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 and a few other originals however are my creation.

Entreri stared at Jarian's door and muttered, "emotionally." He shook his head and paced, his eyes drifting back to the mahogany door that led into a room the assassin did not wish to enter. He had heard the strangest noises behind the seemingly innocent door, but for nearly an hour there had been nothing but quiet save for the steady sounds of breathing.

In Entreri's mind, in an effort to preserve his sanity, he justified that the drow were just practicing their physical prowess in terms of weaponry. After all, there was more to Jarian's servant than just their status as models and servants. However, when he faced the more sordid possibilities, the kind that Jarlaxle insinuated to him…he could not deny a shudder of revulsion of what they were truly doing. And now he had to enter Jarian's doorway of desire to awaken him for the Fashion Display. The mere prospect was twitchable.

He approached the door. "Jarian, it's time to awaken. We need to be at Costumer's Hall in less than an hour." Hearing no answer he knocked. "Jarian. You need to get up now."

There was still no answer. Entreri banged harder on the door, but received no reply. The drow must have exhausted themselves and were deep in reverie…just his luck.

Entreri took a steadying breath and entered the room. The smell of scented oil and sweat overwhelmed his nostrils. He coughed and his eyes watered until he gained control of his gag reflex. Only after seeing the bed did he put a hand to his mouth to prevent the contents of his stomach from being retched onto the floor.

Jarian and his servants were sleeping and very much naked, entwined in each other's arms atop a plush bed. Entreri had quickly averted his eyes to the floor and picked up a blanket with two fingers, deftly tossing it over the sleeping drow. He cleared his throat.

"Oh Artie, Artie, Artie," Jarian murmured in his sleep as he proceeded to grope a pillow. His eyes fluttered open, not from the noise but from the fact that he was getting rather warm. A heat was rising within him and he sat up in attention. "Artemis! Is this a dream? Are you really at my bedside?" He looked to the blanket over him and gasped, "you covered me up! That was such a tender action!"

"Put on some clothes and get ready," Entreri said, having made his way back to the door. Since the drow were now covered he glared toward the bed. "That includes your servants as well."

Kaifas opened his eyes when Entreri left the room. "He actually came inside the room."

"Yes he did," Maskah said as he lifted the blanket. He stretched and looked to his right, "but why didn't you pursue him Master Jarian? We three could have easily overtaken him and given him the reward he deserves for protecting you."

"I want him to come to me," Jarian said deliberately saying each word with care. "I do so enjoy the chase and seduction, but my victory will be all the more satisfying with him willing." He stroked the blanket with a wicked grin.

Shytolin woke up with a start. "Oh!" He blinked sleepily, "what happened?"

Kaifas exchanged a mischievous grin with Maskah. "Artemis was in the room! You should have seen it!"

"Oh yes," Maskah said clutching onto Kaifas suggestively, "and Master Jarian had his way with him."

Shytolin's jaw fell open. "And you didn't wake me! Not even to watch! Oh the horror!"

Jarian fondly caressed Shytolin's cheek. "They're just teasing. I would at least let you watch."

Shytolin leaned into Jarian's hand and sighed contently.

Half an hour later, after more noises came from Jarian's room, Entreri growled and banged on the door causing the noises to subside. "We're going to be late!"

The door swung open and Jarian glided out with the slyest of smiles. "There's no need to be flustered Artemis."

Entreri stared. "You're…just wearing black robes?"

"Well of course," Jarian said, "I can't let the competition see what I'm up to." In a husky whisper, "we're all naked under these robes. Would you like to see?"

"No," Entreri said hurriedly, "I believe you." He noted that one of the servants held the chest that contained Jarian's mobile tailoring room. "Now come quickly."

"Only for you Artemis even though I'd rather we took our time," Jarian said in a far too delighted tone

Minutes later, Entreri realized what he had said that made Jarian so delighted. At the time he was glad that he was in too much of a hurry to notice. Once he did, he promptly twitched and promised himself that he would take a gulp of the flask he had hid within the confines of his tunic.

Via a back entrance they made their way into Costumer's Hall. Unlike other Fashion Display participants they were inconspicuously making their way to their dressing area, preferring not to be mobbed pre-show. There would be time for that later.

Entreri elbowed his way through a cavalcade of fabric-clad models and breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to their designated changing room. "We made it."

Kaifas, Maskah, and Shytolin cheered. Jarian hugged onto Entreri's arm, "oh thank you Artemis! That was such a stunning display of purpose!"

Prying the drow from his arm as nicely as possibly, "if you want to thank me. Get ready on time for the stage."

"Is there anything else I can do to thank you?" Jarian swayed his hips and leaned his back against the doorframe, slowly sliding downward.

"Maybe later," Entreri said absently. His eyes were focused on a suspicious looking moon elf that had been following them since they entered Costumer's Hall.

"Really! Oh sweet ecstasy!" Jarian entered the changing room and clapped his hands together with renewed determination. "Prepare my mobile tailoring room, we have an audience to awe."

Entreri took a long swig of his hidden flask, but nearly choked on its contents when the suspicious moon elf sidled against him.

"Why hello there," the moon elf said seductively, "you seem rather out of place."

Why must I always attract the attention of males? Entreri put a warning hand on his sabre.

"Now now no need to be hasty," the moon elf said eyeing the way Entreri gripped his sabre. "I was just curious about you is all. Rumor has it that you are the handsome guardian of a most extraordinary drow tailor. I only wish to know if it is a tailor I have been closely acquainted with before. Is this the room of Jarian? The drow that Jarlaxle has been raving about?"

"Jarlaxle's ravings tend to have a basis in fact, so yes this is Jarian's room. You can't see him now though, he's rather busy," Entreri said.

"I imagine that he is quite busy." The moon elf's eyes lit up in excitement. "Does he still have those two delectable servants with him?"

Entreri blinked. "He has three servants."

"Three!" The moon elf expelled the word breathlessly. "My, I shall have to have a long talk with Jarian this evening. Do tell him that Raelos sends his warmest regards."

Entreri curtly nodded acquiescence and folded his arms. Raelos the moon elf stared at his sabre the way Jarian did sometimes and it was unsettling.

While action was occurring backstage, the area surrounding the stage was a flurry of activity. Pamphleteers from across the world of Faerûn flocked to Waterdeep to chronicle the latest fashions. They readied their parchment and drawing wands, waiting anxiously to capture the models' images. Others in the magical community prepared memory charms to commit the entirety of the show in their minds so they could artistically scribe it onto paper later.

Jarlaxle watched people being herded like rothé and was growing more amused by the second. Of course this could have been because of the wine he was drinking, but he was in command of all his faculties and enjoying his prime spot near the stage, just the right distance away from the mob. The first day of the Fashion Display wasn't open to the general public. It was for the higher ups in society, fashion patrons, and other exclusive groups of people. Day two would play to the public. They key to getting to the third day was not only to win over three mysterious judges (Jarlaxle would personally find out who they were later this evening), but the audience as well, for their support was what the various tailors required to be successful.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"My dear Alurra," Jarlaxle said with a wide smile. He allowed his eyes to drift over her bejeweled body, enjoying the subtle squirm of her shoulders, "Why yes, I am enjoying myself. Do sit and have a drink."

"I'm trying to coordinate a Fashion Display," she said. Her words were confirmed when she was pulled aside to scribe her name.

"I can see that," Jarlaxle said. Regardless he poured her a drink. "But, I am of the opinion that there is always time for a drink. It will help settle your nerves."

Alurra took hold of the wine glass. She looked back and forth, abandoning her lady-like demeanor to drain the contents of the glass.

"Feeling better?"

Placing the glass down she admitted, "My nerves are settled a bit."

"I'll settle other things later," Jarlaxle said smoothly. Looking past her shoulder, "I do believe you are being summoned to the stage."

Taking a moment to settle herself, she smoothed her hair and headed to work. Jarlaxle poured another glass of wine and savored sweetness as he watched Alurra, until his attention was diverted by a Waterhadvian noble that obstructed his view.

"This is so dreary," the human said in a nasally voice, tossing back his gaudy cloak. "Why do we even need a display? My work is the absolute best."

His servant, a middle-aged man with premature gray hair sought to comfort the whiney Lord. "This is merely the first day Lord Phinagon. The Display is meant to showcase all manners of fashion from across the world. There is nothing wrong with broadening one's horizons in the interest of diversity."

Lord Phinagon huffed. "Diversity. Please, you're such an idealist Brak. The only diversities I'm interested in are the jewels I count every morning."

Jarlaxle swirled his wine and twitched a very Entreri-like twitch. Prissy nobles, I –hate- prissy nobles.

Brak rolled his eyes behind his Lord's back and paled at the sight of Jarlaxle. He had never seen a drow before; he looked to the dark elf in a mixture of curiosity and stark fear. He stared until Jarlaxle gave a friendly wave. Brak smiled and waved back.

"Brak, you fool, who are you-" The Lord's words died in his throat as he saw Jarlaxle. He clutched his chest in shock and yelped, "a drow!" He leapt behind his servant, ready to push him into the drow's path if need be.

The servant composed himself and gently pried himself away from his Lord. "He is here for the festivities Milord. Does not the wide brimmed hat festooned with purple feathers denote his affinity for fashion?" Brak smiled sweetly, resisting the urge to wallop his young Lord over the head. I was not his tutor for ten years only to be sacrificed as a servant to this drow.

"Oh right," Lord Phinagon said giving an exaggerated bow to Jarlaxle, "I knew that." He continued on, ignoring Jarlaxle.

Jarlaxle nodded at Brak's apologetic bow.

"A visible show of restraint," a voice to Jarlaxle's side observed.

Now what? Jarlaxle turned to meet the pleasant smile of a Gold Elf, flocked by his female entourage. "Greetings Narfindal, I am surprised to see you off your island."

"Evermeet did not wish to be left out of this Display," Narfindal said in the most rehearsed of tones. "We of isle were sent here to show the superiority of the true Elven race."

Jarlaxle stared at his Elven entourage, composed of lithe Golden elves whose eyes twinkled as Jarlaxle stood to stretch. Narfindal looked to the elves with a critical eye and they wrinkled their noses in derision at Jarlaxle. "Well, I wish you the best of luck in that endeavor."

"We'll be watching you for tricks," Narfindal said matter-of-factly.

"You do that," Jarlaxle said, "and I guarantee I'll give you a Display unlike that which you have ever glimpsed before."

Narfindal let loose a haughty smirk. "We shall see."

The lights dimmed and everyone's attention turned to the stage.

Author's Note: Yay for winter break! I was determined to get a chapter in after finals and papers were completed (I won't even go into my continuing battle with migraines). In light of the new policy regarding reviewer responses (I'm sooo not happy about that), I may only respond to anonymous reviewers at the end of the chapter being that I cannot respond to their author name (but do feel free to leave an email address). So, if for the previous chapter you get these random emails from me, be not alarmed their my late responses and of course once I hear from you for this chapter I will respond ever so swiftly. I really love hearing from people (the muses do too and believe me, it's interesting when they take over the keyboard).

Also, yay for surpassing the 200th review:hands out holiday cookies:

On a random note in the beginning of the chapter when Jarian murmurs, "oh Artie, Artie, Artie" inspiration was received from the movie Robin Hood Men in Tights when Latrine the witch clutches onto the cardboard cut-out of Lord Rottingham murmuring, "oh Rotty, Rotty, Rotty." I highly recommend the movie for a laugh if you haven't seen it.

For this chapter I was debating including the staging of the first day, but I think I shall dedicate the next chapter for that. This chapter brings in a cast of new characters that shall interact with our mercenaries in due course. So, I've literally set the stage.

For the next chapter, what is Raelos the moon elf's prior relationship with Jarian? Will the prissy noble Lord Phinagon cause another Entreri twitch? Will the appearance of Gold elves fashion cause a damper in the mood? Stay tuned, for next chapter we'll have just a little taste of the fashions across the Realms. And to think folks, Day One is only the beginning…just wait until Days Two and Three…mwhuahahaha!

Entreri: :sighs: Great, she's laughing evilly again.

Jarlaxle: :licking a candy cane: I like her evil laughs, it means she has something up her sleeve.

Jarian: :skips about with some mistletoe, with his servants, getting ready for the holidays:

Authoress: You guys don't know how tempted I am to write a special Christmas Special as a side-ficlet… :looking to readers: Hmm, should I ?

Random: To all my reviewers, anonymous and members…thank you! Your comments and reviews really brighten my day! To 'She-Who-Forgot-Her-Password' I expect you to make yourself known (drop a review/email/PM/etc), lol. After reading that little snippet in your review I was in hysterics laughing…it was like you snuck into my home and watched my Muses. They do so enjoy making an appearance at the end of chapters.