explain!"

He carded one his long fingered hands through the hair at the back of her head, with the other he seized her by the waist and pulled her toward him, crushing his lips against hers.

Sparks flickered up her spine. Had she been asked thirty minutes ago what she would have done if Kimmuriel Oblodra were to swoop down and kiss her on the mouth she would have sworn she would stomp on his foot so hard she would break it. But instead, she gripped him by the hips.

Communicating his request or demand or desire through her mind, using intention rather than words, she complied, turning her head to better accommodate him and parting her lips. Hot and tingling almost of electricity his tongue invaded her mouth.

She shifted her hand up to his long hair. It was nearly cool to the touch and twice as soft as it looked. She ran her fingers through it and released a pleasured noise. Fire was burning low in her belly. The combination of the bloodthirst he had elicited and the anger he brought out in her being transmuted into desire.

He growled softly, akin to the purr of a tiger and his hands slid down and lifted her. She lifted easily, borne more from psionics than brawn. His hands pulled up her legs to wrap around her waist and he turned slightly, pushing her against the wall.

The attention of her mind was divided between alternating flashes of her bloodthirsty desires for Auguste, her mathematics project, and, the only piece she was supplying on her own, her delight under Kimmuriel's affections.

His own hands were underneath her, keeping her elevated and pressed between the wall and his body. But psionic hands, impeded by neither her clothing nor the wall, scraped down her back and caressed up her sides.

Her reach was not so liberated, but she had one hand on the hot skin of his neck. With the other, she ran her fingers up the sharp point of his ear. He broke the kiss to let his head drop. Through his swollen and parted lips came a sound that Tega thought might be considered a moan, but the descriptor did not entirely capture the lust that permeated it. It made heat curl inside her.

Driven by unconquerable need to make him elicit that sound again she lowered her lips to the side of his throat, kissing and sucking upon the skin. As lightly as she could she scraped her nails up his ear again and, when she reached the very tip, tweaked it in the tips of her fingers.

His voice breathy, he called out, but did not leave her unattended. His psionic hands crawled up, over her belly and across her small breasts, pulling softly at her nipples.

She gasped against his neck, and whispered roughly, "Kimmuriel!"

Under his breath he murmured, "Ishwi," and it took her all the way until his lips and teeth were traveling down the column of her neck before she was able to translate it as brilliant.

He telepathed his intent in vague flashes of word and image. His teeth still on the soft flesh of her throat she gasped her assent, "Yes, go."

Once more held up by the force of his psionics he crossed the room with her and dropped her atop her bed, coming down after her. He slid his hands up her skirt and she began working at the ties on his robe. She wondered, if she could get her lips against the skin of his chest and his belly, if he would smell even stronger of his tantalizing but infuriatingly faint scent.

This was madness! She attempted to reason with herself. But she did not feel compelled to stop him or even slow him down. She felt entirely pulled in by the desperation in his movements. Although she had not given this consideration before, she considered the possibility that he had.

Her fingers loosed the ties of his robe and she pushed it down his shoulders, revealing his lithe dark torso. She leaned up and smelled his skin, pressing her lips to his chest. She brought up her hands and ran her fingers down his belly, nuzzling against the softness of his skin.

He made a low noise and his hands moved up her thighs and touched her through her undergarments.

Her nails bit into his sides and she gasped against his chest.

Psionics were pulling her clothes from her and she fidgeted to facilitate their removal. Frustratedly she pulled his hands from her so she could remove entirely his robe, leaving him in only fitted pants. He sat back on his knees to pull it free from his arms and stopped, looming over her and looking down.

The frantic aggression that had permeated the first part of their tryst was dimming somewhat, although his chest still rose and fell rapidly. He paused and raised an eyebrow at her, eyes still dark with desire.

Her breath was also coming harshly, "If you are giving me time to reconsider, you needn't."

A whisper of a laugh passed through his lips and those psionic hands divested her of the top and bottom halves of her undergarments, leaving her entirely bare beneath him. His eyes crawled over her. Psionic touches came in the wake of his gaze, caressing with the imitation of hands, and kissing with the imitation of mouths.

She could feel him inside her mind and his touches adjusted every time he found a spot that was particularly sensitive.

"You are right," he purred, "I have considered it. But I did not anticipate you being so compliant."

She was helpless beneath this attention, squirming and releasing small desperate noises. Her back gave little involuntary arches and she tried futilely to press herself harder into his touches. With a drowish smirk he pressed his physical fingers against her, slipping them through her folds and coating them in dampness. Now slick, he drew them upward until they reached her clitoris.

Her body curved up in an arch and she whimpered. She could neither form words nor speak under the dexterity of his fingers. It was entirely too much and not nearly enough.

"Kimmuriel!" She pleaded, so reduced by him.

Psionic energy buzzed through his fingers on her and her words came unbound into a yell.

He purred above her, "Yes?"

"Kimmuriel" She gasped, she could not find the words in drow and turned back to her native elvish in desperation, "Please. I want-"

Following her into elvish he teased, "What do you want, Tega? Do words so fail you? Show me."

She condensed her pleas into a lust driven mental display of him removed of the rest of his clothing, his hair falling against her skin, his weight pressed on top of her. The slow burn of him inside of her. How he would sound moaning her name against her skin and the bursts of noise he would make when she sucked the tips of his ears between her lips. How he would shudder and lose his composure.

"Vith," he swore and for a moment she was bereft of his touch as he briefly stood and slid his pants and underthings from his slender hips. Her eyes moved to the newly exposed length of him, hard and glistening at the tip.

Later she would consider the ramification of allowing this to progress so far, but now he had driven her so close to the edge she had little energy for anything but consuming lust.

He returned to the bed, pushing her legs apart and kneeling between them, he lowered his body, holding himself over her with one hand, the other pulling her into position by the hip. He recreated the imagery she had conveyed, allowing his long and soft hair to fall upon her chest.

He dragged his erection through her folds, against her sensitive flesh until its tip was poised at her entrance.

It was all she could do not to wrap her legs about him and take him inside of her herself, but she waited for him to move.

He did, but slowly, so infuriatingly slowly, he began to slide into her. He was gritting his teeth and his breath was in harsh, controlled bursts. It clearly took as much out of him to draw this out it did for her not to hurry him along.

Her body felt empty and burning, desperate for him to be inside of her.

More infuriating than relieving he had entered her only to the tip. He looked at her, fire in his eyes, whose red irises were being consumed by dilated pupils. And his psionics shared between them their combined lust, building such vivid anticipation that when she cried out for it, he joined her, needy groan slipping from his lips. He shifted, poised to impale himself entirely.

When sudden and rapid knocking came at the door.

XXXXX

Tega was rather at a loss at what to do. Auguste had left her alone for the afternoon and, having hours to kill, she had begun to look over his mathematics work. She had progressed much since she had discovered her skill. It no longer sent her into a burning fury for knowledge, but now lived calmly as an irrevocable part of her.

He had been belabouring this project for weeks, unable to find a way to balance his hypothesis. He had redone his work countless times, torn through his papers, ripped them up, shrieked and shouted. And she had solved it in an hour.

He had made several quite grievous errors, when she fixed them, his hypothesis fell entirely into place. But ought she tell him? She remained the rest of the day, plagued by deliberation, until, near nightfall, he returned to his room.

But the look upon his face drove all thoughts of mathematics from her mind. A frown cut deeply into his forehead and twisted his mouth in fury.

She rose, "Auguste?" she said, then amended, "master?"

He lashed out, swiping his hand so hard against an ink bottle that it flew across the room and smashed, exploding across the wall. He let out an enraged roar.

"What is it, Master Auguste?" She asked, taking a step back from him. She would kill him if she had to, if he attacked her she would stab his eyes out.

"My whore of a sister!" He seethed, "She has designs against my mother! Why must she be so gods blasted selfish!"

"You sister plans to kill your mother?" she asked, "Why?" Although, she thought she knew why. To take control of the house and the guild that they ran.

Auguste gave her a condescending look and told her as much, "I cannot bear to be beholden to my sister. I ought to be running this guild! But she and that harlot she keeps at her side will take it from me." He rounded on her, eyes blazing, "Tell me, does that vile brother of yours know how to fight?"

She answered, trying to keep pride from leaking into her voice, "Yes. He is a prodigious fighter."

Auguste swore, "Could I beat him, do you think?"

Her eyes widened and she looked at his scrawny frame and ink stained hands.

"Well?" He pressed.

"Oh...Oh I didn't know you really wanted me to answer you. No, if you fought him he would have you on the floor in seconds. I did not even know you knew how to fight."

"He is only a slave."

Anger burned under her skin, "Then, by all means, do as you think is best and fight him, master and we will see how it turns out."

He struck her across the cheek with the backside of his hand, knuckles slamming against her cheek, "You will not talk back to me!"

She took a step back and raised her hand to her swelling cheek, "Master, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Tell me what I can do to help you."

He sneered at her and said viciously, "Kill your brother."

The bottom dropped out of Tega's stomach, "Please, Auguste!" she said, "No, I cannot. Anything else. I will do anything else to help you. But I cannot wound Meika!"

He gave her an appraising look, "What about my mother and sister then? Could you devise how to get rid of them?"

"Yes," she said with surety, "Yes, yes. I will help you become the leader of this guild. I would kill a hundred soldiers for you!"

He pulled her against his chest and kissed her. She nearly sobbed but returned his kiss, clinging to him in hatred and despair.

He tore himself off of her, "You will no longer be spending nights with him, it is too dangerous, I am sure he plots to take your life."

Horror at losing the only part of her life she did not despise rose like bile, "He would not, Auguste, my brother wouldn't raise a hand to me. You do not need to worry."

He didn't listen, "You will spend your nights here."

XXXXX

Kimmuriel dropped his forehead onto Tega's chest and swore, "Lloth's webs, now?"

From through the door, Jarlaxle's impatient tone rang out, "Tega! I know you are in there, I need to speak with you. Now, Tega."

Kimmuriel laid a finger on her lips to quiet her and thought, 'Be silent, perhaps he will go.'

More merry rapping sounded on the door, "I have a key for this room, you know, Tega!"

They heard the jangling of keys and Kimmuriel leapt off of her, his clothing flying back over his body in an instant, his hair righting itself. They heard a key enter the lock and Tega shot up, giving Kimmuriel a look of desperation and outrage.

He put up his hand and her clothes pulled themselves over her body, her hair straightened itself and the bed smoothed itself out. Kimmuriel returned to his seat, book in his hand and she rushed to the door, opening it as Jarlaxle did from the other side.

"Really, Jarlaxle?" She asked, "You could not wait?"

He clicked his tongue, "Well what were you doing? Oh -" he had spied Kimmuriel over her shoulder, "The two of you are locked up together?"

She fought to return her breathing to normal and hoped that he had not left marks exposed on her throat, "Well yes, I am preparing him for the surface."

Jarlaxle arched an eyebrow, "He seems to be reading, I will hazard a guess that you can sacrifice a few moments of your time, excuse us, lieutenant."

Wordlessly, and with an icy expressionless face, Kimmuriel rose and departed through a blue portal.

Jarlaxle stepped into the room and closed the door with a snap behind him, "Tega," he began with a frown, "Can't you get along with Artemis?"

She gaped at him in disbelief and frustration, "That is why you barged into my chambers?" She asked. Her body still thrummed with need and she would be furious if Jarlaxle had interrupted her to talk about the hurt feelings of his human friend.

Jarlaxle scowled, "He is an important asset, Tega, and I would like him returning to us when we are finished with this war against Mithril Hall. I thought, as my assistant and a denizen of the surface that you could facilitate making him more comfortable here." He broke off and turned his head to the side, peering at her, "Tega, are you feeling alright?"

"What?" She asked, "Why- why do you ask?"

He shrugged, "Your face is quite flushed, surely you cannot be that angry with me?" And he gave her a wide eyed and pouting look.

"Jarlaxle," she said, "I will try to ease Artemis' transition, but I will be upfront that I do not like the man."

"How could you not?" Jarlaxle said, "He is exotic and handsome and so good with his dagger I can hardly believe it!"

"He smells terrible!" She said.

Jarlaxle smirked and laughed, "I think you have become too close with our good lieutenant Kimmuriel!"

She could not help the pinkness that rose up her cheeks, and she said, defensively, "He is Calimport incarnate, Jarlaxle. I do not like Calimport, it smells of death and I spent the worst years of my life there, enslaved to Auguste."

Jarlaxle shrugged, "Then get along with him as a favor to me. Oh, that reminds me, I have reports on your desk that I need you to look through, you were finished with Kimmuriel, yes?"

No, she had not been finished with Kimmuriel, thank you very much. "You need them done now?"

"Quite!" he said, "Come now, back to work!"

She would have liked to visit a bathroom and tidy herself up before settling back to paperwork, but she followed Jarlaxle back to his office and returned dejectedly to her desk. Indeed, there was an enormous stack of paperwork in front of her.

"What is all this?" She asked in disbelief.

He winked, "You need to get ready to be gone at the at library, do you not?"

"Oh, yes," she drew down the first page, settling in to a long night of paperwork, "Where is Artemis then?"

Jarlaxle looked up from his own desk, "Sulking and alone in his own suite."

"Perhaps were he more pleasant I would feel worse for his plight."

Jarlaxle scoffed, "You were perfectly ready to cloister yourself off with Kimmuriel who is, by my estimation, far worse tempered than Artemis."

"Perhaps, but he smells nicer."

Jarlaxle laughed and teased, "Do you make a habit of smelling him?"

She quite vividly remembered the exaggerated scent that clung to his skin along his chest and neck and how it had felt to press her lips and nose to his skin. She shivered, "Of course I don't."

"Tega?"

She looked up at him, "Yes, Jarlaxle?"

"I do apologize for sending you off to the surface alone with him. I know you and he do are not on excellent terms. But I thought it would be preferable to taking part in the surface raid."

She gave him a sincere smile, "Thank you, Jarlaxle. It is preferable. I want no part in the war with Mithril Hall."

"I will make sure that he behaves himself."

"Thank you."

She set to the paperwork, working quietly and steadily. Jarlaxle had a stream of visitors passing in and out of his office and, as she had grown accustomed to, she ignored them quite proficiently.

Now that her body was cooling down her brain was running into overdrive. How could she have possibly nearly bedded Kimmuriel Oblodra? Certainly she had always had an understanding that he was attractive, but she had never considered taking him to bed. Not that it had not been an enjoyable endeavor. But idiotic. Wasn't it?"

She had not had a tryst such as that before. The two that she had taken apart from Auguste, who she resolutely did not count, had begun as emotional connections that grew into physical passion.

Why had those died out? They had not lasted long, either of them, not long enough to even really note them. She would never have told them such, but boredom. Not that they had not been engaging and interesting people full of their own qualities and pursuits. They just had not been entirely suited to her.

Certainly, there were borders that Kimmuriel crossed, and they had begun their acquaintanceship as something closer to antagonists than equals, but she did not fool herself into thinking that this was about finding an emotive companion. What did she have to lose?

And he had called her brilliant, and gods was he not brilliant himself.

'Thank you,' he said teasingly in her mind.

Her head shot up. Kimmuriel sat across from Jarlaxle, his back to her

"What do you mean you will be staying on the surface for the duration of your time at the library?" Jarlaxle said, "You want to remain on the surface?"

In clipped tones Kimmuriel replied, "Creating a portal to cross such a distance as that can be done but it is rather exacting. To do so every day may compromise my ability to complete my work at the library. I am sure the faerie will not complain."

In her head he commented, 'Take it as a gesture of goodwill.'

Not sure where it came up from, she thought back coquettishly, 'And you will not begrudge either being away from Jarlaxle's interruptions for a number of weeks, I think.'

'I hope you did not expect… selflessness.' He had not had the appropriate word in drow and had to substitute elvish to make himself understood, it nearly made her laugh aloud.

'Of course I didn't, I am not entirely foolish.'

Out loud, to Jarlaxle, he said, "I will allow her to make the arrangements when we arrive, I am sure the other faeries will find her more agreeable to work with."

"Tega?" Jarlaxle said, "Would it so impose on you to stay in an inn on the surface rather than return here while you work in the library?"

She didn't look up from her work, "That sounds fine, although Kimmuriel will have to behave if he does not want to be thrown from the inn."

Kimmuriel rose and swept toward the door. Before he left he stopped and turned back, face as expressionless as ever, "When you have finished with her, Captain, there are details I need to discuss about our venture. Send her along to my chambers when she can be spared."

Jarlaxle waved him away dismissively, "Yes, fine, fine."

In her mind, as he took his leave he said into her mind, 'And we have a pending matter I intend to resolve.'

NOTE: I am sorry this took so long to update, I was both stuck on this chapter and waylaid by ridiculous fanfiction of an incredibly not popular book. But I hope the contents of the chapter has made up for how long it took to come into existence!