Chapter Five

Even after Kimmuriel had left, Artemis didn't move for some time, too shocked to think clearly. He needed several minutes just to fully understand what had just happened - that this drow he hated or loved or maybe both had been on the verge of raping him. That he had been determined to do it.

Artemis sank on a chair, staring wide-eyed at the spot where Kimmuriel had disappeared. The assassin had often faced death, and it had never truly scared him, but now he was frightened, and hurt. There had been brief moments when he had hoped that they could find some peace and intimacy together, but these dreams had been shattered in the last minutes. Artemis would have thought it impossible that he might feel even worse than during the past days, but he did, and although he usually preferred to keep his problems to himself, the prospect of remaining alone in this room, thinking of Kimmuriel, of what might have been and of what truly was, scared him more than he would ever care to admit.

Once he had calmed down a bit, he dressed again and went to Jarlaxle's room, quickly picking the lock when nobody answered his knock. He was surprised that the drow wasn't there, but he decided to sit down and wait for his friend. For a friend was what he needed most now.

Yet he had no idea what he wanted to tell Jarlaxle, or what he expected from him. Artemis was convinced that he needed to talk about this and to get some comfort, but he had no time to think of what exactly he should say, because the drow returned soon enough.

Jarlaxle seemed less cheerful than usual after a nice evening spent flirting with a barmaid. Actually, the drow looked weary, and for a moment Artemis felt bad for wanting to burden him with his problems. But then, Jarlaxle had been the one to start this whole confide-in-each-other-thing, so he had no right to complain if Artemis finally accepted his offer.

The drow looked surprised when he spotted the assassin, and his worry was visible through his smile. He knew that something bad must have happened, or the man wouldn't be here.

"Artemis, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Artemis stared at the floor, answering in a strained and hoarse voice, "Kimmuriel was here."

Jarlaxle's smile froze and his expression turned for a moment so angry that it would have startled Entreri if he had looked at him. But the assassin felt Jarlaxle's concern and quickly explained, "I sent him away."

When he finally looked at Jarlaxle, the drow seemed torn between worry, affection and helplessness - he just stood there under Artemis' stare until he finally stirred and went over to the assassin's chair, sitting down on an armrest.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked quietly, but he doubted it. If Kimmuriel had really hurt the human, Artemis would hardly be able to move at all, and he'd probably be too ashamed to come to Jarlaxle. Indeed, the assassin shook his head, but his shivering showed clearly that he was anything but fine.

"He nearly did. I don't know why he held back, he was so determined to do it. If it wasn't so absurd, I'd say that he tried to convince himself that he had to do it, but didn't want it," the assassin explained haltingly, struggling to find the right words. Despite his pain, he almost sounded hopeful, as if there was still some part in him that liked to believe that Kimmuriel did not hate and disdain him. After all, he had seen the drow's confusion and hesitation, he had seen emotions whenever the mask of coldness and cruelty had cracked.

When Jarlaxle laid a hand on Artemis' shoulder, the usually reluctant human didn't flinch - he even leaned against this hand. He thought of his rest earlier this day, he remembered how much Jarlaxle's presence had comforted him, and he desperately longed to return to this state of security, this unknown feeling that someone took care of him. The drow didn't say anything and just pulled Artemis closer to himself. Whatever had happened between him and Kimmuriel, it had wounded the human deeply, otherwise he would never allow Jarlaxle to comfort him. Of course, Artemis didn't cry, but he trembled and his normally steady breathing had turned into uneven gasps.

"Why does this hurt so much?" Artemis whispered, barely realising that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. He had still no idea how he should deal with his feelings, and Jarlaxle was once again amazed that an over forty-year-old, attractive man could be so inexperienced in terms of relationships.

"Because you love him," Jarlaxle answered, stating the obvious, but in this particular case, nothing seemed to be obvious to the confused human. The drow cringed when he spoke those words - realising that he was once again losing the man he loved to another.

The assassin glared at him and receded a bit. "Don't mock me. I have never loved anyone, least of all him."

"I am not mocking you," the drow sighed, growing exasperated. "Are you really so blind that you cannot recognise your own feelings?"

"These feelings do not matter," Artemis snarled, and he almost managed to sound convinced of his own words. Yet the pain and longing in his eyes betrayed him when he continued, "This is over. I don't care about your damn lieutenant, and I won't allow myself to sink even lower!"

"I would love to believe you, Artemis, but I can't. And you are not believing it either," Jarlaxle replied sadly, caressing the assassin's cheek.

"I don't want to think of him anymore," Artemis said evasively, and as Jarlaxle usually heard only what he wanted to hear, he took this as an invitation. What better way to distract him from Kimmuriel than by replacing the psionicist? He bent forward to kiss Artemis, but while the human accepted his fingers on his cheek, he turned his head to elude the kiss.

Knowing that it was already an immense sign of trust that Artemis had come to him, Jarlaxle decided that he shouldn't push the human too far and just be content with what he was given. And considering Entreri's reluctant, cold behaviour only a week ago, that was already much. Just as Jarlaxle had hoped, Artemis was turning towards him in his misery, and as much as he hated to see his friend in such a state, he appreciated the result. A smile made it to his face when he laid his arms around the trembling man, brushing his lips over Artemis' hair.

They resumed their journey on the next day, travelling south as if nothing had happened - but some things had definitely changed. Although Jarlaxle was again smiling and talking continuously, his glances at Artemis were rather seductive than friendly, and the assassin himself was at the same time irritable and trustful towards Jarlaxle. They continued to take separate rooms in taverns, and Artemis firmly rejected Jarlaxle every time the drow's advances became too blunt, but he did it calmly and not as aggressively as Jarlaxle might have expected.

Both of them were quite disconcerted the day of their next meeting with Kimmuriel, several days after the psionicist's last visit, but they hid their worries perfectly: Jarlaxle behind a dazzling smile, Artemis behind a deep frown.

The assassin still tensed when the well-known blue gleam appeared in the air on the small clearance not far from the road, and he was more than glad to have Jarlaxle with him. He wouldn't want to face Kimmuriel alone, for he felt his heart beating faster when the psionicist, accompanied by two drow soldiers, stepped through the portal. He became again painfully aware that their last meeting had changed nothing about his desire for the drow.

Kimmuriel, however, didn't even look at him, but coldly started his usual report to Jarlaxle, answering the endless stream of questions. This could have been a meeting just like any other, and Artemis already expected to get away without even one disdainful glance from the psionicist, until he heard Kimmuriel's voice in his head, while the lieutenant effortlessly continued his conversation with Jarlaxle.

I need to talk to you. Alone.

Alone? Artemis thought after a startled pause, supposing that Kimmuriel was already reading his thoughts and would 'hear' his answer. Why? To make sure that Jarlaxle doesn't interfere with your games?

Don't forget what I could have done to you last time, yet I didn't do it.

Oh, you expect me to be grateful because you refrained from raping me? Artemis had difficulties to think this only and remain silent - he wasn't used to such telepathic conversations, but he certainly didn't want Jarlaxle to notice anything.

Kimmuriel's answer wasn't clearly worded, but Artemis suddenly felt the drow's affection, a feeling of warmth and sympathy that caressed his mind. The psionicist apparently was more comfortable to show his feelings this way than in a normal conversation. Before Artemis could react, he felt the psionic link break, and while he would normally be relieved about this, he felt now a strange emptiness, as if something important had been taken from him.

During all this time, Kimmuriel hadn't even looked at him, hadn't even once hesitated, and Jarlaxle apparently was not remotely suspicious. It was only after Kimmuriel had left, when they were back on the road, that Jarlaxle noticed Artemis' renewed distress. He usually chattered excitedly about what his lieutenant had told him, but now he seemed too worried about his friend.

"I'm fine," Artemis hissed before Jarlaxle could pester him with his questions.

"I can see that," Jarlaxle answered sarcastically - there were many words to describe the assassin's current state of mind, but 'fine' was definitely not among them. The drow's voice sounded disappointed and nearly reproachful when he added, "You still miss him."

Artemis bit back a retort that would only hurt his friend without achieving anything, and he reacted the same way he had reacted to Jarlaxle's conversation attempts in the past: he said nothing, glared angrily and pretended to ignore him. Jarlaxle saw himself forced to drop the issue, and more out of habit than for fun he started to talk - or rather think aloud - about the last events in Menzoberranzan, his voice lacking the usual cheerful tone.

The human didn't listen, he was too absorbed in his thoughts about Kimmuriel - he had felt as if the psionicist had embraced his soul the way he had embraced his body days ago, but it had felt more honest. He could hardly believe that such a sign of affection could be faked, yet he knew that the psionicist was certainly capable of manipulating his mind so completely. And still, he had felt so close to Kimmuriel, even closer than he had been to Jarlaxle during the last days when his friend had comforted him. He almost pitied Jarlaxle, who tried so desperately to get more from him than only friendship, who really seemed to care for him. For Artemis started to believe him, even to trust him to a certain degree, but he could not return his feelings. Jarlaxle's tenderness and care of the last days hadn't elated him half as much as the short moments of intimacy with Kimmuriel.

He couldn't help but wonder why the psionicist had not simply ignored him - where had his determination to end their 'relationship', if it could be called like that, gone? Why did Kimmuriel want to see him, why had he shown him his feelings clearer than ever before?

Artemis remained lost in thoughts for the rest of the afternoon, and he refused to spend the evening with Jarlaxle, going immediately to his own room after their meal. He had barely closed the door when Kimmuriel appeared in his room, and Artemis wondered again if leading Bregan D'aerthe shouldn't require more of the psionicist's time.

They stared at each other for several seconds until Kimmuriel finally approached him.

"I thought we agreed that this should end," Artemis sighed, almost physically pained by the drow's presence. His memories of the time with Kimmuriel had turned into a sickening, mazy mixture, somewhere between the unflawed bliss of their shared lust and the aching burn of the drow's threats and insults.

"Neither of us is able to end this," Kimmuriel stated matter-of-factly, and his cold voice only added to Artemis' discomposure.

"So you simply continue your game, because raping me would be easier than forgetting me?" the assassin snapped, the painful memory making him forget his pride.

"I could have done that, and I didn't. Why should I do it now? Artemis ... I'm not asking you to believe me, but I assure you that I won't force anything upon you," Kimmuriel said stiffly, and he sounded as if he had rehearsed these words. The human shook his head and turned his back to the psionicist, staring out of the window. He refused to accept any petty excuses or promises, but Kimmuriel apparently waited for an answer.

"This is hopeless," Artemis said after a while.

"Hopeless?" the drow echoed in common, obviously not familiar with the word. Artemis sighed and turned his head, glancing at Kimmuriel. Of course, there was no concept of hope in drow society and, as a consequence, in their language. But he forced himself to remain calm - he probably should be glad that the drow understood common at all, for Artemis had no idea how he should explain his feelings in drow.

"It is ... pointless. There is no possibility that this might end well for any of us, let alone for both of us," he said, hoping that the drow would get his point.

Kimmuriel seemed to ponder about these words for a while, but he eventually shook his head. "Maybe not, but there is no possibility either that we just ignore what happened and go on with our lives. I cannot forget this, nor can you."

Artemis snorted, again staring out of the window. As much as he would have liked to, he couldn't believe what he heard - it wasn't like Kimmuriel to admit his own weakness. This had to be another move in a game in which Artemis didn't know the rules.

"Didn't I show you clearly that I am serious about this, that I ... care?" Kimmuriel's voice nearly failed him at the last word, and once again, he received no answer. There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them, and although Artemis couldn't see the drow, he physically sensed his agitation - an agitation that was no feint, that was as true and real as the affection he had felt earlier this day through the psionic bond.

"Why do you think that this is any easier for me than for you?" the drow whispered finally, and this blunt, surprising admission made Artemis turn around. The assassin's suspicions still gnawed at him - hadn't Kimmuriel also been tender and caring just minutes before threatening him again? Yet Artemis was almost overwhelmed by the feelings he saw in the drow's red eyes - an expression that might have seemed cold in the eyes of anyone else, but not in Kimmuriel's.

Artemis felt as if their initial positions had been reversed: Kimmuriel was now the one who was completely lost in an emotional world he had never known before, while the assassin slowly regained some of his calm. Apparently, the psionicist had been entangled in his own web, he had played with things he could not control because they went beyond his intellectual, pragmatic scheming. Artemis almost felt sorry for him. The assassin slowly closed the distance to him, leaving only a small gap between their bodies, never taking his gaze from Kimmuriel's eyes.

"What do you want me to do?" Artemis asked. He truly expected an answer - Kimmuriel certainly hadn't come without a reason - but his voice was surprisingly soft and sympathetic.

"I don't know," the drow replied shyly, and Artemis wondered suddenly how old Kimmuriel was, now that he saw this almost youthful expression on his face. The psionicist was definitely much younger than Jarlaxle, who seemed to be the equivalent of a middle-aged man. Despite his own lack of experience in this domain, Artemis felt suddenly very old, all the more when the drow tried to kiss him in what looked like an act of youthful embarrassment.

The assassin retreated a step and frowned. "Do you think sleeping with me will change anything?" he asked, but Kimmuriel only shrugged.

"No, but it would make us feel better."

Although Artemis had to admit to himself that the drow was probably right about this, he refused to let himself become enslaved to his desires, especially since these desires had got him into considerable trouble during the last days. He sighed and shook his head again, slumping on the only chair in the small room and seeing from the corner of his eye how Kimmuriel sat down on the bed.

They stayed there for a long, nerve-racking time, staring at the walls and brooding. It was Artemis who lost his patience first, incapable of remaining any longer in one room with Kimmuriel without doing or saying anything.

"Are we going to sit here all night?"

"Do you want me to leave?" the drow asked, afraid that the assassin might say yes, but Artemis shook his head, again staring at the wall. "Then come here," Kimmuriel added softly, his voice a promise and a reassurance, and this time the human complied, although hesitantly.

He sat down beside the drow, tensing when Kimmuriel leaned his head against the assassin's shoulder.

"I won't hurt you," Kimmuriel whispered almost pleadingly, but Artemis punished him once again with his unsettling silence. Kimmuriel truly regretted his behaviour days ago, if only because his threats had made the cautious man even more suspicious. Seeing the pained expression in the human's eyes, sensing his fear and uncertainty that reflected his own, the drow felt as if he had cut into his own flesh when he had hurt Artemis.

Kimmuriel was too proud to apologise, but his remorse was clearly visible on his face and Artemis didn't fail to acknowledge it. But the assassin was still unable to forget what had happened - Kimmuriel being sorry about the past was not enough, Artemis had to know that it wouldn't happen again. He studied the drow for a long time: his beautiful face that usually seemed so calm and sadistic, a face that displayed now the same pain and confusion Artemis felt himself. Kimmuriel had been right - this wasn't any easier for him. They had the same problem, and maybe it was time for them to stop reproaching each other with their feelings.

"Will you stay a bit?" Artemis asked suddenly, his voice firmer than before. His invitation surprised him as much as Kimmuriel, but the drow smiled lightly and nodded. Both of them took off their boots and cloaks, and when the human lay back on the bed, Kimmuriel slowly snuggled against him, never taking his eyes from the assassin, silently telling himself again what he had told Entreri - that he wouldn't hurt him. Kimmuriel had no moral principles of any kind, but for reasons he could not understand he had come to the conclusion that hurting the human was wrong. Even worse, it was stupid.

Artemis stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the drow's lustful glances at him. He managed, at least until Kimmuriel began to cover his face with light, tender kisses that reminded the assassin immediately of the one night they had shared. The drow's fingers were amazingly nimble; they virtually danced over the human's body, teasing, promising, eager.

For a few moments, Artemis closed his eyes and allowed Kimmuriel to caress him, but he tensed when the drow lay down on top of him. The assassin looked up and flinched at the confidence in these red eyes, and he decided that the psionicist wouldn't get the upper hand this night.

He pushed Kimmuriel on his back, effortlessly pinning the slender elf to the bed, and whispered, "Not this time."

"Why not?" the drow asked with a frown. "You liked it ... You enjoyed lying under me, letting go, leaving all the decisions to me."

Artemis didn't like this hard, superior expression in the psionicist's eyes, this arrogance even in a situation in which Kimmuriel was just as weak as Artemis. If they were going to continue this, then Kimmuriel would have to learn that he couldn't have his way all the time.

"Then I'm sure you'll enjoy it as well," Artemis promised, his voice grim, but not threatening. He bent down to kiss Kimmuriel while his fingers trailed over the drow's body, but to his surprise his caresses weren't much appreciated. Kimmuriel tried to evade them, considering if he should use his psionic powers to fend the assassin off.

He had already made enough concessions, he could maybe bring himself to accept these strange feelings, but letting a human dominate him in bed, that would be definitely too much! Entreri was probably brutish and careless, and maybe he would use the opportunity to pay him back for the countless threats and insults.

"Stop this, Artemis, please ... or I'll have to make you stop," the drow whispered, wanting to get out of this uncontrollable situation before the human's deft, calloused hands aroused him too much.

The assassin paused and looked at him, not sure how to react, but this little opportunity was enough for the drow, who was, although not strong, quite nimble. He evaded the human's loosened grip and got up almost hectically.

Artemis could hardly believe that Kimmuriel's reaction to every situation he couldn't handle was to run away. He had run away after sleeping with him, obviously shocked by his own lust, and he had run away last time, when he had realised that torturing the human would be no solution either. If it wasn't so absurd, Artemis would say that Kimmuriel was acting like a lovesick, confused youngster.

But Kimmuriel wouldn't get away so easily this time. Artemis darted forward and grabbed the drow's wrist to pull him back onto the bed. Kimmuriel stared daggers at him and tried to break away from the human's grasp, but he paused when he looked into Artemis' eyes: they were calm, reassuring, understanding. Artemis Entreri was no man to force anyone into his bed, least of all the person he loved.

The assassin pulled the now limp drow in his arms, softly kissing him on the forehead. He considered saying something, but words had never been Artemis' strength, so he remained silent. Gradually, Kimmuriel relaxed in his arms and snuggled against his chest, all his lust replaced by the desire to lie in this embrace and feel the heat of the human's body.

He looked up after a while, wondering what Artemis expected now - what he himself wanted now. The assassin seemed to be embarrassed, and he opened his mouth several times to speak until he finally mumbled, "We don't need to do this. Just stay with me."

Artemis had no idea if this was the right thing to say in such a situation - how he hated being so helpless and inexperienced - but it worked apparently, for Kimmuriel nodded and nestled again to him, trying to get more comfortable when the assassin lay back.

A week ago, none of them would have been able to close an eye with the other one being in the same room, but after what they had gone through, the fear of getting stabbed in their sleep was the least of their problems. They were far from trusting each other - actually, they were almost more distrustful than ever - but they knew that if they would kill each other, they wouldn't do it this way. Kimmuriel fell asleep first, and even though Artemis wanted to use the opportunity and enjoy the sight of the beautiful drow, he didn't manage to remain awake for long.

The assassin woke up in the middle of the night when Kimmuriel stirred in his arms and got up, trying to leave unnoticed - which was impossible when lying in one bed with a light sleeper like Entreri. He frowned and sat up, then whispered, "Where are you going?"

The drow winced when he heard the assassin's voice, but he quickly regained his composure and said in his usual calm tone, "I have a mercenary band to lead, as you know. I've an important meeting with a Matron Mother tonight, and you can imagine that it would be a bad idea to keep her waiting."

He seemed honest enough, and Artemis accepted that 'staying a bit' didn't mean 'staying the whole night'. The assassin nodded slightly, realising that every objection would be futile and somehow ridiculous. He watched Kimmuriel dress completely, and he smiled when the psionicist turned around a last time.

"Do you still think this is ... hopeless?" the drow asked quietly, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. If he had understood it correctly, then he didn't want their situation to be hopeless.

"We managed to spend a whole evening together without you threatening to kill, rape or torture me," Artemis said, his voice somehow pained, but not aggressive. "I suppose that is already an improvement."

Kimmuriel looked as if he wanted to reply something, but he was at a loss for words after this unusual answer. Instead of stuttering something incomprehensible, he leaned forward and kissed Artemis slowly, savouring the human's taste and the nimbleness of his lips when the kiss was returned. It felt good, it felt so simple when they weren't talking or thinking.

He had left the room only a few seconds after their lips had parted.