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Alternate Paths 2 - Under Your Skin


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#1 Laufey

Posted 26 March 2004 - 03:35 PM

Just as its predecessor, this story is also Alternate Universe to the Cards and the regular Thayvian Tales one.



Alternate Paths 2 – Under Your Skin

I’ve got you under my skin
I’ve got you deep in the heart of me
So deep in my heart, that you’re really a part of me
I’ve got you under my skin

I’ve tried so not to give in
I’ve said to myself this affair never will go so well
But why should I try to resist, when baby I know so well
That I’ve got you under my skin

I’d sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear

Don’t you know you fool, you never can win
Use your mentality, wake up to reality
But each time I do, just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin
’cause I’ve got you under my skin

Frank Sinatra, ‘Under My Skin’


In the darkened rooms of a large Baldur’s Gate mansion, two rogues moved carefully from shadow to shadow, their passage silent as the wind. Well…mostly silent. At least one of them was totally silent, while the other kept up a constant stream of hushed chatter that irritated her companion immensely.

“Would you look at all this stuff, Adahn? Velvet curtains, lots and lots of gold paint on all the furniture and those lamps…can you imagine what they’d look like if they were all lit?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I can imagine that. I can imagine them lighting up as your incessant noise wakes up half this miserable city, including the local constabulary. I can further imagine us having a rather unpleasant conversation with said guards, and I would rather not have to kill anybody tonight, so can you please try to stop that bouncing and blabbing?”

“Huh,” the first rogue said, pouting. “Now you’re the one who’s doing all the talking.” She totally ignored the dark glare her companion directed at her, and smiled a sunny smile. “But that’s all right, I like to hear you talking, you’ve got a really nice voice, you know that? All dark and dangerous…anyway, nobody’s home, right? So nobody will hear us, right?”

The second rogue sighed wearily. “That is not the point, Imoen,” he said. “If you forget yourself now, you risk forgetting yourself later on, at some point when you might get hurt or killed because of it. I wouldn’t want that to happen.”

At this, Imoen’s rational thoughts melted into a pink puddle, and her heartbeat increased to about twice its normal rate. She was suddenly very glad that she was in a dark room, so it wouldn’t be obvious how hot and red her cheeks surely were. He cares about me! He cares, he cares, he cares, he cares! He’ll love me soon, I just know he will! Maybe…maybe he already does and he’s just being adorably shy and gentlemanly about it! She dared a quick glance at her companion, who was pretty much invisible in the shadows. If she hadn’t known he was there, she was sure she’d never have spotted him. The darkness kept her from making out his facial expression. All she could glimpse was a glitter of dark eyes and a hawkish nose protruding from beneath the cloak of his hood. Any moment now…any moment now he’ll kiss me, I just know it! He’ll sweep me into his arms, and press me against his hard and muscular body, and then cover my face with passionate kisses! Just like Sir Simon the Swarthy Swashbuckler did with Araminthia the Purple-Eyed Princess in ‘Passion’s Plaything’. Any moment now…

“Imoen?” That lovely, lovely voice again, that felt like a full body caress whenever she heard it. “Imoen, is something the matter?”

“Huh?” Startled out of her wonderful fantasy, Imoen hurriedly tried to compose herself. “Nope…nope, not at all! Why?”

“Well…your eyes went very vacant all of a sudden, and you seemed to be drooling.”

“Oh…er…was I?”

“Yes.”

Scrambling frantically to retain a few shreds of dignity, Imoen cleared her throat. “Um…I guess I’m maybe a little tired. Been a long night, ya know?”

Adahn gave her a suspicious look. “If you say so,” he said. “I never thought I’d see you run out of energy though. Usually you behave like a chipmunk in sugar frenzy. But at least we have what we came for, so by all means, let us depart.”

Imoen nodded, still not sure she could trust her own voice. They had what they had come for, all right. The Baldur’s Gate Thieves Guild had set her this mission in order to gain their approval. She was meant to steal a particular set of valuable emeralds from the home of a wealthy wizard, on a night when the man was conveniently away from home. The emeralds had been kept in a very secure safe, and the traps surrounding it had been of the most deadly kind. To be honest, she doubted she could have managed this burglary on her own. Luckily, she had had the help of the person she still privately thought of as her ‘Cuddles’. True, she still didn’t know exactly who he was, although she had figured out that Adahn wasn’t his real name. And true, she had learnt that at some point, some time in the past, there had been some other woman. Well, of course there had to be. He’s older than me, and there’s no way that he’d get away with being unattached for that long, not unless all the other women he met were blind and stupid.

The point was, that other woman wasn’t a factor any longer, since she had died, and a long time ago. No, scratch that. The other woman, whoever she had been, shouldn’t have been a factor any longer, since she was dead. Unfortunately, her Cuddles didn’t quite seem to have realized that he was now available, and still very much considered himself bound to his lost love. And even worse, Imoen couldn’t bring this up, since she wasn’t even supposed to know. She had only learnt it in the first place after that little episode with the love potion, when she had inadvertently given her Cuddles such an overdose that he’d become totally delirious. Imoen was very grateful that he didn’t remember spilling some of his secrets to her in his drugged state, or what exactly she’d been trying to do. She didn’t think he’d be happy at all about it. Meanwhile, he at least was still willing to keep instructing her in the skills of a rogue, and she knew that she was learning a lot. This little robbery had gone really smoothly, and it wasn’t as if he’d had to help her that much. The emeralds were firmly stashed in her pockets, and it was time to leave.

Then, calamity struck. The insidious thing about it was that it didn’t strike in any immediately visible way, but very stealthily and in an unprotected moment. Just like a good assassin, in fact. This particular calamity struck when Imoen noticed something she hadn’t seen before. It was a small, silver-backed hand-mirror, and it was lying quite innocently on a dresser. Hey, I could use a good mirror, Imoen thought, picking it up. The frame was oval, and decorated with pairs of little human figures, holding hands. Cute! She turned the mirror over, and noticed some writing on the back. The Soulmates’ Mirror…sounds promising all right! What does it say below…I can’t read it…it’s in some kind of weird language. Hey, maybe I need to look in it to make it work! Hurriedly, Imoen turned the mirror over and looked into it. Nothing in particular seemed to be happening. There she was, bright blue eyes looking back at her from the glass, her normal cheerful and mischievous smile in place. Just her normal face, framed by her own wild hair, freshly dyed a pretty, pretty pink. “Huh,” she said, feeling disappointed. “I thought it was magical, but it isn’t doing anything.”

“May I see that?” Adahn said, and as he took the mirror and looked first at the glass, then at the writing, as his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Interesting…” he said.

“What? Can you read what it says? Can you? Can you?”

“Yes, I can.”

“So what does it do? Is it magical?”

“Oh yes,” Adahn said, and he sounded a little preoccupied as he ran his long fingers along the frame of the mirror, examining it closely. “It is, but I seriously doubt it actually does anything important.” He shrugged. “It says: ’First one looks and then the other, soul to soul, lover to lover. Look to me, your love will grow, as each other you come to know. And should you wish the spell to end, lovers’ parting release will send’. Possibly it is a tool for divination, the description sounds a little like that, although I suspect you need to be a mage in order to work it properly.”

Imoen thought that sounded promising enough. After the disaster with the love potion she had decided that she wanted Adahn to love her all right, but love her for who she really was. Him getting to know her better couldn’t hurt, and perhaps she could make it work despite not being a mage. And I’d get to know him better too…his real name, for one thing! “So, can I keep it?”

“Of course you can,” Adahn said, looking surprised. “It was you who found it. Don’t expect too much from it though, or you might get disappointed.”

Would it be wrong of me to try to spy on him getting undressed? Yeah, probably would be…but a girl can always dream! “I’ll take it anyway,” Imoen said. “Might be fun to have.”

She slipped the mirror into her pocket, and there it remained for the rest of the evening. What she hadn’t noticed, and what ‘Adahn’ also hadn’t noticed, was that as they looked into the mirror a silvery after-image of their reflections lingered behind, mixing…mingling…changing. Not that they could have done anything about it if they had noticed. By then, it was already far, far too late.

-*-

Vadrak Dekaras, semi-official assassin to the Odesseiron family, was used to getting by on just a few hours sleep a night. Therefore, it came as something of a surprise to him when he woke up to warm sunlight trickling in through the curtains, hinting that the sun was far higher in the sky than it ought to have been. And there was something else wrong too…something that eluded him at the moment but that he would almost certainly be able to put his finger on once he was fully awake. Come to think of it, that was odd as well…he was normally a light sleeper, and would come instantly awake when he needed to. Sometimes even when he didn’t need to. But now he seemed not merely to have slept heavily, which was very unusual, but to have overslept, which was unheard of.

His eyes closed, the assassin ran through the events of the previous night in his mind. Nothing seemed to really stand out. He and Imoen had performed that burglary he had promised to help her with, and there had been no serious difficulties. Imoen was certainly learning, he thought, unable to suppress a smile. It was very gratifying to see her eagerly try to absorb anything he taught her, and she wasn’t just motivated, she had real talent too. Hm, after the burglary he had gone straight back to the small inn that was his current home away from home, and he had gone to bed. Nothing strange at all had happened. So why was there this increasing feeling of wrongness?

The sunlight was getting even warmer now, and even the thick yellow curtains couldn’t keep it fully out. In fact it was getting downright… Hold on a moment. Yellow curtains? What yellow curtains? This room didn’t even have any curtains last night. Dekaras sat bolt upright in the bed, noticing as he did so that the bed was both a great deal wider and softer than the one he had fallen asleep in. Not only that, but the room itself was completely wrong. The room of last night had been small and mostly bare, a place rented for the sole purpose of catching a few hours sleep, not for comfort. This room was warm and comfortable, with polished cherry-wood furniture, including not only the bed, but also a table and an armoire, and a small green couch, covered with fluffy pillows. Whoever lived here didn’t care much for ‘austere’. They also didn’t care much for neatness, judging by the amount of clothes scattered all over the floor. Feminine clothes. No doubt about that, he knew female undergarments when he saw them after all. Very…pink…clothes…

Oh no…oh no! The thought was only a half-formed murmur of dread, as the assassin leapt out of bed. Rather, as he tried to leap out of bed. The bed seemed far higher than it ought to have been, he almost tripped and fell, and that was very much wrong. He was used to having perfect control of his body, but right now it felt as if his legs weren’t his own. As he looked down, he came to realize, with the calm, horrified lucidity that borders on insanity, that this was because they weren’t his own. Not only were they shorter, their shape was different. Curvier, you might say. Also smoother. And very much visible, as they emerged from beneath the atrocious garment he was wearing. Something brief…and…and PINK! Already having a good guess of what awaited, he lifted his eyes towards the mirror on top of the dresser. A very familiar face looked back at him, far paler than normal, and with a haunted and desperate look in the normally so cheerful blue eyes. The almost ever-present smile was missing too, but unfortunately the shockingly pink hair was still present, tumbling across his forehead and framing a pair of cheeks that were rounder than his own. “Imoen…” Dekaras hissed, and he wasn’t at all surprised to learn that the voice that emerged from his throat was quite a bit higher than his own. “If that little pink menace did this on purpose somehow, I will be forced to have a very serious conversation with her.”

Annoyingly enough, a soprano voice made that sound far less threatening than it normally would have done.

-*-

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Imoen was also waking up, after an especially satisfying dream that involved riding a pretty pony through a field of candy canes. Something was wrong though…there was an irritating bump in the bed, which kept nudging her back in an uncomfortable way. Eventually, it became impossible to hang onto the pony dream, and she couldn’t stay asleep any longer. Her eyes popped open, and she found herself staring at a dark ceiling, with wooden beams stained by old smoke, and with a cobweb spun in one of he corners. Somebody had carved a few letters into one of the beams, and the message that this previous occupant of the room had left behind read: ‘If you can read this, you aren’t dead yet.’ Somebody else had seen fit to inform the world that ‘Carbo loves Bubbles’. The walls were bare, with no paintings or tapestries. The floor was bare too – no carpet. The bed wasn’t just lumpy, it was downright hard, and the rest of the furniture was pretty much absent. There was a small table – plain and bare. A single chair, with one mismatched leg propped up by a thick book. She could read the golden letters on the back even from this distance, and could tell that the volume being so unceremoniously used for practical purposes was that free copy of ‘Smite Makes Right – The Paladin’s Guide To A Lawful Life’ that the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart kept leaving in inn rooms all over Faerun. Whoever lived here normally clearly wasn’t very interested in learning to be more lawful.

But I wonder where here is? Imoen thought. It was strange how she had seemed to come almost instantly awake, normally it would take a while longer until her brain sort of got warmed up. And how did I get here? She’d gone to bed just as normal, in the room that had been assigned to her in the Helm and Cloak. A room of her own for once, which was a fun experience in itself. Sure, sharing with her best friend Rini was great, but wallowing in luxury in a big bed of her own was also very nice, and it meant more privacy to do some sketching. Imoen smiled broadly at the thought of that. At some point, she’d definitely have to show her Cuddles her various interpretations of him. Anyway, now she definitely wasn’t in the same room where she had gone to sleep, and she supposed she should feel bothered by that. She wasn’t though, not really. It was a bit of an adventure, and so far nothing actually bad had happened, apart from the lumpy bed. But I guess I’d better get up and try to figure out where this place is.

With that, Imoen sat up in bed, and then she suddenly gasped as she observed a few things. Her hair swung forward, sweeping across her bare shoulder, which wasn’t odd in itself. Except it wasn’t her hair. Nor was it her shoulder. This hair wasn’t bright pink and sort of fluffy, no it was smooth and glossy, and a deep black. And the shoulder was without a doubt broader and more muscular than it should have been. Imoen’s eyes trailed downward. The threadbare grey blanket that covered her had fallen away, revealing that certain things that had been present last night were now missing in action, and she had a sneaking suspicion that other things might have taken their place. “Mirror…” Imoen gasped, and then she made a choking sound in her throat as she recognised the voice. It didn’t sound exactly the same from the inside as from the outside of course, but she recognised it all right. Biting her lower lip to keep from giggling maniacally, she swung her legs out of the bed, studying them intently as she did so. Oooooh…nice, nice, nice! Firm, but not too bulky! I like that! Boy, I need that mirror now! What am I wearing…nothing much, even better! Hm…black, no surprises there. Really nice fit, and nice and soft. Maybe feel a little with my hand and…oh. Oh my! MIRROR!

There was one hanging on the wall, fortunately, and even though it was a bit smudged it would have to do. Imoen stood in front of it, marvelling at her sudden increase in height, and then she stared longingly at the view in the mirror. It was the face of her Cuddles that met her all right, divinely perfect in every way. Long black hair, oh yes, currently loose unlike how he normally wore it. Deep black eyes, oh yes, currently a little misty with the happy daze she found herself in, and that slightly goofy smile wasn’t one he normally wore, but she could live with that. Rather large and hawkish nose, oh yes, and marked cheekbones. Oh…and he’s got really long eyelashes, doesn’t he? Pretty! Why is it always guys that get that, that’s so unfair…all right Imoen, focus now. Bare chest, now that was very pleasant to look at, smooth and hard, nicely muscular but not too much so, same went for the stomach. Arms and legs she’d already covered of course. Now let’s see…can I twist my head around enough…oh yes. Lovely view from behind, just like I’ve always thought. Really yummy and firm shape. Nice slim hips too. And this time he won’t get away before I can finish looking!

Gingerly, Imoen patted her borrowed body down, and found that it was all Good. Well…all she had seen so far. She wasn’t quite done yet, after all. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t do this, now that I’ve got the chance. And it’s not as if he’ll ever know. Cheeks flushed and fingers trembling with barely contained excitement, Imoen grabbed hold of the waistband of the single garment she was wearing. One…and twooo…aaaaand THREE! Then she stood very still, staring from herself to the mirror, and the dazed smile spread even further across her face.

“Oh my goodness,” she said out loud, and the sound of her own current voice sent little thrills of pleasure down her back. This was far, far better than the dream about the pony and the candy canes. Then she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She broke out into a fit of wild giggles. With her normal voice and face, that would probably have qualified as cute. Right now, it came closer to ‘disturbing and frightening’.

-*-

Somewhere, there is a god who really hates me. Possibly several of them. Dekaras tried to avoid looking into the mirror again. The tangled strands of pink hair that kept falling into his eyes were bad enough a reminder of the nasty predicament he had found himself in. There will be a way to reverse this spell though. There has to be. At least hoped it was so, and on some level he knew that he had to keep telling himself that or risk going out of his mind. He tried to focus on practical concerns, and what needed to be done, and that helped for a few moments. Getting dressed, that was a good first step. Anything to get out of the nauseating pink nightdress, and then he would have to find Imoen. If I am in her body, it seems reasonable to assume that she is in mine, so at least I will know where to look for her. I must find her quickly, before she has the time to do something foolish. And then I must get us back to normal. Briefly, he contemplated having a word with Edwin about the current situation, and then immediately discarded the idea. No, I don’t think I want to do that unless it’s absolutely necessary. I’d rather not that he found out about this ridiculous situation, even if I don’t see how I could have done anything to prevent it.

So. Time to get dressed then. As the assassin stared at the various feminine garments scattered across the floor, another disturbing thought occurred to him. In order to get dressed, he first needed to get undressed. And that meant an involuntary view of the naked body of a young woman about half his own age. Half his normal age, at least. At any rate, it would be without her consent, and entirely improper. And yet, he could hardly run about town in his current state of dress. A compromise would need to be found, and as he thought about it, a solution presented itself. Grimly, he began searching through the piles of clothes, trying to find the least offensively pink items.

Five minutes later…

“Immy? Immy, are you awake?”

The voice outside the door came as a nasty surprise, and Dekaras didn’t like that at all. Under normal circumstances he would have heard the footsteps approaching long ago, but Imoen’s body wasn’t as practiced at picking up on soft noises as his own was. Also, it came at the worst possible moment, just when he was balancing on one leg, his eyes closed. Stifling a curse, he swayed from side to side, but managed to avoid falling. He also stubbornly refused to open his eyes. I will not look. Absolutely not. It would be inexcusably rude.

“Immy, I’m coming in there now!” There was a faint murmur, arcane words rapidly chanted, and the lock clicked, seconds before the door swung open. Now he had to look, or else be caught getting dressed with his eyes closed, definitely not an act ideal for avoiding suspicion. The last thing he wanted was for Imoen’s comrades to realize that Imoen wasn’t precisely Imoen any longer. Especially Edwin.

The young woman who had entered the room was approximately Imoen’s age, but her larger eyes, slender build and lightly pointed ears revealed that some amount of elven blood ran through her veins. Fiery red hair framed a face dominated by an impish smile and a pair of glittering golden eyes. “Immy?” she said. “Why didn’t you answer?” She grinned. “Oh, hang on…I know why, I bet. You were out laaaaate last night, weren’t you? Was it as fun as you thought?”

Dekaras suddenly found himself nudged in the ribs by his uninvited companion, and his eyes inadvertently dropped downward. He had got as far as removing the nightdress, but hadn’t had time to put anything else on before he was interrupted, and that meant that he got exposed to quite a bit more of Imoen’s girlish charms than he had ever meant to. Part of his mind tried to shut itself down to avoid the sudden and crushing sense of guilt. Another, smaller part had to admit that it was actually a very scenic view. Very…attractive. No! No, no, no. I do not spy on girls getting dressed. Not only is it wrong in itself, it would be unfaithful. Desperately, he summoned up the memory of another, more mature woman. Dark hair fell across her smooth and bare shoulders, her hands were on her hips and she was tapping her foot irritably. I love you. I would never betray you in any way. Yet, he had seen what he had seen, and couldn’t banish the memory so easily. And Imoen’s body had its own way to respond to this kind of situation, one over which he had no control. He could feel heat rising in his face and licking across his throat, burning right up to the very tips of his ears.

“Ha! You’re blushing!” The half-elf’s grin turned even wider, but her words were not unkind. “I guess you had fun, huh? Come on, Immy, you can tell me, can’t you? I tell you these things. Well, most of them.”

Dekaras had no idea what she was referring to, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to admit this. Come to think of it, he probably didn’t want to know about it. If he wanted to avoid being revealed as an impostor though, he had better play along. Fortunately, he knew the young lady before him well enough that he thought he could get away with it. After all, she was the sole reason that he was here, and not back in Thay. Bloody Red Wizards. If they hadn’t ordered Edwin to come here, this would never have happened. But that wasn’t entirely fair, and he knew it. Edwin had wanted this mission, to try to recruit one of the infamous Bhaalspawn into the service of Thay, knowing what a triumph it would be for him if he succeeded. And he himself had gone voluntarily as well, anything in order to keep Edwin safe after all. He would do far more than that for his child, and happily. Except possibly show myself to him like this. That was an even more frightening thought than imagining explaining to Edwin just what his true parentage was. “Fun?” he managed, spotted a pink tunic on the floor, and rapidly pulled it on. Yes, it was pink, but it was at least coverage. “Yes, I suppose that I had…fun.”

“So?”

“So what?” Doesn’t the girl own anything that isn’t pink? I know for certain that on occasion I’ve seen her wear other colors…what did she do, drop everything into a vat of pink dye?

“So, what did you do?” Zaerini had jumped onto the bed as she spoke, and now she was lying on her stomach, legs kicking in the air, watching him expectantly. There was a worryingly eager glint in her eyes. “You and Adahn, I mean. You did say that you were going out. Come on Immy, I’m curious here!”

Well, at least here he was on safe ground, Dekaras thought. He had been present during Imoen’s outing after all; there was no risk of being caught in a lie. Thus, he provided the half-elf with a brief summary of last night’s event, trying to go into as few details as possible. Unfortunately that didn’t seem to satisfy Zaerini. “That’s it?” she said. “Immy, are you sure you’re feeling all right? Normally you’re gushing like anything when…” Then there was that quick flash of a smile again. “Oh, I get it! You made some real progress, didn’t you? And you wanted to tease me and show off the big surprise later, right?”

By now, Dekaras had the uncomfortable feeling that he was walking blindfolded across a floor covered with traps. There were all sorts of implied hidden meanings here, but he had no way of knowing what they were. Still, he had to reply something, and decided to stick to the most literal answer he could. After all, Imoen had made some serious progress. “Ah…yes,” he said, as he hurriedly pulled on a pair of painfully pink pants, complete with little pink roses embroidered along the thighs and down to the knees. By now he didn’t even care, not as long as they provided some cover. “Yes, I made a lot of progress, actually.” Then he suddenly found himself pounced upon by an exuberant half-elf, who was hugging him hard enough to practically make his ribs creak.

“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Zaerini exclaimed, smiling brightly. “I’m so happy for your sake…I know how much bother it’s been.”

“Oh, quite,” Dekaras said, recalling Imoen’s initial attempts at disarming a fireball trap. She was lucky to still have eyebrows, as far as he was concerned.

“No wonder you’re acting a little spaced out…I bet you were daydreaming like crazy when I got here. I’ll let you get back to it then – you can tell me all about it later. Actually, you will tell me all about it later, unless you want the Candlekeep Tickle Torture! Meanwhile, I meant to ask you if you wanna go outside for a bit? Me and Eddie are going shopping for some spell scrolls, want to come along, now that you’re dressed?”

The assassin emphatically shook Imoen’s head, and explained that he wasn’t quite ready yet, so they should just go on their own. Edwin was the very last person he wanted to talk to right now. This first attempt at pretending to be Imoen had been bad enough, he had a nagging feeling that there was something important he had missed out on. Well, at least the girl wasn’t suspecting anything about Imoen not being Imoen. So far. However, he really didn’t feel up to tackling Edwin at the moment. Also, he most certainly didn’t consider himself fully dressed yet, and wouldn’t do so until he had at least two concealed weapons secreted away on his person. Hopefully not pink ones, he thought.

-*-

Somewhere, there’s a god who really loves me. Or maybe lots of them! Imoen was still admiring herself in the mirror, taking this opportunity to get a good long look at her Cuddles, in a fully uncensored way. Hang on, I should take this chance to make some really good sketches! For once I can get him to pose properly for me and won’t have to rely on memory. Yup, it would be really criminal not to use this opportunity! Unfortunately there wasn’t much paper available, except for the paladin book. That was no good though, the pages had writing all over them. Maybe a wall painting…but I don’t have any paint. Nope, nothing for it. I’ve got to go shopping. Or maybe I could go back to my own room and get my own stuff? He’s probably there, and then I’d get to meet him!

Sadly, that meant getting dressed. Much as she adored the current view, it would draw a bit too much attention if she wandered into the streets like this. And I don’t want other girls to see him in the buff after all. Private viewings only, please. There were some clothes hanging neatly across the back of the chair, and she recognized them as the ones Adahn had worn last night. All black, of course. Well, he does look very swoon-worthy in it…but it would also be fun to see him in something else for once. Maybe I could buy him some new stuff? It would be like a makeover! Everybody loves makeovers! Still, for the moment she was limited to what she had available. She pulled the clothes on, took a final appreciative look at the mirror, and headed out the door, whistling cheerfully.

Imoen headed for the market near the Ducal Castle first, since that not only was a shortcut back to the Helm and Cloak, but also might be a place where she could find the stuff she wanted to buy. It was a fine day outside, with a clear blue sky dotted with only a few white clouds, and with warm and pleasant sunshine. It was funny, she could walk ever so much faster now, what with the longer legs, and she enjoyed being tall enough to see far ahead. Another funny thing was how people would keep getting out of her way, something they normally never did. She found some parchment and pens quite easily, and brought them over to the merchant, a fat little man in a gold-embroidered purple tunic. He had heavy-lidded eyes and a pair of really outrageous orange sideburns, and the price he demanded for the goods was equally outrageous.

“Fifty gold?!” Imoen incredulously asked. “You’re kidding me.” Sure, Adahn had enough money, but she’d have to pay him back later after all. She leaned forward a little, trying to catch the merchant’s eyes. For some reason he seemed to be trying to avoid her gaze. “Please tell me this is some kind of a joke.” Something was nudging her side a little, and she absentmindedly adjusted it. Another dagger? How many does he have anyway? Well, at least he doesn’t keep any in his undies – I think.

“Ah…no, good sir,” the merchant said. He was sweating, which was odd. It wasn’t that hot out. “They’re very fine, the finest possible…handmade by drow virgins!”

“Oh please,” Imoen scoffed. “Thirty gold would be about right, I think. Otherwise I don’t think I wanna be your friend.” She smiled her best innocent smile. “You want to be my friend, don’t you?”

The merchant gulped. “Yes sir, yes of course. And I will be happy to offer you these free watercolors, along with the rest of the goods! Anything for my…friends.”

“Oh good!” Imoen said, swiftly gathering the wares she had bought. “I might be back later actually, if this stuff is good enough. Or if it isn’t, because then I’d have to return it, but that would be a shame, don’t you think?”

The merchant paled and murmured something, but Imoen didn’t pay attention to that, or to the fact that he started tearing down his tent as soon as her back was turned. Yup, a happy smile will get you really far!

-*-

Dekaras was relieved when he was finally left alone, and could finish getting dressed. Pink boots. Somebody will pay for this, if I have anything to say about it. Then he noticed something that he hadn’t earlier, given his state of shock. There was a small object lying on the table, one that glittered in the sunlight. That mirror… He picked it up, trying to avoid seeing his reflection, and turned it over. Could it have caused this curse? Certainly neither of us cast a spell, and there are none of the customary trigger phrases or I would have been suspicious at the time, but it might be that simply looking into it was enough to bring the transformation about. Fortunately he knew quite a bit of magical items. It shouldn’t be impossible to figure out how to reverse the spell. Or at least he had to keep telling himself that, in order not to lose his mind. ‘And should you wish the spell to end, lovers’ parting release will send’. All that remains is to work out what that means. Of course, Imoen and I are hardly lovers in any sense of the word, that is a preposterous idea, but the spell must have mistaken us for such. And if the spell could work that way, the counter spell should do the same.

Of course, first he needed to actually find Imoen. The assassin slipped out the door, and down the stairs, then headed out into the streets of Baldur’s Gate. It didn’t take long before a dark scowl had settled onto his face. Mercifully enough he was unaware of the fact that with Imoen’s features, it came out more as pouting than anything else. The reason for this displeasure was that he had come to realize just how great a disadvantage it was to be a short girl in a big city. For one thing, he couldn’t see nearly as far ahead as he was used to, all he could spot was a number of backs. Also, he had to constantly avoid getting jostled, and made much slower progress than he was used to. And Poppy is about half as short as this. How in the Abyss does she even manage to get about without getting trod on? I must remember to ask her some time. Without mentioning the reason for it of course. The thought of his Best Friend finding out about this predicament was not a pleasant one. Oh, she’d be sympathetic of course, and she’d kill anybody else who made a ‘humorous’ remark about it with her bare hands, but that wouldn’t keep her from teasing him mercilessly.

Finally exasperated with the crowded streets, Dekaras decided on a shortcut. He had spent some time learning the back ways of Baldur’s Gate, and there was a series of convenient alleys just ahead. With a sigh of relief he slipped into the closest one. Finally he could move more freely, and the fact that the gloom of the alley muted the bright pink of the clothes he was wearing was an added bonus. However, after he had walked for a while it became apparent that he wasn’t the only one who preferred the semi-gloom in here to the broad and sunlit streets. A group of three young men, wearing ragged clothes, stepped out from an intersecting alley, their eyes lighting up with eager glee as they noticed him. They had that lean, hungry look about them that you might see in a pack of stray dogs, and he didn’t doubt that they would be happy to kill him, or worse, if they thought they could get away with it.

“Well look at that,” said the leader, grinning to bear a set of rotting teeth. “Little girl in a pink hood, walking about on her own in the big city. Where you off to, little girl? To deliver some ‘sweets’ to grandpa?”

On cue, the other two hooligans laughed. The leader had spoken, and assent was obligatory.

“Little girls should be more careful where they walk,” the leader said. “Forests have wolves, but the city has us.” He leered. “And it costs to walk down the streets that belong to the Back Alley Boys. That’s us, little girl, ‘case you didn’t guess. We’re kind of all around performers…we sing, we dance, we rob people blind.”

Dekaras didn’t answer. He was fairly certain what was to follow, and knew that discussion would be pointless. All that remained was to decide how best to handle this, and there really weren’t many options. Flight was out of the question, they were too close. That meant fight, and although he didn’t like to have to risk Imoen’s body getting hurt in combat, he didn’t think he had much choice. A pity he didn’t have access to his own weapons, but he would have to work with what was available.

The leader thug didn’t much like the fact that the girl hadn’t screamed yet. He wanted her to scream, needed her to scream, and now he was angry. She just kept looking back at him with those pretty blue eyes of hers, but they had gone as cold as a lake frozen solid. That made him feel uneasy, and feeling uneasy made him even angrier. He decided to really make this one suffer. “So,” he said. “Time to pay up, pinky. First your money…and then your ‘sweets’.”

When the girl struck, pink hair flying, he just had time to think that she still didn’t look nearly as scared as she should have done. In fact, that icy gaze was still present, and it remained there as one of her dainty pink-booted feet landed a solid kick to his groin. The thug went to his knees, gurgling with agony, an agony that was swiftly terminated. The girl grabbed him by his greasy hair, yanked his head up, and then he could feel something sharp against his throat. Then there was pain, and hot liquid spurting onto his face. He tried to scream, needed to scream, but the liquid was filling his throat, filling his lungs, and the light was going out of the world. The last thing he saw was that monstrous girl gauging her fingers into the eyes of one of his companions. The last thing he heard was the high-pitched scream of the other one, instantly cut off. As he died, he belatedly realized that in the forest that was the city, he and his companions weren’t, after all, the wolves.

When it was all over, Dekaras made certain that none of the men would get up again, by driving Imoen’s short sword into a few carefully selected spots. Not a single one even stirred, which was satisfying. It meant he had finished them off directly, and he hadn’t been at all certain he would manage that. Still, even if Imoen’s body didn’t have his normal strength and speed, he had his knowledge intact. Moreover, when he had learnt his first lessons about killing, he had been both younger and smaller than Imoen was, and that helped now. In a small body, you couldn’t rely on the exact same techniques, but aiming for the most vulnerable parts of human anatomy still went a long way towards giving an extra edge. I really think I ought to show Imoen a few of my special moves, the assassin mused as he wiped off the sword on the clothes of one of the dead thugs. Any girl ought to know how to defend herself properly. And I think I’ll show her how to properly poison a blade as well, while I’m at it. After all, if you want somebody dead, you might as well stack the odds in your favor. No use being coy about it and pretending it’s just a friendly scuffle.

In a somewhat better mood than before, he headed off down the alley. Imoen’s atrocious pink clothes were a little blood splattered by now, and as far as he was concerned it was a vast improvement.

-*-

Still very satisfied with her excellent buy, Imoen decided to further investigate the pleasures of the market, especially a stall where pink cotton candy was sold. Happily licking the sticky sweet mass, she decided to carry on towards the Helm and Cloak, and find her Cuddles. She’d taken care of her other errands after all…only one remained, the little ‘makeover’ project. And right here, in front of her, was the solution for that, a small stand where there were all sorts of interesting little bottles of different colors, including one that was just perfect for her purposes. Imoen grinned, and headed for the stall.

“What in the Abyss do you think you are doing?” The voice came from directly behind her, and Imoen turned around with a small squeal of panic, one that sounded extremely odd with her current vocal cords and drew more than one puzzled look.

Adahn was standing not ten feet behind her, leaning against one of the walls that closed off the Central District marketplace from the surrounding streets, and he had a very disapproving look on his…or rather her face. It was funny to see herself from the outside like this, Imoen thought. From this point of view she looked far shorter than she had thought…and far pinker. It’s funny though…it doesn’t look quite like me. I guess that’s because he’s inside me. That thought was enough in itself to make her giggle wildly, and the vicious look on the face before her didn’t help much. Wow…how does he manage to make my face look that scary? I tried and tried in front of a mirror and never made it. He’s still very cute though. “Er…hi!” Imoen said, rapidly hiding one of the little bottles behind her back. She hadn’t paid for it, exactly, but the important thing was that he not spoil her surprise. “Heh…fancy meeting you here…doing what?”

“You,” Adahn said in an acid voice, “you were skipping. In my body.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“Oh yes, my dear. I don’t skip. Ever. Try to remember that in the future.”

He called me ‘dear’! Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes! I knew he’d come to his senses eventually and realize that I’m the only girl for him…man…whatever. Wonder if I can get him to call me that again? Maybe if I skip some more…no, better not. “So…” she said. “Any ideas about how we wound up like this? Not that I mind that much, I think it’s sort of fun. Say, where did you get that nasty old scar high up on your left thigh anyway? You really ought to take better care of yourself, you know.”

Imoen was then treated to the interesting sight of watching as a delicate pink flush crept across her regular face. “How did you…” Adahn started to say. Then he checked himself, and cleared his throat. “Never you mind that. It was a long time ago, and the present is far more important. Namely, how we can get back to normal.” He started explaining his theory about the mirror, but Imoen was only listening with half an ear.

“Hey!” she said. “What did you do to my pants? They’re my best pair, I bought them only last week, and they cost a bundle. What’re all those spots?”

Her Cuddles blinked as if he had no idea what she was talking about, and then he looked down. “Oh, that.” He shrugged, pink hair whispering across his shoulders. “That’s only blood. Some cold water should take care of it.”

“Blood? Blood?! What happened? Are you hurt? Let me take a look at it, maybe I can help!”

“I am not about to take my pants off in the middle of the street! And besides, it’s not my blood.”

“Really? Whose is it then?”

“I can’t say they ever actually introduced themselves,” Adahn said, and Imoen immediately promised herself that she’d try to capture that exact same nonchalant tone of voice herself as soon as she got her body back. If he could do it, she could. It would be perfect for use after some of her pranks. “Some thugs attacked me in the street on my way here. Believe me, they won’t try that again.”

“SAY WHAT?”

Imoen was apt to agree with that statement. It wasn’t she who had spoken though. As she turned her head, she saw she and her Cuddles had been joined by none others than her best friend Rini, and her almost-but-not-quite-official-main-squeeze Edwin, the sarcastic but often quite funny Red Wizard. Oh yeah…Rini said something about going shopping today, didn’t she? Right now, her best friend was more or less ignoring her though. She had grabbed Adahn by the upper arms and was trying to look all over him at once. “Immy, I couldn’t help overhearing…were you really attacked by robbers? While you were all by yourself? You are all right, aren’t you? You’re not hurt? Maybe we should let Jaheira have a look at you.”

While Adahn stubbornly insisted that no, he wasn’t hurt at all, and no healers were at all necessary, Imoen found herself getting increasingly uncomfortable. Edwin was giving her some very peculiar looks that she couldn’t quite make sense of, and when he wasn’t staring at her, he was glaring very darkly at Adahn inside her body. It was annoying, especially since she couldn’t understand it. What did I ever do to him anyway? “Find something especially interesting to look at?” she eventually snapped, and was pleasantly surprised by the bite she managed to instill into her borrowed voice just by modulating it a tiny bit.

Edwin immediately deflated, and she couldn’t help feeling sort of bad for him – it wasn’t like him to back off that easily to anybody. “Cotton candy?” he eventually managed, his eyes fixed on the mass of pink fluff she was still holding onto. “I never would have thought…I mean…”

Ooops…no, pink cotton candy isn’t really Adahn’s style, is it? Darn. How to fix this? Then she had a bright idea. “I bought it for Imoen, of course,” she said, thrusting the cotton candy into Adahn’s hand. “As a…gift. A pretty, clever, charming girl like her deserves a gift, don’t you think?” This had an effect, of sorts. Edwin no longer looked disbelieving. Instead he looked horrified. On the other hand, Zaerini looked very pleased. She was grinning like a cat who has just eaten a canary, and Imoen could just catch the very meaningful wink she aimed at Adahn. Adahn probably wasn’t paying attention to it though – he was staring at the cotton candy with a look of mild revulsion on his face.

“Yes,” he eventually said. “A gift. How very thoughtful.” Then he closed his eyes and determinedly swallowed some of it, clearly very much determined not to blow their cover.

Aw, nuts…I guess he doesn’t like cotton candy much.

-*-

“…and by the Oakfather, I really do not know what you were thinking of, girl! Have you any idea what might have happened?”

Dekaras sighed inwardly, tuning out the rather heavily accented voice of the woman in front of him as best as he could. Things hadn’t exactly gone as planned. He would have preferred to slip off with Imoen, so they could finally try to make some sense of this curse they both found themselves under. Instead, Zaerini had insisted that he should come with her and Edwin back to the Helm and Cloak Inn, ‘just in case you got nicked and didn’t notice it. Some thieves like to use poison, you know that.’ While he had been tempted to reply that he not only knew that, but also was considered something of an expert in the field, it would hardly have been prudent to do so. Imoen was a sunny-natured, friendly girl. She wouldn’t want to make her friends worry, and he had to try to act the part. Though it was getting very difficult to do so, what with this irate Tethyran druid screaming into his, or rather Imoen’s, face.

Jaheira was a half-elf, much like Zaerini was, but older than the redhead and far less likely to let ‘Imoen’ get away with alley-fights with armed thugs. Dekaras glanced over to where Zaerini was sitting huddled in an armchair, holding onto her black cat, and glared at her. He got an apologetic shrug in return – it seemed the girl hadn’t realized just how worked up Jaheira would get after hearing the full story and getting asked to check ‘Imoen’ for wounds or traces of poison.

Right now, Dekaras was standing in the middle of the floor of Imoen’s room, and Jaheira was looming over him, so angry that her golden-brown hair was practically giving off sparks. It was still very annoying to be so much shorter than he was used to, he only came up to the druid’s chin level, and so was treated to the sight of a furiously heaving bosom beneath the green tunic she wore. Not that he really noticed, or would have cared much if he had noticed. He was far too preoccupied with the finger Jaheira was waving accusingly beneath his nose.

“…could have got killed! Would have deserved to get killed, for pulling such a foolish, irresponsible stunt! What got into your head? Walking those back streets alone is not safe for a young girl and…”

Dekaras decided that he might just as well let her finish. She was too angry to hear anything but her own voice anyway. Just…like she would get. The pang of hurt was still sharp, after all these years, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, Jaheira was staring expectantly at him. Probably she was expecting some sort of comment.

“Oh, I am sorry,” he said, in a slow drawl calculated to insult. It wasn’t as good as it would have been with is own voice, but it was getting closer. “Were you saying something? I’m afraid I rather lost track after the first few minutes of incoherent rambling or so.”

For a moment, he wondered if he had gone too far. Jaheira’s face turned a red so dark that it was almost purple, and her eyes almost looked about to pop out of her skull. At least I still have my touch. This was exactly how he’d usually handled scoldings directed towards him during his childhood in the Assassin’s Guild of Surthay, and there had been a lot of those to hone his skills to perfection. If you could drive the scolder to distraction, it usually meant you could cut the procedure short. Sometimes it would earn you a spanking of course – but he didn’t think Jaheira would do that to Imoen. No…surely she wouldn’t.

“You…” Jaheira said, in a low voice that was more a growl than anything else. “You, young lady, may consider yourself grounded from now on. No more sneaking off on your own!” She turned towards Zaerini who was starting to say something. “No, I will not be swayed on this! I promised Gorion…I swore to him that I would keep you both alive and safe, and I will not break that promise.” She then turned back to Dekaras, and by now her green eyes were really spitting fire. “And I should add that you will not run off to see that…that thief! He is not to be trusted, and I especially do not trust his intentions towards you!”

It took the assassin a few seconds to work this through and understand that she was actually referring to him. “Are you trying to tell me who I’m allowed to talk to or not?” he asked, and he managed to install quite a bit of silky menace into Imoen’s voice, not a mean feat at all.

“I certainly am! Especially after what Edwin told me about how you were ogling him!”

This outrageous accusation made Dekaras spin around on the spot to stare at Edwin. The wizard was leaning against the wall, looking very amused by ‘Imoen’s’ predicament, and was actually smirking about the whole thing. Dekaras had no idea about why Edwin would fabricate such a ludicrous story – it wasn’t as if he was about to ‘ogle’ his own body after all – but he knew that it was enough to make him very angry. Imoen was a nice girl, despite being annoying at times, he cared about her, and he most certainly didn’t approve of his son trying to get her into trouble out of some sort of childish spite. Edwin could be like that at times, very volatile, and intense about his likes and dislikes, much like his mother had been. Probably Imoen had played some prank on him and he was trying to retaliate like this. Well, whatever she did, he is being very immature about it! I certainly never taught him to behave like that. Is that how he acts when I’m not around to mind him? And such a preposterous idea too – as if Imoen would ever do such a thing. I’m old enough to be her father for one thing, and she deserves far better. A pity he couldn’t tell Edwin, right here and now, exactly who he was. But that was of course impossible, it could get the boy into serious trouble, and he didn’t want that. A little lesson in manners later on though…surely that could be arranged. “Edwin,” he calmly said, “talks too much sometimes. It is none of his business who I care to talk to, and neither is it yours.”

“I will make it my business,” Jaheira said, grabbing hold of his shoulders to stare directly into his eyes. “I told you Imoen, you are grounded for now. Now stay put!”

“Oh, come on Jaheira!” Zaerini protested. “You’re not being fair, and you know it! I’m not letting you lock Immy up in here forever you know.”

“Not forever,” the druid replied. “I never said anything about that. But I will insist on it for tonight, so she will have proper time to think her actions through.”

Zaerini looked as if she meant to say something else, but Dekaras chose that moment to interrupt her. He could see that Jaheira wasn’t about to be convinced, and arguing would serve no purpose. Far better to pretend to go along with things. “No, it’s all right,” he said, trying to sound contrite, even managing a smile. “I don’t mind being locked up.” Which was, after all, perfectly true.

Jaheira still looked suspicious, but she voiced no protests. “Very well,” she said. “Take this opportunity to dwell upon the dangers you were in today, girl.” She then ushered Zaerini and Edwin out the door, and locked it behind her.

Dekaras waited until he was absolutely certain that they were all gone, and that nobody was listening outside the door. Then, he started to prepare himself. Imoen was still out there, alone, in a city full of cutthroats and thieves, and he wasn’t about to leave her there. Besides, now that he had had time to think some more about the curse, he thought he might have an idea how to break it, and he wanted to share that with Imoen. Grounded, he thought, as he glanced out the window. Third story. No problem at all. She has no idea how extremely inappropriate that phrase is.

-*-

The sun had just set, and Imoen was getting impatient. Why isn’t he here yet? After Zaerini and Edwin had turned up, things had got a bit awkward, but she’d made sure to tell her Cuddles to ‘come see me tonight so we can finish our conversation.’ Edwin had looked really put out about that, for some reason. Huh, if I didn’t know he was into girls I’d almost think he was after Adahn himself. But nope, him and Rini are practically eating each other up with their eyes, so that can’t be it. He can’t fancy me can he? Nah. He’s never acted like it. Oh well, he’ll just have to grin and bear it, ‘cos my Cuddles won’t let anybody stop him from seeing me if he wants to! If he wanted to…yes, that was the problem. Suppose he was mad at her? She was the one who had picked up that mirror after all.

Imoen worriedly bit her lower lip. She had spent a very enjoyable afternoon with her borrowed body, making all sorts of interesting observations about it that she didn’t think she would be telling Adahn about any time soon. Or least not ‘til we’re married and living happily ever after, gloriously defying danger at every turn, escaping the law and being generally daring and dashing. And have a puppy. I’d like a puppy. Anyway, by that time I’ll be supposed to know about…things… anyway. She also had done some very satisfying new sketches, her best ones yet, now that she had a live model to work from. Should she show Adahn those? No…perhaps not just yet. They were works of love of course, and surely he’d realize that nude artwork was the best way to do him justice, only…only…

“Only maybe I should show them to somebody else first,” she mused. “Hey, I can show them to Rini! She saw the first one I made, she’ll be able to tell if these are even better than that one. I want them to be perfect before he sees them.”

“Sees what?” It was Adahn’s voice, coming from the window. Well, her voice, really. Imoen turned around to see her own body perched precariously on the windowsill – he must have picked the lock to get in. It seemed her Cuddles had done some thorough investigating of the secrets of her wardrobe. He’d found the outfit she’d hidden on the very bottom, the one she’d bought but hadn’t quite had the nerve to try out yet. The black one. The black tight one. The black tight one that showed off her legs really nicely. It suited her for certain, she could tell that now that she could see it from the outside. She noticed something else about the appearance of her body though. Something that was definitely out of the ordinary.

Simultaneously, Adahn’s mouth gaped open in silent shock, and for a second Imoen was afraid he’d fall out the window and break his neck. He managed to catch his balance however, and swung his legs into the room, staring accusingly at her all the while.

Both of them shouted at the same time, transfixed by the unexpected and unwelcome transformation of their regular bodies, shouted loud enough to make themselves heard several streets away. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HAIR?!”

Imoen tugged at the bright pink strands of hair that fell across her shoulders. “It’s a makeover!” she said. “Not that I don’t think your own color looks great, ‘cause it does, but I thought it would be fun to try something new…something a bit more cheerful.” Only it hadn’t exactly made Adahn’s body look cheerful, she had to admit that. If anything, the pink hair made him look even deadlier than before.

“Cheerful…” Adahn said, as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears. “You dyed my hair pink…to make me cheerful?!”

“Well at least I was trying to do something nice for you! What about you?” Imoen couldn’t quite stop staring at her own body. It wasn’t that he had made her look bad as such. On the contrary, pure black hair made her look…stylish, especially along with the black outfit. No, not bad at all. But it made her feel as if it wasn’t exactly her own body she was looking at anymore and that was scary to say the least.

“It’s camouflage,” Adahn said, tugging at the hair in question. He sounded just a little bit guilty. “Don’t worry, it will wash out in a day or so, I’ve tried it before. I had to climb out your window in order to get here, you see, and I wanted to confuse the issue in case that confounded druid should find out I was missing and have the town guards start looking for a girl with pink hair. Also it should make you a little less easy to spot in the dark.”

“Awwwww!” Imoen gushed, bounding over to gather her Cuddles into a big hug before he could dodge her. “You were trying to protect me! That is soooo sweet!” It felt a bit funny to hug him, though. Not as satisfying as it should be, given that he was smaller than she was, now. And that’s not how it’s supposed to be…it’s been great to try this body out, but I think I want my own back now. “This color washes out too,” she promised. “It’s a magical party dye, it’ll be gone soon.”

“I certainly hope so,” Adahn said, sounding more than a little mistrustful.

“I still think you look great in it though. Really. Very dangerous.” And hot!

“I…see.” He was still watching her with a very intent look in his eyes that sent little shivers down Imoen’s spine. This was further aggravated by the fact that he hadn’t stepped away from her yet, but was standing really close, looking up at her. “Well, I think I will have to be the judge of that. It’s about time you took custody of this body of yours, and let me get back to mine.”

“What? How? You figured out how to break the curse?”

“I believe I have, yes,” her Cuddles said, still watching her in that odd way as if he was trying to gather his nerve. Which was silly to say the least. She had never known him to be nervous about anything. “Unfortunately, you may find the means of it somewhat distasteful.” He cleared his throat. “You see, I thought about that phrase ‘lovers’ parting release will send’. Now, we certainly are not lovers, and I don’t want you to think that I’m even remotely suggesting making such a rude assumption, but all the same that is what we have to work with.”

“So?”

“You are a bright enough girl. Think about it. What is the customary way of parting, between two lovers?”

Imoen thought about this. Then she drew a deep breath, and she could feel her heart beating much faster than before. Also, her skin felt as if it was on fire. “Oh…oh! D’you mean…you do! Whoah…I mean…oh! Go on, go on!”

Adahn sighed a little, and then reached up to put his hands around her neck, drawing her face down towards his own. As their lips met, Imoen’s mind more or less stopped forming any coherent thoughts whatsoever. All there was in the world was sensation. Soft skin brushing against her own, and heat, wonderful heat. She closed her eyes, clinging to him, determined not to let go, ever. Who needed breathing, anyway? Not her. Not if she could get kissing. And then there was a tingly feeling, sweeping all over her, and something was different. She was craning her neck backwards, not looking down any longer, and the body pressing against her own was hard, not soft. As she opened her eyes, she found herself looking into eyes as dark as the approaching night. Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! YES!

She had half expected him to stop at that moment, but still the kiss went on, even lovelier than before. His arms were firmly wrapped around her waist, she thought his skin looked a bit flushed, and there was a vaguely dazed look in his eyes.

Then he suddenly pulled back, taking a hurried step backwards, and she wanted to scream at him not to stop, to grab him by the throat and make him kiss her some more, and more and more and more. Only she couldn’t. She didn’t think she could manage to speak at all at the moment. “Well…” Adahn said, and he sounded strangely pensive. “That…that certainly seemed to work. And it was…very…very…” He was still holding onto her waist, but suddenly let his hands fall to his sides, then looked at them as if he’d never seen them before. “Was it all right for you?” Then he startled as if he’d shocked himself, and now there was definitely a flush to his cheeks. “The…spell lifting I mean. Yes. That is what I was referring to. The spell. The spell that we just lifted.”

“Uh…” Imoen managed.

“I do hope it didn’t come as too much of a shock – I had meant to break it to you gently, but then I thought that it would be better to get it done and over with. Please believe me, I normally never would have done such a thing, not something that sudden, I can’t imagine what I was thinking…”

“Uh?”

“Imoen?” Now he sounded seriously worried. “Imoen, I am sorry. I honestly did not mean to scare you like that. I only wanted to get us back to normal, not to take advantage of you in any way. I would never do that, not under any circumstances.”

“Uh…” But I want you take advantage of me! I want you to…to tear my clothes off and ravish me, although maybe we’d better close the window and pull the curtains first…oh, no curtains. But who cares about curtains! Ravish away!

He was holding her hands now, which was nice but not nearly as nice as kissing, and those lovely eyes were warm with concern. “Imoen, please talk to me. I am truly sorry.”

“Uh…uh!” Finally she managed to find her voice, or at least enough to croak. “No…need! Am fine!”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh!”

“Well…if you are absolutely sure.” He ran his fingers through his hair, then shook his head a little ruefully. He seemed to have more or less recovered his usual poise though. “Pink…now then, I believe it is well past time I brought you home. Are you ready?”

“Um…just a second!” Imoen squealed as she suddenly remembered something. She got onto her hands and knees, and hauled some tightly rolled bits of parchment out from under the bed, then cradled them protectively into her arms.

“And what might that be?” her Cuddles asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically at her.

“Oh…just some sketches,” Imoen hurriedly said. “Wann
Rogues do it from behind.

#2 Laufey

Posted 20 September 2004 - 08:57 PM

"Wanna...wanna see?”

“Maybe some other time. Right now, I think I really ought to take you home. I wouldn’t put it past your druid friend to check your room at some point during the night. If she should find you missing she will be even more firmly entrenched in her delusion that I am somehow a fiendish threat to your virtue. A…laughable idea, really. Surely.”

“Right,” Imoen said, hanging her head. Still thinks I’m just a little girl, does he? “Adahn? It wasn’t all horrible, was it? Being me, I mean?”

“No Imoen,” he seriously said, and she could tell that he meant it. “Being you is…not a bad thing at all.” He smiled at her. “In fact, I would have you be no other way. Much as you get under my skin at times.”

Imoen basked in the full force of that smile, knowing that he meant every word. It felt…almost as good as a kiss.
Rogues do it from behind.




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