Arden Swift was attempting to stand, face a bloody pulp of a mess, nose bent and broken and covered in blood. His eyes locked with mine, wild and wide, mouth gaping in surprise as he tried to say something.
He had barely pushed himself up from the bench when he was yanked back forcefully by the hand still grasped firmly around his horn. His wings fluttered uselessly at his back as he struggled to pull away, one arm flailing as the other grasped his battered face in horror.
Between one moment and the next, he was slammed back into the table, body going limp at the force of it. Some of the nearby githzerai were shouting in alarm, some gasping, and others silent with shock. But they all backed away from the confrontation. Deekin pushed up to stand to his full height on the bench, moving out of range of my spilt beer with wide eyes. His hand had settled on his waist, near where he kept my knife, but he had yet to draw it.
I jumped away from the tiefling, glancing in surprise at Valen's snarling features as he smashed the older man's face into the timber benchtop; three times, four times, five.
Swift, no longer offering up any resistance, collapsed lifelessly onto the table when Valen finally let go with a disgusted huff, shoulders heaving as his eyes snapped between Deekin and me.
"Valen?" I shouted in surprise, jumping away from the table. "What the hell?"
He'd obviously made an attempt at sleep, red hair tousled and wearing only breeches and a clean tunic. But his belt was on, his flail and knives all in their place.
Finally, his eyes landed on the pile of cards, before he frowned in confusion.
The deck was still obscenely intact, the single card was pinned beneath Swift's splayed hand, paper splattered dark with blood.
"I thought—" he glanced between the other tiefling and me. "When you didn't come to the room…" His eyes snapped to the deck and then back to my own, swirling between blue and red and settling on somewhere in between. "You were playing cards? With him?"
My teeth were gritted from the effort of remaining silent, hands balled into fists at the accusation in Valen's eyes.
"It wasn't a social call," I snapped. "I was getting us out of here,"
"Bat-man had trumpet to wake Sleeping Man," Deekin explained helpfully.
With a shaking hand, I reached out and placed a couple of fingers to Swift's neck, checking for a pulse.
Nothing.
I shifted, trying again.
It was there. Faint, but there.
Now that I knew he was alive, I realised that I had hoped to find him dead.
I was now faced with the challenge of what to do with the unconscious tiefling. There was no way he wasn't going to be out for revenge after this…
But Valen knew what to do.
Before I could stop him — would I have stopped him? — he'd pulled the other tiefling's head back with a grim set to his face, eyes flashing red for the barest of moments as he sliced the older man's neck open with one clean stroke of his knife. I jumped back, away from the spray of blood.
"Valen!" I hissed.
With a shake of his head, he let the dead weight drop back onto the table with a thud, staining the timber red.
Tense and ready, I placed a hand on my knife, glancing at the other patrons for sign of attack.
None of them moved to intervene.
Most of the pilgrims had hurried to leave the room at the first sign of the fight. The imp — now with two of his friends — was cackling above us in the rafters, wings fluttering as it hissed something down at Valen in delight.
Valen turned on me, face set in anger and shoulders heaving with each laboured breath.
I glanced back at the table, and at the single card.
"Seven of hearts," I stated flatly.
I could see the confusion shift to understanding in his eyes, I reached forward; pulling the card carefully from below the dead tiefling's hand.
Deekin bent over the table to try and get a look at it.
Huh.
I smirked grimly, flicking it back onto the table; number side up.
The seven of hearts fell to the table between us, blood trickling slowly to cover it.
Eyes back on the tiefling, I snapped pointedly; "I had him where I wanted him."
He stepped away with a sneer, crossing his arms defensively. "I could tell," he hummed, his face a look of open disgust.
Immediately, my cheeks flamed red with embarrassment at the insinuation. The baseless accusation only served to fuel my anger.
To hide it, I knelt beside the dead tiefling with a huff, patting his pockets down. I searched his pants, opened his coat. I searched him a second time.
Nothing. No trumpet.
"Shit!" I hissed.
I pulled away with nought but Swift's room key and a couple of coins.
"Right where you wanted him, huh?" Valen snapped with a raised eyebrow, neck splotchy and red with anger.
"He was supposed to have it on him," I gnashed my teeth.
I was sure he had it on him! I wracked my memory, sure I was right.
Shaking my head roughly, I curled my lip up in anger, pushing to my feet. My chest was tight with frustration, my hands clenched around his key in anger.
Thoughts a scrambled mess, I pushed past Valen, Deekin hurrying to follow by my side.
"And just what do you think would have happened when you went back to his room for the trumpet?" Valen asked suddenly, reaching out to grab my arm and forcing me to face him.
My stomach clenched at the truth of his words, but I pushed the feeling aside. I was an adult, dammit!
"Then I would have handled that, too," I snarled, snatching my arm out of his grasp.
I spun, continuing towards the hallway.
I glanced down at the key, comparing it to the doors as we rushed past them. Deekin managed a glance at it and rushed past me — practically at a run — peering at each of the doors as he passed them.
"He wasn't just some man, that you could put back in his place," Valen hissed from immediately behind me, voice strained. "He was a devil, dammit!"
"And you're a demon," I retorted sharply. "And I've got half a mind to put you in yours. What's your point?"
I was too damn angry to be embarrassed at the petty comparison.
I could feel his seething presence taking up the hallway behind us.
We could have done this without bloodshed — I could have handled this!
"My point is—" Valen paused, sighing. He took a deep wavering breath. "My point is that you could have been hurt," he said, voice choked with emotion.
"There Boss," Deekin piped up.
I didn't say anything more as I made my way to the door the bard had pointed out, matching up the symbols before unlocking it with a grimace.
Inside, it was exactly the same — exactly as bare — as our own had been, the only point of difference being the pack of Swift's belongings open by the bed.
I hurried to the pack, pulling it open with searching hands. It didn't take long for me to find the small metal trumpet amongst his trinkets and clothes.
I held it up for Deekin, before stuffing it back in place, tying the straps and lifting it onto my shoulders with a groan.
"Deekin goes talk to Tavernkeep about mess," he peeked past the glowering tiefling. "We gots understanding," he explained vaguely.
Before I could even open my mouth to object, he was gone.
He'd probably eat the dead tiefling's body whole and call it a day…
I pushed aside the thought of the dragon's toothy grin and the smell of rot that had carried on his breath.
I could feel Valen watching me silently from the doorway, but I refused to turn to him.
"Fine," I muttered to myself, lifting pillows and checking under the bed to ensure I hadn't missed anything. "Someone around here has to trust that we're all capable adults, I guess."
Valen gritted out an exasperated sigh. "That's not—"
I pushed past him, cutting his explanation off and attempting to slam the door on the tiefling, behind me.
My mind hissed at me that that had been a pretty childish move for someone indignant about not being treated like an adult, but I pushed that voice down resolutely.
Valen hurried to hold the closing door open, following me out into the hall as I picked a direction and went with it, marching — hopefully — towards our new room.
I glanced down at my room key, frown deepening at Valen's frustratingly helpful; "Three up on the right."
I took a deep angry breath. "If I want your help, I'll ask for it."
Strike two for childish comments, Enserric piped up in exasperation.
I kicked open our door once it was unlocked, stomping into the room and throwing the tiefling's stolen pack on the ground. The room was sweltering, and I was all of a sudden so very god's-damned hot, face burning and blood boiling.
Valen slammed the door shut behind him, a look of incredulous exasperation on his face, fueling my anger.
How could he not see how insulting his actions had been?
I unfastened my cloak with shaking hands, throwing it to the floor as I paced. This was followed by Enserric and my bow and quiver — my sword's indignant shout at his mistreatment nothing compared to the thumping of blood in my ears.
But still, Valen didn't say anything.
He just stood there like a godsdamned idiot looking all the world like I was the one that had insulted him.
I turned back to the tiefling, face set in a deep angry frown as I approached him.
I jutted a finger at his chest, causing him to back up a step.
"First that stint with the healing potion. And then," I floundered, waving my arms before jabbing a finger in the approximate direction of the dead tiefling. "And then that!"
I pulled my hand back, crossing my arms across my chest and lifting my chin. I narrowed my eyes, blinking roughly at the threat of tears.
He was pale, paler than usual in contrast to the red burn of anger on his neck. He opened his mouth to say something before his frown deepened and he closed it again.
I raised my eyebrow at his silence.
His eyes swirled a purplish-grey, and the muscles in his jaw popped as he ground it, but he kept his anger in check. I should have been thankful for that. I don't think could have stared him down, if his eyes had been flashing red with the full brunt of his rage.
I lifted a palm and pressed it roughly to my eyes, rubbing away a couple of stray tears with a frown.
"You pull shit like that and it makes me think you still don't trust me," I stated finally, shoulders collapsing in defeat. "It makes me feel —"
And then his hands were on my shoulders.
He yanked me roughly to him, slamming his lips against mine.
His lips muffled the sound of my surprised gasp, knocking the breath from my lungs as I blinked in a surprised daze.
His kiss was not gentle, but hot; fiery, passionate and demanding.
He kissed me and the whole world fell away, eyes fluttering closed as I returned the pressure.
My mind went blank, his kiss obliterating every thought, and — for the first time in forever — my mind was firmly locked in the present.
I felt my tense body melting as he held me tighter and tighter and tighter again.
A hand, feverishly hot against my suddenly chill skin, snaked up to rest below my ear, rough thumb caressing my cheek as our breaths mingled. I ran my hands down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us.
I could feel the urgent beating of his heart against my chest, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.
His tongue pressed against the seam of my lips and I readily granted him control.
I reached up, stretching on my toes and tangling my arms across his thick, strong neck. I pulled away for air, arching into his broad body and sighing at his unnatural burning heat against me. Valen chased my lips with his teeth, pulling me back to him with a low rumble of a growl. I could faintly taste the tang of my beer with every demanding push of his tongue against mine. I found my lips smiling against his mouth.
Unexpectedly — for his hands seemed to be everywhere — his rough fingers curled around my hip, settling there and pulling me closer with a rough yank. I could feel all of him, every wonderful inch of his body against mine, and I inhaled sharply at the pressure of his nails digging into my skin for purchase.
I pulled a hand free, knocking him back against the door and forcing the breath from his upturned lips.
He didn't give me any quarter, pulling me into him again — my splayed hand crushed between our chests. I intended to push him away again, but instead it lingered there as I melted under his attention.
His breathing quickened, mine matching it, as he started trailing hungry kisses across my face. He made his way to my throat, nuzzling into the nook of my neck. The warmth radiated from him, spreading through my body.
The stark coldness of outside was an impossible thing of the past.
He buried his face deeper into my neck, and I stretched, pulling him closer.
I felt the scrape of his teeth and then he was pulling at the skin on my throat, causing me to hiss with pain, eyes snapping open in surprise.
I pushed my hand against his chest, but it was crushed in place between us, and he didn't seem to notice.
About to pull away, he beat me to it.
I gasped as his warmth retreated with a final scrape of his teeth.
My heart fluttered inside my chest, legs trembling and almost giving out as he pushed me back, leaving no room for argument as he directed us away from the door. My lips parted to object, but then he was everywhere again, lips crushed hungrily against my own.
I briefly wondered if the door was locked, but the thought was as quick and fleeting as my objection.
As we stumbled back, I felt something curl around my leg and almost jumped at the tingling caress of his tail on my upper thigh. I felt his lips pull up, chest vibrating in a deep chuckle.
Drunk on endorphins, my only desire was to touch him, my hands under his shirt and roving across his hard chest and feeling each perfect inch of him. I savoured his lips, gasping against his mouth — shaking at the sheer promise of the kiss — as the back of my knees hit the bed hard.
He fell onto me, elbows propped on both sides of my head as we landed and our teeth clashing in our desperation. He used the strength of his tail to pull my legs onto the bed after him, legs pinning me in place.
A tremble of delight shook my body; euphoric warmth blossoming in me once more. I was breathless as he showered me with more hungry kisses, each igniting their own flicker of warmth deep within me.
And then, between one deep kiss and the next, I felt him pull back slowly.
I gazed up at him, beyond words.
He spent a moment studying my face, his eyes still a swirl of colours, but with none of the anger and frustration — and what I now suspected was fear — from earlier.
I felt my blush deepen under his scrutiny.
Valen gazed down at me, hair a red halo around his handsome face. His lust-glazed eyes softened into tenderness, before sparking with something more befitting of action.
He tilted my head up and kissed me, his lips demanding but gentle — where before they had been unrelenting. I felt the smouldering heat from before, deep inside me, as Valen's grip tightened, crushing my body to his; gentle yet firm. He slanted my head further, deepening the kiss, as one of his hands roamed down my neck.
He grasped my ribs before moving to cup one of my breasts, thumbing the suddenly too-thick fabric of my leathers and holding me firmly in place.
I shivered in delight…
"Emma," he breathed — so quietly I almost missed it — voice full of wonder.
It was like a bucket of water had been thrown on me.
I tensed, eyes snapping open and jaw clenching. His body was suddenly too heavy, the heat of his body overwhelming. He nuzzled against me searchingly, unsure about the sudden change.
"Wait," I whispered. Clearing my throat, I said it again, my voice louder but no more sure.
He paused, pulling back with a frown. He considered me, eyes swirling in confusion as they roamed over every inch of my face for an answer.
An answer I couldn't give him.
"Valen," I managed through a whispered choke, and — even to my ears — the word felt like a hollow apology.
Hurt flashed across his face momentarily, before he carefully schooled his features in place. He removed his hands slowly, leaning on his elbows and shifting away. His breath was still warm and heavy on my face, cheeks flushed and eyes trapped somewhere between not-blue, but not-red. I shivered as I felt his tail uncoil slowly from around my thigh, skin suddenly cold and pin-pricked with goosebumps.
Suddenly feeling stifled and hot — where before I had felt content and warm — I shimmied up the bed, forcing him to lift further off of me as I propped myself against the headboard. His warm breath disappearing from my cheeks as he backed away slightly, eyes demanding as they searched my own.
I gathered my thoughts, watching as Valen tried to make sense of my sudden cool detachment; my lips still swollen and my chest still heaving with every gasping breath.
My insides twisted painfully.
"Valen," I tried again.
I looked down, kneading my hands together.
His frown deepened as his eyes dropped to my nervously moving hands. He covered them carefully in his own, squeezing them in assurance.
"We can wait," he said, voice low, expression unsure.
I shook my head, feeling that gods-awful sting in my eyes once more.
I lifted a hand gently, smile wavering as I cupped his cheek. He pushed into my touch, letting his eyes drift closed.
"This place..." I took a deep, shaky breath. "You're not yourself."
I'm not who you think I am.
This obviously hadn't been what he'd been expecting, as he stilled, eyes snapping open as he considered me carefully.
Suddenly, a smirk pulled at his lips, and he huffed out a breath through his nose. Smirk growing into a gentle smile, he reached up to grasp my hand. He pulled it down to his beating chest.
"I feel more like myself than I have in a long time," he assured me. "Maybe ever before." Holding my hand in place, his eyes implored me to see the truth of it.
I bit my bottom lip, shaking my head again.
"Even then," I started. "There's no place for someone like you where I come from."
And that was the closest to the truth as I dared to tread.
I expected him to recoil — that had been the plan if I were being honest — but he simply rolled his eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as his thumb caressed my wrist.
"There are few places where a tiefling is wanted." He told me simply. "I had started to hope here, with you, was one of them."
His smile turned sly as his tail curled around my leg once more.
I tried to pull away, a surprised laugh escaping me as the tip of his tail tickled the inside of my thigh with a gentle caress. His eyes crinkled at the corners, twinkling in delight at my response. I batted at his shoulder with my free hand, twisting away from his attention.
He stopped, releasing me and shifting to rest his head on a hand. He was still smiling, but a frown line was firmly in place between his dark brows as he looked down at me. He was so close that I could reach up and kiss him and that would be that.
"Your excuses are starting to sound hollow, my lady," he hummed.
As he spoke, he ran a hand over my cheek and down my chin, coming to rest against the side of my neck.
His eyes glanced down at my lips and up again.
I shivering with delight and wishing suddenly that I could have just turned everything off for a bit longer and enjoyed the moment. This conversation could have come after.
He might not know my name, but he knew me. Wasn't that enough?
I closed my eyes against his touch, already knowing the answer.
I knew it wasn't enough.
It wasn't just my name I was hiding from him. I was hiding my past, and — more pointedly — my future; a future that he could be no part of.
As much as I wished I could have just lived in the moment and given us tonight, I knew I could not.
It was easier this way. If I'd let this go on, it would only make things harder for both of us.
I opened my eyes slowly, lifting a hand to still his fingers where they caressed my neck gently, eyes never leaving his own.
"We have such a massive task ahead of us, Valen," I said with a small sad smile. "Getting out of here and defeating Mephistopheles will be one of the hardest things we've ever done. We need to be focused." I tried to smile. "If we get through this, we can explore this, us, after."
I willed him to listen to me, unsure if I could reject him a single time more, but certain that — when this was all said and done — that I couldn't stay with him.
I had to go home.
And home was no place for someone like him.
He searched my eyes again, frown deepening as a barrage of emotions crossed his face. The lazy smile of tentative happiness was ultimately chased away by understanding and disappointment.
But, I think what hurt the most was the glimmer of hope that remained.
"After," he repeated with an unsure humm.
He pulled away to sit beside me, mulling something over in his mind.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped to mine.
"No, first I must say this," he insisted. "We might meet our end at any moment, and there might not be an after." His hand found mine on the bed between us and my stomach clenched at the familiarity of his words; different, but oh so similar to how I remembered them. "I would not die again with this unsaid."
I pulled my hand away slowly, lifting it to chase the hurt frown from his face, cupping his cheek once more. Unable to bear his pure blue gaze a moment longer, I lent forward, touching my forehead to his. "After, Valen." I said, letting my eyes drop closed. "Please."
I hated myself at that moment. Too weak to break it off properly, and too weak to tell him the truth and risk him deciding for me.
Sensing that this was not something I could be swayed on — and perhaps thinking that he had moved too fast for me, after everything that had happened the past couple of days — he relented, nodding silently.
I bit the inside of my cheek, wishing both that it had not let it go this far, and that we did not need to stop.
It doesn't need to stop, a small part of my brain shouted at me. I immediately shut it down. If I let this continue further, leaving would be that much more difficult than it already would be.
And I needed to leave; this wasn't my home.
And I missed my family so much that it hurt. And, more than anything, I needed them to know that I was okay.
We let the moment wash over us, Valen shifting onto one side of the bed.
He pulled me up against his side, an arm around my back in a manner than very much did not follow the whole after rule.
But I let us have this moment.
"After," Valen hummed, starling me from my thoughts. "Would you consider travelling somewhere where we could both be at home," he mused, voice taking on a wistful tone. His voice dropped, and I glanced at the sheepish blush on his cheeks. "Sigil could be that for us."
I perked up suddenly, eyes widening as I realised that Sigil might very well be the place I needed to go to get home.
For what better place to find a door to my world, than from the City of Doors?
"You know what, Valen?" I hummed, a smile curling my lips. "I'd like that."
We lay like that for some time more, passion and hurt fading away into something a little more tentative and nervous. We enjoyed each other's warmth, as we waited for Deekin to return, neither of us willing to break the companionable silence we had found in this moment.
I think I could have stayed there for many hours more, if it weren't for Deekin's tentative knock, door handle turning as he tested it.
At the attempt, Valen very nearly jumped out of the bed, causing me to hit my shoulders against the bed frame with a surprised laugh.
His cheeks reddened as he hurried to let the demanding kobold in, the little bard's raspy voice calling to us from the hall.
I greeted Deekin gruffly before turning over to finally sleep, conscious that the night was getting away from us.
"Night Deeks." I said, and then, more quietly; "Goodnight, Valen."
I nestled into the warmth that his body had left behind.
The kobold curled onto the foot of my bed carefully, pulling the spare blanket over himself with a content sigh.
I warred between contentment and restlessness, my chest swelling at the warmth the memory of his touch brought, only to be chased away by the painful knowledge that whatever this was would all be over soon.
Eyes snapping open, I suddenly realised my mistake.
I'd promised him an after — after Cania, after Mephistopheles — as I'd thought it would no longer matter once we were done with this mess.
In my mind, we were always going to be parting ways when everything was done.
I'd thought that maybe I would leave in the night, without a trace. Or I would leave my notebook to explain everything. Sometimes Deekin would travel with me, sometimes he wouldn't. On the rare occasion, I dared to contemplate parting with Valen — and once upon a time, Nathyrra — with an honest goodbye, as friends.
But the same thing rung true in every scenario; I always left as soon as Mephistopheles was defeated.
Saying after had simply been a way to postpone the inevitable.
But now, I needed Valen to get me to Sigil, to help me find a portal. Something that — whilst not impossible —would not be quick or easy without him.
I swallowed, realising suddenly that I was going to have to tell him the truth… Or something very much like it.
And — after that — this all hinged on him wanting to help me.
Sighing, I turned, blinking into the room. The room was dark, lit only by whatever glowed red hot beyond the grates.
Valen lay on top of the blankets on his back, completely still but for the slow rise and fall of his chest. I could see the slight reflective glow of his eyes, a feature both he and the drow seemed to share in low light. He stared up at the ceiling, his expression impossible to decipher in the dark.
I'd really made a mess of things.
Sleep didn't come easily that night. And, hearing the gentle toss and turn of the tiefling on the other side of the room, I realised it didn't for him either.
NOTEBOOK EXTRACT
The next bit is in Jane's messy handwriting, a short and to the point description of the City of Doors.
Sigil
Alias': The Cage, the Birdcage, The City of Doors, Little Ring, The Laugh and Giggle.
Location: Its location is still apparently up for debate, but Valen's heard that it's the centre of the multiverse; thus connecting it to the prime material plane and all other known — and unknown — planes. It is named the City of Doors, for the portals connecting it to all other planes.
Features: Sigil is the shape of a torus; the city located on the inside of the ring.
Government: The Lady of Pain
Does it link to Earth? This is underlined.