Chapter Four
Kimmuriel was furious. Furious at Jarlaxle, who had made him meet this human in the first place! Furious at Entreri, who had felt so undeniably good in his arms! Furious at himself for going so far!
He had never intended to actually sleep with Entreri, but he had lost control over himself. He had desired Entreri too much to let him drop the way he had planned. But what enraged and confused him even more was that he hadn't brought himself to hurt the human when he had the chance. When he had seen the assassin trembling helplessly under him, he should have followed through with his threat. Yet in this moment, facing the human's fear - the fear of someone who had already experienced what awaited him - Kimmuriel had been reminded of his own fear, his own pain when he had still been at his sisters' mercy. He had felt strangely akin to this human, and recalling the first time someone had been gentle with him, he hadn't even felt the desire to hurt Entreri anymore, but rather to make him enjoy this as well.
And Kimmuriel had taken pleasure in the human's reactions, he had enjoyed their shared night more than anything else since his time with Rai-Guy. Kimmuriel wasn't good at lying to himself, and thus he couldn't deny that he had even enjoyed the aftermath of their passion, still intoxicated with the human's closeness and caresses, this bliss that went beyond pure physical satisfaction - something Kimmuriel had only rarely felt in his long life. He had been ... comfortable in Artemis' arms.
Artemis, he thought and scoffed. Since when do I call this human by his first name?
Kimmuriel was sure that he would never react so strongly to the assassin if he didn't feel so incredibly bored and ... alone! When Rai-Guy, or even Jarlaxle, had been here to distract him, he had never been lonely enough to realise how empty his life was on an emotional level. Slumping on a chair in his private quarters, the psionicist began to wonder what was so special about Entreri. It certainly weren't his skill and power that intrigued the drow - even though he couldn't deny the beauty of this trained body - and not even his intelligence.
This was more about the human's whole personality, his coldness, his discipline, his well-hidden pain. Kimmuriel suddenly wondered for the first time if his hatred for Artemis Entreri wasn't born simply out of racism, but also out of his outrage to see that he and this iblith had so much in common. The very thought troubled Kimmuriel, and he tried immediately to convince himself that he had erred. Because if they were indeed alike, and if Artemis Entreri - as cold, as lonely, as reticent as Kimmuriel - was able to feel something like love, didn't that mean that he, Kimmuriel, might also be able to develop such pathetic, humiliating feelings he would be incapable of suppressing? That he was maybe already developing them?
Was it not strange that he had never desired the human when he had seen just his strength and power, but only when he had discovered his weakness, his confusion, his loneliness - his fear in this beautiful moment when Entreri had lain under him, completely at his mercy. And it had been in this moment of the assassin's greatest weakness that Kimmuriel had felt akin to this iblith. Kimmuriel's resolution to hurt him, to make him scream and plead had been replaced by the desire to make him moan in pleasure.
He had told himself then that he did this only to humiliate Entreri differently, knowing that the assassin would hate himself for giving in to his lust, and that he couldn't rape him if he wanted to continue his game for some time. But now, with his thoughts cleared from the veil of passion, Kimmuriel became aware of his true reason to be gentle with the human: he had seen himself in him, he had felt a strange, deep affection for this man he had hated until then.
The psionicist still hated Entreri for making him lose control, for making him feel instead of keeping his head and acting in calm, cold calculation. Kimmuriel sighed deeply, wondering what he should do now.
Should he stop this immediately and forget the wonderful night he had spent with Entreri? But this way he would admit defeat, he would admit that he was unable to control himself and the situation, that this human had indeed managed to raise emotions in him. No, he had to continue, if only to prove himself that he was in control.
And he still wanted to hurt and humiliate Entreri - a humiliation that would be complete if he gave the human hope, if he was tender, if he convinced him that there was more between them than only carnal pleasure. He had to be patient and wait until Entreri was completely his, and then it would be so easy to destroy him.
Kimmuriel knew that he should be content with this change of plans, but he was still confused and worried. His feelings scared him, and though he was convinced that he had to destroy their source, they were unbelievably strong, they gnawed at his lonely heart, they were so difficult to fend off when he was alone and wished nothing more than to lie in those strong arms.
The drow bit on his lip and banned the memory from his mind. This strange, new aching that tormented him only strengthened his resolution. Such feelings made him weak, and they had to be extinguished. He had to know Entreri better to be sure that they had nothing in common, that the assassin was just scum like every human. And if Kimmuriel didn't see him anymore, he would maybe continue to think of him in such an unusually positive way. He couldn't risk that.
At least slightly calmed, the drow got up and decided to take a bath. Kimmuriel didn't realise that he had just, for the first time in his life, lied to himself without even noticing it.
It was late in the afternoon when Artemis woke up again. He turned around and frowned - it felt more than strange to wake up and see Jarlaxle lying beside him. The drow was already wide awake, his eyepatch back in place, just as his dazzling smile.
"Are you feeling better?" Jarlaxle asked softly, glad to see that Artemis' grey eyes seemed less agitated than in the morning.
"I feel ... calmer," the assassin answered hesitantly. "Not better."
Jarlaxle studied his friend closely, and while Artemis hid most of his feelings again, he virtually radiated shame. The drow doubted that his companion would be able to look at himself in a mirror without blushing.
"What are you ashamed of?" he asked. "That you liked it? How could you not, if he was gentle with you?"
"I'm ashamed of my lack of discipline, of allowing him to be in control," Artemis sighed, his voice hard and quiet - it cost him quite an effort to speak so openly about his feelings. But he felt that they would drive him mad if he kept locking them up, and the drow was the only confidant he had.
Jarlaxle knew that what he was about to say would probably backfire and make things even worse, but he had to draw Artemis' attention away from Kimmuriel, he had to do something! The drow swallowed hard and cast the human one of these charming glances, before he whispered, "I would let you be in control."
He was prepared for every reaction - angry stares, insults, reproaches, even a slap in the face - except for this one: Artemis only looked at him, lost in thoughts, his eyes unreadable even for his clever friend. The drow began to feel uncomfortable, but he knew that it would be inappropriate to look away or say something, and so he remained silent - quite an achievement for Jarlaxle, who usually tended to mask all serious problems with endless babble.
And then, slowly, Artemis lifted his right hand to Jarlaxle's face, softly pulling off the eyepatch. His fingers moved to the drow's left ear and began nimbly to take off the golden earrings, then did the same on the other ear. The assassin put the jewellery on the nightstand, before he returned his attention to the startled drow. His fingers came back to Jarlaxle's face, this time caressing the smooth cheek.
A deep sigh of pleasure and anticipation escaped Jarlaxle's lips, and he parted them as if inviting the human to take whatever he wanted. But Artemis wouldn't come any closer, and so Jarlaxle decided to take matters into his own hands. He leaned forward and softly kissed his friend on the lips, and to his delight his kiss was returned, while Entreri closed his eyes, letting go for at least a short moment.
Artemis' fingers trailed over Jarlaxle's back, pulling him closer. Their kiss was long, tender and most intimate, and even after their lips had parted, their faces stayed close. The human's hand moved slowly up, but he paused suddenly when he felt Jarlaxle's bare scalp under his fingers. His eyes fluttered open and he stared at the drow, immediately backing off and turning his head to the side.
Jarlaxle gazed at him in utter confusion, unable to say something until he heard Artemis' breathless whisper, "We shouldn't have done that."
His voice was filled with shame and guilt, and he couldn't look at his friend. The drow softly laid a hand on his chin, but the assassin evaded his touch.
"Why not? Did it not please you?" Jarlaxle asked in a trembling voice, the beauty of this longed-for kiss shattered by Artemis' sudden rejection.
"That's not the point. I told you that I can't see anything but a friend in you."
"You didn't kiss me like a friend," Jarlaxle protested, and there was a mixture of anger and hurt visible in his red eyes. This kiss had been one of the most beautiful, sincere signs of affection he had ever experienced, and now the human was telling him that it had meant nothing?
"I didn't kiss you!" Artemis shot back, hissing those words he hadn't wanted to speak out, knowing how much they would pain Jarlaxle. The drow finally understood, and as much as he had enjoyed their kiss, he wished that Artemis had never teased him like this. They sat there for several minutes, Artemis staring at the blankets, Jarlaxle staring at Artemis. The drow felt the sudden urge to return to Menzoberranzan and lecture Kimmuriel, to tell him to leave his hands off Artemis, but he knew that this would be the most stupid thing he could do.
Instead, he calmed down and asked quietly, "You never felt for someone the way you feel for him, did you?" Artemis shook his head.
"I did," Jarlaxle explained, and the human immediately looked at him. He was amazed and touched that the drow had apparently taken his complaint seriously - Jarlaxle had never before just talked about his past, least of all about painful memories. "I loved someone, decades ago, the only 'friend' of mine who was more than a profitable partner. I could have made him happy, or at least as happy as a man so bitter as he could become, but he refused me. Out of pride, or because he wanted only my friendship, I don't know. And later he loved someone else, someone who would destroy him sooner or later - not willingly, but it was unavoidable, and we both knew it. I lost him. I don't want to lose you, too."
The assassin stayed silent for a long time, pondering about Jarlaxle's words, about the manipulative drow's reasons for speaking them. Finally, Artemis answered suspiciously, "Are you trying to calm your conscience, if you have one, by 'saving' me?"
Jarlaxle winced at this unfair suspicion and shook his head. "No, but I learnt from a mistake and I won't repeat it. I know Kimmuriel, I know that there is only one thing he might want from you - your complete and utter humiliation. Please, Artemis," he whispered and looked at him pleadingly. "Be reasonable."
"Didn't you tell me that I was always too reasonable?" the assassin answered sadly. "I'm not so weak that Kimmuriel could play with me that easily. After last night ... I am calmer now. I can take care of myself."
Artemis' attempt to smile reassuringly made Jarlaxle wonder if the human was going to jump out of the window as soon as he was alone. But the drow nodded nonetheless - both of them had shown each other much of themselves this day, despite their respective paranoia and reclusiveness, and neither of them wanted to push this conversation further to a point where they would reveal too much of their carefully hidden feelings.
"I'll get us something to eat," Artemis proposed suddenly and stood up. Jarlaxle watched the assassin pull on his boots and leave, realising only now that they had eaten nothing the whole day long.
The drow hoped that next time Kimmuriel would come to visit Artemis, he would do something very stupid, something Artemis wouldn't suffer, something that would destroy the human's hurtful love. Jarlaxle sighed - why couldn't he think of a clever plan when he needed it most, why had he qualms to manipulate Artemis more? Instead, he was apparently waiting for a miracle.
Artemis and Jarlaxle had dinner together in the human's room, and the drow even managed to chatter a bit like he used to do. Although the day had been disastrous and his situation was still more than depressing, he felt reassured by the renewed calm in Artemis' eyes which gave him hope that the assassin would regain control over his feelings for Kimmuriel. Jarlaxle left after their meal, sensing that they needed both some time alone.
Artemis was, however, not surprised at all when he felt a warning tingle later in the evening. He lay on his bed, eyes closed and in deep concentration, and he looked only up when he felt someone sitting down on the mattress, and then soft fingers on his cheek.
"I thought I was disgusting," the human said coldly when his eyes met Kimmuriel's. He wondered if this drow had nothing better to do than to come here and torture him.
The psionicist shrugged nonchalantly, as if these words didn't matter at all. By now, he had noticed that his presence alone made Artemis nearly lose his mind, but this time, the human's anger and pain were finally stronger than his desire.
"I'm not your toy!" he growled and batted the drow's hand aside, sitting up and backing off to the other side of the bed. Kimmuriel decided to suppress his anger instead of slapping the insolent human again. He slowly raised a fine brow, while a seductive smile appeared on his curved lips.
"What are you then?" he asked in a whisper. "What are you to me, Artemis?" Kimmuriel repeated his question in common, and he was more than pleased by the effect of his words. The human shuddered - he was not used to hearing his given name from anyone but Jarlaxle, and Kimmuriel's way to pronounce it, slightly accented just like his common, his voice so promising, made Artemis wonder if he would be able to keep his head for much longer. He didn't answer, but speaking aloud was hardly necessary when dealing with such a powerful psionicist.
"My lover," Kimmuriel said with a smirk. "If that is my wish."
Artemis' eyes gleamed angrily when he heard his own humiliating thoughts - thoughts he would never admit to himself - spoken by the drow. Kimmuriel had to suppress a chuckle - this was almost too easy to be fun. Or rather, this might have been easy if the idea didn't appeal so much to him as well. The drow frowned and moved closer to Artemis, determined to distract himself from these hated feelings.
But the human held him back when he tried to open Artemis' shirt. "Don't," he said in a low voice, but he felt his resolve crumble with every second that passed.
"Why not? It would be the normal thing for lovers to do."
Artemis gasped and stared at him in shock - Kimmuriel's voice hadn't sounded ironic or mocking, but he couldn't possibly have meant his words.
"You are playing with me, again!" he hissed.
"How can I convince you that I am not?" the drow asked, and for once, he didn't look as if he was thinking about the most cruel possible way to kill the human. Artemis didn't answer, but scrutinised him for endless minutes, trying to discern the drow's true motivations. Eventually he softly pressed Kimmuriel against his chest, tenderly combing the white hair with his fingers.
The drow was startled by these sudden caresses, and a glance at Artemis' face showed him that the human was wondering as well what he was actually doing here. Even though the assassin's touches were as pleasurable as on the day before, Kimmuriel was unable to relax completely, and Artemis was just as tense. Normal, intimate closeness was nothing they were used to, and as much as they wanted to be together, they weren't comfortable in this position, not with so much on their minds.
"Why are you thinking of Jarlaxle?" Kimmuriel asked suddenly, propping himself up to look the human in the eyes - he seemed to be relieved to have found some way to end this awkward silence.
"I would appreciate if you stopped reading my thoughts," Artemis snarled, but he didn't answer the question. He would certainly not tell Kimmuriel what Jarlaxle had entrusted him with, and if the psionicist decided to look for the answers himself, there was nothing the assassin could do to deter him from it.
But Kimmuriel just looked at him and stated, without anger in his voice, "He knows."
Artemis nodded, hoping that Kimmuriel would drop the issue. Of course, he couldn't tell if the psionicist didn't know more than he revealed, but at least Kimmuriel stopped his questioning and just returned into Artemis' arms, apparently lost in his thoughts. Artemis was unable to fathom what Kimmuriel was up to, why his behaviour became stranger from day to day, but the psionicist's unexplainable signs of affection were still preferable to his insults. And even though it took them some time, they finally managed to relax more or less - yet Kimmuriel felt Artemis tensing each time he stirred a little.
The assassin's worries returned when Kimmuriel started again to open his shirt, but he didn't protest, all the more as the drow didn't proceed, but contented himself with caressing his chest, still studying him carefully.
"What happened to your skin?" Kimmuriel wondered aloud, noticing not for the first time the greyish hue of Artemis' formerly tanned skin. He had also seen that the human looked a bit younger than in Calimport: some of the small crinkles in the corners of his eyes and his mouth had vanished. Though the assassin was more than four decades old, he could easily be mistaken for a man in his mid thirties, all the more as his hair was still inkblack and his body would have filled most younger men with envy.
"We fought a shade in the North," Artemis explained curtly, wondering if the psionicist couldn't just stop to analyse everything. "I killed him with my vampiric dagger, and it appears that he somehow ... rubbed off on me."
"Fascinating," Kimmuriel mumbled, gently stroking a black strand of hair out of Artemis' face and kissing him on the cheek. "And why don't you shave regularly?"
The human stared daggers at him - was Kimmuriel of late using Jarlaxle's preferred way of torture, asking countless annoying questions? "I do shave dayly," the assassin growled.
The drow didn't seem convinced. "Maybe you should shave twice a day," he suggested.
"Unlike Jarlaxle, I'm not vain enough to spend hours in front of a mirror," Artemis said dryly, but he grinned a bit, amazed to see the same amused expression on Kimmuriel's face. He felt bad for making fun of his friend in front of Kimmuriel, but the psionicist's smirk was just too enjoyable to regret his words. For a second, Kimmuriel almost smiled, until he restrained himself again and his features hardened.
But his eyes had softened a little, and he kissed Artemis again on the cheek, ignoring the raw stubble. He could hardly believe how much he enjoyed this, and he grew more and more certain that it would be a rather pleasant experience to seduce this man further. He just wasn't sure anymore if he would still want to destroy him once the time had come. Slowly, he recognised that he had been lying to himself on the previous day when he had thought that his only motivation was still to humiliate Artemis.
Kimmuriel stirred when he found himself harbouring again such miserable thoughts, and when his eyes met Entreri's, he saw the same doubt and discomposure in them.
"This is getting out of control," Artemis said firmly, still holding the drow in his arms. "Not only out of my control, but out of yours as well. You didn't plan this."
The psionicist looked at him, wide-eyed, and whispered, "You're right." His calm voice sounded strangely weak, and he was still caressing the human's shoulders and chest. "I should leave."
"Yes, you should. And don't come back," Artemis demanded almost violently, all the while betraying his true wish by firmly pressing the drow against him.
"I won't," Kimmuriel answered, his lips only an inch from Entreri's. He had no idea who moved first, but they were entwined in a nearly furious kiss only a second later, tugging at each other's clothes. But as soon as their lips parted, Artemis turned his head away and gasped almost pleadingly, "Kimmuriel ... please go ..."
"Not now, Artemis," the drow objected, not looking at the human either. His lips moved close to Artemis' ear, and his next words were nothing more than a whisper, as if Kimmuriel couldn't bring himself to speak them truly aloud. "Can we not ... wait until the morning to be reasonable?"
The drow was ashamed of his own words, and he was sure that he had just humiliated himself in the worst possible way, but he couldn't stand the thought of leaving right now. Just another night, then he could overthink his failed plan and act reasonably. A last night to heed his desires before expelling them, no matter how.
"Why would you want that?" Artemis asked breathlessly, repeating the question Kimmuriel had already refused to answer on the day before.
"Why do you care?" Kimmuriel snapped angrily and almost reproachfully. "I want this, you want this, now stop your questioning and shut up!"
The psionicist apparently didn't know that there was no better way to upset Artemis Entreri than by giving him orders. The assassin's eyes gleamed furiously and he pushed the drow rudely away, quickly sitting up and buttoning his shirt. "I'm sick of your games, of your changes of mood, of your indecision between playing the tender lover and being the cruel bastard you truly are! Now get out of here!"
Artemis got up and backed off to evade the drow's touches, desperately trying to fight his lust down. No matter how good the last night had been, Artemis wouldn't repeat it, he wouldn't be Kimmuriel's whore.
The drow stared at the human, carefully reconsidering his plans. Should he leave now and admit defeat, in spite of his original determination? Nobody could win all the time, and it would be reasonable to abandon an undertaking that was lost. He could find someone else among his lieutenants to distract him. Or he could stay - to do what? He considered raping the human, if only to make him scream instead of speaking those horribly emotional words, words Kimmuriel couldn't dismiss as nonsense. His feelings were becoming too great a weakness, he had no time left for elaborate games - he had to destroy the human now before he would be incapable of doing it.
Kimmuriel rose slowly and went over to the tensing assassin, his face blank and cold. Artemis immediately started to back off when he looked in Kimmuriel's eyes and saw nothing there but the promise of death. He tried to get to his weapons, but he suddenly froze in place, incapable of moving at all under the command of the psionicist's mind. His eyes widened in horror when Kimmuriel softly embraced and kissed him, caresses that seemed now like a macabre imitation of their former intimacy.
"You are right, Artemis," the drow said calmly. "We need to stop this before it is too late. I will make sure that you won't miss me. Be grateful, for it will not be that easy for me."
His fingers trailed over the human's chest, but he took no pleasure in Artemis' fear, in the prospect of hurting him. Yet he forced himself to continue, slowly starting to strip the assassin.
It took Artemis all of his willpower to move his lips, and even then he only managed to whisper one word - the drow's name.
Kimmuriel stopped, and the determination in his eyes was again replaced by confusion, even fear. In this moment, the powerful psionicist looked unbelievably young and vulnerable, confronted with a situation his ingenious mind couldn't handle. He swallowed and took his hands off the human's belt, then turned around and quickly conjured one of his trademark gates.
"I hate you," he whispered before stepping through the portal, but his voice wasn't filled with venom and disdain anymore, only with helplessness. In the same moment, he broke his psionic grip on Entreri, yet he didn't wait for an answer.
Artemis didn't believe him, but after what Kimmuriel had been on the verge of doing, the human realised that it didn't matter whether the drow really hated him or not. As long as Kimmuriel pretended to hate him - and Artemis doubted that this would ever change - there was no way for them to get together.
He decided that this particularly humiliating period of his life was irrevocably over. Now he only needed to suppress his feelings and go through with this rational decision.