Chapter 1: Needs

His white hair fell over his shoulders, and glimmered like freshly fallen snow…very freshly fallen snow. His skin nearly matched it, a pale tone that only an albino or a moon elf could hold naturally. His dark green eyes betrayed it to be the latter reason, and their five golden flecks, identical in each eyes, glimmered with anticipation. He forced his breathing to steady, reminding himself that he had a long fight ahead of him.

The young moon elf sat tensely upon a throne of obsidian. The light seemed absorbed within its very surface, and yet he still gleamed. He took another steadying breath. Dusk had fallen in the land outside, and he did not doubt that she would be to see him soon.

His eyes darted to the exits once more, making sure that they were clear. He could only pray that she would understand his need for a break, and that she would accept the responsibility of holding his position while he went off adventuring. In a society of assassins it was hard to find anyone whom you could trust, but he trusted her…at least as long as she didn't get too angry or too hungry.

The great black double-doors before him opened easily as she strode in. White hair that still showed a tint of red hung in a loose pony tail and was flung easily over one shoulder. Her skin looked as though it had once been dark, but now it was simply a very light brown. She was dressed entirely in black, and her leather armor was of a clearly fine make. Her eyes were a feral brown, and undeniably haughty.

"What do you want, Aramil?" she inquired in an irritated tone.

He cringed. It would not help his case if she were already in a foul mood. "Nova," he started gently, "you know perfectly well that it is you I trust above all others here." She nodded, seeming to soften under his kind words. "I want you to know that it is only because of that trust that I ask this of you."

"What do you want?" She no longer seemed angry, but tired.

"Are you alright?" he asked, truly concerned. "I would not…"

"Do not worry about it, Aramil," Nova scolded, but a smile now graced her face. She had forgotten why she so enjoyed being with him. It was the very things which made him sometimes childish that she loved about him. It still amazed her that he had such the capacity to love and to truly care about another person.

"As long as you a truly well: Nova, I want you to take over my responsibilities for a short amount of time." He was impressed, she had let him finish the sentence…his good luck did not hold more than a second after that.

"You want me to what?" she asked incredulously.

"I want you to take over my responsibilities for a while." Her eyes had narrowed, decidedly not a good sign. "You are the only one I trust to do this, and I need the break!"

He supposed he should have been happy as the doors slammed behind her; he still had his head after all. Somehow though, the fact that she had not even graced him with words hurt more than anything else she could have done. It made him feel small, and he began to wonder if he would ever be able to truly help and affect anyone's life.

The deep sigh of contentment was warning one, the garish hat coming off of the head was warning two, and the big grin that spread across the drow's entire face was warning three. Artemis Entreri tried to forget how pathetic it really was that he knew all of the signs by now.

"Is not it an absolutely beautiful, marvelous, and wonderful day?"

Entreri glared at his companion, but had to retract it quickly. Why did the sun have to shine on Jarlaxle? The last thing he needed was for his colors to look brighter than they really were. Not only did Jarlaxle's cloak seem rather indecisive as far as what color it wanted to be that day, and thus flashing, but the drow himself had seemed rather indecisive. Jarlaxle's hat was its usual green with a purple feather, his shirt (which he was wearing to avoid repeating a rather nasty sunburn incident) was orange, and his vest seemed to be a bright red. The drow's trousers seemed to be a lime green, and the boots were made of some sort of lizard skin, some sort of red lizard skin. Just for wearing that hideous ensemble, and the gold jewelry did only make it worse, Entreri was determined to make Jarlaxle's day at least as miserable as Jarlaxle had made his.

"Are you even aware that we have less than a day's worth of rations left?" he snapped. Entreri hadn't known that you could deliberately put a hat back on your head before spontaneous laughter, but somehow Jarlaxle managed it.

"My friend, are you really always this…dull?"

"Have I been disappointing you?"

Jarlaxle let out a sigh which, as usual, was overdone. "I am afraid, my friend, that there are times when you seem rather….standard issue."

"Then why do you stay with me?"

"I stay with you for those times when a bit of you escapes that hard shell you seem so fond of keeping upon your person. Truly, you are fascinating, and full of potential!"

"And the more I look at that ridiculous outfit of yours the more I think that what I am really full of his bile."

"Is it really so bad?" Jarlaxle asked, seeming honestly surprised.

"Jarlaxle, you could blind a particularly vision impaired bat on a cloudy and moonless evening."

His companion gave a pout. "I do not think it so bad."

Entreri just shook his head, not particularly wanting to deal with the ridiculousness of it all at that particular moment.

"Tell me, why are going this way?"

There it was the question Entreri had been dreading having to answer. If Jarlaxle had asked where they were headed it would have been a relatively simple answer, but the question of why was one Entreri was still trying to figure out for himself.

"I wanted to head north," he replied curtly.

"If you had merely wanted to head north we could have gone to Vaasa and Damara, but instead we have circumvented the great desert. Where are we headed?"

"I want to go to the Moonwood." There, he had said it…and he still did not know why it was true. The only thing he could think was that Aramil had…but that had been so long ago that it did not seem possible.

"Why the Moonwood?"

Jarlaxle sounded extremely suspicious, but Entreri decided it was not a question he was in the mood to answer just then, and so they rode in silence…it was the unspoken agreement between them. They did not press each other too hard on motives; no matter how determined they were to find out.