Chapter 19
Intimacy
"Winter?"
Someone knocked on the door to the chamber, and you looked up from the foot of the bed, senses muffled by sleep, with a bad taste in your mouth, but rising slowly back to alertness. Winter, predictably, slept on peacefully. She had been sleeping – or unconscious – for quite a while. After staying conscious long enough to see that Jarlaxle was getting treated, she had then allowed Rai'gy to herd her away to rest. Irr'liancrea was still embedded in Jarlaxle's desk, for all you knew.
The guest chamber was painfully empty – just the bed and a stone table none the worse for wear. Old smells told you that this room had, more often than not, been used for a sick room.
Winter felt unbelievably cold. If you were to stand an inch or so away from her, you would feel the cold actually radiating from her skin as she somehow, slowly, began to merge it back into her and bring herself back to a 'normal' temperature. But, as Rai'gy said, it would take time – and a longer time for her body to recover from the damage the cold would wreck. At least with a blanket between her and yourself, you did not feel much.
At least frost had stopped forming on her, which Rai'gy said was a good sign.
At least she was not 'in danger of dying' as Kimmuriel had observed.
At least...
The twins occasionally came in to warm Winter's extremities magically – fingers, toes and ears, speak amongst themselves about inconsequential things, then wander off. You decided to nap on her feet – a living hot water bottle, Veldrin had said (and giggled). But there was nothing much else to do in this place.
The door opened, and Jarlaxle stepped in, wearing plain robes for once, his normal hard black boots and some bangles on his wrists and ankles, though no hat. Apparently plans were still underway to recover the rest of his clothing from House Baenre. Jewelry clashed noisily on each other as he turned to close the door, then were silent as he walked to the bed and sat down on the edge.
You wondered if growling was a good idea, this close. Triel Baenre had probably confiscated his dagger-glove sheaths, as they were missing, but that did not make him seem any less dangerous.
Jarlaxle took one of Winter's limp hands, looked startled at how cold it was, and then rubbed them absently with his own. He gave no indication that he knew of your presence, or even cared of it, but continued to stare at Winter's serene features.
You studied him curiously. You had no idea how much time had already passed since the rescue, but he looked like he had made a remarkable recovery. Perhaps Rai'gy had managed to use his healing spells, or perhaps it was one of their miraculous potions. Other than a certain haunted look in his eyes, and the lack of the clothes which he was famous for, he looked like the mercenary leader of old, and nothing like the bloody ruin which had been thrown off Baenre's balcony.
Without much light in the room you had to use infrared vision, and Winter seemed alarmingly cool in it, only the barest of life-signals. The only light – magelight of a particularly weird hue of yellow, courtesy of Ssussun, cast distorted shadows on the ground and on Winter's face.
Not much of a wonder Rai'gy was so concerned...but she had only done this for three Narbondel-cycles. What had happened to her when she held out for nine?
You did not really want to know.
However, on more important matters, Winter was not conscious now, and Irr'liancrea far away. You did not know what the mercenary leader may attempt, and for a short moment considered trying to drive him away. But his actions now were innocuous enough, and you had the feeling he wanted to talk to Winter rather than to try something else with her. He gave no indication that he was still angered by what she had done to him before she had left Menzoberranzan.
After some time Winter's fingers twitched, then twined themselves around Jarlaxle's in a half-aware movement. She let out a sleepy murmur, stirred, then frowned slightly. Her fingers froze, then curled around Jarlaxle's hand again as she opened an eye.
"Well...you look better," she said shortly, rather laboriously, made an effort to smile, then closed her eye again.
"You look worse," Jarlaxle remarked dryly, then added gallantly, "Jhal izil ssin'urn izil p'los, *" and brought her fingers up to brush them with a light, teasing kiss.
Winter opened her eyes again, and chuckled. "Bel'la dos, s'lurrppur *."
"Hmm." You could not see what Jarlaxle did next, but Winter jerked her hand from his grip, then made an effort to push herself up into a sitting position, failing rather miserably. Jarlaxle, oddly, or not oddly, did not help her. Finally she propped herself up on her elbows, half-sitting up, half-lying down, making the pose seem languorous instead of helpless.
"Did you give it to them?" Winter asked bluntly.
"Give what?" Jarlaxle asked innocently, reaching for her hand again. She pulled it out of reach.
"You know perfectly well. Morikan, for someone...who had just undergone torture, you seem remarkably...playful." Winter spoke in short, broken bursts, still tired, weariness making her frank.
Jarlaxle was silent. Winter looked first defiantly demanding, then suspicious, and then finally contrite. "Jarlaxle, I apologize if..."
"Nav...you had a right to ask," Jarlaxle cut off her apology, his voice serious now, flat, with a suggestion of tired horror, more like what you would have thought Jarlaxle to look like. "I did not give it to them."
"You did not? I had underestimated you, then," Winter said frankly, meaning to sound jovial, but not quite succeeding. She slid back into a reclining and more comfortable position, at ease now.
"But I would have," Jarlaxle whispered. "The next time, or the time after that."
The silence after this admission was even longer and strained. Winter, embarrassed and mortified at her lack of tact, and Jarlaxle...well, you did not truly understand the mercenary leader. When you put him under a category, then he would go and do something else, which would make him more confusing than before.
But she did not say something cheery like 'but you did not', or say something sympathetic, which would have made it worse. Both of them knew that.
This time, Winter reached for him, and he took her hand gently, a simple if poignant gesture of trust, mutual alliance, understanding and comfort.
"When do you think you would recover?" Jarlaxle pushed the conversation onto neutral ground.
Winter smiled comfortably – or complacently. "The last time, I took six months."
"Six months!" Jarlaxle whistled. "You take a lot of trouble to keep your word."
The smile lingered. "I like to gamble. However I think this time I should not take half as long."
"Reima is still a threat." Jarlaxle pointed out.
"You may have to work without me, then." Winter shrugged painfully. "You would have had to do that in the beginning. Irr'liancrea and I do not work with Crenshinibon."
"Not even with me?" Jarlaxle said teasingly.
"Nav." Winter said seriously, refusing to be baited.
"Then why did you help me?"
"I gave my word." Winter murmured, as if about to sleep.
"Winter," Jarlaxle said sharply.
Winter, alert again, apparently decided to answer truthfully. "Because, as I once said, both my shard and I think you would be the best one now to be Crenshinibon's wielder. You have the will. Better than Triel, at least." She paused, then smiled wickedly. "And because I like you."
"Ah." This last seemed to have worked where pretending to fall asleep and asking him embarrassing questions had failed to do – stun Jarlaxle into speechlessness.
"The twins would help," Winter continued mildly.
"Twins? You mean Veldrin and Ssussun?" Jarlaxle regained his composure quickly.
"Xas. How many followers do they have now?" Winter chuckled.
"Lost count," Jarlaxle sighed. "You brought them here on purpose." An accusation.
"Yes I did." Winter smirked. "They told me they found drow elves...'adorable', I believe."
"Until the snow finishes melting, at least some of my soldiers have something to do," Jarlaxle said, not disturbed at all. Now it was Winter who looked off-balance, and you wondered if this was a game between the both of them. Neither would acknowledge it if you confronted either of them with it, though.
"They have power enough to help," Winter observed.
"Would they?"
"Most likely," Winter said lightly. "They do get attached to their playmates...and Reima may also be after them. Did you see him?"
"Nav." Jarlaxle shook his head.
"Pity." Winter murmured to herself, "But not much of a surprise."
"Are those abbilen of yours succubi?" Jarlaxle asked dryly, jokingly.
"Close." Winter replied impishly. Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow. "They are of balor and of angels."
"More of balor, I would think," Jarlaxle observed, refusing to voice the normal exclamation when faced with such an admission (What?). Winter chuckled.
"Their mother may be proud to hear you say that."
"Mother?"
"Have you heard of the name Raelmaztigar?"
You wondered if this was conversation for conversation's sake, or truly for information.
"The red lion?" Jarlaxle frowned with the effort of dredging his memory.
"Remarkable." Winter said teasingly. "You actually know."
"As you yourself said earlier," Jarlaxle bantered, "You underestimate me."
"Don't use my words against me," Winter scolded.
"Why not? Since they are obviously of such great learning and justification," Jarlaxle said archly.
"If you are going to be sarcastic you can go and do it somewhere else," Winter pretended to withdraw her hand. Jarlaxle hung on to it.
"But no one else here appreciates it," he grinned outrageously.
"Is that a compliment?" Winter said suspiciously, though a smile was in her eyes.
"Would you like it to be?"
"No, because if it were I may be obliged to return the favor." Winter fenced and parried.
"How blunt." Jarlaxle chided, "You do not like compliments?"
"Not barbed ones," Winter retorted, "Or those which are clearly flattery."
"Then what would you consider a compliment?" Jarlaxle chuckled, light-hearted now.
"You could tell me that I am beautiful." Winter said with an absolutely straight face.
"Very vain," Jarlaxle observed.
"Then again, coming from you, that may not be a compliment after all," Winter said innocently. "You would call a haszak * beautiful if you thought it would gain you an advantage."
"True," Jarlaxle admitted, then tried again, impishly. "What if I were to mean it?"
"I know your ability to go through truth detectors, Jarlaxle," Winter replied tartly, "You could call your skin purple and get away with it."
"Am I that much of a scoundrel?" Jarlaxle said with mock astonishment.
"Worse." Winter said, with wicked truth. "Now, I think I would like to continue sleeping, if you do not mind." She pointedly closed her eyes.
Jarlaxle did not move.
Winter apparently knew this would happen. Her breathing slowed, finally, into the steady rhythm of sleep.
Jarlaxle shook his head in mild wonder. "She meant it," he murmured, sounding surprised, but did not leave the room.
You decided to try. Standing up awkwardly on the soft bed, you padded over to the mercenary and gingerly nosed him in the shoulder. He turned to regard you, and you bared your teeth and growled softly. Go away.
Instead of saying something, or flinching away, Jarlaxle chuckled and patted you with his free hand. You considered the consequences of taking it off with a well-placed bite, then decided that Winter would probably get upset. Besides, it would make a bloody mess on the bed. So you settled for nudging him again pointedly.
"You want me to go away?" Jarlaxle seemed as immovable as a large rock.
You nodded your head, and poked him, this time with a paw.
"What if I do not want to?" he challenged.
You bared your teeth.
He did not back down, but merely watched you calmly. "Do you want a fight?"
You did not respond to that, but braced yourself in case he did.
"I would not think Winter would want a fight now," Jarlaxle said, half to himself, half to yourself, but turned his back on you. Surprised, you closed your mouth with a snap, unsure as to what to do next. Jarlaxle refused to be intimidated or invited out...but you did not want a scene here, where Winter needed rest.
Now what?
Jarlaxle spoke up next. "Would you rather we pretended that the both of us did not exist?" He half-turned to look at you, and you realized that he was grinning, a little devilishly.
You shrugged the best a wolf could, refusing to be charmed. Frankly, at times you wished he did not exist.
"Would you rather we had a truce?" Jarlaxle continued.
Uncertain, you shifted your weight, paws sinking into the bed, unstable ground. Jarlaxle would have a better advantage in a scuffle now, though you were close enough to snap his neck with your jaws.
"What do you not like about me?" he asked, yet another strange question.
What did you not...faced with a direct question, you could not think of an answer. You shrugged again.
"Well done," Jarlaxle chuckled.
"Stop teasing Kel, Jarlaxle," Winter said, awake again. Her eyes were half-lidded with amusement, and you wondered how long she had been listening, or if she had even been asleep at all.
"I am not teasing your abbil," Jarlaxle said archly, and turned to you. "Was I teasing you?"
You shot Winter a glance, then held Jarlaxle's gaze and nodded slowly.
Jarlaxle glared at you, but Winter began to chuckle. "Bel'la dos, Kel. Now, do you have anything else to say, Jarlaxle?"
"Xas," Jarlaxle said indignantly.
Winter interrupted before he got further. "Never you mind, I do not think I wish to hear it. Isn't there something better for you to do?"
"Until the city defrosts, no," Jarlaxle stroked her hand lightly, "I would have you know that your...plan just destroyed a few Bregan D'aerthe schemes in a few Houses."
"Too bad," Winter said with supreme indifference. "How did you know it was mine, really? I saw them show you the snow behind a window once...and they appeared to be asking you questions about whether you knew this would happen, whether this was your fault..."
"I was not very sure," Jarlaxle admitted, "Though I knew that it was very possibly your work...although I had not heard of the 'first time' you attempted this in Irinelaeran."
"They hushed it up," Winter nodded. "So how did you guess? What you said seemed to be important in getting them to toss you off the balcony."
"You did give some indications," Jarlaxle shrugged.
"The snow?"
"Nav."
"The...animated sculptures? I had a few likenesses there of..."
"Nav...did not notice those."
"The wording of the Snow King's speech?"
"I could not hear him."
"Then?"
"The word for 'idiot' in svirfneblin that appeared in large letters on the courtyard," Jarlaxle admitted.
Winter snickered. "I thought that would serve to get your attention...and I was feeling exasperated with you. But you did not know I could write svirfneblin."
"Nav...but I decided to gamble." Jarlaxle smiled, and threw back her words in her face. "I like to gamble."
"What did I say about using my words?" Winter returned his smile.
"Hmm?" Jarlaxle brought her hand up to his mouth again.
Winter twisted her hand, and gently touched his cheek, caressing. "At least you're warm," she said absently, and shivered. What she said did not appear to have any relevance at all, but Jarlaxle did not question her.
"Well," he said silkily, "I could..."
Winter chuckled, interrupting before he could put forward his probably improper suggestion. "Nav."
Jarlaxle shrugged, unfazed, and pressed her hand to his mouth, then replaced it gently on the bed, uncurling from the bed with grace.
"Jarlaxle..." Winter blinked, probably wondering, as you did, why Jarlaxle was going to leave so suddenly.
He didn't.
"Hmm?" he bent over and gently lifted her shoulders off the bed, sat down, then cradled her to himself, right arm lazily around her waist, resting her head on his shoulder, supporting her back with his other arm.
"Jarlaxle..." Winter protested, but snuggled closer instead of pulling away.
"Warmer now?" he chuckled.
"Not really...but more comfortable," she said dryly. "I will not be warmer for a while yet."
"Is there anything I can do?" Jarlaxle asked slyly, but he knew the answer.
"Nav," Winter closed her eyes, then snapped them open. "However, you could let me sleep." she pushed away his right hand, which was getting a little too bold.
"You have been sleeping for at least a cycle," Jarlaxle said defensively, but stayed his hand.
"Only?" Winter said archly.
"And about food..."
"Irr'liancrea took care of that." Winter clapped her right hand on Jarlaxle's as he attempted to stroke her thighs. "Jarlaxle! If I have to use magic to throw you out of here..."
"Will you?" Jarlaxle smiled.
"If I must," Winter retorted, but twisted herself up, the blanket falling away, the robes which were a copy of the twin's dropping away to reveal a large amount of left leg, from just under the hip to well below the knee, where the blanket served to cover the rest. Winter pretended innocently to be unaware of this, but Jarlaxle appeared to stop breathing.
"Ssinssress," he muttered under his breath.
"Ussa?" Winter asked near his ear, with feigned astonishment. She batted Jarlaxle's hand away and placed his arm firmly over her waist. Undaunted, Jarlaxle converted the loose hold into an intimate embrace, but this time, Winter merely chuckled.
"Is this a new sort of torture?" he asked lightly, but his voice become slightly husky.
Winter half-closed her eyes. "Tell me you're not enjoying it."
Jarlaxle's eyes twinkled. "I am not..."
"And you add perjury to your many faults." Winter retorted. "Now if you do not mind, I am going to sleep."
"Nav, I do not mind," Jarlaxle said slyly.
Winter closed her eyes, but continued, "Kel, if he tries something, you have my permission to bite him."
With pleasure.
Jarlaxle sighed.
--
Language:
Jhal izil ssin'urn izil p'los: But as beautiful as before
Bel'la dos, s'lurrppur: Thank you, flatterer
Haszak: illithid