Jump to content


48. Morning After


  • Please log in to reply
No replies to this topic

#1 Guest_Oryx_*

Posted 18 July 2004 - 02:33 AM

This other person did things I wouldn’t do. It wasn’t just that our morals were at odds, there were little character differences too. It’s hard to explain. I don’t believe in possession or the supernatural. I know that in real terms it was me. Fuck it. I’ve been relying on an idea that these things would become clear to me as I wrote them down, but it isn’t turning out that way.

-Alex Garland, The Beach



48. Morning After

A waking inhale and his nostrils were filled with the spicy sting of Calishite perfumes. Onyx opened his eyes, pleasantly feeling Safana’s body against his and focusing on her. She slept lightly by her breathing, he kissed her sun-dappled shoulder and stirred to rise.

"Mmm-mmm," her muffled objection came from her face buried against his chest. Her hand reached up, clasped the top of his head, and yanked it back down.

"Sun's gonna rise-" he managed before being silenced by her lips, and happily discarded his cares.

--

Edwina's long-lashed eyelids fluttered open, and she inhaled the fresh morning air. For a backwater hovel, the lodgings weren't altogether terrible. Through the vodka-soaked mind fog she blearily realized she'd neglected to rememorize spells. (Luckily, with her unfathomably extensive memory she was still better-prepared for another day of adventuring than the fruitcake necromancer or the patronizing Wychalarn could ever hope to be.) And just where had she ended up anyhow?

"Morning, beautiful," the voice was silky and strong, and she focused on the head of red hair filling her view.

Ah yes, that rather commanding she-warrior, her voice was so deep for a woman’s, it took a moment for Edwina to put it all together. That Fist Lady. "Morning,-" (Ah, it was so very difficult bothering with the trivialities of names when one is a master erotician in such unending demand.)

"Oh.." the voice giggled throatily. "Did I even give you my first name? One just gets in the habit with surnames in this line of work....Jenna Vai, at your service." The voice giggled again, and Edwina flushed at the feeling of a rather strategic kiss.

"Ah yes, how very lovely, my flame-haired lover," Edwina mumbled. "You've proven yourself a passable consort and my have the honor of accompanying me on my continuing adventurers. My current retinue of steel-monkey bodyguards could stand for a more stylish and aesthetically pleasing addition. Or better yet, replacement. (Yes, myself and Jenna off on our own honeymoon tracking down and mutilating the raving witch and her hollow-skulled berserker. Romance defined. Career-boosting romance at that. Who says you can't enjoy a working vacation?)"

"You're so funny! It really is adorable. Passable consort..." the voice chortled and giggled. "Appealing as it may be, I'm afraid the Fist has me tied up."

"Oh, I'll keep you tied up and give you a fist..."

"Mmm, you're just the funniest!"

"Hmmp! (If she understood Thay, she'd know how very serious I was. )"

Edwina felt another high-precision kiss, and started. Something felt…wrong. No, no, very right, but something was different. “Jen-?” she halted, suddenly paying closer heed to her own voice. It seemed a bit deeper than it had the past few days. Jenna’s hair tickled her face again, but after the strands brushed across the tickle was still there. Her hands reached to her own chin, and down to her waist (which was a bit wider, but the hips less pronounced than she had been getting used to). She felt a beard and no belt. She wasn’t Edwina, she was Edwin. He was Edwin.

“Eek!” she – no, he – squeaked aloud. Ah yes, it came back to him, in the murky basement of that pipe-and-gold-addicted dwarven miser, they had indeed uncursed the gender-bender girdle after the sword, just for convenience. But if it wasn’t on him now, where was it? Laying upon the floor with his singularly stylish robes, no doubt.

His hand reached around the waist of his lover. Yes, her upper chest was still very nice and curved against his own. Jenna was definitely still...still….wearing his belt. And naught else.

Edwin looked down into the handsome face of Sir Jenna Vai, who giggled again, that deep hearty giggle. “I always was a tomboy. Thank you Ed, and I do hope we meet again in the Gate. You wizards really do keep the most amazing toys.”

Edwin Odesserion fainted.

--

The Flamerule morning was already burning hot when Onyx stumbled up onto the roof of the Jovial Juggler, swearing he could hear the faint sounds of that Red Wizard-ess?-‘s irate wails. The sun was well above the horizon now, not even the rosy light of dawn but the ordinary bright yellow of the day. He knelt on the flat shingling of the roof, pulling his sunrise pendant over his tunic and clasping it in his palms while he closed his eyes and prayed in alternate whispers or silence for a time.

Opening his eyes and rising, he started and turned to find Imoen standing just behind him. He had not heard her approach. She looked very dark in the morning light; she was now dressed in the sunlight-swallowing shadowed leather, she had dyed her hair jet-black to match, and her face was darkest of all.

He balked, feeling sympathy and dread. “Im-?” He was cut off by a hard sting, and his vision reeled sideways. She had slapped his cheek.

“Well what was that for?” he demanded in a near-panic.

“You damn well know what for!” she shrieked, and he noticed she had shadowed her eyelids black too. All in all she looked rather gothic now. “She still loved you and you know it!” She glowered at his chest, the sunrise pendant still hung there, and her eyes expectantly found no other chain or cord about his neck.

“I still have it,” he explained lamely.

“And don’t you think there’s a reason for that?” she demanded, putting black-fingernailed hands on her hips. “Okay, look,” she huffed, backing off as her friend just stared woundedly at her like a deer awaiting the mercy kill, “It’s like really neato the way Safana’s gotten nicer to me and is teachin’ me stuff. I say we keep her around, but she’s like half again our age, Ony! I know the fairytales and the lifestyle you always idolized and this isn’t exactly it. Throwin’ away the fair damsel kept safe within the keep isn’t exactly how the story goes, is it?”

Onyx looked at her, sweating with frustration, guilt, and the heat of the rising sun. During summertime, dawnbreak made a sharp different in the heat. “That’s just it, Imoen,” his voice was fighting back now. “It isn’t a fairytale anymore. I’m running around homeless and fatherless and usually sisterless not knowing where to go. The world outside the walls isn’t what the thought, Immy. Less than twenty-hour hours after it started I’m fighting another paladin! It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I always assumed I’d be choosing a quest and it’d be one I understood, and a rosy aura would light the path at each fork.”

“Oh, I get it now! So that’s why you’re fooling around with a slutty pirate.” Imoen’s sarcasm and anger wwere forced in her voice now though, she too was feeling more afraid than anything as she regarded her own first tenday in the world at large.

Onyx faltered on his feet, and tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. “I haven’t turned out the way I always was so sure I could be. I always knew that the Life would cement my courage and virtue, I could already feel the assurance and the pride. I knew that it all be confirmed and clear. But it hasn’t been like that. I don’t feel only the purity of a guiding principle or a chivalric code. I feel fear, I feel confusion, I feel rage, and I feel lust. I’m not impervious to these as I was so sure I would be, and I’m not going to be granted any boon to render me thus. Because that isn’t the way it is."

“You’re copping out,” Imoen’s face scrunched sourly. “You’re not admitting weakness, you’re preaching it. This isn't about Onyx the knight, it's about Onyx the pal. This is about you and your friends and your love. But one more step and I won’t recognize you.”

Onyx put his fingers aside his nose and kept back tears. “You’re right. It’s just about us, the kids from Candlekeep. I always wanted adventure, and I know you did too. I would wake up from all of this if I could. I want to do good in the world but I didn’t want it to be like this. I didn’t want to wake up in the same bed with Safana this morning, I wanted to wake up in the same bed of flowers as her. But it isn’t going to be like that ever again. Even if I could go back it’s too dangerous for me and for her and I have to stay away. I have to look forward and seek comfort among quest my new life. I didn’t ask for it but no one asked me. There isn’t any going back, Immy. Not for me.”

The last of her anger fell away, and she fell against her friend’s chest and let herself be hugged. “I’m not going back either. If we can’t keep Jade, we can still keep each other.”

He sighed in relief, and was stung only by the sharp, almost venomous scent of her black hair dye. After an otherwise solemn minute in which he nearly sneezed, he broke the silence. “Say, Im…?”

“Yea-huh?”

“This new ‘gothic’ look…?”

“Oh! It was Viccy’s idea. She said if I was gonna be a real sneakthief, not a showythief like Sassyfana, then the more black the better. That’s why it’s her favorite color. She worships the darkness, too bad Shar is evil. Eww”

“Yes, Immy. She is evil. Very evil. Very eww.”

“Anyway, she has all these witchy-herbs and spell components and she made the dyes for me and showed me how make more later. Viccy’s actually not such a meanie when you get her talkin’ about the stuff she likes – erm, will some of it was really twisted but let’s not go there – and anyway, after that she took me out on the town and the farms and showed me how to be better at sneaking around. Like how to use the moonlight to catch the contours of the ground and not step on noisy stuff, and how to keep your body inside a show when you’re movin’ this way and that and…stuff. Oh, this was all last night I mean. We were gonna be splittin’ a room cuz, uh….”

“Because of ‘Sassyfana’ and I.”

“Right…” Imoen glanced at the ground, and up at Onyx again. “I know we’re just friends and all, but…”

“Yeah, I liked tucking in with you better too, Im.”

“Yeah...” She threw herself into him again. They would've hugged longer if the day hadn’t been getting so hot, then went down for breakfast.

--

A spider’s worth of sinewy half-elven limbs flailed at a knock on the door. The male head of this mass opened its mouth to address the knock, but the female head shushed it with a glare. The knocking continued steadfast and unabated, however, and eventually Jaheira herself called, “No room service!”

The knocks now came in a distinct, complex sequence of twelve longs and shorts. Khalid went bug-eyed. He and his wife scrambled to dress to decency, and he went to the door to let in the invoker of the Harper knock. Jaheira was little surprised when the town’s only agent, mayor and high priest Keldath Ormlyr, stepped through. Khalid on the other hand had expected Elminster, and was much relieved, mainly because he’d never appreciated the way the old arcane codger had made been making eyes at his wife for half a human generation.

“Good morning, mayor,” Jaheira irritably folded her arms over her chest.

The mayor inquired of and was given a briefing of their travels, the best of their knowledge as to those of the Zhent-addled company of Jade’s, and most specifically the current leads and objectives of each party. He produced identical sealed envelopes which he handed to the couple, and as they opened and read the coded documents, he spoke in a rather apologetic tone.

“I am quite aware of your last promise and duty to Gorion. I wish now I might have known him better myself in this life, and it has already brought me great joy to see the bright new spark you now steward earnestly questing to bring Lathander’s light to these parts.”

Jaheira was livid upon finishing the text of her summonings. “This can’t be! We are sworn to protect him! He needs our guidance more now than ever! Need I remind you…”

Keldath held up open palms. “I for one am not of the opinion that a morally wayward consort is such a bad thing. It is far more likely to cleanse her soul than sully his own.”

Jaheira seethed, “That’s not surprising coming from one who keeps four nymphs in his, his…“

“...choir?” Khalid offered helpfully. Jaheira ground her teeth.

“Lathander’s ways are to reach out, to accept, to promote exuberance and happiness to energize the soul, to be fruitful of mind and bod-“

“Yes, yes, we’re aware of the libidinous doctrines of the Morning-After-Lord.”

“And,” Keldath held up a finger, “As when you came before, I am still also of the belief that harboring and nurturing the dark drow is more fertile than dangerous. Even if we cast away all hope of truly exemplifying and bringing her to a better life, in your company her ways have been turned to good purposes thus far, and dark though she may be, a mob witch-burning is most certainly not the way of the Dawnbringer. And surely, Jaheira, you must find it more b-”

“Do not patronize the Balance!” Jaheria shouted, then lowered her voice. The walls were mere wood and it wouldn’t do to be overheard. “You cannot do this!”

Keldath sighed. “I am sorry, as I said I could wish no better stewardship for Onyx than your own. But I merely deliver this summons. It is writ by-“

“…Elminster?” Khalid looked cock-eyed as if playing cards had fallen from the sleeves of Keldath’s robes.

“Yes. While Jade’s party would seem to be tracking the bandits just north, there is another, supposedly much larger encampment beyond the Gate, nearly halfway to Waterdeep. That city’s Lords have not seen fit to ride out to scatter it. Those who harp are already spread thin and we could never mount an open battle by ourselves.”

We shall then!” Jaheira demanded. “Our party, Onyx’s party! With his sister’s together. Sixteen in all, and we go north as it is.”

Keldath shook his head. “So many green adventurers is exactly what we do not need. This encamptment is far too large and its officers alone would outmatch them. We need stealth, hence the undercover investigation for which you are summoned.”

Jaheira hissed through her teeth. “This is preposterous. There are dozens of agents who are better suited for this and not so far away as we.”

“I have had you horses outfitted already.”

Jaheira sneered. “We will answer the summons, but our oath to Gorion will see itself fulfilled in the end, and do not think for a moment I do not see through this. Elminster might as well at least be honest and send us own forced vacation. The quack is doing this because he wants our ward’s path divested of us. I have no idea how he thinks it can suit him, nor am I so sure I want to.”

Keldath rubbed his temples. “Jaheira, please, no conspiratorial ramblings. We’ve had quite enough for a continent coming out of the Athkatla cell since Gavalrey stepped in. We rarely see the full extent of Big E’s designs, but the spry wizard always through in the end. You’ll see.”

“It would seem he is hoping we aren’t around to.”

Keldath sighed, and raised his hands in surrender again. “I am on your side, Jaheira, even if, no discredit to your own wisdom and contributions, I do have a more complimentary regard for Onyx and Imoen handling themselves. Please, see to this quest. If you do not, your ward’s will more likely end in failure anyway. If indeed these bandits are all traced to the Iron Throne, you would not want them all ever drawn back south and find them before your party. Let them go to the Cloakwood, they will spend most of their days simply marching in and out of the dense wood, and if you do as directed in your matters you should be done and returned before they are.”

Khalid looked grim, shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded to tear apart his summons to shreds in the customary manner. Jaheira did likewise, fuming all the while.

--

Zhents within earshot, the Harper couple was mum throughout breakfast, Jaheira outright unsettled by Imoen’s very black-on-black look, more so once being eagerly informed of its source of inspiration. Viconia shot her a triumphant look from under her hood. Minsc was tearing down a mountain of pancakes with a ruthless efficiency Kagain compared to that of a hundred dwarvish miners, for the ranger was eager to be on the road and finding Evil Purchase for the sharp edge of his new sword. The rest of the joint party was having difficulty downing their breakfast and keeping it there, the usually food-savvy Garrick worst of all, as Xzar dreamily recounted in unnecessary detail the events of his own night, and bemoaned the cruel dawn and his bride Silke’s shrieking return to the grave. “I just wanted someone with which I could pick flowers and watch a sunrise,” the necromancer wailed into his gruel, “My lady Silke was not the one.”

A green-faced Garrick weakly offered, “She was always more of a night cat.”

Viconia grinned thinly. “Surely there’s no fun in so easy a catch anyway?” Her gaze turned from the bard and necromancer to some of her own party. “Even Safana has the ability to say no…hypothetically speaking at least.”

Safana flipped her pancake-knife to a throwing grip and even Viconia flinched. “Die. Drow.” Her eyes remained wide for a moment, and she nudged Onyx irritably. “I don’t know why you don’t smite the wicked witch. It’s that your duty or something?” The paladin’s face remained lowered and flushed as he seemed to find much worth study in his oatmeal.

“Minsc and Boo think the Evil Witch is not very nice like our Good Witch, but she heals Minsc’s and Boo’s boo-boos and casts spells that ice the Cake of Justice. She is a little evil that helps us toss the big evils into the garbage bin of the greater good, and heroes can tolerate that.”

“Thank you, Minsc,” Onyx looked up. “Well said.”

“Maybe she will be nicer once she sees Boo’s happy hamster dance?”

“Be my guest.”

Viconia looked suddenly hurt at Onyx. “And I’m the cruel one?”

“Yes, Viconia, you are.”




0 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users

Skin Designed By Evanescence at IBSkin.com