Chapter Twenty: Paragons
Author's Note: This chapter contains some Entreri/Jarlaxle stuff, but it isn't explicit. The more explicit version is on my Archiveofourown account which is under this same name. On I will have the PG-13 version only.
"And if you fail me again, I will have you scrubbing latrines for the next five years!" yelled Jarlaxle at the younger drow male who was curiously holding a copy of some elven romance in his trembling fingers. His head drooping, the drow apparently hadn't gotten the que to leave prompting his employer to tap him on the shoulder. Jarlaxle signed out the word for "leave" and the man nearly fell over himself as he scrambled to the door.
The mercenary leader rub the temples of his bald head as he turned around, looking for the next object of his wrath. Entreri had seen Jarlaxle's anger before, but rarely. Half the time he had to remind himself that Jarlaxle even was a drow, so different he was from his kin. But today, the drow in him was fully present as he vented his rage on his household.
Jarlaxle turned his eyes to Vaelirra.
"And you! How could you? What would they have done to her if Entreri hadn't come along? How idiotic do you have to be to sell your child to the Shadovar?"
Vaelirra's mouth formed a thin line. "I was told that she would be safe. Their leader assured-"
"I don't want to hear it. You knew this was a foolish course of action. Those people will never respect the drow, not as anything other than weapons."
"How else will I free Kesrith from the talons of Lolth? How else will our people ever be anything more than slaves to her?"
Jarlaxle pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed. Entreri himself had to admit the woman was a bit ridiculous.
"So you would have us all bow down to another Mistress? How is that going to help?"
Her eyes flashed with anger. "I have seen the signs. I have communed with the Lady of Loss."
"Are there more agents after Kesrith?"
The woman threw her hands up. "You are impossible. What does it matter to you? You only contributed the seed. I have done everything else."
"You just avoided that question." Jarlaxle stomped closer and opened his mouth to speak but before he could one of the mercenaries cleared his throat.
"We found this in her belongings. It is from Thultanthar." The drow held out a scroll and his leader snatched it. His eyes scanned over the contents as Vaelirra ranted about privacy and people pilfering through her belongings.
The two of them argued while the mercenaries looked around uncomfortably. Entreri glanced towards the corner where Kesrith was being guarded. Her narrow face frowned in worry as she watched her parents fight.
Entreri couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She wasn't a sweet child, but who would be with her upbringing?
"But you have no right-!" yelled Vaelirra.
"Enough!" said Jarlaxle coldly. "I have had enough of this. Enough of you."
He pulled a crystal pendant from under his shirt. He held it up and chanted a single trigger word.
Vaelirra's mouth gaped as she stared at him. Her body began to glow with an eerie light, then she slowly faded from view as if she had never been there at all.
Entreri heard Kesrith's sharp intake of breath. He turned to see her pale eyes wide in horror. She glanced around the room, looking for an avenue of escape.
He went to her then, shoving one of the mercs out of the way as he did so.
"What did you do?!" cried the girl.
Jarlaxle turned toward her. "She is not dead. Merely imprisoned." He walked over and knelt down in front of her. "She has food in there and she is safe. I will check on her later."
"You put my mother in a prison?"
Jarlaxle held up the pendant. "In here. And she is always here. I won't let any harm come to her." Jarlaxle reached out to touch the girl but she shrank away.
The girl glared up at him carefully, her mouth drawn into a pout.
Obviously frustrated Jarlaxle shook his head and then called out to one of the female mercenaries who was standing by.
Take her to her room and get her a change of clothing he said gesturing to her filthy clothes that had been stained in her adventure.
She has an appointment later this evening.
The girl reluctantly left but not without staring daggers at her father.
Artemis entreri couldn't help but chuckle.
"Nine Hells," he snickered. "You are spectacularly bad at this."
The drow frowned. "At what?"
"Fatherhood." Entreri stepped closer to him, examining his face. Jarlaxle was showing obvious signs of stress which must mean that this situation was really bad for him. His mask of clever flippancy and charm seldom faltered.
The drow averted his eyes. "I really am that bad, aren't I?"
"Yes." Entreri reached out and patted him on the shoulder in a rare gesture of support. "But that's not really surprising. Drow aren't exactly paragons of excellent parenting."
"And I suppose humans always raise their children with perfect love and care?" said Jarlaxle. Entreri rolled his eyes but the comment stirred things within him that he didn't want to think about right now.
"No. Of course not. Plenty of bad human parents. And probably elf parents as well." He shrugged.
"Not that our lovely surface cousins would ever let it be known that something bad happened among them," agreed Jarlaxle.
The mercenary was silent for a moment, then nodded. "You are right, of course. About drow not being good at raising their children." Defeated, he strode over to the lacquered desk and poured himself a drink. He lifted up the glass with a questioning look. Entreri walked over and poured himself one as well. The two men clinked glasses then downed the liquid, ready for more.
Awkward silence surrounded them as they drank, until the drow looked down at the desk. He picked up a parchment and read the contents.
"I suppose I should give this to you. I forgot to do so with all of this going on. It is an update on Dahlia's situation."
Entreri's heart sank as he scanned the elegant drow script. The news wasn't good.
Lost in despair he stared down at the brandy in his glass, then lifted it up and swallowed it in one gulp. He concentrated on the burn as it went down. Just another distraction to keep him from thinking of things he'd rather not drudge up.
A small, warm hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. He looked up to see Jarlaxle standing closer. Very close.
"I'm sorry," said the drow in a low voice. Something about that voice made him shiver. The other man drew even closer.
"There is nothing to be sorry about," said Entreri who realized that his voice was barely above a whisper.
The scent of Jarlaxle's fine stirred heat in his lower abdomen. His mouth was close-so close-to the other man's.
It dawned on the assassin that he had never appreciated the other man's beauty before this moment. He had always acknowledged him as a fop, of course. But he'd never truly taken in the fine angular features, the silken black skin or the deep ruby eyes that now smoldered up at him.
Fuck, thought Entreri as the drow pressed his body close to him. His senses were now taken up completely by Jarlaxle. Entreri realized that he was enjoying this, a little too much. It had been a long time since he had been filled with this much need.
Dahlia. He thought of her and what she might think of this. And in an instant the desire for his longtime friend was gone, replaced with sadness and shame. He pulled away and swiped the parchment off of the desk. He couldn't look at the other man.
"I need to go," he said curtly. "I will keep in touch."
The drow said nothing as he closed the door behind him.