Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.
Ebony hands lifted a crystalline vial, lifting the cap to lightly dab a fragrance on a smooth neck. They carefully added a few careful drops onto the palms, working the liquid to the fingers, and they gently massaged the oil onto a clean-shaven head. Skin became soft yet firm to the touch.
Jarlaxle smiled to the mirror, deeply inhaling the rich scent. The amber drifted into his nostrils, the woodsy scent foreshadowing his immanent Surface travel. The hint of a floral aroma, added from his own carefully maintained gardens in the darkness, created a tremulous balance between his dealings above and below the Surface. Jarlaxle chose his scent like he chose his business ventures, both had pleasing odors and made him look good, or in the case of the scent, smell good.
He smiled to the half-elf from his harem. Desire was emanating from her body, but he lightly kissed her hand. "Later my darling, I have another to attend."
She bowed her head and almost seemed to pout when Jarlaxle waved her away with a dismissive hand.
Jarlaxle rose from his chair and examined his figure in the mirror. Scarlet was the color of the evening as he ran a hand along his tightly clad outfit. Placing a large matching hat on his head, he winked to his image. Picking up a long purple feather, he lightly traced a rune on the mirror's surface. Upon replacing the feather back onto his hat he softly chanted and the mirror rippled in reply. Entering his personal transportation gateway, he set out to Waterdeep.
Alura Tarbrossen, representative of the Order of Master Tailors, Glovers, and Mercers, brushed her long auburn locks with an ivory-toothed comb. She inhaled and a small smile peeked at her lips, upon smelling a familiar scent.
Fingers, the color of the midnight sky, gently pried the comb from her hand and started brushing her hair.
"Greetings Jarlaxle," she said. In an amused tone, "your entrance is as silent and mysterious as ever."
"Anything to maintain my reputation," he said, placing the comb to the side.
"Anything?" She turned to look at him, a 'come hither' look in her eyes.
"Of course," Jarlaxle chuckled, as he tipped his hat to her, running a finger along the feather. "You're alluring as ever my dear, your name suits you well."
"Indeed," she said, absently smoothing her gossamer gown. "However, I know that you must want something regarding the Fashion Display."
"I merely wish to know everything," he said approaching her. He ran his finger along her jaw line, letting his eyes lock into hers, "And I was hoping that you would enlighten me."
"You still need to register in the morning Jarlaxle, but I suppose I can enlighten you. Is there anything else you want?"
Jarlaxle smiled widely, removing his hat to hang it on Alurra's bedpost.
"It seems our desires lie on the same string of thread," she said trailing off, "I will have to push back registration a few hours."
"Make that several hours," Jarlaxle said with a sly grin. He savored the blush that spread over her cheeks, absently wondering if there was anything Jarian could do to make Entreri blush.
Pleasure now, Jarlaxle said to remind himself of the moment, amusement later.
Jarian practically skipped through the streets and his servants followed his example. Their collective excitement and parade-like prances failed however to excite the stoic assassin. The flamboyant tailor had a substantial influence on Jarlaxle's disguise for Entreri. He had provided the outfit, while Jarlaxle provided the other aspects of the disguise. Thinking of Entreri's reaction caused him to break out into a fit of laughter.
"Is something amusing, Jarian?" Entreri was close to convulsing with rage. Of course you couldn't tell this fact unless you were empathic because the assassin's face was still as a statue, save for a small twitch of a nerve by his temple.
"Many a thing Artemis," Jarian said, then as if he realized something funny he whispered to his servants and they burst out laughing.
Entreri caught the word 'Artemesia' and froze.
Oh by the hells no. . .
Reaching out a hand he grabbed a young pickpocket by the scruff of his collar.
"I. . .I'm sorry!" The boy wriggled in Entreri's grasp. "I was made to do it! Please don't tell the Watch!"
"If I catch you again you'll have more to worry about then the Watch," Entreri growled.
"Damn Lady," the boy said, "you sure are menacing."
Entreri dropped the boy out of shock. "What did you call me?"
The boy scrambled away. "Nothing bad ma'am. I don't see many warriors dressed like you."
Lady! Ma'am!
Artemis Entreri was pissed.
Artemis Entreri was beyond mortified.
Artemis Entreri was going to kill someone.
Jarian absently backed into his three servants as the assassin slowly turned to regard them. His heart couldn't help but flutter wildly.
Artemis looks positively livid! I never knew eyes could darken at such a passionate intensity. . .
Kaifas whispered, "Master Jarian, perhaps we should not laugh at the human."
Maskah nodded and whispered, "It seems he is not keen about being a woman."
Shytolin couldn't help but stare and forgetting to whisper, "but he makes such a pretty woman."
Kaifas and Maskah pounced on Shytolin to silence him and Jarian stood before them, smiling to Entreri. "Don't be so angry Artemis, Jarlaxle had to make a convincing disguise."
"I can disguise myself," Entreri said as he went to pull off the ring. Unfortunately the ring would not budge from his finger. He muttered in a feral tone, "Jarlaxle."
Jarian blinked as he walked over to Entreri. "The ring doesn't come off?"
"No, it does not." Entreri glared, for all he knew Jarian was a perpetrator behind the ring's inability to be released from his finger. He had not forgotten when Jarian made clothes that could only be removed by Jarian. "But let me guess, Jarlaxle is the only one who can remove it?"
"More than likely," Jarian said. With a sly smile, "but I can always try."
Entreri stiffened. "No, that's quite all right." He walked to a nearby alley.
"Come now Artemis, you can either let me touch you or you can remain a woman. Personally I like you better as a man, unless you're hiding something," Jarian said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Entreri fought the urge to reach for the sabre at his side, but paused wondering what it looked like in the disguise, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Remove the ring if you can," he said extending his hand. His desire not to be a woman overshadowed his revulsion of being touched by the drow.
Jarian seductively made his way over to Entreri, taking Entreri's hand into his own. He lightly traced his finger down Entreri's wrist to the ring and gave it a light pull. Nothing happened, so he pulled again. He repeated the movements, hoping to loosen the ring, and to prolong the moment between him and Entreri.
Maskah and Kaifas were entwined in each other's arms as they peeked into the alley. Shytolin stared in jaw-slackened fascination at the pair.
Maskah whispered, "oh me oh my, is Jarian finally having is way with the assassin?"
Kaifas absently stroked Maskah's hair, "I think perhaps he portends delights to come."
"I enjoy delights," Shytolin said, a devilish glint in his eyes, "mayhap we will all receive some tonight. The assassin knows not what he misses."
Entreri pulled away from Jarian. "That's enough!"
"You're only making m-. . ., I mean this harder Artemis!" Jarian advanced on him.
Entreri unsheathed his sabre and Jarian burst out into laughter.
"Oh Artemis, if only you could see yourself!" Jarian paused, a thoughtful look on his face. He placed a hand on his hip and raised the other to snap his fingers. "Bring me my mobile tailoring room!"
Shytolin rushed over to Jarian's side, placing the chest on the ground. Jarian stroked his servant's cheek fondly before walking over to the chest. He knelt before it and softly chanted. He opened the chest and the inside appeared to be a black void. Reaching his hand inside he proceeded to pull out an entire full-length mirror.
Entreri stared at the display, not quite knowing what to say.
"Come here Artemis and view feminine beauty that only you can display," Jarian said, presenting the mirror with outstretched hands.
Entreri stood still for several moments, not quite sure if he really wanted to see what Jarlaxle had done to him. Curiosity, and the fact that he wanted motivation to kill Jarlaxle, prompted him to view his image in the mirror.
The image that awaited him made him sick to his stomach.
A longhaired, full breasted, female beauty stared back at Entreri. And to make matters worse, this beauty was wearing a scantily clad outfit that matched Jarian and his entourage. Entreri looked to his feet where glittering golden sandals adorned his feet, their strings secure about his calves. As his eyes roamed up, the outfit did not bode well. A very high cyan-colored skirt met his eyes, a filmy veil extending from his waist to his knees.
The outfit grew even worse as it went upward. A fish net half-shirt met his eyes next and he saw far too much skin for his own liking, again, filmy veil did not leave much to the imagination. He stared at the magenta feathered hairpiece atop his head in abject horror.
"I prefer you better as a man," Jarian said, pouting slightly. "However, if it is any consolation, you do make a rather fetching female."
"I prefer to be a man too," Entreri said, barely getting out the words. He felt slightly faint when he stared at the makeup on his face. His hand tightened on his sabre and he paled as he saw his sabre. . .it had been affected as well.
His sabre's blade matched his magenta hairpiece and the hilt was adorned with . . .cyan ribbons. He held the sword out before him, looking from it and back to the mirror.
My sword has ribbons. . .Jarlaxle must die.
Jarian recognized the murderous glint in Entreri's eyes and to preserve his leader's well being he said, "Well, Jarlaxle did say you may not be accustomed to such an elaborate disguise, so I have a backup outfit piece."
Entreri didn't know how much he could take, but he was slightly relieved when he saw Jarian pull out a black cloak.
However, his relief was dashed to pieces when he saw the back adorned with a spiral colored array of cyan and magenta.
Jarian presented it to him with his overly naïve smile. Entreri reluctantly sheathed his sword and shakily accepted it. He put the cloak on and pulled it about his form, folding his arms so his scantily clad outfit was relatively hidden.
"Jarlaxle and I need to have a talk," Entreri said darkly, "so put away the mirror and let us proceed to the Inn."
Maskah and Kaifas lifted the mirror back into the chest and Shytolin proudly carried it in his arms.
"Can I be your escort?" Jarian walked beside Entreri. "Ladies need escorts."
"No," Entreri said, "and because of that question we will now walk in silence to the Inn." His tone was dangerous, bristling with the intensity of a panther ready to pounce.
Jarian blinked, taken aback for a moment, but he grinned and saluted. Motioning for the three servants to follow, they saluted in turn and scurried after the pair.
Author's Note: I was up until 1:16am to meet my own deadline and yay I did it! Next update will probably take a little more than a week, all depending on Independence Day activities, work schedule, and such. I made this chapter a little longer to make up for the previous chapter. :wink:
Next chapter, Entreri will have a little talk with Jarlaxle. Will Jarlaxle survive? Will Entreri ever look like a man again:shakes magic 8 ball 'Ask Again Later':
Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter. If you drop a review, I'll be sure to have some fireworks lit in your honor!
Authoress, Jarlaxle, Jarian, Maskah, Kaifas, and Shytolin: :sing chorus of a song by Tom Jones: "She's a Lady, whoa whoa whoa she's a Lady…"
Entreri: :lunges at them all to make a kill:
Authoress: :screams and ducks: I was nice to you in the last chapter!
Jarlaxle: :points out that Entreri needs him alive to take off the ring:
Jarian: :holds open his arms: "…and the Lady is mine!"
Entreri: :composes himself and looks to the review button for consolation:
Reviewer Mailbag (you all are awesome!)Tiggermyk: So, I'm rubbing off on you eh:can't help but chuckle:
Dark Epiphany: Like Entreri you probably wanted to feign ignorance about the disguise. . .but curiosity eventually gets the better of you. And, oh yeah, Jarlaxle is gonna get it once Entreri has a little 'talk' with him.
Kurai Cat: Glad you like the interaction between the characters, they like it too! Well, with the exception of poor Entreri.
Psycho101: I'm more than happy to brighten your day and yes, watching Entreri's sanity right itself with each update is such fun! (Don't tell Entreri I said that) And be careful what you wish for, Entreri just might want to get stolen in order to get away from Jarian. (Though, I'm sure he wouldn't be able to escape that easily)
Arsinoe Selene: :Jarlaxle blinks and looks to the reviewer, then with a wicked grin brings her to his lap, allowing her to snuggle:he smiles widely and tickles her cheek with a feather:
Abbil: Reminds you of your little sister eh:bursts out laughing: Though even I must admit I had a Jarian-like fashion sense in my younger years. Ex: When I was 5 years oldI wore hot pink shorts, neon orange socks pulled up almost to my knees, and a bright green shirt. . .what can I say? I was a child of the late 80s/early 90s.
Ariel D: :helps reviewer up after falling in previous review:
:breaks out into dancing herself:
Lessiehanamoray: You're welcome. And whew! Glad my description of Waterdeep wasn't completely off and it's always nice to meet another realms addict, lol.
Katherine: Fixed that spelling mistake. It was fine on Word, but apparently the uploading on decided to be finicky. Thanks!
I agree the previous chapter was a bit boring, but there was this part of me that wanted to give Entreri some semblance of a break. Well, before he decided to go on a murderous rampage after surviving this chapter. (Shhh! Don't tell him where I am!) Fortunately he's more concerned with Jarlaxle at the moment than little old me.