Note: I had a writer's block for two weeks... I was visiting my family and for some reason I can never concentrate on writing there. Basically I have been planning this chapter so long and it still makes no sense...
Chapter 8: Sunny day with good company
Ut ameris, amabilis esto. Be lovable to be loved. Ovid
"What about this?" Jarlaxle asked, picking up a strange, purple fruit. Isaldora stared at the fruit, and at the drow, who now looked like an ordinary, white skinned elf with blond hair. She hadn't been sure whether her illusion would work, or whether she even wanted it to work, but in the end she was glad she had tried it. Now that she wasn't concentrating on the skin, she was starting to see better.
"I have no idea," she admitted, staring at the fruit. "But I wouldn't eat it. Looks a bit..."
"Madam, I sell only the best products," the trader said in a shocked voice. Jarlaxle handed him the fruit and bowed. "I'm sure you do, but we'll have to think about this," the drow said and took Isaldora's arm. "Good day to you," he said to the baffled man and lead Isaldora to the crowd that had once again gathered in the busy Waukeen's Promenade.
"'We'll have to think about this'?" Isaldora asked laughing. "What is there to think?"
"I didn't want to hurt that poor man's feelings," Jarlaxle said smirking. "If he has to earn his living by selling those terrible things, we should show him some kindness."
"You're strange," Isaldora said still laughing. "And not like I thought you'd be."
"Like drows would be, you mean?" Jarlaxle asked quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to them. The word 'drow' had done that in many places, when someone had run ahead and told them that they had seen a drow. The people of some small village had already been waiting for them with their weapons bared when Jarlaxle had first entered the village with Entreri. He had expected it, of course, but still the intolerance of people always amazed him.
"Maybe," Isaldora replied and shrugged. "But I'm beginning to realize that skin isn't everything."
"Many times it is," Jarlaxle responded. "Now, can I offer you something to drink?" he continued before Isaldora had any time to ask the questions that Jarlaxle's response had brought to her mind. The drow pointed to a small café someone had set up near the circus tent.
"You seem almost too perfect," Isaldora muttered. "What is it that you actually want from me?" Jarlaxle grinned, flashing his white teeth. "I want nothing from you, except the pleasure of your company," he responded, hoping that this didn't go too far. Shandara had warned him not to try to be too romantic, but the mercenary had experience, and he knew that women needed at least some amount of flattery. And he had been right; Isaldora looked away, blushing a bit.
"There's no need for that," she said, her voice a bit shaky. "But if you're buying, I'll come," she added smiling. Jarlaxle was impressed; the woman had a modest style that was very different of the other women Jarlaxle had accompanied in the surface. Sharlotta Vespers had wanted to advance in the guild and had used him as much as he had used her. And the few prostitutes... Jarlaxle realized he didn't even remember what they had looked like. They hadn't meant anything to him.
"Not like you," Jarlaxle muttered. "Nothing important," he said when Isaldora looked at him questioningly. He guided her to the café and to an empty table. "Sit down, I'll go and buy the drinks. What can I get you?"
"Just some orange juice," Isaldora laughed. "It's too early for anything stronger and I need to practise later today."
"Really? Do you need any help?" he asked, flashing Isaldora a bright smile. She looked at him and then shook her head. "I'm not sure. Buy me the juice first, I'll think about it."
"Whatever my lady wishes," Jarlaxle said and noticed that Isaldora almost started to laugh. He was glad; he had overcome at least few of her barriers, and more would fall to the ground later. He had decided to get the elf woman, and he was ready to put some effort into the task. He marched to the counter, where a young elf girl was selling drinks. He flashed a smile to the girl and felt rather amused when the girl blushed and almost dropped the money he handed to her. He wondered what would happen if the illusion would dispel at that moment and reveal his normal appearance. The girl wouldn't probably smile anymore.
"There are many people here who are interested in you," Isaldora said when Jarlaxle sat down in front of her, handing her the glass. "You're gathering some stares from the women," she added, when Jarlaxle gave her a puzzled look. "I should have turned you to look like a gnome."
"Well, if the women stare at me, all the men have their eyes on you," Jarlaxle said. "And I can understand why."
"Spare me from that," Isaldora sighed. "I've never liked flattery very much. It's not real, they're just words used to lure innocent little girls into... Oh, never mind me, I'm just blabbering. You could tell me something about yourself," Isaldora said, and the distant look that had appeared in her eyes went away. "It's not every day I get a chance to talk to a drow," she laughed. Jarlaxle smiled, but wondered whether someone had lured Isaldora into something, or had she witnessed someone close to her being lured. Either way, he would have to be careful and not advance too fast. It was almost impossible, he thought and let his eyes move quickly over her body. She was so beautiful, and he had to fight the urge to lean over and touch her golden hair.
"I don't know what I could tell," Jarlaxle said, concentrating on talking, not dreaming. "I'm a drow, so if you have some kind of an idea how we live, you can guess what my life has been like."
"Dark elves usually have some hair," Isaldora noted. "And they do not spend their time walking around with an assassin, without a bunch of allies and some kind of an evil intent."
"What makes you think there isn't an army of dark elves waiting for my signal so that they could attack and kill everyone in this city?" Jarlaxle asked, smiling. Isaldora laughed and Jarlaxle enjoyed her sparkling blue eyes. "I don't think that an evil drow would buy me juice and make fun of purple fruits. But then again, it seems that everything I've heard about your people is..."
"Everything is true," Jarlaxle said, stressing the words. "Never forget that. I may be different, but if you meet any other dark elves, you should remember what you've been told before. Never trust a drow."
"Drizzt Do'Urden," Isaldora said suddenly. "Do you know him?"
"I've met him," Jarlaxle responded. "He is a good person, although he strives for justice all the time."
"You don't appreciate that he strives for justice? What do you strive for then? Isaldora asked. Jarlaxle looked at her and decided to be honest. "I strive for myself," he said. "To get what I want. But if I can help other people at the same time, I don't mind stepping into Drizzt's line of work."
"Are you going to be 'stepping' a lot?" Isaldora asked. "It won't be easy if you're working for the guild. Although we have a bad habit of saving too many orphans and prostitutes from the streets. We're a strange group, and our actions range from cruel to merciful. I'm more experienced in the merciful and in the area between, but there are also experts on the cruel among us. Did that make any sense?" she asked when she noticed Jarlaxle's amused expression.
"Not really," he responded. "Why do you help the poor? In Calimport the guilds couldn't care less about those who aren't any use to them."
"So you've seen Calimport," Isaldora noted. "To answer you question, I think that Aran has seen so much suffering in his years as the guildmaster that he wants to make some things better. And everyone is useful in their own way. Children can help in cooking and cleaning, and for the prostitutes... We offer them better surroundings for their work, and more safety that they would have if they worked alone. We benefit, they benefit, and although life could be better for many, at least they are alive."
"And what about you?" Jarlaxle asked softly. "How did you end up in here?"
"That story is best saved later," Isaldora said smiling. "I hope there will be time for it some day. But now I should go. And you too, I'm not sure how long the illusion will hold. This isn't the best place for it to break."
"You're right. Can I accompany you back to the guild?" Jarlaxle asked politely, bowing his head a bit. He had left his hat in the guild, and the illusionary hair kept falling to his face, but he realized he would have to get used to it, if he was going to walk around the city in daylight. Maybe he could take the hat along at some point, although he was worried about all the waste people threw out of their windows. Not something he wanted on his hat. Then again, nothing had hit is head when he didn't have a hat, so why would it happen after he started wearing it.
"What were you thinking?" Isaldora asked him. "I said that you can escort me if you want, but only if you stop daydreaming."
"Sorry, won't do it again," Jarlaxle said. "Shall we go, my lady?" he asked, getting up and holding out his hand. Isaldora took hold of his hand and got up, smiling. "I actually like it. Although you look strange with white skin. And brown eyes," she added. The silver eyes of the drow always made his knees go weak. For some reason the illusionary eyes didn't do the same, and although some part, possibly the smart one, of Isaldora though that this was good, her heart longed to see the silver look again. She realized that she was almost daydreaming, and forced herself to concentrate on listening Jarlaxle, who had again started to wonder about the mystery of the purple fruit. She chuckled and started to argue whether the fruit might have some occult aspects. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day, and Isaldora was enjoying the company of a dark elf.
Mitsu watched Jarlaxle and Isaldora with great interest, and when they disappeared from her view, she headed back to the guildhouse through routes known only by the halflings in the city. She didn't have anything better to do than follow the love life of her friend, which was a depressing thought. But it was a hobby, the halfling thought, sliding down a pipe, and not all hobbies had to make any sense. Playing the matchmaker with Shandara had ended in interesting results before, and Mitsu really wanted to find out how things would work out between Isaldora and Jarlaxle. Those two made an interesting couple, and although Shandara had predicted that their affair, if there would be one, wouldn't last forever, Mitsu was sure that Isaldora would learn something from it. At least tolerance towards all kinds of people.
