Chapter 3:

Jalaqier trudged through the dark corridors of the kabal's spire. His mind lost in a fugue, thoughts consumed with the hungering of Slaanesh. Though Yr'lendriel's domination of him wounded his pride and stung his heart like a cold arrow, the sheer carnal ecstasy of her clutches almost made him miss her touch. Even in his hate he longed for her.

It was a painfully, quite literally, regular occurrence for her to demand him following a raid. The difference was that he typically had some slaves of his own. It the quite of his mind, She Who Thirsts would beg, plead, and moan for the enthralling torment Yr'lendriel would inflict upon him. How dare she treat me like a dog! With her leashes, collars, cages, and the whip…

"Yes! The whip!" Slaanesh screeched, "Scratch at her door on your knees beg that you'll be a good boy. Then she'll punish you-,"

Stop it!

"-but if you behave…she'll put you on your back, rub your belly, and ride you raw. Fuck you like you don't deserve you filthy monke-,"

"Shut your mouth whore!" Jalaqier roared, punching his fist through the wall. Trueborns of the court and their attending halfborn slaves turned their eyes on him. After a moment, they all daintily chuckled at his dismay. One of the kabal's lords approached with his consort in tow.

"Her whisperings getting to you, my boy?" he asked Jalaqier.
"We could help with that," the consort said as she traced her fingers across his chest.
"Fuck off, Camarae," Jalaqier snarled.

He wasn't that starved yet. He knew their game. They would bring in another man to fuck the consort in front of Camarae, only to have the poor bastard's throat just before he could achieve fruition. Then they would have their way with the corpse. The galaxy knew the first rule about the Drukhari, but the Drukhari lived by the second rule: never trust a Drukhari.

"Watch your mouth, mutt," Camarae snipped before he and his paramour walked away.

A part of Jalaqier wanted to take them up on the offer. As an incubus, he was more than capable of taking a piteous feeb like Camarae, thus leaving his exquisite play thing to Jalaqier's desires. Yet what held his nerve was the same as Yr'lendriel: his status. Nobody would bat an eye if another trueborn beat one at their own sick game…but a half breed doing it was a whole other story.

"Barge in there, impale them with your huge sword, then you take their eye socket.."

Jalaqier clasped at his head, digging his nails into his skull till he drew blood. The twinging pain made the Prince of Pleasure coo and fall silent. It wouldn't last long, it never did, but that bit of pain silenced her…for now. His thoughts turned to his empty chambers and his blood ran hot as he clenched his fist.

If I had been given my rightful share of the "treasure", I'd fuck that rat girl mercilessly. She'd cry for grace till she begged for more. Then I'd imagine her as Yr'lendriel and I'd choke the life out of her…

"Don't stop!" Slaanesh cried out breathily in his thoughts.
"Yeeeees!" a high pitched man's ethereal voice chimed with accompanied by the sound of jingling bells. Like those found on the tips of a jesters cap, "Keep going…"

and then I'd beg her to love me and she'd say "yes", because she couldn't not, and I'd stop and hold her. Then maybe I'd be happy for a single moment in my miserable life!

Jalaqier fell to his knees, on the verge of sobbing. Yet he fought back those feelings. Such a display of vulnerability in the Dark City was akin to a prey animal in the wild with an open wound. It wouldn't be long before a predator seized upon their weakness and consumed them.

"Ain't that funny," he heard a man speak.

Jalaqier looked up and was astonished by what he saw. There before him, perched on the window pane sat a figure dressed head to toe in a black body suit, with a long white jacket, a red & orange mohawk, wearing a mask of Cegorach: the Laughing God. Flabbergasted by the sight, Jalaqier rubbed his eyes but when he opened them again the man was gone. All there was in his place was a whiff of blue smoke.

Jalaqier ran to the window…but there was no trace of him. Was that a Harlequin? The young incubus had heard many great tales of the Harlequins, the legendary demon slaying jesters of Cegorach. Aeldari, Asuryani and Drukhari alike, held them in an esteem akin to what humans called "angels". Jalaqier could scarcely believe it. Then he noticed something.

Slaanesh is gone!

Where mere moments before she had relentlessly tormenting his spirit, the Great Enemy had fallen silent. He could still feel the drain on his spirit, so she wasn't gone, but the mere presence of a clown had spooked her silent. Inside his chest, Jalaqier felt this flicker of warmth ignite. It was a most peculiar feeling that made him optimistic and resolved. Something he couldn't find the right word for.

"Jal!" the arbiter Máuo-Feìmí shouted, snapping the incubus out his trance, "what are you doing?"
"I-I just," Jalaqier stammered, "thought I saw something."
"You're looking out over a city engulfs three separate suns across twelve dimensions. There's a lot of 'something' going on out there."

Jalaqier shirked his head as he anxiously sneered.

"Of course there is! I just thought I saw…a-never mind."
"Good. I will because I don't care," Máuo-Feìmí shot back, "Come with me."
"Don't presume to command me, arbiter," Jalaqier scoffed.
"Oh for the love of-," Máuo-Feìmí sighed as he covered his face with an open hand, "the archon commands your audience. Do you defy him?"

Jalqier's eyes grew wide and he swallowed hard.

"No."
"Good to know you're not a total idiot. Now follow me," Máuo-Feìmí instructed.

They ventured to the highest peak of the spire. Along the way they stopped outside Máuo-Feìmí's chamber door. He knocked on it and a set of leery red eyes stared back at him.

"Master!" Raelphina the rat girl cried as she flung the door open and threw herself into Máuo-Feìmí's arms.

The arbiter warmly smiled as he soothed the abhuman girl with a tender pat on the head that made her blush and her bushy tail wag.

"What's the matter my sweet child?" Máuo-Feìmí asked.
"You left me alone and I was scared I'd never see you again!"
"Aww! You sweet creature. You're too good for this world."

Jalaqier's brows raised and eye bulged at that statement. No…you're to good for this world, arbiter. There was something so fundamentally non-Drukhari about how this man carried himself. It made Jalaqier's skin crawl. If he didn't know better he'd have thought this eldar was an Asuryani. Arrogant hippy prudes! They think they're so much better than us they still have their psychic gifts.

Yet here he was, with his kindness and level-headedness that had earned him the unwavering affection of a woman who had every right to hate him. It both did and didn't make sense why the archon trusted him so dearly. As revolting as his weaker emotions were, Jalaqier couldn't deny how effectively he used wielded them.

"Come on Raelphina. I just wanted to stop by a check in on you. There's places I have to be and I know there's something on your mind. Out with it, little lady."
"Master Máuo-Feìmí," the rat girl squeaked as she cast her gaze down at the floor as she fiddled with her fingers, "when you said I could sleep in your chambers…I-uh…didn't know you'd have a separate bed for me."
"Would you prefer to return to the stables?"

"What? No master! Anything but that!" Raelphina cried as she began to quiver.
"Hush now. It's alright. You're safe with me," Máuo-Feìmí tendely whispered in her dog ears as he held her close.
"I heard all the terrible noises of the city, and they're all so scary," she trembled as she spoke. Then she rubbed her head against Máuo-Feìmí's chest and fell at ease, "but it's so nice and quiet in your room. With you near I know nothing bad will happen to me."
"I will never let anything or anyone hurt you."

Raelphina's smile curled up high into her rosy red cheeks as her ears twitched and tail wagging intensified.

"So…uh…Master Máuo-Feìmí, because the closer I am to you the safer I feel, can I share the bed with you?"

What the fuck has this pervert been doing? Jalaqier was utterly baffled by the display before him. He couldn't fathom how revoltingly innocent and sweet this exchange was. If it continued much lunger he'd have to vomit. Such gentleness and hesitation was a criminal waste of such a fine feminine creature. You're wasted on him.

Almost as if in reply to his thoughts. Máuo-Feìmí turned his head towards Jalaqier and gave him a wink and silently mouthed the words, "watch and learn."

Máuo-Feìmí rotated Raelphina around and rested his hand on her hips, then he pulled her into him and she yipped excitedly as his hand navigated its way to her inner thigh. Raelphina trembled as she pursed her lips and fluttered her eyes.

"You want to share my bed?" he asked in a husky low tone.
"Oh yes, master. So very much," she panted in reply.
"I only let you in my room because you promised to be a good girl. It sounds you're planning on being naughty."

Raelphina giggled.

"Oh no," she said coyly, "are you going to punish me Master Máuo-Feìmí?"
"Hmm? How about I spank you to teach you a lesson on how to behave?"
"Will you kiss it better?"

Máuo-Feìmí smiled. He withdrew his hand from her thigh as he placed his other hand on the back of her neck. With the one he bent her forward and the other swiftly and solidly slapped her ass. Raelphina yipped, trembled, and giggled. Máuo-Feìmí leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

"You ready to be a good girl?" he whispered.
"Yes Master, I'll be a good girl. Call me a good girl," she pleaded.
Máuo-Feìmí rubbed behind her ears which made her moan, "Raelphina, you're the best girl."

Raelphina's leg started shaking wildly as her tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted.

"Now go inside and wait for me," he instructed as he abruptly pulled away. Raelphina repeatedly blinked, perplexed by his sudden change. However, she reluctantly obeyed. Once she reached the door, she lingered. Raelphina tapped her finger on the frame before spinning around.

"Come inside…," she halted herself as her eye darted to Jalaqier then back at Máuo-Feìmí, "…my-the chamber, master."

Máuo-Feìmí reached up, took her hand and kissed it. Then he stared longingly into her eyes.

"Later."
"Nyaaah!" she whined as her ears went back.
"Patience my sweet child," he told her, "Remember why we're taking it slow; there's no finer sauté than anticipation."
"Will you groom me when you get back?"
"Of course I will. Lock the door."

At that, Raelphina complied. Máuo-Feìmí did not take his eyes off the door till they heard the locking mechanism slide into place. He turned around to find an annoyed Jalaqier.

"Yes?" Máuo-Feìmí initiated the conversation.
"That's the most revoltingly wholesome thing I've ever seen in my life," Jalaqier said as they resumed walking, "you're wasting time and a pleasure vessel."

The arbiter grit his teeth, closed his eyes, and breathed in heavily before painting a pleasant smile over his face.

"You really are half human aren't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jalaqier snapped.
"The fact you don't understand just proves it correct," Máuo-Feìmí shot back.

He's calling me stupid. Jalaqier turned his head away. Is he wrong?

"Listen you dumb brute," Máuo-Feìmí started, "there's better ways of managing the hunger."
"What in the void are you talking about?"
"Just shut up and try to follow along, okay? There's got to be an ebb and flow as well as variety. If you take everything to the extreme, nothing remains extreme; thus everything becomes mundane. It may make you feel like you're satiating the hunger faster, but all you're really doing is making your hunger that much more resilient to appeasement. That's how you go the way of the haemonculi: only staving off She Who Thirsts by drinking the blood of virgins and tears of orphans."
"Yes old seer," Jalaqier replied derisively, "if that's what you want to call being a little craftworld bitch."

Máuo-Feìmí abruptly stopped, barring any progress forward. He glared daggers at Jalaqier with his cold black eyes.

"Talk again and I'll rip your fucking tongue out."

He's serious! Jalaqier stepped back. There was something so potent about the threat. He had never heard the arbiter angry. Now that he had, it greatly unnerved him. Perhaps there was some wisdom in what he was saying. But just as quickly as Máuo-Feìmí had snapped a scowl across his face, it just as swiftly faded away to a gentle smile.

"Listen to me, mutt. Pleasure of all sorts feeds Slaanesh. That includes food, drink, wealth, sensation, and even love."
"Pwuh!" Jalaqier scoffed.
"Laugh all you wish; but be it fluff or smut, She thirsts for it all the same. Nothing fills the gaping void like the enthusiastic reciprocation of affection. Give your heart to another and your soul will sing for it. It truly is intoxicating."

Jalaqier snickered at the thought of it.

"No no, dear arbiter. Their lamentation is nectar of immortality. Other feeble creatures only exist to service the whims of our glorious race."
"Don't you mean, 'your race'?" Máuo-Feìmí shot back.

Jalaqier grit his teeth and swallowed hard. Máuo-Feìmí leered at the incubus, as he circled him like a shark.

"So then she has every right to every bit of your flesh. You don't lament your rightful place beneath her spiked heel? You don't long for Yrie to hold you in the quiet of your mind?"

Jalaqier gazed forward aghast, but before he could even ask-

"I don't need to be a psychic to read your mind, boy," Máuo-Feìmí said, "you think you're something, special…unique…but you're not. You're just like so many other Drukhari: a frightened child playing at be a demon. That's why the real demon terrifies you to your core."

A cold sweat rolled down Jalaqier's neck that felt like the gentle touch of a pair of finger gliding down the length of his spine as She Who Thirsts whispered to him.

"You should be. The things you've done but are a pittance to what I'll do to you for all eternity…,"

As she spoke, Jalaqier could feel his cock swell beneath his codpiece.

"Oooooh! You dirty tease. All you do, your entire filthy race of fucking teases, is for more me. You can be as tsun-tsun as you want about it, but I am the one true love of all Drukhari," she wailed in a fit of orgasmic pleasure, "Yes baby! Kill the fucking clown. Do it for me."

"How dare you call me coward?" Jalaqier roared. His mind raced to justify his actions as "rage", but in his bones he knew better. Bloodlust was still lust, and the hunger called to him. He had to obey it. This travesty of a dark eldar had to die. Not for any genuine reason of his own doing; but for the spurious impulse that had provoked Jalaqier's insecurity and arousal. For Slaanesh!

He roared furiously as leapt at his prey, armored hands curled like the claws of a mighty raptor. Máuo-Feìmí however, did not flinch. As the incubus lunged, he held calmly one of his arms covered in a silver gauntlet with a swirling green jewel at its center. The arbiter tapped the gemstone and a whirring, green energy shield shot forth out of it. It smashed into the incubus with such force as to send him careening into the stone wall of the corridor. He smashed against it with such force as to chip away flakes of stone.

"Guaaghh!" Jalaqier howled as searing hot pain shot through his back.
"Yes!" Slaanesh howled in the throes of passion, "It hurts so good!"

The incubus fell forward, face first into the floor with a fell "krek". The jagged steps cracked his eye socket and split his lip. Jalaqier spit blood in his own face as he gasped for breath. The sticky metallic sanguine was thick with the tart taste of despondency.

Again, the inferiority oh his blood had been proven to him. This frail, prudish, pathetic excuse of a true Drukhari had casually cast him aside. Tears welled in his eyes as he cursed his human weakness. His own merit by virtue of his strength had no purchase. I'm a disgrace.

As his eyes began to close and hearing fade, Jalaqier caught one last glance as Máuo-Feìmí shook his head as he stood over him.

"Should have known that talking to a Drukhari about 'enthusiastic consent' would've been a joke," he muttered.

Then there was the sound of foot steps and a whiff of blue haze as a person in black leggings with a long white coat stepped over Jalaqier's limp body.

"For what it's worth, it's a good one but you could have gotten through the setup faster," said a strange man's voice.
"Now what?" Máuo-Feìmí asked.
"Nothing's changed," the stranger replied, "just give him a nudge and the bit will write itself."

Máuo-Feìmí waved his right hand and a sharp emerald illuminated his irises.

Jalaqier felt a presence in his mind, filing through his memories till it settled on an image of a sad human woman.

"Mother!" Jalaqier spat. Then darkness fell upon him.
"All he'll remember is hitting the wall and blacking out," Máuo-Feìmí said.
"Good. Whatever you do don't get caught Mau. The Drukhari have a special torment reserved for active psykers," the stranger said.

Then it was all quiet in the dark of Jalaqier's mind.