Forgotten Realms 1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the places in this story belong to me; and I don't make any money with this.

A/N: This story is set after Servant of the Shard and That Curious Sword, but it excludes Salvatore's other short stories about Artemis and Jarlaxle as well as Promise of the Witch-King and Road of the Patriarch. It is not a sequel to my first Kimmuriel/Artemis-story, Embarrassing Thoughts.  
Thanks to Chi for beta-reading. :)

* * *

**Chapter One**

Kimmuriel Oblodra stretched and lay back on his bed, comfortably sprawling on the soft sheets. He felt relatively safe in his private rooms in the Bregan D'aerthe head quarters, and thus the psionicist allowed himself to relax completely. Normally, he loathed such idleness, but he had barely found any rest over the last days, and a long bath and massage had done him good. A rare smile made it to his cold, smooth features when he thought of the last days - Bregan D'aerthe had been hired by the Eleventh House, which was currently led by an impressively intelligent and ambitious priestess, and their attack on the Ninth House had been simply perfect. Bregan D'aerthe and Kimmuriel's sly planning had played no small part in this victory.

The psionicist didn't enjoy his position as much as Jarlaxle had, but he was nonetheless pleased with his success. But thinking of the stress and pressure of the last weeks, of the countless negotiations with priestesses and wizards, of the many meetings with the Bregan D'aerthe lieutenants that had left him virtually no time for any more intellectual problems, Kimmuriel found once again that he longed for Jarlaxle's return.

He sighed deeply and shook his head. Kimmuriel knew his worth and strong points - he was highly intelligent, cunning, accurate, he understood Menzoberranzan's intrigues nearly as well as Jarlaxle himself. But he also knew that he lacked Jarlaxle's charisma and his way to deal with others, mostly with Matron Mothers. And while Kimmuriel had often scoffed at his leader's charm and wit, he knew that these qualities played an important part in Jarlaxle's - and Bregan D'aerthe's - success. Kimmuriel had learnt very fast how difficult it was to control a band of freethinking rogues, how exhausting it was to deal with volatile Matrons. While Jarlaxle had virtually danced around them, always smiling and charming them, Kimmuriel often felt as if he was out of his element.

The loss of the two most prominent lieutenants besides himself didn't make his situation easier. Berg'inyon's ties to House Baenre had been very useful, and the young fighter had been rather liked by the soldiers - as far as drow liked anyone. But Kimmuriel particularly missed Rai-guy's intelligence and ambition, his good ideas, his power. And, as he had to admit to himself, he missed Rai-guy himself.

Kimmuriel rarely allowed himself to let his mind wander in this way, to let his deeply buried and perfectly controlled emotions creep to the surface, but he was too tired to chase them away. He had not _loved_ Rai-guy - he was above such stupid and pathetic feelings -, but he had enjoyed the wizard's company. He had grown used to - and fond of - their conversations, their nightly meetings, their teamwork. He had appreciated Rai-guy's intelligence - after all, there were few who didn't bore the intellectual psionicist. And while he didn't miss him the way a human might miss a lost friend or lover, he regretted the loss of a reliable partner and of his pleasant companionship.

The psionicist smiled a bit - it reassured him to dissect his feelings like this, because it showed him that he did indeed control them, that there was not the slightest weakness in him. He did this regularly, he checked himself for any flaw to eliminate it thoroughly. He knew that every emotion was a weakness - the blind pride of the Weapon Masters, the violent temper of the priestesses, Jarlaxle's whims - and he wouldn't tolerate any of this in himself. Nonetheless, he realised that he felt somehow ... alone. With Jarlaxle on the surface and Rai-guy dead, there was no one left to keep him company. For whatever reason, this bothered him.

He closed his eyes, determined to find some rest in reverie, but his mind was still too active, and so Kimmuriel opened them again and stared at the ceiling. Jarlaxle's whims, yes. Like staying on the surface to find some adventures, travelling with a grumpy, cynical human.

Kimmuriel thought of his last meeting with Jarlaxle and Artemis Entreri, the human assassin and Jarlaxle's partner, several days ago. They met regularly, as Jarlaxle wanted to be informed about everything that happened in Menzoberranzan. He couldn't break his ties to the city and his band of mercenaries if he wanted to return one day, and Kimmuriel - who wanted this return more than he would ever admit - informed him thoroughly, always trying to intrigue Jarlaxle with the current events. But until now, nothing had fascinated the mercenary leader enough to make him leave the surface.

Suddenly, Kimmuriel remembered something rather odd about this last meeting. Entreri had been with Jarlaxle, as always, but while the human normally just stared at him in complete hatred, there had been another expression in his grey eyes this day. The psionicist had noticed this strange glare, the rare flaw in Entreri's discipline, and had risked a glimpse at his thoughts, surprised at how easily he could overcome the usually perfect mental defences of the strong-willed man.

The human's thoughts had been so confused and disturbed that Kimmuriel had hardly discerned anything, but for a split second he had seen lust. Lust. Artemis Entreri having lustful thoughts while looking at him, Kimmuriel.

The psionicist sat up as he realised this. Jarlaxle's unending questions had drawn off his attention then, and the turbulent events of the last days hadn't left him enough time to ponder about these strange feelings he had detected in the assassin's mind. He had believed Artemis Entreri to be above such weakness - actually, it was the only thing he really respected about him: his complete control over the feelings humans normally succumbed to.

It was no understatement to say that Kimmuriel and Artemis Entreri hated each other with singular intensity. Kimmuriel despised humans in general, and that Entreri proved all his prejudices wrong by being as intelligent, skilled, quick, devious as any drow amplified his hatred. Entreri just didn't fit into Kimmuriel's world view, and the psionicist couldn't bear this. He had humiliated and insulted the human so often that his mere sight seemed to make the assassin mad with anger. Kimmuriel had lost count of the situations that had nearly led to a fight between them. Had it not been for Jarlaxle, he probably would have killed the human already.

And now this. Artemis Entreri desiring him. The psionicist knew he was handsome, but he hadn't expected Entreri to have an eye for this. Nor could he return such feelings. Kimmuriel genuinely preferred males to females, unlike many drow males who only turned to their own gender because sleeping with females generally was humiliating and painful. But a human? It was disgusting.

Wasn't it? For a moment, Kimmuriel hated his analytic, systematic mind that wouldn't allow him to dismiss the idea of desiring a human without thinking it through. Kimmuriel closed his eyes and brought Entreri's image back to his mind, along with the words Jarlaxle had uttered once, "He's rather handsome for a human." Yes, compared to most humans, Entreri probably was attractive: slender, not too tall, with fine, striking features and calm, dark eyes.

The drow opened his eyes again when a sudden inspiration came upon him: wasn't this weakness Entreri had revealed a beautiful opportunity to humiliate him in a completely different way? Kimmuriel had never had any sexual interest in a human, but the prospect of defeating the assassin in a different manner than in battle - something Jarlaxle wouldn't allow - changed the psionicist's point of view quite a bit. The idea of playing with the human's desires intrigued him, and even though he had never expected to find anything appealing in Entreri, the prospect of teasing him just to let him drop in the next moment made Kimmuriel see the assassin from a different angle.

The whole idea amused him so much that he actually chuckled, something he did so rarely that it sounded strange even to his own ears. But Entreri's unexpected weakness and the equally unexpected opportunity to toy with the hated human offered him a perfect chance for a little entertainment after the tiresome last weeks.

* * *

At the same time, far in the East and on the surface, Artemis Entreri was entertaining a pleasant thought of a different nature: he imagined plunging his dagger in the throat of his so-called partner. Only the knowledge that the drow was certainly protected against any attack retained him from doing it.

"Just leave me alone," Entreri growled in utter exasperation. "Go down to the tavern and woo some bar maid, or whatever you do normally when you're bored, but stop pestering me."

"I'm not pestering you!" Jarlaxle exclaimed, seemingly hurt. Of course, the assassin thought, now he's again acting as if I had wronged him. "I'm merely trying to help you."

"Go away."

"Now, here's a fair deal," the drow said and smiled at his partner, making a theatrical gesture with one arm. "You tell me why you are so bad-humoured, and I leave you alone."

The assassin - who had, until now, lain on the bed and tried to get some sleep - looked up and stared at the drow with such a murderous expression in his eyes that Jarlaxle actually thought he might have gone too far. At least for a split second.

"That's hardly what I would call a 'fair deal'," Entreri snarled. But seeing Jarlaxle's tireless smile, he realised that the drow would not leave him alone. He never did.

Sighing, the assassin sat up. "In case you didn't notice in the months we've travelled together - I'm _always_ 'bad-humoured'," he said in the same voice as if he were talking to a particularly slow-witted child.

"Ha!" The triumph in Jarlaxle's unbearably melodic voice made Entreri wince. "But not like this! There's something on your mind, and not only today, but it's been like this for several days. This morning you nearly killed a bar maid just because she called you 'handsome one' ... by the way, she was rather pretty, you should have -"

"Jar - lax - le." If Entreri had said "Drizzt Do'Urden", his voice probably couldn't have sounded more venomous.

"Oh, yes, sorry, where was I? Well, you're not just bad-humoured, you're - I'm sorry to say that, Artemis, I really am - you're unbearable," Jarlaxle finished with an exaggerated sigh.

Entreri blinked, and while Jarlaxle expected to see anger and hatred in the assassin's eyes, the human just looked weary. "Just go away," he repeated, and there was a strange ring in his voice that made the drow comply. He didn't know why, but he _knew_ that he had to leave him alone now, that Artemis wouldn't forgive him easily if he didn't.

The sound of the door being closed behind Jarlaxle was accompanied by a deep sigh of relief from Entreri. The assassin sank back on his bed and buried his face in the soft pillows. It was always annoying to have Jarlaxle pressing him with countless questions, but in this particular case, Entreri would rather die than tell him what was on his mind. He wouldn't be able to look the drow in the eye anymore if Jarlaxle knew - Entreri was barely able to look at himself in a mirror.

He was ashamed. He was distressed. He knew that he had failed miserably, that he had lost control over his emotions. For the first time in his life, he felt something remotely akin to love - or actually, it was closer to a strange, sick fascination and longing, a desire that had turned into something more emotional. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the person he wanted so badly that it nearly drove him mad was a drow. Oh, and not Jarlaxle - even that would have been unbearable -, but a drow he hated even more. Kimmuriel.

Of all people it had to be the reserved, disdainful, racist psionicist whom Entreri had thought to hate profoundly. Kimmuriel, who had never looked at him with anything else but complete scorn and hatred in his eyes. Kimmuriel, who would gladly torture and kill him, just because he would think it amusing. Kimmuriel, who had unintentionally done to Entreri what nobody else had ever done: ripped open the assassin's perfect discipline and control.

Entreri felt sick, and even though he had eaten nothing the whole day long, he wanted to vomit, as if he could spit out these disgusting, unexplainable feelings. He realised that he was sweating and took a deep breath. He had to calm down, to regain control. Jarlaxle mustn't find him in such a state when he came back, or he would somehow make him tell everything. Jarlaxle was able to do that. And Entreri would have to kill him for knowing this. He tried to steady his breath and wiped the sweat off his brow.

I have to think clearly, he told himself, struggling with the panic that kept coursing through his mind. Kimmuriel. Kimmuriel was everything Entreri hated about drow. While Entreri could have understood if he had fallen for Jarlaxle's charm and sympathy, his efforts to understand and help him, there was absolutely no reason in the world to fall for Kimmuriel! Kimmuriel was a nightmare, he was an unbearable, cruel, harsh bastard who enjoyed insulting and humiliating him.

Of course, Entreri had always noticed how beautiful Kimmuriel was - it was actually one of the things that bothered him most about the psionicist, and about drow in general: he thought it absurd that so beautiful beings could be so cruel. In the beginning, Kimmuriel's beauty hadn't really affected him, but for some reason, he had found himself thinking more and more often about the drow at night. And in the last days, this purely carnal desire had perverted into a more emotional longing, a feeling that Artemis Entreri was so unused to that he simply couldn't handle it. Entreri reminded himself that there was absolutely no reason to think of Kimmuriel as a lover, a partner, that Kimmuriel was certainly even more unable to love than Entreri himself.

Normally, this method worked very well whenever emotions and fears troubled him, but this time, Entreri was at a loss. No matter how much he tried to put his thoughts in order, to convince himself that this whole thing was completely and utterly ridiculous - he still felt this strange ache in his stomach. The image of the psionicist invaded his thoughts, and despite his attempts to chase it away, the only clear thought that crossed his mind in this moment was that he wanted Kimmuriel, that he wanted to touch him, to be touched by him, to explore his body, to find some feeling in him.

When Jarlaxle returned to their shared room later in the evening, he found Entreri lying on the bed in an awkward position, completely entangled in the sheets, soaked with sweat and sleeping a most troubled sleep.

The drow sighed and stared down at him. "I'm worried about you, my friend," he said more to himself than to the sleeping assassin, but Entreri woke up nonetheless. His dagger was in his hand before he even opened his eyes, but when he saw Jarlaxle, he put the dagger back on the night table, yet he didn't relax.

Jarlaxle sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled at the assassin, but his visible eye clearly showed concern. Artemis averted his eyes and shifted uncomfortably.

"Don't call me like that," he said quietly. It actually didn't bother him anymore, because Jarlaxle really had been a friend to him over the last months, but maybe he could change the subject. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"Then, as your partner, I need you to be reliable and competent, which is hardly the case if you don't rest easy at night," Jarlaxle said - maybe this more rational argument would get through to the stubborn man. "It could help to tell me what bothers you. Maybe I could do something about it."

"I assure you that I am 'reliable and competent'. You can't help me, you can't change it, so there's no reason to bother with telling you. Now let me sleep, I'm tired," Entreri growled and turned his back to Jarlaxle. To his surprise and relief, the drow really went to his own bed without another word. Entreri hadn't known that Jarlaxle was capable of such an act of mercy, but he decided not to question his good luck and fell asleep soon enough - even though he was sure that his dreams would again be haunted by the cursed drow.

* * *

Despite Entreri's restless night, they resumed their journey southward early the next morning. The assassin had decided to leave Heliogabalus almost immediately after the incident with the shade, and Jarlaxle hadn't opposed him, glad that his usually indifferent companion seemed to care for something. Yet Artemis' mood had worsened even more, and the last evening had heightened the drow's curiosity and concern. Jarlaxle wondered if there was any relation between this shade or another event that had occurred in Heliogabalus and Entreri's bad humour.

He studied his companion carefully, not for the first time on this day: Artemis had regained control over himself and seemed once again perfectly cold and restrained. But Jarlaxle had come to know his friend very well, and he saw the uncertainty that gnawed at him, the distressed, pained expression in his eyes that made his usual frown even darker. Artemis seemed less attentive than usual, more focused on his thoughts - whatever they might be - than on his surroundings. He did his best not to look at Jarlaxle the whole day long, and he hadn't said a word except for some curt answers when the drow had asked him something.

They had been travelling for several hours when Jarlaxle tried once again to start a conversation, ignoring Entreri's angry scowl.

"You still haven't told me why you insisted on leaving Heliogabalus," he said casually, the usual smile on his fine, handsome face.

"There was no need to follow me if you preferred to stay there," Artemis snapped, but he regretted his words almost instantly. Of course, Jarlaxle was annoying, but he was, except for Dwahvel, the only friend Artemis had ever known - even though it still seemed completely absurd to him to call a drow his friend. At least it was less absurd than loving a drow, he thought a second later, but he quickly banned this idea from his mind.

Jarlaxle looked at him attentively, fascinated by the short display of emotions on the assassin's face. "I wouldn't be a good friend to let you leave," he said softly, not showing that Entreri's words had stung him - Jarlaxle rarely showed what he felt, too entangled in his own web of bluffs and deceptions. "By the way, there wasn't much in Heliogabalus that held any interest at all ... and like you, I don't feel like hunting goblins in the north."

"I don't want to meet another shade, that's all," Artemis answered. While his words didn't tell the whole truth, they weren't wrong either. Since their fight against the shade, Entreri had felt very uncomfortable in the city, always expecting more of these strange creatures to show up.

"Did the shade's lifeforce that you absorbed also cause your bad humour?" Jarlaxle asked, still smiling, but with a hint of annoyance in his smooth voice. The landscape hadn't changed much over the last hours, and the drow was starting to feel bored. He needed something to entertain him, but Entreri had apparently decided that he didn't want to be entertaining today. He snorted and growled something that even Jarlaxle's keen elven ears didn't pick up.

The drow decided to drop the subject - maybe Artemis would be more talkative later. And Jarlaxle had learnt over the last months that more curious questions made Entreri only angry and more close-lipped. But Jarlaxle didn't remain silent for long - Jarlaxle probably wasn't even able to.

"So, where are we going now? Farther to the south? To Impiltur maybe, and then to the Sea of Fallen Stars? And there, we could board a ship and go - well, nearly everywhere!" Jarlaxle had studied maps in Heliogabalus, and since then he had been constantly talking about the different lands he wanted to visit.

Entreri only shrugged. He didn't mind where they were going as long as it wasn't Menzoberranzan, and Jarlaxle's chatter got on his already frayed nerves. He stopped listening to the drow, all the more as he found his thoughts again drawn to Kimmuriel - he wondered how he would manage to restrain himself next time he had to see the psionicist. Maybe he shouldn't accompany Jarlaxle to the next meeting ... but then, he longed to see Kimmuriel again, to hear his beautiful, smooth, cold voice. It seemed impossible to imagine this voice filled with lust, tenderness, sympathy, and yet Entreri found the idea of Kimmuriel moaning into his ear rather intoxicating ...

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he heard the psionicist's name from Jarlaxle's lips. How had his mad companion changed the subject in such a short time from their potential destination to his lieutenant? Entreri stopped and stared at Jarlaxle, with obvious worry and embarrassment in his face. Jarlaxle couldn't possibly know, could he?

"What?" Artemis stammered, too confused to think of anything more intelligent or eloquent. Jarlaxle stopped as well and turned around, his gaudy cloak sweeping around his slender body.

"I said that we'll meet with Kimmuriel in a week, and that we should tell him about the shade. It would interest him," the drow said slowly, obviously confused by the human's behaviour. He had never seen Artemis Entreri so unaware, so disoriented, so nervous.

The assassin stared at him for several seconds in bewilderment, before he suddenly grabbed Jarlaxle's wrist and pulled him close, his confused expression replaced by an angry, threatening scowl. "Don't mention him," he hissed.

"But I..." Jarlaxle started, so taken aback that he didn't even try to escape the human's grasp. He knew that his friend hated Kimmuriel, but he had never reacted so violently just because Jarlaxle had brought up a meeting with the psionicist.

"I don't care. Don't mention him!" Entreri repeated more forcefully, before he released the drow's wrist and spun around to continue on his way.

Jarlaxle softly rubbed his aching wrist and stared at Entreri's back for several seconds until he followed him slowly. Something was definitely wrong with his companion: his bad humour, his taciturnity, his irritability, his inattentiveness, and now this outburst. But Jarlaxle - clever Jarlaxle who could read others so easily - was unable to figure out what was tormenting Artemis.

Yet he was no one to simply accept this: he would find out where Entreri's grief and trouble came from, and he would help him. Because Jarlaxle always needed to understand everything that happened around him. And because Artemis was his friend, a most fascinating friend.

Because Jarlaxle hoped that he could maybe use this opportunity to get closer to his reserved, cold companion.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Artemis stood at the window of the tavern room and stared at the grey night sky with a distracted expression on his face. Jarlaxle was still down at the bar, and the assassin was glad for this. He had regained his composure quickly enough to avoid more questions from his partner, but he was sure that Jarlaxle knew him too well to be fooled by appearances. Artemis, who had become at least a bit comfortable around his so-called friend, felt once again very uneasy whenever he was alone with the drow, always fearing that Jarlaxle might resume this embarrassing conversation about Entreri's bad humour.

The assassin shook his head in exasperation. No matter how calm he tried to appear, his feelings were still a complete mess. He could not understand them, name them, suppress them as he had always done. Just as he ran again the risk of falling back into introspection, he felt a strange tickle in his back, and his perfectly trained instincts told him immediately that he was not alone anymore - even though he hadn't heard anything.

He whirled around, drawing his jewelled dagger and readying it for a throw. When he recognised the drow who stood in the centre of the room, as relaxed as if he belonged there, Entreri lowered his weapon slightly, but he didn't put it away. He knew that a dagger was a rather pitiful weapon against a psionicist as powerful as Kimmuriel, but he didn't really expect the drow to attack him.

"Jarlaxle is not here," Entreri hissed, his voice full of venom and suspicion. He was sure that Kimmuriel had spied on them before coming here, to find out where they were - so the psionicist should know that Jarlaxle was not in his room, but at the bar. And had Jarlaxle not said that the next meeting would be in a week? Why had Kimmuriel bothered to come?

"Is he not?" the drow said and raised an eyebrow, but he didn't even try to look surprised. He studied the assassin carefully and was rather impressed by the human's renewed self-control: Entreri seemed once again calm, his eyes showed nothing but the habitual hatred and suspicion, and when Kimmuriel decently tried to spy on his thoughts, he found them completely blocked. He would need more concentration to pierce those barriers, and his intrusion did not stay unnoticed - and it wasn't necessary at all. He knew everything he needed to know to go through with his little plan.

Entreri furrowed his brow, still holding his dagger in the right hand, barely realising that he hadn't sheathed it. His thoughts were turning in wild circles at the sight of the drow, and it took all his concentration not to show this.

"What do you want?" he growled in a low voice, still speaking common even though Kimmuriel had answered in drow. They both understood each other's language, but normally refused to speak it.

The drow lifted one hand and stroked a strand of white, silky hair out of his face - a seemingly unconscious, simple gesture, but Entreri found his eyes drawn to those delicate fingers and needed, in his opinion, far too long to focus again on Kimmuriel's eyes. A knowing expression appeared on the drow's smooth features, on this face that was as cold and deprived of feelings as it was beautiful.

"What I want? Or what you want?" Kimmuriel seemed to savour every single word, and his lips slowly curled into the hint of a cruel smile. "I know what you've been thinking."

Artemis became so pale that the drow nearly expected him to pass out, and his grey eyes gleamed in a mixture of astonishment, shame, confusion and anger. Kimmuriel took great pleasure in the human's obvious pain, yet he noticed with some surprise that it touched him more deeply than a simple entertainment like this should. He quickly pushed this thought out of his mind - he didn't want his pleasure to be spoilt. He approached him slowly, still carefully, for he had learnt to respect Entreri's reflexes. But the assassin didn't move at all, even his grip on the dagger had become weak.

He only stirred when he felt a soft, warm hand on his stubbly cheek, caressing him with a tenderness that didn't go with the cruel expression in Kimmuriel's red eyes. Entreri tried to pull away, but his back already touched the wall. And the drow's fingers felt incredibly good, even better than he had imagined. He enjoyed the feeling for several seconds, before he batted Kimmuriel's arm aside, a nearly panicked look on his face.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, but his refusal sounded feeble even to his own ears. Kimmuriel didn't seem too convinced either, because he only laughed and slowly took Entreri's dagger from his weak grasp. The drow didn't bother to answer, but only stepped closer until his chest touched the assassin's, his hot breath brushing the human's face.

Entreri's barely maintained discipline failed completely when Kimmuriel's lips touched his own, softly exploring and caressing, while he rubbed his slim body against Entreri's. The drow was himself surprised how much he enjoyed this - in the beginning, he had deemed it a necessary sacrifice in order to tease the human, but now he realised how good Artemis' lips tasted, how arousing the touch of this strong, muscular body was. Kimmuriel nearly got carried away, and it was Entreri who broke the kiss and shoved the drow brutally away in another attempt to end every physical contact.

Kimmuriel frowned - he was not used to being rejected, but neither had he expected this to be easy. Yet he virtually felt the assassin's uncertainty, his hesitation, the struggle between his desire and his principles. The psionicist probably understood Entreri's feelings better than Entreri himself.

Artemis looked at Kimmuriel for a moment before he averted his eyes, incapable of saying anything. He was used to a cruel, almost unbearable reality, but what he had just experienced was even more beautiful than his daydreams about the drow. How could he resist those urges that seemed to be more than hollow promises, how could he resist now that he could anticipate what pleasures awaited him?

When Kimmuriel approached him again, Entreri's attempt to push him away was weak. He tensed when the drow pressed himself against him, quietly whispering in his ear.

"Calm down, Entreri. If I were planning to kill you, I would have done it already," he said in this smooth, melodic voice, and Entreri had to admit that he was right. Kimmuriel could kill him with a thought, he didn't need to distract him in such a way. The human bit on his lip, refusing to look at the psionicist or to answer him. He simply stood there, stiff and tense, trying to regain control over himself and the situation. A desperate try, when Kimmuriel was still so close to him, caressing him with too nimble fingers, softly sucking on his earlobe.

Artemis closed his eyes for a moment. His reason, his discipline, his principles told him to end this immediately, no matter how much he had enjoyed the beginning, but his emotions demanded from him to use the opportunity instead of questioning the drow's strange, unexplainable behaviour. While Artemis had ignored his feelings successfully for almost four decades, he found that he couldn't simply ignore them now. To be honest, he didn't even _want_ to. Maybe he could forget Kimmuriel once he had obtained what he had been desiring so passionately. Maybe he only needed to satisfy those obsessing urges to get rid of them.

Reassured by this justification, Artemis finally gave in to his lust, forcefully wrapping his arms around Kimmuriel's body. It surprised him how frail and delicate the powerful drow felt in his arms. The psionicist was barely smaller than Entreri, but his fine body seemed almost thin to the fighter.

He claimed the drow's lips, kissing him hungrily with all those pent-up longings of the last days. Long, nimble fingers opened his shirt and began to caress his chest with obvious fascination. Kimmuriel had never been so close to a human, and he spent several minutes contemplating and exploring the finely muscled torso, the numerous scars, the fine line of black hair on chest and belly. Entreri wasn't hairy for a human, but it was enough to intrigue the drow without repelling him.

Encouraged by Kimmuriel's gentle, nimble caresses, Artemis quickly freed the drow of his shirt and crushed him again in his arms. Kimmuriel's lips and teeth wandered over Entreri's shoulders and neck, marking his skin, before he kissed him again on the lips.

Their passionate kiss was interrupted when Kimmuriel suddenly pulled back, freeing himself completely of the human's embrace. Artemis understood the drow's withdrawal a split second later when he heard the loud ring of heavy boots on the corridor. Jarlaxle's boots.

Kimmuriel reacted amazingly fast: he grabbed his shirt, glared at Entreri with obvious hatred, and reached into his mind, quickly opening a gate and stepping through it. The bluish gleam had just vanished when the door was opened and Jarlaxle stepped in, finding himself confronted with a extremely odd sight.

Artemis Entreri stood near the window, shirtless and dishevelled, breathing heavily, with several reddened spots on his pale skin. Jarlaxle couldn't help but notice the bulge in the assassin's breeches. He felt that he had just walked into something very personal and intimate - but his companion was alone.

The assassin seemed just as confused as the entering drow, but his expression turned quickly into an angry scowl. Before Jarlaxle could say anything, Entreri rapidly buttoned his shirt, trying desperately to regain some of his dignity.

"Will you shut the door!" Entreri snarled, and Jarlaxle realised only then that he hadn't closed the door behind him. He did it quickly, but he couldn't take his eyes of his partner. He wondered what, or rather who, had brought the calm assassin in such a state.

"I'm sorry, Artemis, I didn't want to disturb you," Jarlaxle started, taking off his hat and looking again around as if trying to detect the human's lover.

"But you did," Entreri cut him short. "From tomorrow on I want my own room."

The drow was somewhat hurt by these words: they had always shared one room in taverns, and Jarlaxle had been the one to leave for a few hours if he wanted a bit of fun with some barmaid. But the drow was far too curious to sulk.

"As you wish, but ... what were you doing?" Jarlaxle asked in obvious confusion, still standing in the middle of the room while Entreri took off his boots and lay down in his bed, determined to feign fatigue and evade more questions - after all, he could very well imagine how ridiculous and absurd this scene had been.

The only words Jarlaxle could discern in Artemis' mumbled response were "none of your business". The drow sat down on his own bed and looked at the assassin's back, noticing that the finely honed body almost trembled - even though Jarlaxle couldn't say anymore if it was still with lust or with anger. Nor could the drow think of any reason why the assassin would start a tryst in their shared room, knowing that Jarlaxle could come back any second. And who had been his partner, someone who managed to arouse and distract the cautious man so much, and who was apparently able to disappear in the blink of an eye?

"Artemis?" His voice sounded almost pleading. He couldn't bear it when his friend ignored him.

"Shut up!" There it was again, this ring in the assassin's voice that Jarlaxle had heard several times in the last days, this ring that showed him so clearly that his friend wasn't well, that he needed help - and that he would not accept it. But obviously he had accepted someone to touch him in a most intimate way, Jarlaxle thought with a bitterness that surprised himself.

He felt ... Yes, what? His feeling reminded him a bit of the envy he felt when someone possessed a magical item he wanted. Was he jealous? No, that's absurd, he scolded himself. He knew that he would never be this close to Artemis, no matter what foolish hopes he had harboured in the last days. There were lines when dealing with Artemis Entreri that nobody, not even Jarlaxle, dared to cross. Jarlaxle knew that he would lose Artemis' friendship and what little of the man's trust he had gained if he tried to seduce him, and he had decided to forget how much the human attracted him. Until now, he had managed it quite well, all the more as Entreri seemed to be mostly celibate.

But now, seeing that his companion had obviously welcomed another lover, Jarlaxle felt his desires resurface. If Entreri gave this to others, why shouldn't he give it to him? If Entreri wasn't so jaded that he had lost every sense for sexual pleasures just as he had lost every sense for fine food and drink, why did he turn to someone else than his only friend?

Looking at Artemis' back, at the thick black hair that curled softly in his neck, Jarlaxle realised that he _was_ indeed jealous. He could accept to renounce his desires as long as Artemis stayed alone, but he could not accept that someone else obtained what he wanted.

Artemis always said that he hated Jarlaxle, but the drow didn't believe him. If Artemis hated him, he wouldn't have travelled with him for several months. He wouldn't have put up with Jarlaxle's often annoying behaviour. He wouldn't have helped the drow every time some superstitious humans wanted to attack him. He wouldn't have spent countless evenings in long conversations with Jarlaxle, never speaking much, but nonetheless showing more of himself to the drow than to every other person he had known, with the exception of Dwahvel maybe.

No, Artemis Entreri didn't hate him, no matter how much he grumbled about his 'mad' and 'annoying' companion. But he was so traumatised by a life full of loneliness and betrayal that he couldn't trust Jarlaxle, and the drow was afraid he could push him too far and anger him too much if he tried to manipulate Entreri the way he manipulated everyone else around him.

But now? Was it not his duty to help Artemis, even if the human didn't want help? Should he not try at least to give him what he needed? Someone else might hurt Artemis even more, and Jarlaxle couldn't allow that.

The drow often befriended people, he easily called them his friends, but when he had come to the surface he had learnt that a friend was more than only a profitable partner, and he had realised that the only true friend he had ever known had been Zaknafein. And now Artemis.

Jarlaxle had let Zak down, he had allowed him to stay at House Do'Urden instead of tricking him into joining Bregan D'aerthe, and thus Zak had stayed and suffered and eventually died because of his son. Because he had loved someone else more than Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle wouldn't make the same mistake again, he wouldn't allow Artemis to love someone else more than him, because it could only end badly. The drow wouldn't entrust his friend's well-being to someone else, he would take care of it himself.

He looked back to the assassin, whose breathing had become more steady, and Jarlaxle wondered if Artemis was asleep - how long had he been musing about this? He stood up and silenced his boots with a thought before he went over to the other bed: Artemis slept, even though face still seemed strained.

For a moment, Jarlaxle wanted to bend over and kiss him, but he knew that Entreri was a light sleeper and would notice it. Jarlaxle's usual smile found its way back to his lips when he returned to his bed, undressed and lay down. Tomorrow he would try to find out what Artemis had on his mind, and with whom he had spent the evening. He would show him that he really cared. Even Artemis Entreri was a human being that needed a friend, and their relationship had already evolved much in the last months.

Jarlaxle was confident that he could succeed. After all, Artemis Entreri would be the first person to resist his charm.

* * *

Jarlaxle's reverie was interrupted by a soft whimper from the other side of the room. The drow sat up immediately, curiously looking to Artemis' bed. It was still night, and the human seemed to be asleep, but he apparently had quite disturbing dreams, turning in his bed and sometimes moaning silently.

The drow was worried - Artemis hadn't slept well in the last nights, but his sleep had never been so obviously uneasy, and he had never awakened his partner. Jarlaxle silently stood up and went over to the bed, eyeing his companion, wincing at the sight of the helpless, confused look on his face.

"Artemis," he whispered, softly touching the human's shoulder. The assassin jerked up, wide-eyed and so startled that he even failed to reach for the dagger on his nightstand. He blinked and furrowed his brow, then looked around in the room before he focused again on Jarlaxle.

"Something wrong?" he growled, wondering why the drow had awakened him in the middle of the night.

"I think you should answer me that question," Jarlaxle said mildly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and noticing with some disappointment that Entreri backed off to bring more distance between them. "You were grumbling and moaning in your sleep, my friend."

Artemis seemed surprised and ashamed at these words, and he was even more ashamed of his dreams, which he could remember only vaguely - but he knew that they had involved Kimmuriel and the drow's impossibly soft lips.

"As I said, I'll have my own room from tomorrow on, so you won't have to worry about that anymore," the assassin snarled, trying in vain to mask his feelings with his usual anger.

"But I do, Artemis. I want to understand you. I want you to be fine."

"I don't care about your opinion on me," Entreri hissed. "Least of all in the middle of the night."

"This is not about my opinion on you, but I can see that you are not well. You're not like yourself, you're troubled, you're nervous. And even if you don't like to admit it - you need to talk about it," Jarlaxle explained seriously, smiling as always, but his gaze was fixed on Artemis' face.

The assassin glared at his partner, and his deep voice, even though it remained low, became sharper and cynical.

"Oh, I see, you want to help me again. Just as you wanted to help me when you imprisoned me in Menzoberranzan, I suppose, and when you forced me to work with you in Calimport. You probably also wanted to help me when you involved me in your conflict with your lieutenants, and you wanted to help me when you led me to this god-forsaken place! And you certainly wanted to help me when you made me confront Do'Urden again even though I had almost forgotten him!" Entreri said. "If I'm troubled then it's because of you, because you force yourself upon me, because you tamper with my life, because you're tormenting me with your endless questions without ever telling a word about yourself! You blame me for masking my feelings and thoughts, but you're the one who is hiding behind his tireless smile and witty remarks! And you are the one who brought this damned psionicist into my life!"

Jarlaxle was perplexed. So perplexed that he didn't realise immediately how out of place the last sentence seemed. He doubted that he had ever heard Artemis Entreri speak so much in such a short time, that his friend had ever revealed so much of himself in such a blatant way. The human trembled, but not only with rage, but also with disappointment and shame. If Jarlaxle hadn't known better he would have said that he even saw a moist glimmer in Artemis' eyes.

Was Artemis right? Jarlaxle wanted to fend off the accuses out of habit - he wasn't used to conceding his errors, but neither could he fully ignore what Artemis had said. If the reticent human had bothered to say it, then it had to be important.

"You wrong me, Artemis. I've always wanted the best for you ... I was, and I am convinced that you need to talk to someone, but you do not, so I thought it necessary to prod you to talk. We started as partners, but now we're friends. Friends do help each other, don't they?" Jarlaxle said quietly. His words completely were deprived of their usual wit and eloquence and seemed almost pleading. He couldn't bear the thought that the human had meant his words, that he really blamed him for everything.

"I know nothing about friendship," Artemis snorted, looking at the drow and trying to read his face in the darkness. "But if friends help 'each other', then you should stop lying to me."

Jarlaxle nearly gasped at these words. What had his surprising companion meant now? Did he know what Jarlaxle had been desiring and suppressing for months? Was he hinting that he wanted Jarlaxle to show these feelings? A tiny flicker of hope rose in him, and he smiled again, finding back to his old self.

"I'm not lying to you, my friend ... I am trying to do my best to make you feel better," he whispered, softly touching the assassin's cheek with delicate fingers.

Either he had surprised Artemis too much, or he had misunderstood his words completely. The human did not only evade his touch, but he virtually jumped out of bed and stared at Jarlaxle in a mixture of shock and incredulity.

"Are you -" he started, but his voice failed him, and he needed a few moments before he could speak again. "Have you all gone mad? First he and now you!"

Jarlaxle slowly stood up and walked over to the assassin, shaking his head in confusion and narrowing his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Artemis realised only then what he had said and quickly tried to draw Jarlaxle's attention from the slip.

"I understand you very well, you know? You invested so much time in me, trying to gain my trust, making me tell you things about me, testing how you could manipulate me, and now you want something back. You want your investigation to be profitable. You want me to confide in you, and now you even want me in your bed. Don't tell me anything about friendship, Jarlaxle, as long as you see others only as a potential source of profit or entertainment," Artemis said, knowing how unusual those words were out of his mouth.

A year ago, he would have never said, not even thought something like this. He would have thought it normal that people saw him as a tool, not as a person, and this only proved him how much Jarlaxle had already manipulated him, making him believe that he was different, that they were friends.

You disappoint me. Artemis didn't say it - he already regretted that he had spoken so openly to Jarlaxle, that he had shown his emotions so blatantly. But his eyes, nearly black in the dark room, made it clearer than any words could have. Jarlaxle opened his mouth, but for once he couldn't think of anything to say except for feeble, hollow denials that would have made things even worse. So he sighed and kept silent, looking after Artemis when the assassin dressed and left the room.

His only consolation was that Artemis didn't take his belongings with him.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are very much appreciated. I don't like to write this at the end of every chapter, and I won't, but this story is quite hard to write, so feedback would make me even happier than it does normally. :-)


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Artemis was miserable. Sitting on his bed in a small, shabby room, he thought about the last night, about his companion. They hadn't talked much this day on the road south and in the evening during their meal, but Artemis knew that he had hurt Jarlaxle, that his friend didn't feel any better than he. Even the advances of the innkeeper's beautiful daughter hadn't interested the drow, but Artemis had often felt Jarlaxle's eyes on him, sad and pleading, as if the drow had expected an apology.

The assassin had offered none. His words had been true, after all, yet Artemis realised that they had been harsher than necessary. But he wasn't a man who was used to talking about his feelings, and he didn't know how to explain them, how to tell Jarlaxle normally what bothered him. Artemis Entreri just kept everything to himself, he accumulated his anger until he couldn't restrain himself anymore. And then something like last night happened.

Kimmuriel's visit had already confused him, and Jarlaxle's unexpected advances had been just too much for the assassin. Unable to handle the situation, he had lost his temper. And he had hurt Jarlaxle. His friend. No matter how true his words had been - because Jarlaxle _was_ manipulating him and he _was_ always hiding his own feelings - Artemis regretted his behaviour.

But what should he have done? He had never even imagined that Jarlaxle could feel this way! Of course, Jarlaxle was capable of virtually everything, but still ... Artemis had thought of Jarlaxle as his friend and partner, never as a possible lover. He hadn't expected this, he didn't want it, and he had no idea how to deal with it, all the more as he didn't want to lose Jarlaxle as his friend. And he liked to think that Jarlaxle was still his friend. He wished to be wrong about what he had said on the day before, and he hoped desperately that Jarlaxle didn't think of him as an investigation, but as a friend.

Only a friend, not a lover.

Artemis sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His life had been turned upside down since he had first met a drow, but not in this way! The assassin almost missed the past, when he had been free of such feelings and desires, or when his only problem had been that Drizzt Do'Urden might be a better fighter. Almost.

Through a curtain of black hair that hang into his face, Artemis suddenly saw a blue gleam in the air before him. He straightened and tensed, even more when he saw who stepped through the portal.

Kimmuriel stood only several paces before him, clad in dark blue spider silk, a sly smirk on his face. Artemis felt a pleasant tingle running through his whole body, remembering their passionate kisses on the previous day, but the only thing he could bring himself to say was, "You're here again?"

The psionicist made a strange sound that vaguely ressembled a chuckle and glanced at him, his facial expression half seductive, half amused.

"I like to finish what I start," he explained in this smooth voice, before he looked around in the small room - a room with only one bed. "I see that you made sure we wouldn't be bothered this time."

"Why would you want that? You hate humans," Artemis asked, ignoring the drow's second sentence. He had to learn more about Kimmuriel's intentions and motives, as long as he was still enough in control of himself to think clearly. As much as he had tried since yesterday, he couldn't think of any reason why the psionicist would want him, would waste his time seducing him.

"_You_ hate drow. And you especially hate me," Kimmuriel stated in an exasperated tone. "As if that had anything to do with this."

He sat down on the human's lap and embraced him slowly, ignoring his reflexive flinching, but he furrowed his brow when Artemis averted his eyes. The assassin wasn't so sure of this anymore - that he really hated Kimmuriel. Of course, he _should_ hate him, he had no reason not to do so, but he realised that he wanted more than only the drow's perfect body in his bed. Yet he didn't know _what_ it was he wanted.

When he looked again at Kimmuriel, the drow grinned - this unbearable, hard grin, as cold as his voice when he whispered, "Stop thinking. You can do that once I have left."

Kimmuriel's eyes glimmered coldly and in cruel anticipation while he kissed the human, a kiss that was returned with equal passion and hunger.

For once in his life, Artemis Entreri didn't want to be reasonable. He could not be reasonable. To the Abyss with Kimmuriel's intentions - the drow was right, he could think about them later! The assassin quickly started to get rid of both their clothing, desperate to feel the soft, smooth elven skin under his hands. His caresses elicited a low moan from the drow, a sound that made Artemis wonder if he had ever heard something so beautiful, so intoxicating.

The psionicist backed off for a moment and contemplated the assassin, apparently liking what he saw. His fingers slid softly over the human's chin, touching the goatee with curious fascination, before they moved further down to Entreri's chest - their touch so airy that it seemed more teasing than caressing.

Growing impatient, Artemis tried to push the drow on his back and take the initiative - had it been only for physical strength, he would have succeeded effortlessly, but the psionicist's cold glare made him stop.

"We play by my rules, or we don't play at all," Kimmuriel hissed, and while his features had softened a little under Artemis' touch, they were once again hard now. He might allow himself to sleep with the human, but he surely wouldn't allow him to be the active one.

Artemis seemed a bit unhappy and worried at these words, but he was unable to think clearly, to understand the implications of the drow's words - not with Kimmuriel's soft fingers and lips on his body, not with those promises of pleasure that their kisses held.

He allowed Kimmuriel to turn him around, moaning when he felt the drow's weight pressing against his back, accompanied by soft kisses on his neck and shoulders. Yet when he felt the drow's slender hands moving over his hip and further down, the realisation of what Kimmuriel would do crashed upon him. He heard a smooth, evil laugh at his ear, but Kimmuriel didn't proceed immediately, as if savouring the human's upcoming understanding of what awaited him, as if he wanted him to anticipate the pain before feeling it.

The assassin tensed and dug his fingers into the blanket, his lust replaced by paralysing fear. What had he been thinking? That this sadistic drow had really come to pleasure him, to satisfy him tenderly without asking for anything in return? That Kimmuriel would maybe even allow him to be the dominant one? What a fool he had been!

Artemis knew now that Kimmuriel would hurt him in a way nobody had hurt him for decades. And he hadn't fought back, didn't struggle even now. He only closed his eyes and did what he had done as a little boy - he hoped it would be over quickly.

* * *

It was late in the evening when Jarlaxle finally left the main room of the inn - alone, not accompanied by the beautiful barmaid. He had tried half-heartedly to flirt with her after Artemis had gone upstairs to take a bath, but he had been too distracted to concentrate on her. And if he was honest to himself, he had to admit that he didn't really want to spend the night with any girl at all.

He went upstairs, silently and lost in not too pleasant thoughts. On the way to his own room, he came past his companion's. Jarlaxle stopped, wondering if he should go and talk to Artemis. They couldn't go on like this, distrusting and misunderstanding each other. Just as he moved to the door, extending one hand to knock, he heard a deep moan from inside the room.

Jarlaxle quickly glanced around, making sure that he was alone, before he stepped closer to the door, trying to discern more of the sounds. Yes, it was definitely Artemis moaning, not in pain but in lust - to Jarlaxle's ears it was a quite pleasant sound. But his curiosity was too big to get lost in his own fantasies. Even though he felt slightly bad for eavesdropping, he had to know who was eliciting these exquisite moans from his restrained friend.

It surprised him enough to hear that the second voice was male - until now, he hadn't been sure if Artemis preferred men or women - but Jarlaxle almost cried out in denial when this other man said something, and though he couldn't discern the words, he recognised the voice: it was Kimmuriel's! Jarlaxle listened harder, convinced that he had to be mistaken, but there could be no doubt: the person in Artemis' bed had to be his lieutenant.

Shocked and confused, Jarlaxle hurried to his own room, shutting and locking the door behind him as if he was afraid that Kimmuriel might have noticed him. Suddenly, at least a part of the strange events of the last days began to make sense: Artemis' outburst when Jarlaxle had mentioned Kimmuriel, these strange words he had spoken last night - "First he and now you!" - and the fact that his mysterious lover of the previous evening had disappeared so quickly.

But how was that possible? How could Kimmuriel, as racist as any drow Jarlaxle had ever met, desire a human? How could Artemis invite someone who had insulted him so often to his bed? How could he, if he was able to desire a drow, welcome Kimmuriel and refuse Jarlaxle? All the more as he had to know that Kimmuriel hated him while Jarlaxle cared for him.

The mercenary leader was pacing through his room, his mind working frantically, searching for an explanation. Had Kimmuriel forced Artemis into his bed? But no, those moans Jarlaxle had heard hadn't been those of a man who was raped. Jarlaxle realised that the idea of turning back to Artemis' room and "help" him was born out of jealousy more than out of concern for his friend's safety.

But even though Jarlaxle couldn't understand what had happened, what strange chain of events had ended with Kimmuriel and Artemis apparently having much fun in bed, the drow knew that something was amiss. Because Artemis wasn't happy, but grumpier than ever, and because Jarlaxle knew Kimmuriel well enough to be sure that the sadistic and ruthless psionicist was up to something.

Distressed and worried, Jarlaxle undressed and lay down on his bed, hoping that the night might go over soon. He needed to talk to Artemis.

* * *

Artemis sighed and embraced Kimmuriel languorously, still breathless. His thoughts were blurry, and the last hours were more like a dream to his mind than like real events. He could barely remember any details of what they had done, he only knew that he had enjoyed it, that - for some reason - there had been no pain.

Kimmuriel lay in his arms, sweaty and panting, but with a look of satisfaction and contentment on his face that Artemis had never expected to see. The human snuggled closer to the drow, savouring his presence. Artemis had never stayed with anyone once he was satisfied, but the slender drow body felt too good in his arms, and Kimmuriel was just impossibly beautiful in this moment, his face free of the usual coldness and cruelty.

Even his red eyes seemed somewhat softer than usual when he opened them and looked at the assassin, before he kissed him softly. The transformation touched Artemis, and for a moment he almost wanted to say something tender.

But this peaceful state ended far too soon. Kimmuriel recovered quickly and regained soon enough control over himself. Frowning angrily and appearing surprised as if he had only just realised where he was and what he had done, the drow suddenly sat up and pushed the human away.

Kimmuriel got hastily out of bed, staring at Artemis in a mixture of disgust, surprise and confusion, before he grabbed his clothes and dressed quickly. Artemis sat up and furrowed his brow, still too absorbed in the bliss of this evening to fully comprehend what Kimmuriel was doing.

"This is ... disgusting," Kimmuriel hissed, but his voice seemed just a hint less firm than normal. "I'll need a week to get your human stench off me."

"What are you talking about?" Artemis finally managed to say. He moved to the edge of the bed and grabbed Kimmuriel's wrist to hold him back. He couldn't believe what he had just heard, not even from Kimmuriel!This drow had slept with him, had shown him a passion Artemis had never known in anybody, he had enjoyed every single second of this night, and now he said it was disgusting?

Kimmuriel pulled his hand away and slapped the human in the face, not forcefully, but hard enough to hurt him.

"This never happened, Entreri! Not a word to Jarlaxle!"

The slap had cleared Artemis' thoughts immediately. His eyes became once again hard, even though there remained a painful glimmer in them. Acting as efficiently and calmly as ever, he reached for his weapon belt near the bed. But Kimmuriel didn't seem to want a fight, which was quite unusual for the normally aggressive psionicist.

Spitting a last insult in drow, he conjured once again a psionic gate that would bring him back to Menzoberranzan.

Artemis hadn't even drawn his dagger by the time Kimmuriel was gone. He sighed and sank back onto the bed, closing his eyes and pressing his face in the pillows. Kimmuriel's behaviour confused him more and more - not his cruelty, he was used to that, but rather his unexpected tenderness in bed and even more these erratic changes of mood that didn't seem to fit the calculating drow.

The assassin couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep, and he was still tired when he heard someone at his door the next morning. Jarlaxle, he knew immediately when the traps were deftly disarmed before the drow stepped in.

Artemis didn't even bother to look at him. The last thing he needed now were more questions, more advances. Supposing that it was late and that Jarlaxle wanted to move on, the human stood up and dressed.

"We need to talk," the drow stated simply, but Artemis heard a sad ring in his normally cheerful voice that made him turn around and look at Jarlaxle. His companion stood near the door, a strained smile on his lips.

"_We_ need to talk?" the assassin echoed. "You mean, you want to ask questions and I have to answer them?"

Snorting, he moved to the little mirror on the commode and started to shave. His usually steady hands trembled a bit, and in his distress he even managed to cut himself. This surprised Artemis as much as Jarlaxle, and thus the human didn't object when his partner went over to him and softly dabbed off the blood with a handkerchief.

"I'm sorry. I never realised that you ... that my behaviour offended you this much. You intrigue me, Artemis, and there isn't much interesting to tell about me," Jarlaxle explained slowly while his fingers trailed over the cut on his cheek. "I can try to be more honest, if that is what you want, but right now, you don't need to hear about my problems. You have enough yourself."

Artemis glanced in the mirror and had to admit that Jarlaxle was right: he was pale, a pallor that had nothing to do with the shade's lifeforce, and his eyes seemed dull and tired. He looked just as horrible as he felt, but how could he possibly tell Jarlaxle about the last night? He wasn't afraid of Kimmuriel or intimidated by the drow's threat, but he was too ashamed to tell Jarlaxle - and Kimmuriel probably knew this. So Artemis remained silent and didn't even look at Jarlaxle.

"I know that Kimmuriel was here last night," Jarlaxle said, suppressing the pain and jealousy he felt when he imagined the psionicist and the assassin together.

Artemis' eyes widened in shock when he finally stared at his partner. If Jarlaxle had told him that he knew everything about his childhood, about his father, Artemis wouldn't have been more startled.

"You know? Is this another sick plan of yours? Are you and your lieutenant having some fun driving me mad?" He almost shouted at the drow, but he already knew that he was wrong. Jarlaxle's confusion and pain were not feigned, but very real.

"Do you really think I would allow him to hurt you? I protected you from him, remember? You should stop blaming me for everything bad that happens in your life!" Jarlaxle shot back, on the verge of losing his temper. But he restrained himself, and his voice was calm and soft when he continued.

"I didn't know it was him until last night, when I came past your room and heard his voice. Please believe me, for once in your life."

Jarlaxle felt uncomfortable under Artemis' scrutinising gaze, became more and more uncomfortable with every second that passed in silence. He sighed in relief when Artemis gave a quick nod and looked away.

"I suppose my words were a bit harsh, two nights ago and today," he said so quietly that Jarlaxle barely understood him - it was as close to an apology as anything Artemis would ever say.

A huge smile lit up on Jarlaxle's features, and he asked softly, "What did he do to you?"

Artemis looked again at him, but this time his eyes seemed dreamy. He sat down on his bed and kept silent for so long that Jarlaxle wondered if the assassin had even heard him. But Artemis finally answered, and he gave the answer Jarlaxle had wanted to hear least of all.

"He gave me the best night of my life," Artemis whispered, his voice tender and sad, for once filled with all those emotions he usually kept locked up deep within him. Jarlaxle winced at these words - as if it wasn't enough that his friend slept with Kimmuriel, now he even talked about him in a way that the drow had never thought him capable of.

"He hates you!" Jarlaxle blurted out, crouching before the assassin to look him in the eyes. "If I hadn't protected you, he would have killed you back in Calimport, and he would have enjoyed it! How can you forget that?"

"I don't," Artemis answered, his voice clearer and calmer than before. "I know he hates me, but still ... he had the chance to hurt me, but he didn't. Not physically at least ..."

The assassin averted his eyes again and stared on the floor while he mumbled, "Why am I even telling you this?"

"Because I am your friend," the drow explained softly.

"Indeed," Artemis said ironically. "Then, as my friend, do me a favour, don't poke your nose into this. Until now, your attempts to help me only backfired."

"But I can't allow Kimmuriel to do this to you! No matter what you tell me, he hurt you. And he will continue to do so if he enjoys his little game," Jarlaxle protested, but Artemis only snorted and shook his head.

"Your concern would maybe touch me if I didn't know that you're just jealous. I suppose you wouldn't even be interested in me if you could have me. But you can't bear the thought that somebody else gets something you can't have."

"You're cruel, Artemis."

"You're drow, you should be used to that," the assassin retorted sarcastically.

"I don't understand you," Jarlaxle lamented, ignoring the human's remark. "I hid my feelings until now because I thought that they would offend you."

"They do offend me," Artemis interjected. Jarlaxle scowled, but he decided to forgive the assassin - he knew that his friend was just too miserable to think about someone else's feelings.

"But if you can accept the idea of sleeping with a drow, how can you choose him, knowing that he only waits for the right opportunity to humiliate you completely, and refuse me, the only one who really cares for you! That doesn't make sense, it isn't reasonable!"

"I can't say that I have been very reasonable during the last days," Artemis sighed, growing tired of their petty disputes. How strange that he had to hurt Jarlaxle continuously, even though he really didn't want to. He shouldn't be venting his anger on Jarlaxle - after all, the drow really seemed worried, even if his concern was born out of his feelings for the assassin. But was that such a bad thing? Was it so bad to have Jarlaxle care for him, even love him? Artemis couldn't remember that anybody had ever loved him or imagine that anybody would ever do so - Kimmuriel least of all.

"It's not as if I had chosen any of this. I just can't restrain myself," he said eventually, too frustrated to fend off the drow's attempts to talk about this any further. Jarlaxle sighed and sat down beside him, softly laying a hand on Artemis' forearm.

"Let me help you, please. I can't look at this misery any longer; I can't bear to see how Kimmuriel plays with you, like a cat with a mouse it has already cornered," Jarlaxle whispered, his eyes fixed on the assassin's face. Artemis couldn't remember when Jarlaxle had taken off his hat and his eye-patch, but it gave him a strange feeling of confidance, of intimacy to see both his eyes. Maybe this made him speak so openly instead of shying away from the drow.

"I want him," he answered lowly, forcing the words over his dry lips. "And ... I can't see anything else but a friend and partner in you."

"Kimmuriel can't give you what you need," Jarlaxle said desperately, clutching Artemis' wrist with all his force as if this could convince the assassin.

"And what is it I need?" Artemis answered thoughtfully, not a bit aggressive, but as if in expectance of a real answer.

"You need someone who cares for you, who understands you."

"I am sure Kimmuriel understands me, in a way. We are not so different, your heartless lieutenant and I." Artemis had no idea why he said this - he had never thought that he and the drow had anything in common, but the words just seemed right to him in this moment.

"Kimmuriel is incapable of any other feeling than hatred. He only sees you as a source of entertainment!"

"And you do not?" Artemis laughed, but it was a bitter, joyless laugh, all the more as he knew that he was once again wronging Jarlaxle, hurting him mindlessly. Jarlaxle looked miserable, and the assassin wished that he could tell him something more pleasant. But what should he do? Lie to Jarlaxle to make him happy? "I told you, this is beyond my control. I tried to get rid of these ... feelings, I truly did, but I can't."

For a long minute, they just sat there, looking at each other, but Jarlaxle didn't answer. Feeling uncomfortable in this silence, Artemis finally said, "We should take off, don't you think?"

The drow shook his head and shrugged at the same time. "I'm tired, we both are. We should get some sleep, the road can wait until tomorrow."

Artemis furrowed his brow, but he didn't object. Jarlaxle was right - they were indeed tired and hardly motivated for travelling and working, and as they were not short of money yet, they didn't need to get a job as soon as possible.

"Can I stay with you?" the drow asked, quickly continuing as he didn't want the human to misunderstand him, "I don't want you to be alone, that's all."

Again, he didn't receive any answer, but Artemis just lay down on the other side of the bed, turning his back to the drow. The bed was large enough for the both of them to be comfortable without touching each other, and Jarlaxle took his friend's silence as a yes.

And somehow, Artemis felt strangely consoled by the drow's presence, by the sound of Jarlaxle's steady breathing. When he finally fell asleep, his rest was a bit calmer than in the last days.

Jarlaxle, however, lay awake for a long time, undecided what he should do. He couldn't possibly talk to Kimmuriel about this - Artemis would kill him if he ever found out. And as much as he wanted to, he couldn't be around Artemis all the time either to make sure that the psionicist got no chance to continue his game. Jarlaxle's considerations all brought him back to the single possibility to help the human and protect him from Kimmuriel - he just had to make sure that Artemis would feel stronger about him, because if he loved Jarlaxle, he would not be such an easy prey for the psionicist, he would get over Kimmuriel. And that would be the best for both of us, Jarlaxle thought finally with a smile. I'll get the man I want, and he'll get a lover who won't hurt him.

Mutual benefit. Just the way Jarlaxle liked to handle things.


	4. Chapter Four

**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.


	5. Chapter Five

**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.


	6. Chapter Six

**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.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Artemis was having wonderful dreams, dreams that involved soft lips on his throat, then on his chest, and long fingers that were entwined with his. It took him some time to realise that he was already half awake and that these caresses were real.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Jarlaxle lying in his arms, awake and once again touching his body as enthusiastically as he had on the previous evening. Artemis laid a hand on the drow's cheek, looking him in the eyes before he kissed him.

"Good morning," Jarlaxle said with a smile, trailing one finger over the human's stubbly cheek.

"Isn't it a bit early to wake me?" Artemis asked, knowing that elves needed less time to rest than humans. Jarlaxle had always been awake before him, but he usually left his companion alone - the assassin was even grumpier when he didn't get enough sleep.

The only answer he received was an amused chuckle while Jarlaxle nodded towards the window - light flooded into the room at the edges of the curtain, not the first morning rays, but bright daylight. It had to be late in the morning, maybe already noon. Artemis arched an eyebrow in surprise, but then he remembered that they hadn't fallen asleep until the early morning hours. Still, the assassin started to get up, but Jarlaxle held him back.

"What? I thought that you wanted to reach Ilmwatch today? You've been talking about seeing the sea for weeks," Artemis stated, but he didn't struggle when Jarlaxle pushed him again on his back and snuggled against him.

"Yes, that's what I planned to do," the drow answered with a wry smile. "But it's still a day's journey until Ilmwatch, we won't make it today. So we can just as well stay here and travel on tomorrow. I can wait another day to see the ocean ... Right now I have something far more beautiful to explore."

Artemis shook his head in disbelief - even after the long months he had spent with Jarlaxle the drow still surprised him. But Jarlaxle was, of course, right. Somehow, the insane drow always seemed to be right.

"And what are we going to do here, in a small village on the road?" the assassin asked sceptically, ignoring the last remark. He doubted that the drow had been serious about it - even Jarlaxle couldn't be so unsatiable to want still more after such a passionate night. But Artemis was underestimating his companion yet again.

"What do you think of 'staying in bed all day long'?" Jarlaxle suggested, playing with a curl of the human's black hair. It was thick and soft, and it felt very different from the silky elven hair of Jarlaxle's drow lovers. And what amazed him even more was that the hair on the human's chest, arms and legs felt different yet again, and to Jarlaxle's mind it only enhanced the beauty of Artemis' trained body.

"I still haven't shown you everything I can do with my tongue ... You fell asleep too early," Jarlaxle added with a pout after a few moments he had spent contemplating the human.

"You didn't look as if you had been unsatisfied," Artemis protested, slightly offended by Jarlaxle's complaint. By the way, he wasn't young anymore. Jarlaxle could hardly expect a man in his mid forties to have as much stamina as a drow.

"Don't worry, I was very satisfied. The shade's lifeforce has apparently restored your physical fitness to that of a younger man in every aspect," the drow chuckled. He looked at the assassin with such a tenderness that Artemis forgot every offence and felt just grateful for everything his companion had given him. In this moment Jarlaxle didn't even seem annoying anymore, only caring and loving. And most of all, Jarlaxle had helped him to forget his pain and his worries for at least one night.

Artemis frowned suddenly. True enough, he hadn't wasted a single thought on Kimmuriel since the previous evening, but he realised that his feelings for the psionicist hadn't simply disappeared. It unnerved Artemis that even the wonderful night with Jarlaxle hadn't freed him from them. How could he still feel such a burning desire and longing for a man he hated more passionately than ever before?

Jarlaxle apparently believed that Artemis' frown was still a reaction to his little barb, for he didn't look concerned at all. He placed a few tender kisses on Artemis' cheek before he pulled back again.

"Would you mind shaving before we start our day in bed?" the drow asked with a wide smile, so charming that his request seemed almost friendly, as if he had just suggested something Artemis would enjoy greatly. As much as Jarlaxle was fascinated by his human lover, he found the feeling of the raw stubble on his tender skin rather unpleasant.

The assassin's frown deepened - Jarlaxle's words reminded him painfully of Kimmuriel's comment on his beard. But he nodded after a few moments and got out of bed. Jarlaxle had done so much for him, so Artemis could do him this little favour now. Especially as he himself didn't like to be unshaved; it offended his sense for discipline and control.

A tiny smile crept onto his lips while he started to rummage in his pack in search of his razor. Despite these bleak thoughts that had come to him in the last minutes, he felt quite good. Jarlaxle was an amazing lover, the night had been great, the day would probably be just as pleasurable, and with a bit of luck Kimmuriel wouldn't ever bother with him again after their last dispute.

Still, Artemis couldn't help but wonder if he really _wanted_ Kimmuriel to stay away from him.

* * *

They travelled to Ilmwatch on the next day and reached the city in the early evening hours. Had it not been for Artemis' unwillingness to spend another day in bed - something that seemed incredibly decadent to the disciplined assassin - their journey would probably have been delayed even more.

Ilmwatch was a rather unremarkable town, the most interesting part being the port. As soon as they had found an inn that seemed good enough to the drow, Jarlaxle virtually dragged his companion to the docks, fascinated by the boats and the sea like a small child. It wasn't the first time Jarlaxle saw the ocean - he had been in Calimport, after all - but back then, he had been too focused on his business and later on the crystal shard to truly appreciate the beauty and the wonders of the sea and the men who lived with her. But now, the drow was having the time of his life, asking the most detailed question to the sailors, chatting excitedly about the boats and exclaiming again and again that that the surface was truly beautiful.

Entreri was rather bored by all of it, as he had spent nearly his whole life close to the sea, first in Memnon and later in Calimport. The assassin was tired from a long day on the road, and the only thing he wanted now was a fine meal, a bath and a bed with Jarlaxle in it. He smirked at the thought for a second, but he banned it from his mind immediately. Right now, he had to accompany Jarlaxle on his tour. As charming as the drow was, he might easily get attacked or at least ignored by the superstitious sailors. Having a human by his side - a human who looked decidedly dangerous, but at least not like a madman - kept the drow out of trouble. Artemis didn't realise that he was actually feeling protective for his friend.

After some time, however, news of the drow had spread throughout the haven, and along with it the assurance that this particular dark elf was a rather curious, but not very dangerous fellow. Deciding that Jarlaxle would be able to continue his excursion alone - and knowing that, if anything should happen, Jarlaxle was very well able to take care of himself - Artemis left his friend and returned to the inn.

The human allowed himself a long bath, relaxing his weary muscles. He noticed that his new closeness to Jarlaxle was almost making him soft: he had spent a whole day in bed, he enjoyed his bath much more than he had in a long time, and the next night would probably be as agitated as the last ones. Artemis doubted that he would be able to get up early in the next morning if Jarlaxle again didn't let him sleep, and the assassin usually hated to stay in bed too long. Curiously, the thought didn't offend him very much right now. Being with Jarlaxle felt too good to regret anything, and Artemis refused to brood too much over the last two days. Brooding always led his thoughts back to Kimmuriel, and the assassin definitely did not want to think about this particular drow.

When Artemis went back to his room - once again a room he shared with Jarlaxle - the mercenary leader hadn't returned yet. The assassin grinned slightly, certain that the fishermen and sailors would continue to talk about that outrageous, eccentric drow for some time. It actually didn't bother him that Jarlaxle wasn't there yet - he looked forward to the night, but he also enjoyed to have a bit more time for himself again. Artemis had been a loner since his childhood, and it was often exhausting for him to have someone around him all the time - especially someone as talkative and demanding as Jarlaxle.

Clad in comfortable trousers instead of his usual leather breeches, wearing neither boots nor a shirt, the human sat down on a chair and started to play with his dagger, lazily turning it around in his hands, watching with never-ending fascination the reflection of light on the jewels. Artemis wasn't a man who appreciated beauty very much - he held no interest in sculptures, architecture or music, he could never enjoy a beautiful landscape or a sunny day as much as Jarlaxle, and he tended to see everything from a more practical point of view. Yet he had always been intrigued by his vampiric dagger, his trademark weapon and one of the rare objects that were, in Artemis Entreri's opinion, truly beautiful. Had he been asked about it, he would have claimed that the dagger was nothing more than a useful tool. But in truth, he was really fond of this weapon that had been on his hip and in his hand for more than half of his life, the weapon that had saved his life countless times. Although he would never admit it, he had missed the dagger after losing it in one fight against Drizzt, and he had indeed been glad to retrieve it.

Artemis turned the weapon again, flinching suddenly when he saw the reflection of a gleaming blue gate on the blade. Cursing himself silently for relaxing too much and letting his guard down, the assassin virtually jumped on his feet and stared at Kimmuriel when the psionicist stepped into the room.

To Artemis' utter surprise, the drow looked neither angry and aggressive nor seductive - he seemed humiliated. He appeared like someone who wanted to admit a mistake and didn't know how to do it. They looked at each other for several seconds, the human wondering about this strange facial expression, the drow searching for the right words.

But then Kimmuriel's gaze fell on the still visible mark on Artemis' throat, and the assassin felt the psionic intrusion only a second later. It was nothing more than a short scan of his current thoughts before Kimmuriel pulled back, but it was enough to tell the psionicist exactly what had happened.

The look of uncertainty and hesitation gave way to a look of pure hatred and reproach.

"And you dare to tell me that I am playing with you? So much for the sincerity of _your_ feelings," the drow hissed in a sarcastic voice that failed to hide his disappointment completely. "You were rather quick to replace me with Jarlaxle. Did he lower himself to what I refused to do?"

"I do not think you are in the position to reproach me with anything after what you did to me," Artemis replied, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. He didn't want to lose control again; he had to lock up his anger at Kimmuriel's acid words and at his insult at Jarlaxle, because it was the only way to lock up his longing for the psionicist, too.

"At least I have been thinking about what has happened, while you had apparently much fun since our last meeting," Kimmuriel growled, struggling to keep his voice low. He hated to lose his temper; it was a sign of weakness, and if Artemis apparently didn't care about him, why should Kimmuriel show him any weakness?

"And to which conclusion have your thoughts brought you?" the human asked, trying to appear distant and bored, as if Kimmuriel's visit was only an annoyance to him.

"Now that I see what you have done, my only conclusion is that I have been a fool," the drow replied with a surprising bitterness in his usually so smooth voice. His words and the painful gleam in his beautifully shaped eyes stung the assassin harder than he cared to admit. "Tell me, Entreri, did you just want a drow in your bed, not caring if it was me or Jarlaxle? Or did you think that it might hurt me if you slept with him? Or are you really just a cheap whore who -"

"Shut up!" Artemis almost yelled these words, surprised by his own outburst. He couldn't stand the drow's false accusations, he was pained by the little sting of guilt that told him that he had acted wrongly when he had slept with Jarlaxle, and that Kimmuriel called him once again by his last name was like a slap in his face. He had liked the way the psionicist had pronounced his first name, and Kimmuriel's calling him 'Entreri' reminded him of the time when they had been bitter enemies.

Equally surprised by this uncharacteristic tone, Kimmuriel fell silent and stared at Artemis, while the human averted his eyes and seemed hopelessly confused. The drow bit on his lip, pondering for several moments what he should do. He had been determined to apologise when he had come here - he hadn't known how to do it, but he had been ready to acknowledge that he had made a mistake. He had wanted to explain why this was so difficult for him, to assure Artemis that he cared, that he wanted for them to be together, if he just knew how.

Kimmuriel had been ready to do something he had never done before: to recognise his feelings for this human, and to tell him about them. And when he had come here, he had seen that Artemis hadn't wasted a thought on him since their last dispute, that he had turned away from him and replaced him with - of all people - his annoying former leader. Artemis probably didn't even want to hear an apology.

The drow swallowed, trying to regain his composure. Hurting, raping the human as a punishment was no option anymore. Kimmuriel wouldn't be able to do it, and if Artemis was by now Jarlaxle's lover and not only his friend, the dangerous mercenary would hardly let Kimmuriel get away with this. Should he simply leave and forget Artemis? It would be the most reasonable thing to do, but it was impossible. Now that he had finally recognised his feelings, even started to accept them and decided to show them, he couldn't go back to suppressing them. No, he wanted to stay with Artemis. He wanted another chance.

"Artemis," Kimmuriel said quietly after a few minutes, looking up at the human, who had turned his back to him, although they were quite close to each other. "I am ... You don't understand."

Kimmuriel cursed himself silently. Wonderful, he wanted to reach out to the human, and the first thing he said was a reproach.

"You have seen Menzoberranzan, you have seen that there is no place for feelings in my world. And judging from what I have seen in Calimport, there is no place for them in yours either," he continued. This time, Artemis turned around and stared at the drow in surprise. Not only was Kimmuriel showing some comprehension for Artemis, he also made the effort to speak common suddenly.

"It's not any easier for me to accept these emotions than it is for you. They make us vulnerable, we both agree on that. And yet we are both incapable of getting rid of them. We just have ... different ways to express our ... fear." Kimmuriel's voice had become lower with every word, and he had averted his gaze now, staring at his fine boots.

"So you wanted to rape me because you were _afraid_?" Artemis snarled, but his voice was less aggressive than he wanted it to be. "You insulted and threatened me because you were _afraid_? I was no threat to you!"

"Yes, you were a threat to me," Kimmuriel replied softly, looking up with wide eyes. He seemed again so incredibly young in this moment. "You made me weak, and I wanted to destroy the source of this dangerous weakness. I was afraid because I didn't understand what happened to me. It was the first time I had ever to deal with something my mind couldn't handle. I hated you for ... inspiring this feeling in me."

Artemis wanted to make a sarcastic remark, to tell the drow to keep his lies to himself and leave, but he was too amazed and dumbfounded by Kimmuriel's frankness. He had never believed him capable of being so honest, of admitting his fears and feelings to himself, let alone to someone else. Artemis himself wouldn't be able to say such things he had just heard from Kimmuriel. He couldn't dismiss the fact that Kimmuriel had just shown him some trust - not by giving over control to Artemis in bed, but by overcoming what he had been taught since his birth: that feelings should be suppressed and hidden.

But Entreri scolded himself as soon as his initial surprise faded. He glared at Kimmuriel coldly, and his aggressive body language made the unsure drow back off until he touched the wall.

"I will not fall for this again," Artemis promised with a sneer, trying to convince himself as much as Kimmuriel.

"Yes, you will," Kimmuriel replied after a moment he needed to compose himself again. He hadn't just made the probably biggest effort of his life to give up so easily now. "Because you know that I've said the truth. Because you want to be with me and not with Jarlaxle."

Artemis grew suddenly pale and started to turn away. He had almost forgotten his friend in face of Kimmuriel's surprising behaviour. He longed for Kimmuriel, even if his mind refused to acknowledge it, and the drow's honesty had given him hope again. But could he just leave Jarlaxle after what his friend had done for him? Did he not prefer to be with Jarlaxle rather than with this selfish, indecisive psionicist?

He felt Kimmuriel's hand taking his own, squeezing it gently. The drow made a small step forward to close the distance between them and leaned against Artemis' chest, looking up to him with that rare and all the more precious smile.

"Just give me time," Kimmuriel whispered in a soft voice, a voice that held nothing of the hatred and disdain Artemis had grown used to. It was only a short moment until his eyes became harder again, but it was an honest promise Artemis couldn't dismiss, as hard as he might try. He realised that Kimmuriel was right - _this_ was what he wanted.

Artemis still hesitated for a while, just staring at the slender drow, repeating in his mind everything Kimmuriel had said today, every look he had given him, every change in his voice. Yet when Kimmuriel tentatively laid his lips on Artemis', asking for a kiss rather than kissing him, the assassin cast his doubts aside and wrapped one arm around the drow's body, a tender gesture that was followed by a deep, intense kiss.

Kimmuriel closed his eyes and pressed himself to the human, aching for as much physical contact as possible. He felt strangely comforted and safe in Artemis' arms, and at the same time aroused and longing for more than only sweet kisses. The drow wondered if anything had ever seemed so perfect, so _right_ to him as this, and he knew - even without using his psionical powers - that Artemis was certainly thinking and feeling the same.

The squeal of the opening door shattered the moment's bliss, and although Kimmuriel and Artemis parted immediately, it was evident what had just happened between them. Both were breathing heavily, and their eyes held the confused and surprised expression of someone who had been wakened in the midst of a dream.

Jarlaxle's hand lay still on the doorknob, and his beaming, happy smile vanished in the blink of an eye, replaced by a blank, shocked expression. He hardly took notice of Kimmuriel, but he gave Artemis a look of such helpless disappointment that it pained the assassin more than a slap in the face.

For the first time in the long years they had known him Artemis and Kimmuriel saw Jarlaxle so shaken that the mercenary leader seemed incapable of uttering one single word.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

They didn't move or talk for several moments, each one of them too surprised and shocked to react. Artemis and Jarlaxle were staring at each other, Kimmuriel felt uncomfortable and more and more angry at this disturbance. Yet he held his tongue, knowing that this was above all something between Artemis and Jarlaxle.

It was Jarlaxle who regained his composure first. With distressing calm he finally closed the door behind him, but he didn't approach them further. His usually so cheerful voice was grave and strained when he said, "So you have made your choice."

It wasn't a question, but a statement spoken with complete certainty. Jarlaxle continued before the human could answer, "You will regret it, Artemis. He will hurt you again, and I promise that I won't be there for you anymore."

Kimmuriel tensed at these words, anger flickering through his eyes. He wouldn't allow Jarlaxle to drive a wedge between them again by inspiring more doubts in the already uncertain human. But he bit back a retort when he felt Artemis' hand softly grasping his wrist to hold him back. The assassin let go only a second later, and his eyes never left Jarlaxle.

"Jarlaxle, I am -" he started after another pause, not exactly knowing what he was going to say. Words were not Entreri's strength, at least not when it came to talking about feelings. And even if he had been more eloquent in such situations, he knew that there was no excuse for his behaviour of the last days.

"You are a disappointment," Jarlaxle cut him short, his tone somewhere between angry and pained. "No better than any drow."

Artemis was struggling for words, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He wanted to apologise, to explain himself, to make that horrible expression on Jarlaxle's face go away, but he couldn't. Jarlaxle was right. Artemis had betrayed him, he had treated him worse than his greatest enemy - and certainly not like one should treat a friend.

The assassin just bit on his bottom lip and averted his eyes, feeling very much like a dog who got beaten by his master and who knew very well that he deserved that beating. He flinched when Jarlaxle approached him suddenly, completely ignoring Kimmuriel, and whispered in his ear, "I can only hope that he'll hurt you well and leave you bleeding on the floor once he's finished with you."

Jarlaxle halted for a moment, as if pondering what to do now, before he turned on his heel and left the room as quickly as he had entered it. Even after the door had been closed over a minute passed until Artemis and Kimmuriel stirred.

The drow took the human's hand again, laying his other hand on Artemis' cheek to turn his face and look him in the eyes. The numb, pained expression in them made Kimmuriel wince.

"Don't believe him, Artemis," he whispered quietly, caressing the human's cheek. Despite his tenderness his voice remained strict and calm, admonishing rather than comforting. "I won't hurt or leave you. You have made your choice; so have I. Don't think about him anymore."

Artemis blinked and sighed deeply. He didn't answer at first, as if he hadn't heard what the drow had said.

"Do you not understand? Jarlaxle was my friend, he did so much for me, and I did _this_ to him. I can't go on as if nothing had happened," he explained after a long pause, impatience in his voice. Artemis didn't notice how easily he called the drow his friend now after having rejected the very idea of friendship for most of his life.

"Your friend? His words today were hardly friendly, now were they?" Kimmuriel replied coldly. It annoyed him that Artemis was, or had been, so close to Jarlaxle. "What is your problem? Are you actually feeling guilty? I thought you were above such feelings."

"So now you think that I am weak because I care."

Artemis shook his head and turned away, not wanting to see Kimmuriel's almost self-righteous face right now. He had just lost his only friend through his own foolishness and lack of discipline, and Kimmuriel was hardly helping him with his cold rationality. Usually Artemis would have agreed that caring for someone was a weakness, but his friendship with Jarlaxle had changed his opinion on this quite a bit.

Realising that he was on the verge of ruining everything again, the psionicist forced himself to calm down and show some consideration.

"No. I'm just saying that it serves no purpose to think about him now, or to regret what you have done. You can't change it anymore."

"But I have to talk to him," Artemis looked again at Kimmuriel, his eyes almost pleading. How should they stay together if the drow was unable to understand him in such a crucial situation? "Now. I will return to you, but I need to talk to him first."

"You want me to wait here while you're apologising to him?" the drow asked incredulously. Artemis just nodded. Kimmuriel stared at him for several moments before he sighed and shook his head in resignation.

"I have really no idea why I am doing this," he mumbled while he sank on a chair. "Go, if you're convinced that you have to. Although I don't know what you're going to tell him, and I doubt that he'll listen."

Artemis made a face - as if _he_ knew what he was going to say. He quickly kissed Kimmuriel on the cheek, mumbling a "thank you" before he left the room and went down to the main room of the tavern. He could only hope that Jarlaxle hadn't just left without saying a word, but the innkeeper answered to his question that the drow had just taken another room in the tavern. At the same time relieved and anxious about the certainly awkward discussion that awaited him, the assassin made his way to Jarlaxle's room.

There was no answer at first when he knocked, but the door was opened after a minute by a decidedly weary looking Jarlaxle. Artemis couldn't get rid of the impression that the drow's eyes were even redder than usual, as if he had cried. Not wanting to talk about this on the corridor, the assassin just entered the room and waited until Jarlaxle had closed the door.

"If you want to apologise, or if you want to explain yourself, just go away. I'm tired of you," Jarlaxle said icily, staring at the human with hatred that was partly feigned, partly genuine. "I might have accepted that you prefer him to me, but nothing you could say can make me accept your betrayal."

"I don't want to justify anything I did, Jarlaxle, but I ... I wasn't myself. I wasn't reasonable," Artemis started, embarrassed by every single word that came out of his mouth and that sounded horribly hypocritical and inappropriate to him. Yet he had no idea what to say instead. He had told Jarlaxle that he didn't want Kimmuriel anymore, he had slept with him, he had given him hope although he had known all the time, somewhere inside of him, that the one he truly loved was Kimmuriel. As Jarlaxle had stated - nothing Artemis could say would change that or make it any more acceptable.

"I don't want to hear it, Artemis," Jarlaxle interrupted him. "This is over. Now go back to Kimmuriel. We don't want you to lose your friend and your lover at the same time, do we? You should enjoy his pretty body in your bed as long as he still wants you. Considering how broken you are he probably won't take long to grow tired of you. Tired of your constant bad humour, of your indecisiveness, of your ingratitude."

There was a flicker of cruel amusement in Jarlaxle's eyes, but Artemis could recognise that it was only faked, a desperate attempt to hurt him. Knowing this didn't change the fact that it was a successful attempt, for the assassin felt deeply wounded by Jarlaxle's words. It shocked him to see such coldness, such pain in his joyful companion, and he couldn't help but wonder if Jarlaxle hadn't been thinking of him as 'broken' all the time.

Utterly defeated, the human turned to leave, but before he could touch the door knob, Jarlaxle's last words finished him off.

"You were right about one thing, though," Jarlaxle said, pausing for a moment before he continued, "Only a fool would trust you."

Artemis froze in place, but he couldn't master the courage to answer or to turn around and face Jarlaxle. When he left the room his slumped, tired composure didn't even remind of the strength and confidence he usually radiated.

Kimmuriel was consequently worried when Artemis returned only a few minutes after he had left him. The drow stood up and went over to the assassin, softly grasping his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. Artemis' bottom lip trembled, and if it hadn't been for decades of self-discipline, he would have been incapable of holding back the tears.

"He didn't listen to you, did he?" Kimmuriel whispered, himself surprised that he was bothering to comfort someone who was so openly displaying his weakness. It didn't cease to amaze him how strong these feelings were, how strangely they made him act. Artemis' obvious distress worried Kimmuriel so much that he even managed to suppress his former anger.

"Maybe he will tomorrow, or in a few days," the drow said hesitantly in a somewhat clumsy try to offer comforting words. "I would definitely be more grateful for your attention than he is now."

Artemis looked at the drow and managed a strained grin, before he softly stroke Kimmuriel's cheek. Seeing the honest affection in Kimmuriel's eyes - though it would still have been invisible to a less attentive observer - his doubts were lifted. Kimmuriel still seemed uncertain and even volatile, as if some part of him continued to revolt against his feelings, but he had finally stopped playing games with the assassin.

Convinced that he had truly lost Jarlaxle's friendship Artemis recognised that he had to hold on to what he had now - and feelings or no feelings, Kimmuriel was definitely not patient enough to bear Artemis' self-hatred and desperation for the whole night.

Trying to banish every thought of Jarlaxle just like he had always suppressed painful thoughts, Artemis drew Kimmuriel closer to him and kissed him. Although he couldn't enjoy this kiss as completely as their first kiss of the evening, it still felt good and right to have 'his' drow in his arms.

Kimmuriel simply snuggled against him, returning the kiss with equal devotion. Artemis' and Jaraxle's dispute had been a rather fortunate incident in his eyes: He doubted that Artemis would two-time him again, and it relieved him that he didn't have to share the human's affection with Jarlaxle anymore.

The psionicist enjoyed their intimacy in silence for a while until he whispered, "Do you realise that we have spent only two nights together, and in one of them we did nothing but sleep in the same bed?"

It struck him as odd that so little had happened between them. It seemed to him as if a very long time had passed since the day he had decided to seduce Entreri - Entreri, not Artemis - just to torment him. But it had been only a few weeks, weeks in which they had more often insulted each other than they had shown their true feelings.

Artemis blinked and seemed to ponder this question, apparently just as surprised at this fact as Kimmuriel. Yet a small smile found its way soon enough to his features.

"And you want to change that tonight?" he asked, unsure how he should feel about this idea. Sure, he desired Kimmuriel, but he wasn't in a very passionate mood after his dispute with Jarlaxle. What he had done to his companion burdened him and prevented him from turning his attention completely to Kimmuriel.

The drow didn't bother to answer but simply pressed himself closer to Artemis and kissed him. He sensed the human's hesitation, yet he certainly didn't want to wait for such a longed-for night just because of troublesome Jarlaxle! The mercenary leader had pushed himself between them once already, and Kimmuriel wouldn't allow this to happen a second time. Artemis was his now, and the drow showed this claim again with a demanding kiss.

How could Artemis do anything else but respond?

Yet when they parted again, Artemis shook his head and gave Kimmuriel an apologising look.

"I can't," he said helplessly. "Not now."

Kimmuriel had difficulties to suppress his renewed anger. He felt the urge to go to Jarlaxle and rip his heart out for making this already unmanageable situation even more complicated, and he wanted to yell at Artemis to get his so-called friend out of his mind. But he knew by now that getting angry led to nothing with Artemis Entreri. And although being understanding and indulgent was completely against his nature, Kimmuriel wanted at all costs to stay with this human and make him feel better. If that meant waiting, then he had to wait for once. He was drow, after all: if he didn't get something by asking bluntly for it, he would try a more indirect approach.

"Then you should at least get a bit of rest and relax," he purred into Artemis' ear. The human didn't object this time and simply went over to his bed - a bed he had even an hour ago intended to share with Jarlaxle tonight. Trying to shake off this thought, Artemis put off his boots and lay down. He felt suddenly tired, exhausted from too many disputes and problems, from the gnawing guilt he had been immune to for most of his life.

Despite his bad conscience for maltreating Jarlaxle, he couldn't help but smile when Kimmuriel joined him in bed. Artemis put an arm around the drow's delicate body, once again delighted by the soft, smooth skin on his bare back. He noticed suddenly that Kimmuriel, like Jarlaxle, had almost no scars, unlike many drow males Artemis had seen in Menzoberranzan and whose backs were often covered with marks of countless beatings. And while Jarlaxle had, from what Artemis knew, led a rather unusual life, Kimmuriel had grown up in a normal drow House.

"Shouldn't you have scars?" Artemis mumbled, contemplating the drow thoughtfully.

Kimmuriel winced a bit at this question. This was hardly a subject he was fond of, but he wouldn't let an opportunity to divert Artemis from Jarlaxle pass by. Snuggling closer to the human and tenderly stroking his chest and abdomen - with not entirely innocent thoughts passing through his mind - he answered slowly, "The females of my former House were very picky, they didn't want any marred skin on their playthings. That's why they always made sure that even the worst beatings left no marks."

The psionicist sighed, but a smile crept on his lips when Artemis hugged him more tightly, offering a silent apology for starting such a touchy subject. Kimmuriel easily shrugged his gloomy memories away, focusing instead on Artemis.

The human was slowly relaxing beside him; his muscles became less tense when Kimmuriel continued to caress his taut body. The drow wasn't actually giving him a massage - he wouldn't lower himself so readily to what he considered a slave's task - but the caresses and simply the knowledge that he wasn't alone took a considerable amount of tension from Artemis.

Soon enough Artemis closed his eyes, and his dispute with Jarlaxle seemed more and more distant to him with Kimmuriel in his arms. He even got a bit sleepy after a while, and thus he didn't react immediately when the drow started to suck and nibble on his earlobe, without ceasing his slow, almost thoughtful strokes over the human's chest.

Kimmuriel took his time, not wanting to anger Artemis, but whatever the human's reason and conscience might tell him, his body definitely reacted to the nimble touches. Yet when his light, almost innocent caresses failed to push the reluctant human into action, Kimmuriel switched his tactic to obtain what he desired. If tenderness had worked perfectly to make Artemis relax, it needed more aggressiveness to get something in return. Kimmuriel hardly saw himself as tricking the human, but rather as helping him to get what he wanted anyway.

He thought for a moment before undressing completely, then he proceeded to open Artemis' trousers and slid one hand into them. When he looked up at Artemis, he saw that the human had opened his eyes again, and his gaze showed that he was torn between lust and principle. Kimmuriel halted for a moment, giving Artemis the most seducing and promising smile he could manage, and after long moments the human nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Wise choice," Kimmuriel growled quietly, though his voice was not in the least threatening, but simply teasing. The only answer he got was a snort. Determined to obtain more pleasant sounds from the human's lips, Kimmuriel nimbly freed him of his trousers. At first he contented himself with stroking Artemis' thighs, drawing small circles and lines on the sensitive skin, watching with a certain feeling of inner satisfaction that Artemis' body was promptly reacting.

Yet Kimmuriel hardly expected to coax much activity from Artemis tonight. He would probably play along, but nothing more. The drow even started to wonder if Artemis had maybe decided after their first night to simply remain the passive one in their relationship and let Kimmuriel lead.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Artemis was far from conceding anything to Kimmuriel; he was simply enjoying the handjob he was getting. He realised that he was quickly giving over control from his mind to his body, but considering that his mind was torturing him with questions and accusations, following the simple, unambiguous demands of his body was very tempting. Usually he would try to resist that temptation, but his situation was far from usual, as were Kimmuriel's skills. How should any man remain reasonable under these hands?

When the drow pressed his naked body against Artemis', provokingly grinding his hips into the human's and placing teasing kisses on his cheek, some parts of Artemis' brain were simply switched off. He took the drow completely by surprise and grabbed him almost roughly, pushing him on his back. Kimmuriel was too dumbfounded for a moment to respond to the human's demanding kisses, but he was too aroused himself to ask any questions about this sudden change of mind. The only thing that mattered was the pleasure these strong hands and warm lips gave him.

Kimmuriel was amazed by this outburst of passion from the usually so restrained man, who had even in their previous shared night seemed to hold himself back. Whatever pretence of self-discipline Artemis had tried to hold up was forgotten now.

He kissed the drow almost brutally, pinning his slender body under him. His right arm was slung around Kimmuriel's waist, the fingers of his left hand entangled themselves with white, long hair. Kimmuriel was eager to return this passion just as furiously, digging his fingers in Artemis' shoulders and back. He enjoyed the feeling of the human's twitching muscles under the hot skin that became fast damp with sweat.

Kimmuriel finally broke their kiss and gasped for air when Artemis' lips slid down to his throat, nibbling and sucking at the skin. Growing increasingly impatient the drow grabbed a hand full of black hair and tried to push Artemis further down without thinking much of it. Yet even in his passionate state the human wouldn't pleasure anyone with his mouth, and although he took some time to kiss and lick Kimmuriel's smooth chest, he freed himself from the drow's grasp and halted for a moment, simply out of breath.

Artemis arched an eyebrow when Kimmuriel groaned in frustration and bucked against him. He tried to think of a teasing remark, but his mind was too clouded to come up with anything witty.

He propped himself up and flipped the drow. Kimmuriel struggled only briefly, but he was held down by strong arms. In his current state he had no use for pride anymore and growled simply, when he felt Artemis' hesitation, "In a pocket in my _piwafwi_."

Kimmuriel looked back over his shoulder to see Artemis get up and grab the drow's cloak, rummaging impatiently in it until he found what he sought. He smirked slightly and lay back, closing his eyes and telling himself that all he had to do was to relax and enjoy. It seemed strange to him that he had found this rather pleasant prospect so repulsive before.

Despite his former passion and almost brutal impatience, Artemis grew now rather considerate. Never one to hurt his lovers the human placed tender kisses on Kimmuriel's shoulders, softly rubbing his back and sides to make the drow relax - a surprisingly easy task now that Kimmuriel had stopped struggling. Artemis then opened the small vial of oil - wondering for a second if it was some strange drow habit to carry a lubricant around with them all the time - and quickly moistened his fingers.

He smiled in anticipation, taking in the sight of Kimmuriel's lean, sweaty body, shivering with lust. Without further ado he started to prepare the drow, swiftly, but carefully. Kimmuriel flinched and clutched the sheets below him tighter for a second before he relaxed again, moaning when another finger slid into him. Artemis' left hand lay firmly on the drow's hip, holding him down when Kimmuriel tried to buck up. It gave Artemis some satisfaction to see the once so arrogant, controlled drow in such a state of need, physically begging for what he had refused to endure until then.

Yet Kimmuriel's low, soft moans sent shivers through Artemis' body and urged him to act instead of simply watching the drow, no matter how beautiful this sight was. He quickly withdrew his fingers, eliciting a complaining growl from Kimmuriel, and straddled him, supporting his own weight with one hand.

Artemis closed his eyes and entered him in a swift motion, unable to suppress a loud groan. He forced himself to pause for a moment, but when Kimmuriel didn't show the slightest sign of pain he abandoned all restraint, giving in to the physical pleasure that left no place for further thoughts. Sneaking one hand around Kimmuriel's body Artemis started to stroke him firmly, and his efforts were rewarded with delightful sighs.

His world was reduced to the feeling of the sweating body below him, accompanied only by moans he couldn't even identify anymore as his own or Kimmuriel's. Artemis didn't withdraw immediately after a last, deep thrust that sent waves of satisfaction through his body, but nuzzled against the drow's back. His hand continued to pleasure Kimmuriel, returning the satisfaction the drow had given him.

He felt Kimmuriel tense and shiver in his arms before the drow finally relaxed and went completely limp, his face buried in a pillow. Artemis continued to caress him for a few moments before he rolled himself to the side and sank on his back, too exhausted to draw Kimmuriel to him.

When they parted Artemis felt almost empty, his doubts and pain still gone, but the passion that had replaced them had left him as well. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, though, rather a liberating one.

The void was filled after only a few minutes with a comforting warmth when Kimmuriel turned around and laid his lips on his, kissing him gently. Artemis wrapped an arm around the drow's sweaty, now slightly trembling body and pulled him close.

Kimmuriel inhaled the scent of the human's sweat - a scent that didn't bother him anymore. Quite the contrary, he associated it now with the most appreciated feeling of Artemis' body next to his.

Artemis was quickly getting sleepy, and as Kimmuriel seemed to be entirely satisfied as well, the human didn't try to force himself to remain awake. He placed a last kiss on the drow's hair before he closed his eyes. Kimmuriel stayed awake for a little longer, dreamily contemplating the assassin.

The drow knew he should feel alarmed that he had given himself so completely to Artemis, but instead he was fully at peace. Maybe because he had finally stopped thinking of his lover as 'some human', as _iblith_. It was simply Artemis now.

Kimmuriel was calmer than he had been in a long time, and judging by the relaxed look on Artemis' face the human's feelings mirrored his. The drow sighed contently and nuzzled against the other's strong chest, closing his eyes as well and fast drifting in a dreamless, reposing sleep.

They finally had what they had longed for. Something that could hardly be said about Jarlaxle.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

It was still dark outside when Kimmuriel woke Artemis, whispering his name and stroking his cheek. The assassin's eyes opened immediately, and although his gaze was perfectly clear and not sleepy, he was obviously confused by this early disturbance.

"What is it?" Artemis asked quietly. He furrowed his brow when he noticed that Kimmuriel had already dressed again.

"Nothing you should be worried about," the drow answered in an unusually soft voice, still caressing the human. "I just have to leave now. I can't stay away from Menzoberranzan for too long, it would raise suspicions. But I'll return to you in the evening."

Artemis' confused expression turned into an annoyed scowl, but his disappointment was quickly chased away by his reason. Of course, Kimmuriel had an organisation to lead, he couldn't stay at Artemis' side as long as he wanted. The human found to his surprise that he did indeed believe Kimmuriel - he was convinced that the psionicist would be back in the evening, and that he wouldn't change his mind again until then.

The assassin nodded slowly and placed a light kiss on Kimmuriel's lips instead of answering. The drow smiled, and he didn't get up immediately, but nuzzled again to his lover, sighing contently.

"I think I can stay another minute or two," he explained when he felt Artemis' questioning gaze. "What are you going to do later?"

"Sleep," Artemis replied curtly. He knew exactly what Kimmuriel meant, but he really didn't want to talk about that right now. Yet the drow didn't look like he was going to drop the subject, and the assassin found himself answering correctly before Kimmuriel could get angry. "I suppose I'll try again to talk to Jarlaxle."

"Why? You don't have more to say than yesterday, and he's just as hurt. Why should he listen?" the drow snorted, pressing himself even closer to Artemis, as if he needed to show his claim on him.

"I have no idea," Artemis sighed, pain audible in his voice. The thought of what he had done to Jarlaxle still haunted him, and somehow he _missed_ his friend. He missed his annoying jokes and whims, he missed their banter. He hadn't even known until then how important Jarlaxle had become to him, how used he was to his presence. "But I can't just stay in my room and expect him to come here. I need to know what he is going to do. He'll probably leave me here and travel on alone. I can't blame him."

"Then let him go. Why are you so attached to him? You don't need him anymore," Kimmuriel argued, hurt by Artemis' sad tone. The assassin shouldn't be sad, but happy, now that he had Kimmuriel!

"He's my friend. Nothing more," Artemis quickly added when he saw Kimmuriel's scowl deepening, before he added firmly, "And nothing less. I can't give up my only friend so easily. I don't expect you to understand that; I wouldn't have understood it myself a few weeks ago."

Kimmuriel would never admit it, but he did understand, at least in a way. Hadn't Rai-Guy been as close to a friend to him as a drow could be? They had liked each other, even trusted each other, and Kimmuriel had supported Rai-Guy although he disapproved of his plans concerning Crenshinibon. Back then, he had tried to justify his actions reasonably - telling himself that Jarlaxle needed to be put aside, and that the crystal shard might indeed be a useful tool - but to be honest, he simply hadn't wanted to lose his only friend, just like Artemis didn't want to lose Jarlaxle. But the difference was that Kimmuriel had had no one else but Rai-Guy, while Artemis had Kimmuriel.

"If you insist," the drow replied simply, not wanting to start another quarrel with the human. He was tired of disputes with the man he loved, and tired of any thoughts about Jarlaxle. "Where will you go if he leaves?"

Artemis shrugged, looking almost helpless. Jarlaxle had always been the one to decide where they were going, what they were doing; Artemis had no goal of his own. He didn't have the slightest idea what he should do without Jarlaxle dragging him along on his adventures.

"You could come to Menzoberranzan," Kimmuriel suggested without thinking about it. He realised the moment he said it that this hadn't been a good idea. Even with Kimmuriel's protection, the human would have a hard time in the drow city, and there was the risk that someone might learn about their relationship. Kimmuriel suddenly remembered a conversation between Artemis and Jarlaxle he had overheard in Calimport, when the human had said that his time in Menzoberranzan had been the worst of his life.

Indeed, Artemis was growing even paler at these words, while his eyes flared almost angrily. Kimmuriel quickly kissed him and got up before the human could answer.

"I really have to go now. But you should think about it; you can't do nothing just because your partnership with Jarlaxle has ended," he stated matter-of-factly. He kissed Artemis again, softly urging for a response to be sure that the human wouldn't spend the day being angry at him. It was only when Artemis had returned the kiss that Kimmuriel finally drew back and summoned a psionic gate to return to Menzoberranzan.

Artemis sank back on the bed, a desperate sigh on his lips. He was tired - it was still over an hour before sunrise - but his mind was far too restless now to let him fall asleep again. All the problems he had refused to think about on the previous evening were assaulting him again, and this time there was no way to escape them.

He knew that he had no choice but to go to Jarlaxle, yet it was obvious that every conversation would be futile. As Jarlaxle had put it, this was over. _This_. Their friendship, their partnership, their time together. But Artemis realised that he didn't want it to be over. Although he had cursed Jarlaxle over and over again when they had worked together, although he had often wished to get rid of the annoying drow some day, the thought of spending the rest of his life without Jarlaxle was unbearable.

And even without the fact that they had truly become friends, Artemis simply had no idea what to do with his life. He had followed Jarlaxle for several months now, and he couldn't imagine travelling alone as a mercenary, nor did he want to settle somewhere and work for some guild or local criminal. He was stuck in a small town on the coast, a place he had never really wanted to go to, and without any place in the world that would welcome him.

Except Menzoberranzan. Or, more precisely, Kimmuriel, because Menzoberranzan would still treat him as _iblith_. Artemis had sworn that he would never again set a foot in that cursed city, for any reason. He couldn't have known back then that he would ever fall in love with a drow, but even that didn't make Menzoberranzan any more inviting. No, he'd rather stay alone and aimless on the surface than return to this hell and endure countless humiliations.

Artemis groaned quietly and buried his face in the pillows, inhaling Kimmuriel's scent that still lingered there. If the drow would only be more helpful! But Artemis understood that Kimmuriel had no interest in a reconciliation between his lover and Jarlaxle, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway. Nonetheless comforted by the memory of Kimmuriel in his arms, Artemis drifted into an uneasy sleep after a while.

* * *

When Kimmuriel returned to his quarters in Menzoberranzan, he took a quick bath and got dressed, knowing that any lingering human smell on his body might be perceived by some attentive drow - and the last thing he needed were rumours that he had a fancy for human slaves.

Nobody who saw him leave his quarters could have guessed that Kimmuriel had just spent the whole night with his lover: his face was the same callous mask as always, his eyes showed - if any emotion at all - detached cruelty. Yet the few soldiers he met on the way to his office seemed strangely uneasy in his presence, and it was obvious that something was wrong. The usually silent drow soldiers were whispering to each other, and their voices grew louder and more agitated when they saw the psionicist. Kimmuriel was just wondering if he should simply read their minds to find out what had happened when one of his lieutenants walked up to him.

"Captain," he called, bowing as usually, but seeming just as embarrassed as the lesser soldiers. He stood before Kimmuriel, hesitating, obviously unsure what to say. A threatening glare from the psionicist was, however, enough to make him talk.

"Jarlaxle returned a few hours ago; he wishes to speak to you in his office," the lieutenant blurted out quickly, looking wide-eyed at Kimmuriel as if he was expecting the psionicist to throw a tantrum then and there.

Despite centuries of self-discipline, Kimmuriel just stared at the other drow, taken aback and speechless. Had he been human, he would have probably turned pale.

"What do you mean, he 'returned'?" he asked finally, still dumbfounded.

"Well, he used some magic item to come here and he told us that he had grown tired of the surface. There was no reason for us to refuse him entrance," the lieutenant answered quietly. He had supported Rai-Guy and Kimmuriel during their revolt against Jarlaxle, but he was - like most Bregan D'aerthe soldiers - convinced that their leader's erratic, unreasonable behaviour had been caused by this crystal shard. Now that the item had been destroyed, Jarlaxle was probably again as cunning and sensible as before, and Bregan D'aerthe had always gained much from their leader.

Kimmuriel knew all this, and he knew that Jarlaxle had never cut his bonds with his band. It was common knowledge among Bregan D'aerthe that Jarlaxle had planned to come back one day, and few soldiers would be stupid enough to oppose him upon his return.

After several seconds, Kimmuriel just turned away and passed the lieutenant, walking towards Jarlaxle's office. The guards let him pass, and the fact that he was at least safe from curious looks once the door had closed behind him didn't reassure him in the least.

Jarlaxle was sitting behind his enormous desk, rocking on his chair and looking through some papers. His smile was so wide that he seemed just as good-humoured and untouchable as ever, and even knowing what had happened, Kimmuriel couldn't detect any crack in Jarlaxle's mask. The psionicist just stood in front of the desk, still stunned and confused. He wasn't sure what he had expected Jarlaxle to do, but the thought that his former leader might just return to Menzoberranzan and reclaim Bregan D'aerthe had never crossed his mind.

"Ah, Kimmuriel," Jarlaxle said finally, looking up and giving him his sweetest smile. "How good that you are back, we need to talk."

"Why are you here?" Kimmuriel asked stiffly, his hands clenching to fists at his sides. He felt his anger and hatred build up, and it took him much self-control to refrain from attacking Jarlaxle right then and there. This cursed lunatic had obviously decided to make his life a living hell, by seducing his human, by making Artemis so unhappy when he should be content, and now by returning to Bregan D'aerthe at the most inconvenient moment. And he had the audacity to smile at him as if nothing had happened, smile this hypocritical, infuriating smile!

"Why not? I told you that I'd return one day for co-leadership," Jarlaxle explained with faked surprise. "And as my former reason to stay on the surface has become an unbearable nuisance, this is a very good time to return. Of course, given the events of the last weeks, co-leading Bregan D'aerthe is hardly an option anymore. I am sure you understand that you will have to leave."

"You are throwing me out?" Kimmuriel asked, not because he hadn't understood Jarlaxle, but because he needed a moment to fully realise the consequences of this decision. As a houseless rogue, he needed Bregan D'aerthe to survive in Menzoberranzan. If Jarlaxle threw him out, Kimmuriel would have to leave the city.

"If you want to put it that way - yes," Jarlaxle replied, his voice now much colder, as if he was unable to keep his friendly mask on for too long. "You should thank me; you'll have more time for your little whore that way."

"Watch it," Kimmuriel snarled, glaring at Jarlaxle, who was still trying to uphold his relaxed expression. He almost looked as if he was just mocking Kimmuriel, but the pain and anger in his uncovered eye were plainly visible now, and his voice was bitter. Kimmuriel was almost trembling with anger, partly because Jarlaxle dared to send him away, but also because he insulted Artemis. Had Kimmuriel been more self-reflective in that moment, he would have been surprised that this outraged him so much.

"Or what? You are hardly in a position to fight me, Kimmuriel. I am a better leader than you, and every soldier here knows that. They supported you when I was acting unreasonably, but they remember very well that Bregan D'aerthe needs me, or it will decline to an average mercenary band. You would have to face me alone, and that would leave our poor Entreri deprived of his dear lover. We don't want that, do we?"

"Nobody here has forgotten the disaster in Calimport," Kimmuriel retorted, trying to remain reasonable instead of giving in to his hatred.

"I have enough supporters in Bregan D'aerthe," Jarlaxle said nonchalantly, but the strained expression never left his eyes. "You didn't really think that you were my only contact during the last months, did you? I assure you, I saw quite a few happy faces when I returned."

"This is nothing but a petty act of revenge. You can't bear the thought of not getting what you want, that's all. You're pathetic," the psionicist shot back, on the verge of losing his temper. The worst thing was that Jarlaxle was actually right. No matter what had happened in Calimport, Bregan D'aerthe had remained Jarlaxle's band, and Kimmuriel had been, for many soldiers, only Jarlaxle's replacement, but not a leader in his own right.

"Am I? Well, I'm not the one who is going to spend the rest of his life on the surface with a grumpy, unbearable human. You will probably realise soon enough that Entreri is plainly detestable if you spend much time with him," Jarlaxle said in what was supposed to be a casual tone, but his voice trembled slightly. It hurt him as much to say these words as it hurt Kimmuriel to hear them.

"Now, unless you are keen on settling this by force, you'd better leave. If you return to Menzoberranzan, I'll make sure that you will be put out of the way."

Kimmuriel hesitated for a moment, but he knew that he could not fight Jarlaxle - not alone and without any preparation, while Jarlaxle could call several soldiers in a matter of seconds. There was no loyalty among drow, and the fact that his leadership had been accepted during the last months didn't mean that any soldier would risk his life to defend said leadership. Kimmuriel had no choice but to leave - for now.

"You will regret this," the psionicist hissed, lingering for a moment on the prospect of making Jarlaxle's eyes explode in his head. Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and left the room, feeling like he would kill anyone who dared to look at him too curiously.

* * *

For the second time this morning, Artemis was wakened - not by kisses, but by angry curses. He opened his eyes wearily to see Kimmuriel stepping through the bluish gate and dismissing it with a thought. The drow's red eyes were flaring with anger, his slender body was trembling as if it could hardly retain his rage. Kimmuriel just stood in the middle of the room, suddenly silent and staring at Artemis.

The human got up in a swift motion and went over to Kimmuriel, looking him in the eyes without touching him. He didn't say anything, but preferred to wait for him to speak.

"I'm going to kill Jarlaxle," Kimmuriel finally spat out, his voice more venomous than it had ever been when the drow had mocked Artemis in the past. This one sentence made Artemis shiver and he backed off one step, not out of fear, but out of surprise. After all, Kimmuriel had been so calm and happy barely two hours ago.

"I'm sick of him, of his meddling with my life! I'm sick of your talking about him, I'm sick of seeing him, and I'm going to make sure that he won't ever bother me again!" the drow continued, and his voice left no doubt that he meant every word.

"What happened?" Artemis asked as calmly as he could manage. Kimmuriel's words worried him, but he needed to know what had happened before he could try to dissuade the drow from his plans.

"He threw me out, that is what happened! He returned to Menzoberranzan yesterday evening and now he told me to leave, to stay on the surface or he would have me killed. He's gone too far now, and he'll pay for it," Kimmuriel said, his voice a bit lower now, but no less angry.

Artemis just stared at him, as dumbfounded as Kimmuriel himself had been upon the news of Jarlaxle's return to Bregan D'aerthe. He opened and closed his mouth several times without saying a word, and nearly a minute passed before he spoke again.

"You couldn't possibly live on the surface," Artemis whispered, too taken aback to say anything more intelligent. He could perfectly understand Kimmuriel on this point, though: being on the surface was probably the same for Kimmuriel as being in the Underdark for Artemis.

"Most certainly not. I won't allow Jarlaxle to stand in my way anymore. He's already caused me too much trouble!"

"Don't kill him," Artemis said suddenly, his eyes almost pleading. Understanding Kimmuriel's anger didn't change anything about the fact that the thought of Jarlaxle's death made Artemis feel sick.

"Are you still defending him? Do you know what he called you? He said you were my 'little whore'. Now these are truly a friend's words, no?" Kimmuriel's anger suddenly seemed directed at the human. "Damn it, Artemis, open your eyes! Jarlaxle isn't your friend anymore. Currently he is what keeps us apart! I thought you had made your choice."

"I have," the assassin replied, biting down his bottom lip. _Little whore _- he couldn't even imagine Jarlaxle saying that, let alone saying it about him. But neither did he believe that Kimmuriel was lying to him. "But that doesn't mean that I want him dead. There must be some way to settle this without ... killing him. Just give me some time to think about it instead of moving against him immediately. Maybe he will change his mind."

Kimmuriel's eyes remained hard and uncompromising, until Artemis added softly, "Please." He felt the assassin's hand taking his, and then a slightly stubbly cheek rubbing against his, comforting, calming, reassuring.

"And what am I to do while you think about it?" the drow asked with a sigh, leaning against Artemis. He felt suddenly very weak: as his anger was dissipating, the reality of this bleak situation crashed down on him. Jarlaxle had taken everything from him; the only thing he had left right now was this human he had once despised and who was now holding him in his arms, more tenderly than anyone else had ever done.

He didn't get an answer - probably because Artemis had no answer to this question. Remaining silent, the assassin pressed Kimmuriel to his chest, stroking his hair and his back, trying to calm him and lead his thoughts away from Jarlaxle.

Soon enough he had a slightly trembling, unnerved drow in his arms, who seemed so weak that Artemis wondered if he would simply slump on the ground without any help. Seeing the drow so desperate, the assassin felt suddenly angry himself, angry at Jarlaxle, who was causing Kimmuriel so much pain. For a moment, he hated Jarlaxle for punishing Kimmuriel for Artemis' choice, and even the thought that killing Jarlaxle might not be such a bad thing crossed his mind.

Yet it was only a very short moment before all his good memories of Jarlaxle returned, and he reminded himself that Jarlaxle had been the one who had comforted him when Kimmuriel had only played with him, and that Jarlaxle suffered most now. No, they couldn't kill him, there had to be another way. Another way to make Kimmuriel's return to Bregan D'aerthe possible, but also a way to reconcile Artemis and Jarlaxle.

While he was lost in his thoughts, caressing Kimmuriel the whole time, the drow found to himself again, locking up his anger and his fear behind his usual calm expression. He looked up hesitantly and stroke Artemis' cheek.

"What now?" he asked, his voice more composed than before, but there was still a slight note of anxiety and helplessness in it. Facing the idea that he might have to live on the 'surface for at least some time, Kimmuriel was suddenly much less self-assured than usual.

"We can stay here for the next days, if you want," Artemis replied just as hesitantly. "I doubt that you want to discover the surface."

"No, I'd like to get prepared to turn this annoying bastard into a bloody pulp, but I suppose that I have to wait a few days until you've talked to him," Kimmuriel said in a perfectly even voice. "You should start thinking before my patience is wearing thin."

Artemis didn't answer, but turned away and sat down on the bed, burying his face in his hands. Kimmuriel hadn't said it explicitly, but he had thought it, and Artemis knew that he was right: whatever he, or they, might try to do, Jarlaxle's decision probably wouldn't change, and Kimmuriel could probably not be dissuaded permanently from attacking the mercenary leader. The idea that two men, two drow would kill each other because of him seemed more and more absurd to Artemis, but the whole events of the last weeks had been absurd. Absurd and painful, but at least nobody had died so far. And if Artemis could do anything about that, it would stay this way. He didn't want to found his relationship with Kimmuriel on Jarlaxle's corpse.

Kimmuriel sat down next to him, taking his hand and leaning against him. They were silent for a while, each of them lost in thoughts, until the drow whispered, "You will see, Artemis, everything will be alright once Jarlaxle is dead. Nobody will bother us anymore. I will return to Menzoberranzan, and you can come with me, or stay here if you prefer. I'll make sure that nobody will annoy you down there."

Artemis shook his head, but he didn't shy away from Kimmuriel's caresses. After everything Jarlaxle had done for him, the human refused to be responsible for his death.

"You can't have both of us, not anymore. Jarlaxle won't forgive either of us. As long as he lives, he is not only in my way, but also in yours," Kimmuriel continued, his voice soft and almost urging.

"Stop trying to manipulate me," Artemis said calmly, looking at the psionicist. "I got your point, but I need to try at least to find another solution instead of killing him right away."

"Don't be a fool, Artemis. There is no other solution!"

The assassin didn't answer this time, knowing that Kimmuriel was right. Yet he knew also that Jarlaxle could be, despite his harsh words, quite gentle and understanding, at least towards Artemis. Even though Artemis usually refused to cling to foolish hopes, he couldn't bring himself to accept Kimmuriel's plan. Still, he had no idea how to get through to Jarlaxle's more gentle side after everything that had happened. He had to try, though, if he didn't want Kimmuriel to kill Jarlaxle - or, even worse, to die trying.


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N: I apologise for keeping you waiting for so long. The situation had become so tangled that I really didn't know what to do, and the search for a solution took much more time than I had expected. But now here it is: the last chapter. I won't write an epilogue, so this is really the ending. Enjoy. ;)

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

The following day was probably the strangest and most uncomfortable of Artemis' - and Kimmuriel's - life. The drow was as restless as a caged animal, pacing through the room and cursing whenever he wasn't in meditation to prepare the fight he thought inevitable. Artemis was plainly miserable. He tried desperately to think of another solution for their situation - a solution that wouldn't end with either Kimmuriel's or Jarlaxle's death.

He hardly managed to restrain Kimmuriel, whose cold facade had given way to barely controlled anger and hatred. The psionicist wanted to get rid of Jarlaxle as quickly as possible. He wanted Bregan D'aerthe back, and he wanted to be sure that Artemis would never again betray him - although he certainly wouldn't admit the latter to his lover. The human tried to gain time, hoping that both Kimmuriel and Jarlaxle would calm down and find a more sensible outcome.

The smile that appeared on Artemis' lips when he thought of the tender moments he had shared with Kimmuriel was therefore not without bitterness. They were both more at peace with each other than ever, but Artemis knew that this would not last. Not as long as the conflict with Jarlaxle had not been solved.

The assassin startled when he heard Kimmuriel stand up after he had spent another hour lost in his plotting. Yet Artemis didn't turn around and just continued to look out of the window.

"You are lying to yourself, Artemis," the drow stated, staring at Artemis' back. "You know there is no other way. We have all made our choices, and there can be no peace between our decision and Jarlaxle's."

"Do you think I will stay with you if you kill him?" Artemis asked and finally turned around, glaring at the drow. Kimmuriel seemed surprised, but anger quickly returned into his eyes.

"You chose me over him. I will go insane if I stay here. I _need_ to return to Menzoberranzan! Getting rid of Jarlaxle is the only way for us to stay together."

Artemis sighed. He knew how right Kimmuriel was, but he could not hate Jarlaxle, despite his hard words during their last meeting. Jarlaxle was certainly not without fault, but he was still rather a victim here, and Artemis felt guilty for what he had done to him. He loved Kimmuriel - although he would never use this ridiculous word himself - but he doubted that he could accept to stay with the man who had killed his only friend.

"Artemis," Kimmuriel whispered, stepping closer towards the human and softly caressing his cheek. Artemis leaned in his touch, biting on his lip to suppress a pathetic, hopeless plea to make the drow change his mind.

Kimmuriel kissed Artemis, nuzzling against his strong body, hoping that his touch would calm the hesitating, troubled human.

"Do you want me to stay for another few hours before I return to Menzoberranzan?" the drow whispered in a seductive voice.

Artemis refused to look at him. He was hardly in the mood for such games now, but what if Kimmuriel did not return? Jarlaxle was a formidable foe, even for the powerful psionicist. Artemis didn't dare to remind the drow of this - Kimmuriel was arrogant, but nonetheless aware of Jarlaxle's power. There was no reason to provoke the drow now.

But if Kimmuriel died, Artemis would certainly regret to have wasted the last hours he could spend with him. And he knew Kimmuriel well enough by now to be sure that the drow would make him forget his troubles for a while.

"Stay," he answered, his voice hardly audible, yet he knew that Kimmuriel would hear - or at least feel - him. He shoved the drow to the bed and pushed him onto it, following him immediately.

* * *

Artemis woke up a few hours later - after they had rested - when Kimmuriel stirred in his arms. The drow seemed determined to leave now. He quickly got up, ignoring Artemis' sigh, and dressed, checking carefully that he had all of his magical items. When he turned around to look at Artemis, the assassin stared at him with cold, grey eyes.

"I will be back soon," Kimmuriel promised confidently. Artemis snorted - what pleasure would he feel to see Kimmuriel again, knowing that his lover had killed Jarlaxle? Was this not the last time he could look at Kimmuriel without hating him?

"Do you want me to defeat him, or would you prefer my death to his?" Kimmuriel asked in a sudden fit of anger.

"I do not want him to kill you, and you know that," Artemis answered icily. The drow's features softened, and he bent down to kiss the human - a kiss that was willingly returned, but it still seemed strangely bitter and sad. It was almost a goodbye, for even if Kimmuriel returned, their relationship would be once again put to the test.

Kimmuriel opened his mouth, but whatever it was he had wanted to say, he kept it to himself. After a last glance at Artemis he opened a gate to Menzoberranzan and stepped through it. As Jarlaxle had said, this could only be settled by force.

Artemis stayed in bed, not because he expected to find any further rest, but because he couldn't bring himself to get up. As if it mattered. He didn't even know what he wanted to happen, which outcome he preferred. He was feeling sick and confused, and he longed desperately to be back in Kimmuriel's arms, without any worries on his mind.

His conscience told him that he should have gone with Kimmuriel and tried to keep them from fighting, but he doubted that the psionicist would have accepted that. It would have been vain, anyway, and Artemis knew that he couldn't have stood to watch either of them die. He could only hope no that Kimmuriel would prevail - and that he would be able to forgive him.

* * *

Kimmuriel stumbled when another lightning bolt hit him, followed by several throwing daggers that embedded themselves in his torso. His psionic defences had collapsed under Jarlaxle's continuous assault, and Kimmuriel was in too much pain to concentrate and rebuild his defences, let alone to attack.

The next blast from Jarlaxle's lightning wand made Kimmuriel's legs give in under him, and he tumbled to the ground. For all self-discipline, he couldn't make his battered body obey and get up again. His mind was numb, too unfocused to use psionical powers that were his only weapon.

The loud steps of heavy boots, accompanied by jingling jewellery made his headache worse. When the noise stopped, Kimmuriel looked up to see Jarlaxle standing beside him - tired and dishevelled from a long fight, but unharmed despite the injuries the psionicist had managed to inflict upon him. He had obviously drunk a healing potion since Kimmuriel had fallen down.

Jarlaxle didn't move, he just stared down at the wounded psionicist.

"Finish it," the younger drow hissed, painfully aware that the fight was over, that he had no hope for victory left. All he wanted was to stop the pain.

"Giving up already?" Jarlaxle asked, trying to sound cheerful, but his voice was strained and hard. "And here I had an offer for you."

"There is nothing I can give you, so how could we possibly strike a deal?" Kimmuriel asked weakly. He didn't expect any sensible offer from Jarlaxle, but his survival instincts asked that he took every possible opportunity.

"You are the best lieutenant I have, and you are perfectly familiar with the latest intrigues. You are useful, and I wouldn't want to do without you. As my lieutenant, of course, not as my co-leader," Jarlaxle explained. His feelings were perfectly masked behind his trademark pragmatism, as if Jarlaxle had decided to solve this conflict on a purely intellectual level. Kimmuriel wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or worried. Probably both.

"State your terms," the psionicist demanded, finally remembering who and what he was: a drow, and a particularly callous one on top of that. He needed to save his life now; in such a moment, there was no place for feelings and principles. The small bottle - certainly a healing potion - that Jarlaxle pulled out of a pocket was a clear reminder of this.

"I heal you, and you will once again be my lieutenant, just like before our journey to Calimport. You work for me like before - not against me. If I learn that you are using your position to take your revenge on me, our deal has ended," Jarlaxle explained matter-of-factly. He wasn't afraid of Kimmuriel: their fight had shown that he could beat him, and Jarlaxle knew that Kimmuriel was, feelings or no feelings, most of all a pragmatist.

"You take me back in," Kimmuriel snorted, intrigued despite himself. "And what do I have to do to earn this generous gift?"

"You will leave Entreri," Jarlaxle ordered, his voice suddenly cold and almost aggressive. Kimmuriel stared at him, not believing what he had just heard. He was so surprised that he even managed to fight down his pain for a moment.

"You can't be thinking that he will return to you. He chose me and - "

"I do not want him back," Jarlaxle cut him short. "I don't want to see him ever again, not even to hear of him. But he won't be yours. I want him to be alone, I want him to suffer what he made me suffer. I want him to know for the rest of his miserable life that I took away his happiness."

If Kimmuriel had had any strength left in his body and mind he would have lashed out at Jarlaxle for these words. It had been so hard for him to recognise his feelings for Artemis, to gain the human's trust after everything he had done to him. And now that they had finally found a bit of peace together Jarlaxle asked him to leave Artemis, to destroy what they had built up so painfully.

How could Kimmuriel accept this offer? How could he live without Artemis now that he had tasted the sweetness of trust and intimacy?

The pain in his body, however, reminded him immediately of the fact that his life - with Artemis or without him - would end in a few minutes if nobody healed him.

The psionicist closed his eyes, his slender hands clenched into fists. _There is no freedom, only survival._ It was a principle he had lived by for centuries - it was the only reason he was still alive, unlike the rest of his House, unlike Rai-Guy.

What worth were hopes and feelings when they got him killed?

It took Kimmuriel hardly more than a few minutes to make up his mind. He opened his eyes again and looked up at Jarlaxle, who was waiting patiently. Kimmuriel slowly stretched out his trembling hand and said in a voice that almost failed him, "Agreed."

Jarlaxle grinned, but his usually amused expression was simply bitter and cruel now. He gave Kimmuriel the bottle and watched as the psionicist drank the potion. They countless burns and stabs on Kimmuriel's body quickly healed, and he staggered only slightly when he got up.

As soon as the pain in his body gradually disappeared, the desperation in Kimmuriel's eyes was replaced by hatred and anger. But they both knew that the younger drow wasn't going to attack Jarlaxle again - he valued his life too much.

"You can return to Artemis to tell him of your decision, but don't take too much time to say farewell. I want you back before evening for a full report on Bregan D'aerthe's latest involvement," Jarlaxle explained coldly before he turned around and walked towards his office. It was only when the door was safely closed behind him, when he was alone and undisturbed by curious gazes, that Jarlaxle allowed his carefully suppressed feelings to resurface again.

He sank on his chair and cried.

He hadn't been surprised when Kimmuriel had returned and challenged him for leadership of Bregan D'aerthe. Jarlaxle had been prepared for the fight, and although Kimmuriel mastered several powers that even Jarlaxle's defences, like his eye-patch, couldn't completely fend off, the mercenary leader had never doubted that he would defeat his lieutenant. Kimmuriel was powerful and intelligent, but so was Jarlaxle, and the mercenary leader was better equipped with magical items, and he was far more experienced than the younger drow.

While Jarlaxle had waited for Kimmuriel to return, he had initially planned to kill his rival, maybe even torture and humiliate him. But his pragmatism had quickly defeated his thirst for revenge - Kimmuriel was indeed incredibly useful ... and making Kimmuriel leave Entreri would probably be even more painful for the human than Kimmuriel's death.

Jarlaxle had been content with his plan, he had hoped to find some consolation in the misery he would inflict on the man who had betrayed him and on his rival. But here he sat, crying, trembling, and probably just as miserable as Kimmuriel and Artemis.

He had never really wanted to hurt Artemis, he still liked him. Of course, he was disappointed and grieved, and he knew that he could never accept what his former partner had done to him, but for all his hatred and pain he couldn't help but miss Artemis. Jarlaxle hadn't lied to Kimmuriel when he had said that he didn't want Artemis back, but that didn't change anything about the fact that he still dreamt of a world in which Artemis had chosen him instead of Kimmuriel.

It took him a while to calm down and bottle his feelings up again. Jarlaxle carefully wiped the tears off his cheeks and put his eye-patch back in place, forcing his trademark smile on his face. His little excursion to the surface, including his friendship with Entreri, had been a complete failure, and it was time for him to readapt to the realities of Menzoberranzan. And in Menzoberranzan tears were out of place.

* * *

Artemis sensed that someone had entered the room, but he did not dare to look up. He pressed his face into the pillows, unable to confront the death of one of the two most important people in his life.

A wave of different, indistinct emotions washed through him when he heard Kimmuriel's voice whisper his name. The human finally sat up, slowly, and turned to face the psionicist. He furrowed his brow when he saw Kimmuriel's bloody clothes, but the drow didn't seem wounded. His eyes were, however, colder than ever.

Artemis got up and went towards him, tenderly touching Kimmuriel's cheek. The psionicist winced and took a step backwards.

"Is ... did you ...?" Artemis asked hesitantly, confused by Kimmuriel's strange behaviour. He would have expected the psionicist to be triumphant and basking in his victory, not so reticent and distant.

"Kill Jarlaxle? No, he's alive - and that seems to be your main preoccupation," Kimmuriel snorted aggressively. He knew he should enjoy the last minutes he would ever spend with Artemis, but then again, it might be easier to forget him if he destroyed what bit of happiness they had.

"It is not," Artemis sighed, but he didn't want to resume this fruitless discussion. "What happened?"

"He defeated me," Kimmuriel stated, the humiliation and bitterness clear in his voice and his eyes. "He offered me my life and my position in Bregan D'aerthe under one condition - I have to leave you."

Artemis just stared at him, too dumbfounded to react. The possibility that Jarlaxle might win and not kill Kimmuriel had never occurred to him, but was it not even worse to live without Kimmuriel, knowing that the drow was still alive?

"I accepted," Kimmuriel continued when Artemis did not answer. "To save myself."

For several minutes they just stared each other in the eyes. Artemis needed time to digest this unexpected news, and Kimmuriel had to fight hard to keep from embracing and kissing the other, from showing him how difficult this decision was for him. Finally Artemis nodded and laughed bitterly.

"So we are back where we were. To a life limited to survival."

"There is no life without survival."

"Yes. But I had just started to think that there might be more to life than only survival," Artemis said, his voice weak with sadness. For his whole life, he had refused feelings and relationships because they would weaken him. And after his short fantasy of love and trust, reality had caught up with him again. To feel, to love was to die.

"We were fools to believe that," Kimmuriel answered almost soundlessly. He hesitated for a moment before suddenly wrapped his arms around Artemis, pressing himself against him and kissing him desperately.

The human was too shocked for a moment to respond, but then he returned the kiss just as passionately, clinging to Kimmuriel as if their physical closeness could deny the bleak reality. Kimmuriel finally broke the kiss and just buried his face against Artemis' shoulder.

"If I hadn't given Jarlaxle hope, he wouldn't -" Artemis started, but Kimmuriel cut him short.

"Don't. Blaming yourself doesn't change anything," the drow whispered. Artemis was right, of course, but then again, Artemis wouldn't have turned to Jarlaxle if Kimmuriel hadn't mistreated him so badly. If Artemis was to blame, Kimmuriel was to blame as well - and the psionicist didn't particularly like that thought.

"Do you think I could talk to Jarlaxle?" the human asked, although he doubted that he had any influence on Jarlaxle left.

"He refuses to see you ever again. Nor will he let me see you again," Kimmuriel sighed and kissed Artemis.

When their lips parted Kimmuriel immediately drew back, lest Artemis might touch him again. He should finish this quickly before he lost the strength to do it - before he might even get the stupid idea to renounce to his deal with Jarlaxle and stay with Artemis.

"I have to go," he stammered when Artemis wanted to approach him again. The assassin bit on his lip and nodded. He opened his mouth several times, but he didn't find the right words for this moment. Again several minutes lapsed. The both of them were trying to think of something to say, something to do, anything that would make their parting easier.

Eventually Kimmuriel just placed a faint kiss on Artemis' lips before he left. Artemis stared at the dissipating blue gleam when the psionic gate closed again. He tried to hold on to the feeling of Kimmuriel's kiss, to the image of his beautiful face - but now that the drow was gone, the events of the last weeks seemed suddenly unreal.

Like a dream, and he had finally woken up to the life he had always known.

He did not know how long he just stood there before he regained control over himself. Slowly, hesitatingly, he picked up his dagger that had been lying on the nightstand. His fingers closed around the hilt of his trademark weapon, but for once the familiar weight in his hand failed to comfort him. A sad, distorted smile appeared on his features.

"Survival," Artemis Entreri whispered and laughed joylessly.

* * *

A/N: It is done! You have no idea how relieved I am that I finally finished this story; writing the last chapters has been more of an ordeal than anything else. It actually feels kind of strange that it's finished after all these months of racking my brains to get these stubborn bastards to be nice to each other. ;)

Anyway, as the ending isn't very happy I feel like I have to justify myself for it. First of all, I assure you that I tried desperately to think of a happy ending that would have been in character and logical after everything that happened in this story - that's why it took me so long to write this last chapter. I eventually had to realise that there could be no happy ending. Actually, I had already decided about a month ago that the only ending would be either Jarlaxle's or Kimmuriel's death (for those of you who want to know - I would have killed Kimmuriel). And then, just as I wanted to start writing, I had the idea you see now in this last chapter. It's not happy, I admit, but it is - in my opinion - still better than every other solution. So don't lynch me for not writing a happy ending - it was impossible.

Thanks to everyone who has read this story so far, and especially to those who have reviewed it. I'm looking forward to hearing your opinion on the ending, and I hope that a few of the lurkers who haven't reviewed yet (I know you exist!) will reward my last effort with a review. :)


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