"He's a big lad, and big lads are slow."

Jade could remember hearing this, such a long time ago, when she first learned to fight. One guard in the Candlekeep regiment had been smaller than the others, weaker than the others, and so he had to be smarter and faster to make up for it. She had been fascinated by the way he won tavern fights, and she always remembered all his good advice.

But he had obviously never seen the fury of Dorn Il-Khan.

One moment, she was moaning under Baeloth's expert caress, and the next she had to drop down and roll as the huge half-orc cannoned into the lithe elf. Baeloth tried to dodge, but he was no acrobat - relying on magic has its price. One powerful hand grabbed his throat, the other slammed him bodily into the wall, and all the time a low growling coming from Dorn's lips promised an agonising death.

Yet Baeloth fought. A spark of light flashed in his palm and the smell of burning hair filled the air as Dorn grunted and his arm shot back on instinct. Baeloth twisted in his grip like an eel, singeing him a few more times before shooting off a bigger spell. Dorn shivered and froze.

"Really, master Il-Khan," the drow began, smiling into Dorn's apparently paralysed face. "Is this how a man behaves? Is this, really, the best you can think of? I beat you to the beauty's bed, so now you will just smash in my skull?" Baeloth half turned, as if appealing to Jade's reason. "Honestly, you riv-"

Dorn moved like lightning, grabbing the drow's arm. "Not all of your spells work, little black boy," he growled, with a nasty little grin. And this time Baeloth was really terrified - Jade could see it in his eyes, the terror of a man who thought himself mentally unrivaled, and who now sees he was quite easily tricked...

She opened her mouth to intervene, but before she could say anything, Dorn made a small move, his both arms shifting just a bit. That was what was so horrible, she later said, the most horrible thing of all - that he barely even moved his hands.
The sickening crack as the drow's arm broke made her nauseous. As she gaped on, too stunned to react, she was conscious on some level that Baeloth didn't even scream, not with pain anyway. He just looked at the arm now hanging limply, and said, "My arm!" in the same way people say "My dress!" when someone spills something.

"You broke it, you stupid oaf! Why did you do that?"

"I intend to break every bone in your body, and I have to start somewhere," said Dorn levelly.

"Oh, for the love of- fine. You know what? Go ahead. Be my guest. By all means, try to entertain the lady, and see how far you get. I'm out of here." And he vanished.

A soft shimmering in the light told Jade he made himself invisible. The door opened, and then shut, banging on the frame with vigour. She turned to face the half-orc, still panting with contained fury.

"You didn't have to do that," she said.

"Didn't I?"

"No. And it's none of your business what I do in my bed, and with whom."

"It's very much my business," he growled.

"And why, exactly, would it be?"

"Because I said it is." He strode towards her and Jade shifted her grip on the small blades in her sleeves. "I'm done with these games. I don't care if it amuses you to have him dance around you, but I will not be humiliated by him. Or upstaged."

They were on the opposite sides of the bed, but now Dorn reached out and just pulled her over by her shoulders. She considered stabbing his palms...

"...And he will not have what's mine," he growled. One hand grabbing the back of her neck, the other squeezing her buttocks, he picked her up like a doll and bit into her lips. There was no other word for it, not with these fangs, which drew just a little blood from her mouth. The feeling was intoxicating, but even so, Jade couldn't let herself be treated like that.

"I'm not 'yours,' no matter what you imagine. Get off me right now" she hissed.

"Or what?"

The glint of steel was strangely warm in the candle light as her hands moved, so fast they were only a blur. Two daggers were crossed below his throat, ready to slice from both sides, and in their polished surface Jade saw her own eyes, which were not as hard and steely as she would like them to be.

But Dorn only laughed. "Very bad strategy, Jade. I didn't expect it from you," he said, grinning like a particularly nasty predator... which he was, more or less. And then he simply let go.

Jade fell down heavily on the bed, her knives pulled safely away from his throat. She tried throwing them, but it had all happened so fast... how could she forget his hands were the only thing holding her up? Was her face, now, as terrified as Baeloth's was just a moment ago?

The daggers flew towards Dorn's head but he had been expecting that and just moved out of the way. Even so, one blade nicked his cheek, leaving a red line.

He smiled. And as Jade tried to get to her feet, he grabbed her shins and dragged her back onto the bed, onto her back. Looking into her eyes, he saw fear, but not just fear. He was sure it was not just fear. Yes. Sure.

"You will have to be content with that little victory tonight," he said, as he held her wrists back.

:::

When Dorn finally finished with her, her whole body was aching, and a few bruises were coming up where he slapped her. She got to her feet, or at least to her knees, wincing at every move, and groped around for a healing potion. At least she had the satisfaction of seeing him utterly spent and completely out of breath, too.

"Are you happy now?" she barked, before taking the cork out with her teeth.

Dorn stood up, a mountain of muscle, not in the slightest less terrifying because he was naked. "Don't play the innocent victim, Jade. I know this is what you wanted to happen. That's why you played the drow against me. You wanted to provoke me."

"Did I?" The healing potion worked. She stood up to be level with him, at least symbolically. "'She asked for it' in fact?"

"You did."

She looked into his eyes, black and steady. But there was something in them, something she knew from her own experience. As if the steadiness was due to conscious control. And behind that control... uncertainty. Uncertainty of what one has done, of what one has become...

She laughed, throwing her head back, and watched peace pour over the blackness. Then she embraced him. He blinked in slight shock, but embraced her back, gingerly. "It was a bit too rough for me, but not much. I'd like you to work on that in the future. But I enjoyed every second of it," she said.

"I knew you would." He placed a small kiss on her forehead and left the room, completely unconcerned by his nakedness, like a particularly smug tomcat.

Jade sat on the bed and gave an exasperated sigh, then lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes, massaging her aching thighs.

"Well," said a voice.

She jumped up, hands already reaching for a weapon. But she knew that voice. Only one person in the whole world could put so much derision and amusement into one syllable.

"He's a smug bastard, isn't he?" said Baeloth, appearing on his first-row seat on the dresser. "And you're a sick, sick bitch, Jade of Candlekeep."