Eldoth fell on his bed, snoring before he even hit the sheets. Maybe when he sobers up, he decided, things shall make some more sense.

:::

Shar-Teel was not about to have anyone dictate her actions, but she was not going to have her throat slit, either. By foes or allies. She made sure no one saw her sneaking out of her room and into Xzar's, where she rolled the insane, restrained Zhent under the bed and made herself comfortable. In her own room, a bundle of dirty clothes under the blankets made for quite a convincing shape of a sleeping warrioress.

:::

From the rooms of Jade and Dorn came no sound. From the bedroom occupied by Baeloth came a light, happy humming. The shapeshifting interlude was interesting, but should not distract from the main Show. Baeloth could always sense a show in the making, and right now he'd have to be blind, deaf and dead as well not to see the one unfolding under his very nose. Actually, he'd recognise it even if he were dead. "Will They Or Won't They?" was just so classic.

And a good showman knows exactly how to play around with classics.

He washed off the few results of the scuffle, combed his hair and generally made sure his appearance was impeccable, again. He gave due consideration to his clothing, turned to the door, again... and cursed.

The damn half-breed oaf was still there! He hadn't yet mustered the courage to actually go to Jade's bedroom, but he was there in the common, by the fireplace. Didn't even go wash his hands! Baeloth could hear him. He cursed once more, not because Dorn's presence was any particular difficulty, but because he'd put so much effort in his appearance, and now he'd have to make himself invisible, or something. Where was the style in that?

Then he remembered a scroll tucked away in his case, a scroll he didn't really know what to do with. Wraithform. White teeth gleamed between the dark lips like a particularily vicious crescent moon.

:::

Dorn watched the flames morosely, noticing how quickly they consumed the wood. They were powerful, they were hot, but they flickered mindlessly, absolutely dependent on their fuel which would, sooner or later, run out. He thought of hell, of the abyss, and of his own thirst for vengeance. If only the flames had some other source to feed off.

He felt a chill, a gust of cold air passing over his bare back and chest. For a moment - a tiniest moment he'd never admit to - he felt almost... ashamed. Wondering what the hell was he doing, scheming and planning and exposing himself for her attention like an overheated pubescent brat. Then came the memory of her parted lips, her pale skin, and the way she did not entirely conceal her amusement when talking to him. The way her eyes gleamed sometimes, as if she saw something amusing that only she could understand. He ached to wipe that smirk off her porcelain face. Dorn stood up, purposefully, just as another chilly breeze made the flames flicker.

:::

Jade was half-laying in bed, with candles on all sides throwing light on the papers in her hand. She seemed tired, bewildered and, alone in the dark room, much smaller and much more helpless. Afraid, even. He wondered what could she be afraid of.
He stood there for a moment, just watching her so bare, so frail, so vulnerable. For a moment he thought of a shapeshifter, a familiar face hiding a murderous beast, ready to strike. Correction - a familiar face hiding an unfamiliar murderous beast. Still, it would have been the easiest thing in the world...

And then, "I know you're there, you know" she said, without raising her head.

"You do?"

"Of course. There was a cold draught as you passed through the door, and the candle flames flicker where you're eclipsing them." Now she raised her head and looked right at him, where she knew his eyes would be. Despite himself, Baeloth smiled, and sat on the bed by her feet, dismissing the spell. "Are you still poring over those papers?"

"Yes. I could see what was going on, up to a point. The Throne found a new source of iron, and set about to eliminate all other sources, while at the same time making sure there would be adequate demand for it. It makes sense so far."

"If your idea of 'sense' is squabbling for silver and a rat-ridden city," he said, taking her feet in his hands.

"But then the son double crosses him," she went on, pretending to ignore him. "And quite efficiently butts in, getting rid of his father. He could just be impatient to inherit, but he destroyed the inherittance in the process!" She lay back, enjoying his touch on her legs, pretending not to notice that he was making his way higher up. He just smiled his half-moon smile and shifted his weight to kneel on the bed between her feet. "What is this all about? He can't hope to get money out of this, not anymore" she went on, half-closing her eyes. He slid his palms between her thighs and massaged the warm muscles. "And what about me? There is obviously something personal going on here, but what? Where do I fit in?"

This was a much too obvious cue for him to ignore. He flashed her a predatory grin, parting her thighs gently.

"I have no idea, Jade. But I do know where do I fit in" he said, leaning forward. Until he felt a thin blade under his chin.

"Not so fast. First, prove to me who you are."

He laughed a quick, dazzling laugh. "You really must be loving this. All right, let me see now... Do you remember? We sat in the grass while the boys had fun annihilating the ankhegs, and you put your legs up on a log. Funny, I was thinking, then, of the same thing I'm thinking of now."

She lay back and closed her eyes again. "Which is?"

"How much I'd like to run my tongue right... here..."

He expected her to keep silent. After all, she was a rogue, silence was her element. But she moaned under his tongue like only a woman desperate for pleasure can moan. Nevertheless, his keen drow ear heard the tiniest creak as a door was opened, slowly and carefully, but by someone not used to stealth.

Baeloth raised his head just enough for his cheeky, satisfied smirk to be visible above Jade's quivering body. Stroking her thighs, teasing her with his fingers, he looked straight into Dorn's eyes. The shock, the humiliation, the defeat - they were all there and he savoured them. Only for a split second, but they were there, before they turned to murder.

Too bad Baeloth was only ever afraid of boredom.