Jealous

Jarlaxle was a planner. It was a failing, a blessing and a curse, a compulsion, and a source of joy. At least the cogs turning in his mind were never still. If there had to be a fear he could subscribe to, it would be that: the vast emptiness of his mind no longer thinking. That made living in a city that condoned illithids terrifying. He was glad to be out of Menzoberranzan just because of that. No, he was much more comfortable living in a human city, even if he did have to keep out of sight, because in Calimport they killed such aberrations as illithids on sight.



Even in the midst of his battle with Artemis, his mind was working, churning up ideas from murky depths and and raising them to the surface, where they floated in front of his eyes.



The sparring match he dealt with on instinct. A dagger clashing with a sword as Artemis pressed in close, trying to foul up Jarlaxle's skill at the throwing dagger to gain an advantage. Artemis lunged, grabbing his wrist, Jarlaxle dropped, throwing him and sending him tumbling across the room.



They both jumped to their feet and circled, starting over again. Protected by stoneskin, neither of them were winded in the least.



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Disgusted, Jarlaxle's two top lieutenants watched from the adjacent room, witnessing in the mock fight through magic and psionics.



How long can this go on? Rai-guy hand signaled Kimmuriel. It's been an hour.



Kimmuriel rolled his eyes. They can go at it all day. He turned, and flicked an imperious gesture at the wizard. Come on. I'm bored. Let us find more fun things to do.



Rai-guy scowled. I cannot...or Jarlaxle would have my head for not monitoring their safety.



Your problem, Kimmuriel gestured back. He sauntered away.



-----------



Jarlaxle knew in the corner of his mind that this battle was starting to stretch a trifle longer than their normal practices together, but he had an unusual stake in this one's outcome. He didn't want to be declared the humorless one. It was obviously untrue. It was a matter of pride to defend his status.



There was something else distracting him as well. Though he had laughed at the idea of himself and Artemis sharing Sharlotta, that had worked its way around to his sneaking desire to sample Artemis. It was making him aware of the grace in Artemis' movements, forever pressing his advantage in misdirection and improvisation.



A small, humming presence crept into his mind, soothingly familiar. Then why don't you have him? it asked. You can have whatever you desire.



Jarlaxle smirked uneasily at that suggestion from Crenshinibon. And on what basis do I have the right to seduce him? he asked.



Those who have power create the right to achieve their desires, Crenshinibon answered. You are the mightier, and so it is you who defines the right and the wrong.



It was typically drow logic, and so it was empty and unsatisfying to the unconventional drow mercenary.



Artemis suddenly kicked him in the stomach, catching him off guard. Before he recovered, Artemis had him pinned to the floor, vampiric dagger against his neck.



You could have warned me, Jarlaxle said to Crenshinibon sourly.



The Crystal Shard was silent.



"Yield," Artemis said, grinding the edge of the dagger against his stoneskin-protected neck.



The odd sensation sent a shiver down Jarlaxle's spine. It slapped him in the face with the significance of his predicament. Artemis was on top of him, holding him down, and he was fantasizing about what he would do to the assassin if he could somehow charm Entreri into being amenable.



"Gladly," Jarlaxle murmured. He reached for his hat and put it back on his head. "But you might want to let me up. I seem to be a little stiff."



Artemis stood up.



Jarlaxle bowed to him mockingly. "And so what have we decided is the outcome of this match?"



"You have no sense of humor, and you're too absorbed to even fight me properly," Artemis said. He looked disgusted. "This was no battle. This was an exercise in futility."



"I assure you I was trying my best," Jarlaxle protested, even though he knew it wasn't true.



"Bullshit." Artemis stared at him. "If you had been trying, you would have succeeded in toppling me."



Jarlaxle's mind quickly came up for a dirty response to that. He bit his lip and dug in his heels, but he could already tell it was a useless effort. As soon as he opened his mouth, he said, "Do you want to be toppled?"



Artemis grunted. "Well, you surely have more pride about your own twisted brand of humor than I do, so I don't see why you didn't."



"I don't know why either," Jarlaxle murmured. He felt peculiarly caught in two conversations at once, and one was one he was only having with himself.



"Then we will do this again," Artemis said. "I am not basing any decision on a single half-hearted attempt at a fight."



"Agreed," Jarlaxle said. And I think that's good advice for me as well, he thought. Heedless of what I think now, the decision can wait until later.



Artemis walked off, grabbing a towel on the way out of the room and dabbing sweat off his neck.



The simple sight of Artemis' gesture made Jarlaxle's pants grow uncomfortably tight. If there was one thing I could change, he thought unhappily, it would be to have more self control when it came to sexual matters. If he didn't clear his mind soon, his body would make hid decision for him. He didn't know how he'd kept his desire for Artemis bottled up all this time in the first place. Usually, if he wanted somebody, he pursued them.