Disclaimer: as usual

Alhana: Changed the options, everything should go through now. Thanks for telling me!

A/N: Finally found someone to look through all my stuff before I post it. Great hu? All thanks goes to haiiro hitosu.

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Blackmail

C

Giciel is not impressed by this suggestion, but since Andy and I both have blood all over us there is not much room for arguments and because he is not quite as arrogant as his Lord he eventually nods and gives orders to prepare a bath for us. The glance he throws me though is open to interpretation. For once I have no idea how he really feels about this ridiculous situation. I try valiantly to see the amusing side of all this and fail miserably, because once we have reached the bathing chamber I am once again caught between two jealously glaring Elves. Gods why does life have to be so complicated?

The way here was bad enough already, but now that the time has come where I have to undress in order to actually take my bath I suddenly feel a great need for privacy. Andy doesn't judging by the way he just nonchalantly shrugs out of all his clothing, turning back with a slightly raised brow and a slight smirk when I hesitate. With an inward sigh I decide to ignore both Giciel and the five new guards who have come with us to ensure our continued "wellbeing" and do the same. In an awe inspiring show of self control I even manage to ignore the blatant staring of the guards when they realize that we obviously intend to share the single bath tub and step in shortly behind Andy.

"You first." I decide and start washing his hair in an extra careful manner to show how much I appreciated his support back in the blood soaked room. I can practically feel him relax under my carefully massaging fingers and it reminds me a bit of the occasions when we were back with our Master, putting on a show for his chosen guests. Only this time the atmosphere is far tenser. I can sense the half hidden need which emanates from the mage upon seeing me on display like this and the sensation makes me feel slightly nervous, but somehow pleased at the same time. To see how much he is still affected by me is darkly satisfying for my damaged ego, no matter how much Liral might despise me for it.

The strained silence, which has settled over the room, is slowly but surely becoming oppressive, but I'm resolved to ignore that. If they feel the need to detain us like dangerous criminals they can just as well pay for it in any petty little way I can possibly conceive! I bet more than one of those soldiers would choose to let us go if they had the choice now.

When it's my turn to get my hair washed I see the short narrow eyed glance Andy throws Giciel as we change positions and for a second I wonder if this is such a good idea. The thought is soon drowned out though by the soothing touch of nimble black hands. Let them bicker I decide and simply lean back to enjoy the short moment of relaxation. It might well be the last I will get some time to come and I'll be damned if I don't make the most of it as long as I still can.

The moment is even shorter than I had anticipated, because right after Andy is finished rinsing the last remnants of soap from my hair Liral once again deigns to grace us with his shining presence.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He wants to know with an appalled grimace, turning to Giciel who is looking slightly guilty for a moment, but recovers fast and answers with a perfectly straight face: "You said to treat them well my Lord. I assumed this order included a minimum of hygiene."

The slight hint of petulance in his words once again kindles the hope in me that there could be a chance of him supporting us in our quest for freedom. Liral mutters something unintelligible. Presumably his opinion about how far said minimum of hygiene should extend. As usual he doesn't spare us a second glance and departs with a short: "Fine then. Since your uncle seems to have matters well in hand with the Drow I will leave you to your task." With a nasty smile he adds: "Maybe a minimum of nourishment would do them good as well. I'm sure you'll find something in my kitchen. Regretfully the cook has been killed by the fleeing Drow though, but I trust you'll manage quite well on your own."

And then he's gone, leaving a scowling Giciel behind. Their acquaintance must go back a long way. How else would Liral know about his mage's sadly lacking cooking skills? I wonder what kind of relationship they have. To leave the capable and powerful wizard here, burdened with a task which can practically be described as the babysitting of two harmless prisoners is quite a slap in the face in my opinion. Maybe there is something more going on, some festering conflict which has its origins somewhere far back in the distant past. The thought of getting caught up in their personal power play is not a comfortable one.

"Go and get a light meal from the kitchen. We'll be in the blue guestroom." Giciel crisply orders one of the soldiers, who looks slightly offended at being given such a demeaning task as serving food, but obeys nonetheless. I take this as sign that our bath has come to an end. What a pity. The water isn't even cold yet. Oh well, at least we got rid of all that sticky blood and the last traces of our short trip into the prison. Still wrapped in one of the white towels we were so graciously provided with I move to grab my dirty clothes, but I'm stopped in mid motion by a firm, gold skinned hand on my wrist.

"Leave these. Lord Liral will be happy to provide you with something to wear while your own garments are cleaned." The mage tells me with grim satisfaction, keeping hold of me only slightly longer than necessary before he turns to a beautiful little cherry wood closet and takes out two simple, white linen robes. He hands me both of them without acknowledging Andy's presence, at which I inwardly roll my eyes. Such a childish behaviour is not what I would normally expect from a grown up person like him.

I think back on the last breakfast I spent together with Andy and the mage. I hope the atmosphere won't as tense today, but I'm not overly optimistic in that respect. I guess they'll just continue with their silent bickering and proceed to slowly drive me out of my mind with it. After another ridiculous trek through the eerie building we arrive at the guest room with our whole entourage of all four remaining soldiers. Its furnishing is slightly more elaborate than that of the other one, but not by much and somehow I get the impression that it isn't used very often. The air itself is slightly stale and the whole room doesn't look very lived in at all, more like something out of a museum. At least this time we can all sit around a small table instead of having to camp on the hard floor. The table has already been set and at the sight of all these delicious fruits, the yellow cheese and fresh bread I can feel my mouth start to water.

"You can go and wait outside." Giciel is telling our guards now, which raises more than a few eyebrows.

"But milord said we..."

"I know very well what he said." Giciel harshly interrupts the poor guy. "Do you really think me incapable of watching two whores?" He wants to know waspishly, revealing the true measure of his anger at the orders he has been given by Lord Liral.

"No, of course not Master Daleyn. Please forgive me." The soldier mutters cowed and promptly leaves the room, taking his comrades with him. As much as I resent his use of the term whore I am still thankful to finally be free of the constant stares from our overeager guards, so I keep my mouth shut. I'm reluctant to return the intent and watchful look Giciel is giving me since the second the door closed behind the last soldier, so I turn towards the food with barely contained enthusiasm and try to ignore him as best as I can. Sadly this tactic is lacking efficiency in the long term and soon I'm forced out of my pretended preoccupation by his sharp, impatient: "So Toren, will you please tell me now how you really got here or shall I have to resort to other means gain information?"

"No." I murmur unwillingly, finally wrenching myself away from the fruit basket. "It was really just by chance. You see we happened to get into a tavern brawl and Andy got locked up. When I tried to get him out I accidentally came across the two thieves Liral is chasing so determinedly and they uh... kind of came along when we left the prison and refused to go away."

He looks doubtful.

"Really," I plead, thinking that maybe a bit of humbleness might not be so out of place right now. "We didn't do anything wrong."

The doubt has not left his face and slowly I'm getting angry. Why does everybody have to doubt my motives all the time?

"It's not my fucking fault when your demented Lord hates me on sight!" I erupt eventually and surprisingly that causes a small smile to form on his handsome face. I do not like this. That smile has a dark background I know too well to miss.

"He won't let you go you know." Giciel says conversationally, slowly confirming my fears. "His hatred of the Drow is widely known, for some time he was even rumoured to be a secret worshiper of Shevarash."

I bite my lip. The followers of that God are mostly fanatical in their loathing of our dark cousins and while their beliefs are not exactly tolerated they're not actually outlawed either.

"If he thinks you're in league with any of them he'll hardly be persuaded to release you."

I stare at him knowing what will come next and dreading it.

"If you were to turn away from such company... well there might be a remote possibility that I could get him to change his opinion."

"You're not serious." I whisper turning pale. The courage to turn around and look at Andy now eludes me and all I can do is to continue staring at the mage in front of me.

"He's not good for you. Don't you see that?" He says imploringly. I want to scream with fury at his words, but all I manage to choke out is: "And practically forcing me into becoming your whore is better for me?"

"I know you have been wounded." He says, while actually managing to sound compassionate. "You need to heal."

"I don't see you helping me!" I hiss venomously, wanting to shake him. How can he get this so wrong? I feel trapped. A short flicker of hurt mixed with helpless longing flits over his features and he looks away.

"No." He sighs, suddenly and surprisingly defeated and sinks down on a chair. "I guess not."

Only now I feel Andy's hand, his fingers clutching the back of my robe in silent fear.

"What have you done to me?" Giciel asks with the first signs of desperation clear in his voice, hands clamped around the edge of the table. "Do you even know how I feel? The terrible need you have woken in me? I cannot forget you. The Gods know I've tried." He laughs bitterly. "Funny isn't it? Here I am: a talented mage in full control of my possibilities and then you come along without any real power of your own. Nothing but a tempting body and soft words at your disposal and yet you can reduce me to begging."

I don't see anything remotely funny in this and I wish he would just shut up! What I intended to be an act of compassion or at least gratitude has now been turned against me. The decision to seduce him was forced on me by my Master and when I went with him for the second time it was just to show my thankfulness for his help.

"I'm sorry." I say softly. "But I did tell you that all you would get from me is..."

"Is sex. Yes I remember." He cuts in sharply obviously unwilling to hear me say it. "And even that I would take if you were willing."

He looks up revealing self loathing, but also a desperate hope which shine in his eyes and make him vulnerable.