by
Fandom: Forgotten Realms
Rating: R
Pairing: Artemis Entreri/Lirrel Baenre/OMC
Author's Note: I happen to like RA Salvatore's Drow Novels. No,I don't give a shit about Drizzt or Wulfgar or Catti-brie. I actually find them pretty boring and conventional; however, Salvatore has created two of my all time favorite villians, Jarlaxle and Artemis Entreri.
What makes Jarlaxle and Entreri so much fun is that they're so evenly matched and they compliment each other so well and they know it. And if there wasn't already enough unresolved tension in their relationship, Salvatore then had to go off and write the incredibly slashtacular Servant of the Shard in which our badguys have a fantastic adventure together and then essentially ride off into the sunset in search of more more havok to wreak.
Now, here's the thing of it — these are two incredibly self centered, self reliant men and they have nothing to gain from using each other, yet they've become bestest buddies and each hitches his wagon to the other's star when there are so many opportunities (and damn good reasons) for them to drop each other like a hot rock. Okay, not that they'll ever say they love each other. But I digress ...
This story takes place before Servant of the Shard in fact, it's set just before the opening of Starless Night and provides a bit of "backslash" for the events of The Silent Blade and Servant of the Shard.
Copyright and Disclaimer: The various Drizzt Trilogies, The Paths of Darkness series, and the characters of Jarlaxle and Artemis are creations of RA Salvatore. Lirrel Baenre was created by Elayne Cunningham. Forgotten Realms books are copyright Wizards of the Coast. I make no claims to ownership or creation. This bit of not for profit modern folklore (thank you Prof. Jenkins) is mine.
Bruised, sweaty, and seething with impotent rage, Artemis Entreri stormed down the dank tunnel that led to his quarters. The meanest, sorriest, quarters in Bregan D'aerth's complex, but no more than he as a rivvil, an iblith, a human, could expect in Menzoberranzan. Indeed, Jarlaxle had reminded him, he was lucky to have a room of his own at all; some members of Bregan D'aerth had voted to let him sleep in a supply closet. Well, at least until they had seen how formidable Artemis was with his saber and dagger. Even the most hardened of Jarlaxle's mercenary band to admit that this "mere human" was no easy meat for a drow.
/Jarlaxle/ Artemis fumed as he kicked open the door to his quarters. There were times that he would gladly plunge his dagger into that black bastard's heart. But always that sentiment was tempered with the knowledge that were their positions reversed, he would treat Jarlaxle much the same.
Take today for instance. It hadn't taken Jarlaxle but 3 seconds to deduce that Artemis had been behind the recent death of El'kir Armgo. El'kir was a minor wizard of Menzoberranzan's second house, Barrison Del'Armgo. In his typically catty way, Jarlaxle let Artemis know that he'd figured things out; just his way of letting Artemis know that Jarlaxle could destroy him utterly — hand him over to house Barrison Del'Armgo, and in typical drow fashion, his death would be extremely gruesome. The fact that El'kir had provoked the fight would provide no mitigating circumstances. The message was clear: I have you by the short and curlies, human. But, noooooo, that wasn't enough for Jarlaxle. Just today he told Artemis that he had taken a commission from house Barrison Del'Armgo to investigate the mysterious death of El'kir.
Artemis could hear him now: "I have given the job to Zer'ty." Pause. "I had thought about giving it to you, but if I had, Barrison Del'Armgo would've been very offended by my assigning so important a task to a rivvil," Jarlaxle said, using the less than flattering word for "human." Jarlaxle leaned back in his chair, a wicked glint in his red eyes.
"I see," Artemis replied, keeping his face neutral. "You're telling me this because?"
"Oh, I just believe in keeping one of my most talented and capable operatives informed."
"How nice." Artemis said dryly and left the room.
To one as experienced in the manipulative ways of drow society and Jarlaxle in particular, the message was clear: I want Zer'ty eliminated. If you can eliminate him, your secret will be safe...until I decide to hold it over you again. Oh, and you do realize that if you are seen, or if any other member of Bregan D'aerth thinks you did it, your life span will be measured in minutes. Happy hunting, human.
Yes, Jarlaxle took a perverse pleasure in playing games like this, and with him in particular. In a strange way, it was a mark of respect. They were equals in every way, except for the fact that Jarlaxle had all sorts of nasty magic about his person, not to mention his innate drow magic, and that was the only thing that kept Entreri from plunging his dagger into Jarlaxle, and both of them knew it. Jarlaxle played these games of cat and mouse because he could, because it was a rare pleasure to bend so talented and formidable a will to his own.
So, in a darkened alleyway — not that the rest Menzoberranzan was well lit by human standards — Entreri met with Zer'ty and bested him. The drow were often overconfident in their abilities and the advantage that their infravision gave them when fighting a human. Zer'ty certainly had not anticipated Artemis's expert skill at blind fighting. Even so, it had been a close fight, and now, as the door rebounded off the wall, Artemis wanted nothing more than a long hot bath. Not that he could have one. The best he would get would be sponging down with cold water, and hopefully, nobody would try to kill him in the night.
The room was dark. Because he did not yet have infravision (Jarlaxle kept "forgetting" to get the necessary spell for him) Artemis always left a candle burning. Someone was in his room. He had been found out. Since no little poison tipped dart had struck him the moment he kicked open the door, whoever it was wanted bragging rights for having bested him in hand to hand combat. In the voice of a man who simply didn't give a damn anymore Artemis said, "I know you're in there. You might as well show yourself. Let's get it over."
Light blossomed in the darkness. "Jarlaxle!" Entreri gasped. Jarlaxle was not alone. Two other drow, not members of Bregan D'aerth, flanked him.
"Do come in, and shut the door behind you." Jarlaxle said, speaking in surface common.
Woodenly Artemis obeyed, mind furiously spinning, trying to figure out what Jarlaxle's game was this time.
Turning to the other drow, a man and a woman, Jarlaxle asked, [Will he do?]
[He's awfully dirty,] replied the woman.
[Well, he does dirty work,] Jarlaxle said.
The male drow spoke, [Well, perhaps half the pleasure will be in cleaning him up, Lirrel.] He had, Artemis noted, amber eyes, a rarity among the drow.
Artemis began to have an inkling of where this conversation was going. "What are they doing here?" He hoped the other drow didn't understand the surface tongue.
"I owe them each a favor. I intend to repay."
In his frostiest tone Artemis replied, "Very well, but where do I come into all of this?"
Jarlaxle chuckled and said, "Both of them have never had sex with a human, and are curious to try. I happen to owe them each a favor, and you are a human..."
"So you want me to fuck them." Artemis snarled. He almost couldn't believe that Jarlaxle would ask — no, demand — this of him. But with Jarlaxle these days, little surprised him.
"Yes." Pause. "And I want to watch."
/Ah, so that was it/ Artemis thought. "Jarlaxle," he said evenly, "let's be honest here. I'm tired. I'm sore. It hasn't been an easy day. But not only that, neither of us is a man much given to the pleasures of the flesh. Both of us know the power that comes from burying that urge, channeling that energy in other ways." He paused. "What makes you think that I'm even capable of such a performance?"
"Quelleth root and your overwhelming attention to detail even under the most trying of circumstances."
Artemis snorted in contempt. Fine. If Jarlaxle wanted to feed him an aphrodisiac and then watch as two perverts engaged in the drow equivalent of bestiality with him, who was he to say no? He could do nothing, and Jarlaxle knew it, which was probably half the pleasure for the wretched bastard. Artemis's anger had vanished, as had his despair. A great hollowness filled his heart. Jarlaxle loved to humble him; Artemis vowed to make it an empty victory.
[Lirrel Baenre] Jarlaxle said, indicating the woman, speaking the drow language slowly and clearly so that Artemis could follow him, [And Keryl Oblodra, I'd like you to meet Artemis Entreri .] A few more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. House Baenre was Menzoberranzan's ruling house, and Oblodra its third most powerful. Both houses were patrons of Bregan D'aerthe, and Jarlaxle ever curried favor with those more powerful than he. /And this was such a cheap and easy favor to repay./ Artemis thought with some bitterness.
Sparing the other drow no more than a cursory glance, showing no deference to their station, Artemis said to Jarlaxle, "Where's the quelleth root?"
"Oh come now," said Jarlaxle with mock chagrin, "You wound me. These two are some of the most...talented...young drow in the city. Many would love to share their beds—"
"I am not of the many. I agreed to fuck them. I never said I would like it. You play a dangerous game, Jarlaxle." Artemis's flinty gray eyes bored into Jarlaxle's.
A light of acknowledgement filled Jarlaxle's eyes. After several moments he said, "I know. But it's too late to turn back now." Both of them turned and looked at the other drow, who waited patiently with expectant looks on their faces.
[Well, let's begin.] Artemis said to them, unslinging his sword belt and hanging it on a peg by the door.
[It speaks a civilized tongue.] Keryl said as Lirrel approached with a small cup. The liquor inside it reeked. Quelleth root extract. In a single swift motion, Entreri took the cup and downed its contents. Fire smoldered in the pit of his belly. Keryl took his hand and led him to the washbasin. The water in it, Artemis noted with some pleasure, was warm and smelled faintly of roses, a rare and expensive luxury here in the underdark. Murmuring to each other too rapidly for Artemis to catch no more than a few scraps of conversation, they began undressing him and gently wiping him down, easing some of the ache out of his body. Artemis paid them minimal attention. His eyes never broke gaze with Jarlaxle.
Artemis had just begun to return to his usual equalibrium, and Jarlaxle had begun to shift in his chair a bit under Artemis's intense scrutiny when a mischievous glint brightened his ruby colored eyes. With a simple motion of his hands and a softly spoken word, Jarlaxle extinguished the glowing orb, plunging the room in to darkness.
/Oh, masterfully done/ Artemis thought sourly. He couldn't see at all, but they could see him quite clearly. He was completely at their mercy. Lirrel and Keryl, realizing Jarlaxle's game, tittered with delight. Their expert hands divested Artemis of clothing as he stood still, swaying slightly in an effort to keep his balance in the darkness. When he stood naked in the coolness, the hands left him.
Nothing. Ink blackness and almost palpable silence. Suddenly purple flames outlined his body. One of the drow had used their innate magic abilities and limned him in farie fire. Artemis had been had been the target of the dancing purple lights before, but he had always been fully clothed. This time, it was different. He could feel the streamers of light as they danced over his skin, as soft and ghostly as a breath. Hands reached into the feeble glow, exploring, stroking his shoulders, caressing his sleek flanks. A not unpleasant sensation, but unwelcome none the less. Throughout it all, Artemis kept his expression stoic and fixed his gaze at the in the direction of Jarlaxle — or at least where he though Jarlaxle must be.
The expert hands sought to summon his passion, but to no avail. Oh, they summoned a biological response thanks to the quelleth root, but not his passion. Passion came from love or desire. Artemis had no love for anyone but himself, and his only desire lay in being the best at his chosen profession, assassin, and nothing more. Raised in the streets of Calimport, Artemis had seen plenty of whores at work, plying their trade. He held no illusions about its nature and believed no myths about the "whore with a heart of gold." Yes, Artemis had slept with these women of the streets, and when he had risen through the ranks of street fighters and become the most expensive and sought after member of Pasha Pook's guild he had even availed himself of the services of the girls from the Pasha's harem and the expensive houses. It was all the same to him. He had little appetite for such things. And, here, now, how different was it? Not very, except this time, he was the whore, and these two spoiled children from noble houses the customers.
But even the coldness of his thoughts could not stem the rising tide of lust brought on by the quelleth root. Artemis chuckled dryly to himself when the euphemism "scratching an itch" flitted through his mind. The tension built in him like a coiled spring, a tension that had only physical release — just like scratching an itch. Soft caressing hands pushed and prodded him, guiding him. He bumped something, his bed, and sat, and silently his two...assailants... joined him. The bed creaked ominously, it had been designed for one person, not three. Soft hot mouths and fluttering hands descended on his body, sucking, coaxing, teasing. Clenching his teeth, growling, and arching in involuntary pleasure, Artemis eventually shot his seed all over his lovers, who murmured their delight.
***
Jarlaxle shifted in the chair, which creaked, much to his displeasure. Things
progressed pretty much as he thought they would. Artemis brought to orgasm,
but not surrendering to his passions, holding his emotions ruthlessly in check.
Well he remembered Lirrel Baenre's skills, and while he had not sampled what
Keryl Oblodra had to offer, Lirrel had not exaggerated her fellow hedonist's
abilities or his endowments. But it was Artemis who captured his fascination.
— his whipcord lean body slicked with sweat, his normally neat black locks
becoming matted and tangled, lips opened as he panted for breath, his flaccid
organ rising again. Really, Artemis Entreri was the picture of a man abandoned
to his pleasures, except for his eyes, wintry and calculating as ever. //And,
that's what makes you so special, conbluth// Jarlaxle mused to himself, //you
never stop thinking. You give me the picture of lust, but none of its substance.
I expected nothing less from you. You never disappoint.// Jarlaxle craved the
challenges Artemis posed him. A pity it was this one was not born a drow. He
would've done well. Jarlaxle held the upper hand in their relationship by dint
of location and his magical abilities and devices, but he never forgot that
Artemis Entreri had a mind as shifty and devious as any Matron Mother's. Enspellments,
enchantments, and Bregan D'aerth aside, Jarlaxle suspected that none of these
would mean much if Artemis decided to kill him. The pleasure lay in coming to
the brink, in toying with such an obviously dangerous man. The pleasure came
from matching wits with his equal
Yes, his equal. Drow or not, Jarlaxle had never met another so like him in spirit or skill. And now that he had found him — things could only be more perfect if Artemis were a woman — Jarlaxle would not deny himself the pleasure of such companionship. He'd even gone as far as to begin preliminary investigations about magics to extend this human's too short lifespan.
***
His world dissolved into a maelstrom of stroking fingers and delicately licking tongues. He lost all sense of time and space. After his third orgasm, Artemis thought the evening would end, despite the rush of need brought on by quelleth root. But Lirrel had cast sex magic designed to circumvent the male inability to have multiple orgasms. Artemis had no seed left, but he could still come. He'd almost groaned in dismay. His body felt like one giant nerve, glutted with pleasure. Just when he thought he had reached his capacity for sensation, these two devilishly trained drow drove him to a new level. He felt he would burst; the orgasms brought only a little relief for his need.
He barely reciprocated. He didn't know how — lock picking and back stabbing were the skills he picked up in the streets. Besides, he was never, ever, doing this again, so why bother trying?
Eventually, Lirrel repositioned herself, and Artemis drove his aching cock into her. This he knew how to do. He fucked her hard, pounding his resentment and anger into her, wishing — he realized with mild surprise — that she were Jarlaxle, or even Drizzt Do'Urden. Her choked off grunts and gasps of pleasure or pain (he cared not which) drove him on. After all, he thought coldly, for her, fucking him was little different than rutting with an animal. With malicious glee, Artemis set out to give her everything he thought she wanted, slamming into her until his body shuddered in release. Gasping, soaked in sweat, he collapsed atop her. After a few moments he rolled off. Then, over the din of his heart hammering in his ears, Artemis heard Jarlaxle speak:
[I want to watch you take him, Keryl.]
Oh this. This was too much. But what could he do? Nothing. /Brilliantly played again Jarlaxle,/ he thought caustically.
Fingers touched his forehead. [Join with me.] Keryl whispered in his ear. Before he could react, Artemis felt a surge then became aware of Keryl's presence in his mind. He tried to relax as Keryl positioned him, as he felt the oiled fingers stretching, probing, loosening him up. Then came the first probing followed by the first painful shove. Artemis ground his teeth and hissed in pleasure-pain; thanks to Keryl's psionics, he could feel what Keryl felt: the tight passage, the heat, and, with the first full thrust, the incredible friction.
To Artemis's surprise, Keryl Oblodra was a considerate lover, thrusting slowly, waiting for Artemis's body to adjust. This made Artemis suspect that the connection went both ways, a suspicion confirmed when without warning, a bolt of pure sensation shot through Artemis' loins. "Do that again!" he panted as Keryl chortled with pleasure. With a few thrusts, Keryl established a feedback loop that had both of them writhing and shuddering in abandon. He could feel Keryl's excitement, the pleasure of penetration, then his own pleasure deep within — it felt as if someone were stroking his cock, but from the inside out — a sensation he could not quite put into words. Eagerly, mindlessly he slammed his hips back seeking more and still more of this feeling. The tension built and built and suddenly Keryl's orgasm exploded in his mind, triggering his own. As the sensation cascaded through him, a buzzing built in his ears, climbed to a roar, then sank to nothing.
****
Despite his best efforts to observe impassively, Jarlaxle found himself caught up in the moment, panting, heart racing in his chest. When Artemis shouted in climax and collapsed, Jarlaxle found himself releasing a breath he hadn't realized he held.
It was over. He had gotten the enigmatic Artemis Entreri to completely surrender his reserve, to utterly lose control. His own erection felt as if it would explode within the tight confines of his breeches. Jarlaxle had attended hundreds of orgies in his lifetime. It had been a long time since he wanted another so strongly. He chuckled ruefully. Entreri had not been the only one to lose control of his tightly reined emotions, his prized control; in breaking Artemis he had also broken himself.
[Get out,] he said to the other drow. They, catching sight of the emotion blazing in his eyes, quickly gathered their clothes and left.
With a murmured word, he called another softly glowing globe of light into being, then crossed to the gracelessly sprawled human, who reeked of sweat and come. Artemis stirred slightly under under his gaze. "Satisfied? Happy?" The exhausted man barely managed to slur the words out.
Jarlaxle paused for several moments before speaking, "No." He paused again, then said bitterly, "There are times when getting what you want causes more trouble than it's worth."
Artemis chuckled softly then slipped back into sleep.
Jarlaxle returned to his quarters. He was on the cusp of something, something
much bigger and more frightening than he cared to admit to himself.
Last Updated: 3/12/2004