Chapter Six
When Jarlaxle entered the main room of the tavern early in the next morning, he found Artemis already sitting at a table in a corner. The sight surprised him slightly, but in a positive way - the assassin usually got up very early, but during the last weeks he had slept so uneasily that he had been tired in the morning, and Jarlaxle had had to wake him up more than once. To see Artemis once again well rested and calm at such an early hour delighted Jarlaxle much.
His joy increased when he sat down at the table and got a better look at the assassin's face. Artemis would still appear angry and annoyed to a stranger, but to Jarlaxle the human looked almost cheerful. For a second, the drow nearly saw the hint of a smile, but he dismissed that absurd thought immediately.
"Good morning, Artemis," Jarlaxle said, wrinkling his nose when the sharp smell of the assassin's coffee assaulted his keen senses. Jarlaxle actually liked this drink he had first tasted in Calimport, but he liked it with much milk and sugar. What Artemis was drinking was so bitter that Jarlaxle wondered how any living being could swallow it without coughing and choking. "Have you slept well?"
"I have," Artemis answered calmly, and Jarlaxle almost dropped the cup the barmaid had just brought him. The human usually didn't answer to this question, he just ignored it or scowled as if he was offended that Jarlaxle would waste his time with such a banality. Jarlaxle eyed his friend suspiciously, wondering where the assassin's sudden good humour came from.
Could it be that Artemis was finally getting over his feelings for Kimmuriel? Jarlaxle's heart started to beat a bit faster when he envisioned this possibility - what if Artemis was really starting to forget the psionicist? The idea that Kimmuriel had been here last night and that this was the reason for Artemis' good humour was, to Jarlaxle, so absurd that it didn't even enter his mind. After all, Kimmuriel had made his friend only feel miserable so far.
The assassin leaned back in his chair, apparently relaxed, but once again perfectly alert while he sipped at the steaming coffee.
"Why, that's wonderful! I am glad that you're feeling so well today. It's good to know that you're finally getting over this ... unhealthy obsession, like you got over your obsession with Drizzt," the drow said, not realising that his words probably didn't make sense to anyone but himself.
Artemis put his cup back on the table and leaned forward, the usual scowl returning to his face when he stared at Jarlaxle.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, irritated and confused. Was Jarlaxle really comparing Artemis' feelings for Kimmuriel to his hatred for Drizzt? He should know that Artemis felt offended by every mention of his former nemesis!
"Well, I'm talking about Kimmuriel, of course," Jarlaxle explained, equally confused that Artemis didn't catch on. "You deserve someone better than him, and you know that, and apparently you finally manage to do what is reasonable."
"Are you drunk, Jarlaxle?" Artemis growled, perfectly serious. Even considering that it came out of Jarlaxle's mouth, this was complete nonsense. Had Jarlaxle not been the one who had doubted of his words when Artemis had told him that he wanted to get over Kimmuriel, several days ago? And now, for some reason, he suddenly expected Artemis to do exactly that - get over the psionicist. The drow had to be drunk, or he had lost the last remaining shreds of his sanity.
"No!" Jarlaxle retorted with exaggerated indignation. "I am -"
"You are probably 'someone better', isn't that what you wanted to say?" the assassin hissed angrily. He was growing tired of Jarlaxle's advances, especially now, after the wonderful evening he had spent with Kimmuriel.
"I don't want to talk about this here," Artemis quickly added, remembering where they were.
"There's nobody here, Artemis," Jarlaxle objected, and true enough, the room was empty at this early hour, and even the girl who had brought them their breakfast had returned to the kitchen. "What I meant to say is that -"
"I know what you meant to say," Artemis cut him short again and got up. He laid several coins on the table, before he grabbed his pack and cloak. "And I've already answered to it more than once. Can we leave now?"
He didn't wait for Jarlaxle, but left the tavern immediately. The drow sighed deeply and stared at the table, taken aback by his friend's abrupt outburst. Artemis hadn't talked to him like this for days - they had been so close to each other, and Jarlaxle certainly hadn't been prepared for this aggressiveness when he had seen his friend so relaxed this morning. With another sigh, wondering if he would ever understand what was going on in Artemis Entreri's head, the drow stood up and followed his friend.
The next two days passed in an uncomfortable silence while they continued their journey. Jarlaxle was afraid to anger his friend again, and Artemis was alternately lost in obviously rather pleasant thoughts and then busy scowling at the drow or everybody they saw on the road. The fact that Kimmuriel didn't come to him in the evening made him even grumpier on the second day, on which they once again hardly talked during their meal in another tavern near the road.
The assassin went again up to his room before the drow got the chance to start a serious conversation. Although he had come to see a trusted friend in Jarlaxle, he didn't want to talk to him right now. The drow could be so annoying, and he always provoked Artemis to say things he regretted afterwards. Artemis was again feeling uncomfortable in the presence of his companion who cared so much for him and whom he hurt constantly without even wanting it. He was sorry for snapping at his friend on the previous morning, and he couldn't bear the tense silence between them. Someone else might have simply apologised, but Artemis Entreri decided to 'solve' the problem by avoiding Jarlaxle as much as possible.
The assassin hoped that Kimmuriel would pay him a visit this night, but just as on the previous evening he waited in vain for the drow. Disappointed, he finally went to bed and fell asleep rather quickly.
Soft fingers on his cheek awakened him a bit later, and Artemis abruptly sat up, but he relaxed when he recognised the drow who sat on the edge of his bed. It was still night, but the room wasn't entirely dark and the shade's lifeforce allowed the human to see quite well in the dim light.
He whispered the drow's name and pulled Kimmuriel in his arms, kissing him on the silky hair. The drow snuggled against him, showing a need for intimacy and tenderness that surprised Artemis once again. Kimmuriel caressed the human's bare chest almost reverently, enjoying being so close to such a desirable body.
"I had too much to do to come earlier," the drow whispered in his ear, and Artemis could only stare at him, speechless. Had the proud psionicist really justified his absence of the previous day, had he insinuated that he had wanted to come earlier? The assassin kissed Kimmuriel again, this time on the lips, while he settled on his back, the drow lying in his arms. If Kimmuriel was really playing with him, then Artemis enjoyed the game, too, for the moment. He closed his eyes for a second, inhaling the drow's barely perceivable but quite alluring scent, his skin prickling pleasantly under those skilled fingers.
"I'll let you sleep, don't worry," Kimmuriel promised, suspending the caresses, but Artemis had no intention to sleep now. His desire for the drow might be less fierce than a week ago, but he still wanted him. More than that, he wanted Kimmuriel underneath him - he had always been a quite demanding lover, and only his insecurity when being with Kimmuriel had held him back until now. He kissed the drow almost violently, and after a short moment of surprise, Kimmuriel returned the kiss gladly.
"I know what you want," Kimmuriel whispered when their lips parted, but he didn't sound angry.
"How can you presume to know what I want?" Artemis growled, suspicious - if Kimmuriel really knew, he would be trying to run again, wouldn't he?
"I can read your thoughts, remember?" the drow replied with a smirk, but before the assassin could answer, he continued, "You want to enjoy your time with me, you want me to pleasure you ..." Kimmuriel's fingers brushed over Artemis' groin, eliciting a hardly suppressed moan. "So why don't you just give in to me? It's only your pride that interferes with our pleasure, not your desires ..."
It took Artemis all of his self-control to push the drow simply away instead of slapping him. "My pride?" he hissed, his lust quickly giving way to his anger. "If I remember correctly, you were the one to panic because you couldn't relinquish control."
"Where is the problem? If we can have fun with each other without bringing me in a position I hate, why don't we?"
"Do you think I hated this position any less than you?" Artemis growled, remembering too well the painful memories that had assaulted him when he had lain under Kimmuriel. "And this has become about more than only fun for both of us. You expect me to trust you, but you're unable to believe that I won't hurt you."
While he spoke these words, Artemis realised himself why this was so important to him - not only because it had always been more to his liking to be the dominant one in bed, but because he wanted some sign of trust from Kimmuriel, some proof that the drow was not using him as a toy.
"Don't insist, Artemis, if you want me to stay," Kimmuriel answered while he sat up. The tender expression on his features had turned back into his well-known calm mask, but his jaw was clenched in barely retained anger, all of it hiding his pain. Why did Artemis not understand? He was scared, scared of letting go, scared of not being in control, scared of being with the assassin as much as of being without him. Kimmuriel was unable to explain any of this, and he wished desperately that Artemis would simply understand and respect his fears.
"I will not allow some human to take me like a common whore." The words left Kimmuriel's mouth before he even thought about them, and he winced under the insult as if it had been directed at him.
There was a seemingly endless silence between them. They just stared at each other, Kimmuriel's eyes wide while he realised that he had finally gone too far. He wasn't sure if the assassin was going to direct his anger at him and try to kill him, or if he would simply break down, but the pain and disappointment in Artemis' eyes made Kimmuriel cringe. He tried to think of something to say, searching for the right words to apologise, to alleviate the sting of his insult. Artemis didn't give him enough time to do so.
"So that's what I am still to you. 'Some human'. I suppose you also thought of me as a common whore a week ago." Artemis' voice was barely more than a whisper, his face a blank mask that seemed strangely unreal to Kimmuriel. The whole situation seemed unreal to the drow, slipped out of his control, and he felt like a helpless onlooker, unable to do anything that would stop what was happening.
"Get out of here," Artemis said, slowly standing up and running a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that contradicted his calm facial expression.
"Is that all you have to say?" Kimmuriel asked almost inaudibly. If Artemis only shouted at him, if he got angry, if he attacked him - Kimmuriel could deal with that. He could not deal with the numb pain he saw in Artemis' eyes, and he felt as if he had broken something very precious in his carelessness. He received no answer except for this unnerving, weary stare out of steel-grey eyes.
"Artemis, I -" Kimmuriel started, but he fell silent when the assassin shook his head.
"Don't. I don't want to hear it, I'm tired of your excuses. Now go."
Artemis voice became steadier and colder with every word, it sliced slowly through Kimmuriel, teaching him a completely new meaning of the word pain. The drow did not know what to do, he only knew that he couldn't bear Artemis' reproachful gaze on him any longer, and so he finally stood up and conjured his gate, barely able to concentrate enough to do it. He looked a last time at Artemis before he stepped through the gate, but the assassin had already turned his back to him.
The human stood in the middle of his small room for several seconds until he sank again on the bed, burying his face in the soft pillows. In this moment, Artemis wanted nothing more than to cry. He had cried very rarely since he had run away from his father as a little boy, but on the few occasions when he had cried, it had felt so ... liberating. Yet he was unable to cry now, and his body was shaken by silent, dry sobs.
Artemis did not know what he should think of this, of Kimmuriel's words. Had the drow truly meant them, and had his tender displays of affection only been faked? Or had he said them in another try to pretend hatred? But why should he? Why was Kimmuriel unable to give what Artemis had given him, why was he unable to show even the slightest sign of trust?
It didn't matter. Kimmuriel had gone too far this time, and Artemis was done lying to himself and clinging to foolish hopes. If Kimmuriel didn't want this, fine, then it had to be over. Gathering his self-discipline, telling himself that he had always been able to suppress his feelings, the assassin managed to calm down gradually. He turned around and stared at the ceiling, slowly gliding into some kind of meditation he had used often in his life to regain control over his fears and feelings.
His meditation was disturbed some time later when he heard the sound of hard boots and jingling jewellery. Apparently it wasn't that late if Jarlaxle went only now up to his room. Hesitating for no more than a second, the assassin got up and moved to the door, quickly disarming the traps and unlocking it. When he opened the door, Jarlaxle stopped and turned around, looking at his friend.
"Artemis ... is there anything I can do for you?" the drow asked in a soft voice, unsettled by Artemis' volatile behaviour of the last two days. The assassin didn't answer, but beckoned Jarlaxle to come him, closing the door once the drow had entered his room.
Jarlaxle furrowed his brow slightly when he noticed that there was no candle or oil lamp lit in the room, and he looked again at him questioningly. Artemis averted his eyes, sighed, looked up again and said quietly, "I wanted to apologise."
"Apologise?" Jarlaxle echoed. He tried to remember if he had ever seen Artemis Entreri apologising to anyone. "For what?"
"Everything," the assassin answered reluctantly, unable or unwilling to list his errors in detail. "I am sorry."
A smile, beaming even by Jarlaxle's standards, lit up on the drow's features, although he eyed his friend suspiciously. There had to be a reason for Artemis' sudden change of mind.
"What has happened?" he asked, closing the distance to the assassin to look him in the eyes.
"Let's just say that Kimmuriel made me realise that you were right with what you said about him," Artemis explained in a strained voice, his tone making it clear that he did not want to - and would not - go into details. Neither of them moved for a while until Jarlaxle nodded and smiled again. Maybe Artemis would talk about it later, once he had got over the latest events.
"Have a seat," Artemis said suddenly. Jarlaxle looked around and wondered if Artemis was aware of the fact that there was no chair in the tiny room. Shrugging, the drow sat down on the edge of the bed, taking off his hat and eye-patch. He always did this now when they were alone, knowing that Artemis liked to see both of his eyes.
The human studied his friend thoughtfully. Jarlaxle was very handsome, in his own extravagant way, but that wasn't what struck Artemis so much in this moment. It was the caring, almost loving expression in the drow's red eyes, eyes that could be so beautiful when they were as kind as now. Eyes that seemed more honest than Kimmuriel's had looked even in the most intimate moments. When Artemis had been with Kimmuriel, he had always expected betrayal, he had always suspected that the tenderness would soon be replaced by cruelty. But with Jarlaxle, he had no such fears. Jarlaxle cared for him, and he showed it. Jarlaxle deserved his love so much more than Kimmuriel. If Artemis had to love someone, could he not simply love Jarlaxle? Should he not at least try to love him? It would certainly be easier to forget Kimmuriel if he weren't alone anymore ...
"What are you thinking? Is my beauty making you speechless?" the drow asked with a grin, never being someone for long silences. Artemis smirked slightly while he sat down on the bed - if Jarlaxle only knew.
Artemis moved closer to the drow, tenderly stroking his cheek before he tried to kiss him, but Jarlaxle turned his head aside and whispered seriously, "Don't tease me." He didn't understand why his friend was playing with him like this - he hadn't done anything wrong that would justify such cruelty.
"I'm not teasing you," the assassin mumbled, and his voice sent a shudder through Jarlaxle's body. But the drow contained himself - he found it very insulting if someone dared to think of anybody else while sleeping with him even if he didn't care about said person, but to imagine Artemis lying in his arms and thinking of Kimmuriel was definitely too much.
"Are you doing this because you want me or because you can't have him?" Jarlaxle whispered and looked Artemis again in the eyes, knowing that he would notice it if his friend lied to him.
"I don't want him anymore ... I don't want what he can give me ..." Artemis replied, and although Jarlaxle doubted that this was true, he could see that his companion really believed it at this moment. Jarlaxle hesitated - should he do this, and risk that Artemis might turn away from him soon enough if Kimmuriel claimed him again? Should he take advantage of his friend's loneliness and disappointment?
Jarlaxle scolded himself quietly for these thoughts only a second later. Artemis was no innocent boy who didn't know what he was doing, he was no victim that would allow himself to be used by anyone. And even more important, Artemis needed this now, he needed closeness. How could Jarlaxle reject his friend and hurt him by denying him what he needed most? No, that would be irresponsible, Jarlaxle decided, and it would be stupid to miss this unique chance to get what he desired so much.
He felt Artemis' fingers stroking his cheek and neck, then touching the smooth scalp, as if they wanted to reassure Jarlaxle that Artemis was not forgetting who lay in his arms. The drow turned his head again and kissed Artemis, slowly at first, then more passionately. He dug his fingers into the human's forearm when Artemis closed his eyes, and the assassin understood his friend's concern, quickly opening them again.
When Artemis started to unbutton Jarlaxle's vest, his fingers shivered slightly, and the drow realised that his friend was much less confident about this than he had appeared to be. Deciding that Artemis just needed more encouragement, Jarlaxle began to nibble at the skin of the human's throat, a bit more roughly than he would do normally, feeling the need to leave a mark on the pale skin as if to claim the human as his.
Feeling Artemis' fingers at the buttons of his breeches, he released the reddened skin and helped the human to get rid of both their clothes. Artemis pushed the drow determinedly on his back and kissed him again, before he drew back to have a closer look at his companion. Jarlaxle was slender and graceful, but the muscles under the black skin were taut and honed. The assassin could feel the strength in this lean body every time the drow rubbed against him, demanding more physical contact.
Jarlaxle enjoyed Artemis' gaze on his body, but he didn't like it that the assassin had stopped touching him to look at him. He placed a teasing kiss on the corner of Artemis' mouth, while his right hand sneaked between the human's legs. Artemis rewarded him with a deep, husky moan that ranged probably among the most arousing things Jarlaxle had ever heard.
"My, Artemis, I didn't know you could make such beautiful sounds," he chuckled, amused when Artemis tried unsuccessfully to scowl.
"Do you have to talk all the time?" the assassin growled, kissing the drow again to silence him, but Jarlaxle resumed talking as soon as his lips were free again.
"Absolutely! I can do amazing things with my tongue, and talking is the one I enjoy most," he explained with a playfully innocent smile.
Artemis furrowed his brow and stared at his friend, trying to remain calm despite the slender fingers that danced over his thighs. "Show me the others," he said finally, his voice low as if he was ashamed of his words.
"Later, my eager friend," Jarlaxle teased and wriggled out of Artemis' embrace, ignoring the reproachful groan the assassin gave. Artemis' eyes widened in disbelief when Jarlaxle grabbed his hat, reached into it - deeper than it should have been possible - and finally pulled out a small vial filled with oil or a similar liquid. The assassin had known that there was a bag of holding in Jarlaxle's hat and that the mercenary stored several things in it, but that?
"What? I like to be prepared for every contingency," the drow said innocently and grinned at Artemis, handing him the vial. "Go ahead, don't look at me as if you didn't know what to do with a vial of oil and a willing drow in your bed."
"If you're already 'prepared for every contingency', then there's no need for me to prepare you," Artemis said with a provocative grin, earning a scowl from Jarlaxle, although the drow had to keep himself from beaming with joy at his success in distracting his friend.
"Don't even think about it!" Jarlaxle grumbled, putting on an appalled expression that disappeared quickly enough under several tender, reassuring kisses from his companion. Jarlaxle shot Artemis another smile, more inviting and sensual than the previous ones, and turned around, making himself comfortable and looking forward to a very pleasurable night.