Volume 2, Part XXIII: Nothing Ever Uncomplicated
Sand watched the flurry of activity on the deck. Cries were going up from all direction and all the men, as they tugged on different sets of ropes, unfurling some sails, adjusting others.
Abelor put out his pipe and hooked his thumbs into his belt. "Aye, the Lusty Luskan is quicker than a two-copper whore. We'll outsail 'em. Best be getting below deck, you two. Real sailing work happens now. Master wizard, ready your spells."
This is not exactly how you imagined your life when you first agreed to spy for Nevewinter, Ambassador. Dressed as a common boy, tired, dirty, and running for your life. What I wouldn't give for a bath, she thought towards Sand. If we're all going to die, I wish I could do so clean. Her mouth twisted wryly as she looked over at Abelor. "Time to put your sails to the test I suppose, Captain."
Sand nodded his thanks to Abelor and glanced at Torio. Not a fan of the unkempt look, dear girl? You're not going to die so you'll just have to stay unwashed a little while longer.
He ducked below deck and slowly made his way to the Captain's room, holding the door open for Torio.
Torio followed Sand with a mounting trepidation; she slipped into the cabin, her heart fluttering nervously. She felt...
Like she had when they had first approached Luskan's gates. Only a few days ago, and yet it felt like an entire lifetime has spanned between then and now.
She moved to the bed and flopped onto it, her eyes glittering as she looked at him. "Getting in to Luskan was hardly worth noting compared to getting out of it." She brushed a few strands of hair off her face, her eyes narrowing slightly. "So a difficult lass is breaking your heart with her wanderlust, is she?
Sand closed the door and then locked it, walking over to the bed and sitting besides Torio. "Ah - not exactly how I phrased it but I suppose he got the gist of it right. I wouldn't say...'breaking my heart' so much as making future plans extremely difficult. I'm a mage and an alchemist, we thrive on foresight and planning." His tone was joking. "I'm sorry, my dear Torio, my tongue was looser than I thought, I suppose. He charmed me with his hook. Forgive me and my indiscretion."
Torio snorted, scooting over so that he would have room to stretch out. "Yes, those hooks can be scintillating." She kept her face stony for a moment, and then shook her head, a slight smile twitching across her mouth. "You did have everything rather turned upside down on you, didn't you?" The words 'my love' almost automatically attached themselves to the end of her sentence, and she closed her mouth carefully on the words before they slipped out. She watched him for a moment. "I suppose it's not fair for me to demand you traipse along in my wake," she said tartly. Her voice softened. "I suppose we should focus on surviving, for now. But I...do not want you to be unhappy."
"Hmm. In these matters, things aren't always rational or fair. If they were, neither you nor I would be here, I suspect. You can ask it of me, nevertheless and we'll see how I respond at the time, my dear." He stroked her fingers lightly, then admitted, "I'll probably go with you. And I'd be happy to do so. Jaral, on the other hand, might object."
The mage pulled out his spell book and lay down besides her, the situation strikingly reminiscent of the day they spent together at the Seven Sails Inn. Once again they were heading into an uncertain future. He hoped he had made the right decision in letting Drakken go. "What would you have preferred to have done to Drakken, dear girl?"
She glanced at him wryly. "A dead man, I've found, is hardly as big of a threat as a live one." She leaned back against the pillows, so that her head rested next to his spell book. "But...death doesn't necessarily stop some men either. Garius comes to mind." She shrugged, her shoulders sliding against the mattress briefly. "I think in the circumstances neither choice would have stopped a pursuit. And the route we took was relatively bloodless." Her eyebrows flicked in cold amusement. "Making an honest woman of me yet, are we? There were days when he wouldn't have lived three minutes on this ship."
Sand looked up from his spell book and straight into her eyes. "Making you an honest women? Goodness no, Torio, just a slightly less lethal one. Does or did Drakken deserve to die? Oh yes. I am certain his past is less than holy but he was just doing his job - and competently too I might add since we were being smuggled out - and that resulted in him being a prisoner." He flipped through the book a bit more before adding, "We're lawyers and you were an ambassador. I believe creative truth telling is part and parcel to the job description, is it not?"
Torio shifted slightly, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. She knew that most homeborn Luskanites...or anyone that eventually resided in Luskan, for that matter...were eventual products of the cruel city and the demands it made on the people within its walls. She had risen from urchin to courtesan to one of the most powerful women on the Sword Coast, by fearlessly stepping over (or on) anything that got in her way. It was just the way things were; you did such, or you didn't survive. But thinking that a man she had carelessly talked of killing was merely a product of circumstance...
...like her...
She slid her fingers along his arm, pushing the sleeves of his robe aside and tracing his skin, trying to push such thoughts aside. "Mmmm...I suppose you have a point. Although keep in mind his imprisonment was much kinder than anything we would have found in reciprocation in Luskan." She chuckled...her fingers pushed his sleeve up to his shoulder, her fingers brushing rhythmically along his skin. "And I have to say, my imprisonment in Neverwinter was much kinder in a few ways than a free life in Luskan's wall." She lifted her head slightly and began kissing his arm, her eyes partially closed.
Sand gave a short laugh, "I would have been surprised if they even brought us to a prison and didn't kill us outright. We had already escaped from one, dear girl. We are dangerous criminals on the run." Her lips were soft, seductive on his arm; Sand tried flipping through a few more pages of his spell book (Hmm, a water breathing spell, a flying spell...) and then gave up. She was demanding his immediate attention.
"Dear girl! I am never going to get any work done because of you." Sand closed the spell book and tossed it on the floor. He pulled her to him, his shoulder protesting somewhat at the movement. "Yes, Neverwinter can be rather generous with their prisoners, Helkaer. I have known guardians of prisoners to slip them wine, sex, and protection on a regular basis despite their liege's command."
He smiled at her, feeling relaxed and safe for the first time in many hours. He ran his fingers through her hair, working out the tangles that had knotted parts of her short chestnut hair into clumps. "I find it ironic we are surrounded by water and yet have no water for a bath."
Torio winced slightly as Sand's agile fingers began combing through her hair, but she merely nuzzled closer, her eyes inches from his. "You've had three centuries to get some work done, Sand," she said slyly, her mouth twitching in a smile. "Take a few moments off while you can." She deftly pulled open the front of his robes, flicking the laces apart, and slid her hands along his chest before wrapping them around his torso, kissing him lightly. Her sudden horizontal state combined with being on a bed was causing her entire body to relax with an overwhelming, contented weariness.
She shut her eyes lazily, nuzzling his neck. "It explains the general, unwashed state of most of the crew," she said, yawning. "Not inspired to take up sailing, Bodaes?" She chuckled. "The crew seems to have taken quite well to you. Just think; all the free sailing you could want, no political intrigues, silver shards, or half-crazed gnomes, and all the horrible bilge-watered ale you could drink."
His skin goosebumped where she touched him and he paused, a moment.
...all the free sailing you could want, no political intrigues, silver shards, or half-crazed gnomes, and all the horrible bilge-watered ale you could drink...
Did she know how tempting an offer she was really presenting to him, despite her jest? He tried to imagine them living a simple life at sea working for the Shadow Thieves, sailing from port to port. Could the King of Shadows reach them out on the waters? They would quite effectively disappear; Abelor was planning on changing the identity of the ship anyway. Nasher had his precious map so they had accomplished their goals and Sand was certain he'd be able to find a way to remove the binding power of the oaths they had sworn to Neverwinter. It would just be him and Torio (and Abelor, and Old Carmen, and Robbie and Chancy and Kilbur...)
All right, not quite as romantic but...
In fact, they could probably have Abelor drop them off someplace other than Neverwinter and they could hide in the woodwork...or land work...or whatever it was, until all had assumed them dead. "What if I said yes, dear girl? What if I agreed to sails the seas with the crew until a time when it was safer to return to Neverwinter? What if they left us some place else - Waterdeep, Amn, Athkatla and we tried our fortunes out that way? What would you say?"
Torio's eyes opened again. She tilted her head back to look at his face more clearly; was he jesting?
Could someone like her really disappear? They would have to go far, and there were few places that hadn't at least heard her name. "Evereska's out, you know," she said quietly. "They know my face there, and they remember Garius...I'm afraid we'd be hard pressed to find someplace where we could both ease into a cloak of anonymity." She narrowed her eyes at him shrewdly. "If you were serious about this, Bodaes, you know I would say yes. The thought of returning to servitude, however congenial and fairhanded it is, does not appeal to me, and..." She swallowed hard, "...you wouldn't...have to face the King of Shadows, or Garius."
She brushed her fingers along his skin, watching him closely, her heart thudding rapidly. She could actually visualize it; skirting Neverwinter's contacts, submersing themselves into some far off city...playing husband and wife for real? She knew she could survive practically anywhere, if she could survive in Luskan...and Sand was powerful enough for ten hedgewizards combined...
"Your determination to root out the deadly threat sweeping across the Sword Coast suddenly lacking, my dear?" Her hand traced up and down his back, feeling the slight ridge in his skin where his spine was.
Sand blinked slowly, mulling over his thoughts and feelings. "Dear girl, you know my service to the Knight Captains was never completely by free choice. Can you really blame me for having ideas otherwise? Yes, the Guardian must be stopped but...really, Torio, they can probably find another mage to step in should I go missing. Nasher was rather clear that I was expendable..." He couldn't help but feel bitter. For all the work he had done for Neverwinter, to be suddenly cut adrift like that, tossed to mercy or rather, lack of mercy, of Luskan.
"Ah...yes, I understand you were drawn into this whole affair for the trial." That old pang of guilt shot through her, and yet..."The price you pay for having a wit that even remotely matches my own, I suspect." Her voice was light, but her arms tightened around him momentarily. He wouldn't be in this mess had they not instigated the trial for Ember...
...but then, she wouldn't have him if he wasn't in this mess, now would she?
Sand did feel guilty for even thinking about abandoning his friends and for making all the efforts of Silverfox, Lightfoot and Ringside Molly to get them safely home for naught but as his eyes gazed steadily into Torio, he realized most of his allegiances now lay with the woman lying besides him. The further he got her away from Neverwinter, the less danger she would be in. He found himself stroking her back idly, almost imagining he could feel the upraised scars of her skin.
"There just remains the issue of where to go and the fact that both of us are rather broke at the moment. And the fact that we may have to run for the rest of our lives from Luskan, Neverwinter and possibly the King of Shadows."
"By the gods, is nothing ever uncomplicated?" She snorted lightly. "I confess, it would be a more...dangerous life than you're probably used to." An eyebrow arched over one of her clear grey eyes sardonically as she glanced at his face. "Barring recent events, of course." She nuzzled his neck, inhaling deeply; her senses were swarmed with the faded metallic scent of old blood, boiled vegetables, (boiled vegetables?) the sweet, bitter smoke from Abelor's pipe and underneath it, the slightly buzzing, living smell of magic that clung to him always.
Sand laughed and gave her a half-smile before answering, "More dangerous than I'm probably used to? My dear Torio, I have been up to my ears in githyanki and demons for months. And I'm not talking those charming ones the warlock summons for tea and scones either." Sand paused then added, "I'm not joking about the scones."
"Would you be willing to do that, Sand?" Her voice sounded more serious than she meant it to. Concerned for the moral state of the elf wizard's conscience, are you, Torio? "Run forever? Dodge retribution? However...impromptu those vows were that we took, they were binding. We'd have to find a way to nullify them...or outrun magical vows..."
He pulled her even closer until their bodies were pressed together, chest down to toes. "There is a way around the vows. I know a spell called Wish...I learned it very recently. I don't know if I could abandon my friends during their darkest hours and all - goodness knows they need my help - but..." Sand's blue eyes lit up brightly. His heart was hammering in his chest and he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this earlier. "I could send you away, to another plane even where you would be safe. It would be a new start for you in the best of ways. I could join you afterwards..."
He sat up on the bed. "I could cast it now."
Torio frowned as he began speaking again, the amusing image of Ammon sitting at a table, hunched over a teacup with a hezrou squatting across from him vanishing entirely. Another plane? What would she do, wander interstellar paths aimlessly while Sand would be fighting or...dying on Faerun? She would have no way of knowing, no way of receiving word. True she might be safe, as safe as any prime would be on their own in a strange world. But she'd be alone...
"You sure as the hells will not cast it now," she said in her clipped voice. "What would I do, Sand? I'm no warrior, no, and I can't...shoot flames from my fingers like your little sorceress or control the elements like your druidess but I am not some helpless foundling. It took two of us to get out of Luskan and I'll be damned if I'll just...just wander without any way of knowing whether you're alive or..." Her voice caught and she inhaled deeply, calming herself; her temper had a way of crackling hotter than a smith's fire once she allowed herself to get going, and she paused for a long moment before meeting Sand's eyes.
"No," she said smoothly. "It's cost me too much to...to have found you." She turned her head, her eyes flicking downward and toying with the bedclothes absently. "If I go anywhere, wizard, it will be with you. And if you stay, then I'll suppose I'll have to stay as well."
She let out a breath shakily, trying to make her voice lighter. "Besides, someone has to look out for you; otherwise that overloaded conscience of yours would cause you all sorts of trouble."
Sand lifted his hands and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "Emotionally blackmailing me into going with you, Ambassador?"
"Whatever it takes, Counselor." Her eyes were steely gray, determined.
He sighed then dropped his hands. He understood where she was coming from; he really did and yet the idea that she was staying and risking her life because of him... "I think I would sleep easier at night, Torio, if I knew you were safe from all this. I know you aren't helpless - you have demonstrated that time and time again - but when the battle comes to our doorstep, languages and poisons won't work against shadows and heavens know what else they've come up with by now." He considered, for the briefest of a moment, casting the spell and sending her away anyway. Yes, she'd be blazing mad and cursing from here until Sigil but she would adapt. She might even become happy with time.
He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes a moment. "The minute you want to leave, the minute the danger becomes too great - I'll send you away, my dear. No questions asked, nothing wanted in return. Promise me that you'll at least consider it."
His forehead felt cool against hers; she tilted her face slightly, brushing the tip of her nose against his, and sighed. "Neverwinter and its promises." Her fingers snaked forward, touching his lightly. "I'll...consider it, Bodaes." She almost wished he hadn't mentioned it; a craven part of her really was considering taking him up on it, especially with the thought of Garius bearing down on the coast.
That was a reckoning she was not looking forward to.
The elf smiled wryly, his eyes still closed, his skin still against hers. "I'm already in trouble for my 'overloaded conscience' - I've started sleeping with the enemy, I've let Drakken go...what's next? Sending the Guardian for therapy?" He snorted and then his expression softened. "Well if you won't let me use Wish to save you, maybe...I could use it for something else instead?"
Torio pulled her face back from his a fraction of an inch, eyeing him curiously. "Use it for what?" Her mouth twitched in amusement. "Summon a hot bath, maybe?"
Sand laughed. "Well if that is what you wish for most, I suppose I could. But - " He caught her eyes and then reached down and slowly lifted her tunic, revealing her marked skin. He lowered his mouth to her stomach, kissing it lightly. "But I think I can remove these, if you would prefer that."
Torio held her breath as he lifted her tunic, feeling the cool air brush across her skin. She eyed him warily. "You think you can remove these... Are you sure?" She propped herself up onto her elbows, looking down at the parallel slash-scars across her stomach. "Is it worth it to waste such a spell on pure vanity, Bodaes?" She touched her own stomach briefly.
It'd be worth it to erase that memory from her head completely...
She caught his eyes with her own. "Well." She crossed her fingers below her breasts and looked at him expectantly. "Work your 'magic,' wizard, if you think it might work."
Sand gently pulled her to a sitting position, slipping his hands under her tunic, placing one hand on her stomach, the other on her back. His sensitive fingertips could feel the lumpy trails on her skin and he traced them a moment by feel alone. It wasn't pure vanity and they both knew it. He was very certain the spell would work; it could send travelers to other planes, it could bring back the dead - and gods be damned, he would make it restore her.
He contemplated her face a moment: she was staring up at him with a sort of cautious trust and expectancy, her breathing slow and steady against his hands. He knew this spell would drain him utterly so he hoped for what he was about to go through, that he would be successful. But most of all, he didn't want to dishearten her, let her down after all the disappointments of her life. He wanted, for once, for something to go her way.
Sand leaned forward, and kissed her softly, her lips yielding gently beneath his. His mouth still brushing against hers, he began the incantation. His brows furrowed in deep concentration, he brought up memories of her smooth, perfect skin. It was like the mental sexual games they had played during their entire trip but now he infused the memories with his power and care and love.
All those times they had made love, all those couplings in all those places - he remembered the way her skin had slid against his, how his fingers and lips had taken it all in. He thought of the first night in the Library, looking up from between her legs, how her flat smooth stomach looked below her ample breasts and her absolutely fierce expression as he toyed with her, threatening to stop his mouth. He remembered the time he had taken her from behind, how her flawless back had arched for him, how he could see the ripples of muscle, her shoulder blades under the rosy skin. He recalled how he pressed his face into the nape of her neck inhaling the intoxicating scent of her - books, candles, woman. Her skin was always so warm, compared to his - heated like lava was flowing in her veins. Only appropriate for such a fiery, passionate woman.
The magic was sizzling around him, crackling from his head and searing through his entire body. He felt so light, like he was lifting from the small bed, taking Torio with him into the air. The electricity rippled down his arms and into hands where it concentrated in his fingertips. He felt his hands tightened around Torio's midsection as the white and blue arcs of energy leapt from his fingers to her skin. He was being pulled, it seemed, from the inside out through his hands into her and she was draining him, taking him into her...
Torio's breath sucked in long and deep as the first crackles of magic licked across her skin; his fingers grew hot, hotter than any humans, hotter than pure fire, and yet it was pleasant, thrilling; images shot through her mind, Sand's memories...their memories. A soft sigh escaped her mouth, her brow furrowing slightly in remembered passion and more than a little awe as she felt the power build between his hands and her skin. His mouth pressed against hers, firm and pliant, reassuring and desperate, and then...
Her skin...shifted...
Keldrin's cruel face stared down at her. The whip cracked in her mind, but it was moving backwards, slowly; blood splattered and then disappeared, pain came, fleeting, and then was just as quickly snuffed out; Sand was on the ground in front of her, his elegant face tight with pain and shoved into the flagstones. Falathiel was breaking him, and the whip cracked again, but it seemed to flick away from her body at the last moment. They were laughing; she was crying...
And then the images, the pain, the blood flowing from her back and stomach, were suddenly and irrevocably dissipated; her eyes snapped open, and her skin felt immeasurably warm, tingling almost uncomfortably.
Sand sighed, breathed out "A'maelamin..." and then his eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed on the bed.
Torio sat very still for a long moment, her heart beating in short, rapid beats as the energy released against her skin fizzled and faded, her breathing ragged and uneven. She walked her hands forward, moving her face close to the elf's. "Sand? Sand." For one, panicked moment, she believed she really did manage to kill him; her fingers pressed against the side of his neck...a steady, slow pulse pushed against her searching fingertips, and she exhaled, long and low. Out cold.
She tentatively, almost fearfully, ran a hand across her stomach, the palm of her other hand sliding around her lower back. The skin was smooth, soft and supple. The scars were gone.
For the third time in merely a short span of days, and one of the few in her thirty years of life, Torio eyes stung with hot, bitter tears. She covered her face with her hands for a moment, inhaling raggedly.
When she bent over Sand's relaxed, pale face a few moments later, her eyes were bright, but dry. She brushed a few strands of hair from his face, pressing her lips against his briefly. "I love you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
And not a whip in sight.
She slipped off the bed, pulling her tunic back down over her waist. The energy from the spell still rippled through her, quiet, fading; but hells take it if she'd be able to sleep now. She cautiously slipped out the cabin door, shutting it behind her, and strode out onto the deck.