Note: I'm not sure whether Salvatore has told what colour Jarlaxle's eyes are, so I chose the colour myself. If, however, the colour is mentioned somewhere, tell me. I'll correct it in the text.



Chapter 6: To find out the truth about one's heart



Carpe diem. Seize the day. Horatio



A week had passed. Entreri was walking in Waukeen's promenade, the official trading area of Athkatla. It was an unusually sunny day for the climate of Athkatla, and the square was filled with people. The circus established in the square had hired new people, who were displaying their talents outside the circus tent. Children were gathered to watch them, and their happy voices reminded Entreri of something that he had lost many years ago.



The assassin shook the memories away, like he had done so many times. Those thoughts, and the feelings they could have awakened, didn't matter. He stopped when two small boys almost ran into him. Their mother apologized and then rushed after the boys, who had already ran to a sword-swallower and were trying to steal his swords.



"Oh, hello. I didn't expect to see you here." Shandara stepped from the crowd and stopped in front of him, eyeing his dark clothes with an amused smile. "Isn't that outfit a bit warm? Well, at least your not wearing armour like them," she continued without waiting for his response, pointing at two guards standing near. "No wonder they are not very smart; that helmet must grill their brains."



"I've noticed that they really aren't the smartest people around," Entreri said and Shandara gasped, slapping her hand to her mouth. "You actually speak to me! Sorry," she said when Entreri gave her a cold look. "You have to admit you're not one of the friendliest people around. I'm not saying anything about you being smart or not," she added hurriedly, grinning.



"You speak too much," Entreri said calmly. He had decided that he wouldn't let the woman, or any other whore who had tried to have conversation with him the past week, to annoy her. This could be difficult, however, he thought, when Shandara's grin became even more evil. "I talk too much and you talk too little," she said. "I think that..." her words were cut when something whirled past her face and landed on the street.



"A fish?" she asked from Entreri, who looked as surprised as she did. "Either we're witnessing a strange phenomenon of nature, or..." Another fish swirled towards them, but Entreri caught it before it hit Shandara's face. The people around them were looking around, trying to find the source of the flying fish.



"You kids, stop that this instant!" an angry voice bellowed. A fish seller, who had left his stall unguarded for a moment, was trying to chase away four little children, who were throwing fish to the crowd, laughing and cheering.



"This is too much," Shandara laughed, tears flowing from her eyes. "Are you going to keep that?" she continued and Entreri realized that he was still holding the fish. He dropped it and gave Shandara another cold look, but it didn't seem to have any great effect. The woman drew a deep breath and stopped laughing, but her eyes were still sparkling with joy.



"I'm so sorry," the fish seller said, walking to them while parents were dragging away their children, who were crying that they wanted to fly more fish. "I hope your dress didn't get dirty," he continued, eyeing at Shandara, who was wearing a forest green dress that was made of light fabric so it swirled softly in the warm wind.



"I'm grateful of your concern, but are you aware that the part you are looking at doesn't contain much fabric?" Shandara asked in a sweet voice. The seller lifted his eyes from her neck line and breasts and met her green eyes that weren't as sweet as her voice had been. He took a step back, coughed and continued: "I'm sorry. I really am," he continued. "Here, I'll give you a..."



"I have no need for your fish," Shandara said slowly, her eyes darkening. "I'll just take my leave now, good sir." The last words sounded a more like an insult, but the seller stayed quiet. Shandara turned around and started to walk away, snatching Entreri's arm and drawing him away. "Bastard," she muttered. "Not you," she continued when Entreri looked at her questioningly. "I'd never call you a bastard straight to your face."



"That is meant to make me feel better?" Entreri asked, smiling a bit. Shandara stopped near the exit of the promenade and leaned to a shadowy wall. "I don't know. Does it?" she asked. "I mean, he lets some children throw fish, which weren't very fresh, let me tell you that, and can't even apologize without staring at my breasts! It's not like they're even big or... You probably don't want to hear this," she said when Entreri simply stared at her. "Sorry."



"What else do you expect?" Entreri asked suddenly. "If you dress like that, you shouldn't think people are going to treat you as nothing more than..."



"A common whore that I am?" Shandara asked, raising an eyebrow. "Although I would love to discuss moral issues with an assassin, I should head back to the guild. I've been insulted enough for one day," Shandara sighed. "It's got all to do with choices," she said in a serious tone. "I can choose to dress like this. People can choose the way they react. And if some idiot chooses to be... Well, an idiot, and stare at my breasts like they are the most important part of me, it's his choice. I can't change that. But I'm boring you," she said in a more lighthearted tone. "I'll just leave now and you can go back to your shopping. I'll be seeing you," she added, with a wink, and then walked away, leaving Entreri in the middle of the masses of Athkatla.





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"I'm still saying you should change the way you hold your sword. It would help you in battle."



Isaldora glared at Jarlaxle and then said slowly: "You asked me to train with you and I agreed. I didn't come here to have a lesson in fighting techniques." She had to admit that the drow still made her nervous. And it was mostly because of his eyes.



In the stories she had been told about the bloodthirsty dark elves, their eyes had always glowed with the read of infravision, and the red of the innocent blood their swords shed. In daylight, however, Jarlaxle's eyes were the colour of silver. And during the last week Isaldora had noticed that she met those eyes more often than what was good for her.



They were members of the same guild, Isaldora had told herself, so she had to learn to get along with the drow. But there were many other members who she had hardly ever talked to, and still didn't make any effort to get to know them. The drow intrigued her, and she couldn't explain to herself why.



"Could you even pretend you're concentrating?" Jarlaxle asked, enjoying the annoyed look that rose to the elf's face. He hadn't found out as much about the woman as he would have wanted to, but he had learned some things. More would come, he was determined of that.



"I am concentrating," Isaldora answered sharply. "So stop complaining and let's begin."



"Whatever you say," Jarlaxle grinned and attacked. He was using two long swords, while Isaldora had only one long sword. The elf had cast stoneskin spells on them so that the weapons wouldn't do much damage, and Jarlaxle knew that he could only hurt her pride.



Jarlaxle's first attack was lazy, he simply wanted to find out how Isaldora moved. The elf handled her sword well, blocking Jarlaxle's strikes with no trouble at all. "If you want to train, train! Don't play," Isaldora yelled and attacked. Jarlaxle was almost fooled by her movement; she aimed her hit towards Jarlaxle's right side, but then tried to kick him on the knee. The drow noticed how she shifted her balance and swirled away, blocking Isaldora's strike and launching a counter-attack, almost managing to knock the sword off from her hand.



"I'm not playing," he responded when Isaldora backed away. The problem were her eyes, Jarlaxle thought when he blocked another attack. She allowed her eyes to show more than what was good for her. He could find out her next move by looking into her eyes, and even her best attacks failed because of this. Her movements were good, although Jarlaxle found that there was much to improve in her swordplay. Then again, if she would be launching spells at the same time that she was using her sword, the situation would be different.



"This is enough," Isaldora gasped after Jarlaxle had, though barely, blocked her best attack. "Training with you is like beating practice dummies; I don't get the pleasure of winning!"



"You were doing well," Jarlaxle said, lowering his weapons. "Your eyes are the biggest problem." "My eyes?" Isaldora asked, surprised. "What do my eyes have got to do with this?"



"They show what you think," Jarlaxle answered, walking to the door and laying his swords on a small table. "I could see almost every move from your eyes. And your balance faltered a couple of times."



"What should I do then?" Isaldora asked, hardly believing that she was asking for advice from a drow. "I can't fight with my eyes closed."



"Learn to lie with your eyes," Jarlaxle said. "Keep your thoughts and feelings inside and reveal only what you want to."



"Is that something you're taught?" Isaldora said sharply. Jarlaxle shook his head and walked to her, staring into her eyes. "If you mean to ask if drows are taught to do that, then no. It's not necessary. We should already know it. But sometimes it's hard to hide your feelings," he said, his voice becoming softer.



"I'll go now," the elf said, slipping past him. "Thank you for the lesson. I'll... think about what you said." She gave him one last, scared look and hurried away. Jarlaxle smiled. He liked the elf; her blue eyes, blond hair and shy smile that he would have wanted to see more often. They had talked only a couple of times, but Jarlaxle had noticed that she wasn't the fearful maiden he had thought she'd be when he had first seen her. There was something about her that made Jarlaxle at the same time uncertain and even more interested.



The drow picked up his hat and put it on. While waiting for the mystery of Isaldora to unravel he would have some time to make better acquaintance with a beautiful, blond human woman who he had talked with before training with Isaldora. No point in wasting time.





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"It's so strange," Isaldora muttered, sitting on Shandara's bed and staring at the wall. Shandara cursed herself once again for trying to bring Jarlaxle and Isaldora together. She hadn't expected that the elf would be in her room every night, talking about the dark elf and going through every word of every conversation, trying to find out something about the drow.



"I'm sure it is," Shandara sighed, curling up in the armchair. She reached for a box of chocolate, which she had purchased earlier that day from Waukeen's promenade. "You want some?"



"No, thank you," Isaldora sighed. "It's his eyes, they make me so..."



"Oh for the love of gods!" Shandara cried and Isaldora gave her a baffled look. "You are completely, absolutely attracted to him. Why do you sit here and complain? Why don't you do something?"



"You're wrong!" Isaldora said angrily. "What do you know about..." her voice faded under Shandara's calm stare. "Well, I'm a professional in attraction. Or lust. Whatever you wish to call it. Sleep with him."



"So that's your great advice, is it? 'Sleep with him'? Works for you every time, does it?" Isaldora got up angrily. "You know nothing about true feelings!"



"So you have true feelings towards him?" Shandara asked, grinning slyly. Isaldora stared at her for a moment and then sat down again. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm sorry," she added a moment later. "I shouldn't have said that you're..."



"Never mind about that," Shandara replied. "You know what you should do? Take the chocolate, go to your room and for once read one of those romance novels I gave you. Not actually the best help for real life, but they offer a nice escape from reality."



"Did you have some plans for tonight?" Isaldora asked. "You seem so eager to get rid of me."



"A moment of pure lust with absolutely no true feelings with that blond swashbuckler. Timothy, was he?" Shandara said smiling dreamily. "No money involved, just fun."



"He's younger than you," Isaldora said in an accusing tone. "He just turned twenty."



"Isaldora, I'm twenty-six. It's not like I'm some sad old woman, trying to seduce young men in order to regain some of her lost youth. Wait for twenty years and make that accusation then. And it's not like you have any worries, you'll be as beautiful as now after twenty years."



"I think I'll take the chocolate," Isaldora muttered. "What is it that you want from life?" she asked when she had reached the door. "Are you going to continue like this, sleeping with men whenever you feel like it?"



"Men do that, why can't I?" Shandara said calmly. "I just don't... Maybe I'm not the best person to give you advice when it comes to relationships, alright! I live for the moment," she said, and Isaldora could have sworn that Shandara's voice sounded a bit sad. "But you should live for something else. Talk to him, don't just lurk around and adore him from far away. Find out what he thinks about you. The real you, the woman you, not just the fighter or the mage."



"And you say you're not good at giving advice?" Isaldora laughed. "That was maybe the best advice I've ever heard. Thank you."



"Yes, yes," Shandara muttered when Isaldora tried to hug her. "Go now. I have to go and meet Timothy. I hope that's his name," she muttered. "Well, no worries, I'll have to think of something else to say. Or maybe I won't talk at all," she said. Isaldora shook her head laughing, and left.



Shandara looked at her image from her mirror and sighed. Maybe her life wasn't perfect, but at least she had a life, and a freedom to make choices. She changed her clothes, checked her reflection once again and then hurried to the corridor. Life's not perfect, but this night would make it a bit better, at least for a while.