Post by Shardy on Jan 18, 2007 5:37:26 GMT 1
Title: Woes of the Self-Denying Romantic
Author: Shardy
Pairing: Artemis Entreri x Catti-brie
Fandom: Forgotten Realms
Genre: Humor
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by R.A. Salvatore. Forgotten Realms is owned by Ed Greenwood and others, and by Wizards of the Coast.
***
“You brought this upon yourself, you know, you have no one else to blame,” Jarlaxle scolded, sounding very much like a doting mother with disturbing accuracy. Arms crossed over his chest and tapping his foot, the drow mercenary gazed upon the pathetic creature lying in miserable confinement on the bed. In return, Artemis Entreri glared hatefully at the jeering dark elf. It was humiliating enough that the normally invincible assassin had been rendered helpless by an illness commonly found among those who stayed out too long in wet weather.
All the more reminder that Artemis Entreri was not as young as he used to be. Rain never bothered him in his twenties and thirties, but now that he was fast approaching fifty, he felt as if he was lying on his deathbed. He was covered to his chin with heavy blankets that he would throw off when he became too hot only to practically freeze and reach for them again a few minutes later. A glass of water sat untouched on the small table next to the bed, which stood over a metal bucket that Jarlaxle had placed on the floor just in case. The town doctor had said that Entreri’s illness was minor and common and that he would be up and running as long as he got plenty of rest and plenty of water during the next few days. In spite of the assurances, Entreri acted like he was experiencing the final moments of his life.
Jarlaxle found it all quite entertaining, really.
Oh, Entreri was well aware of the drow’s amusement at his expense. It was nothing new, and Entreri had learned to take Jarlaxle’s teasing in stride. However, the circumstances were far from usual, and right now Entreri decided that his last act on Toril would be to stick his dagger in that damn drow’s throat!
Except that any though of moving, even to just turn over from his back to his side, caused his stomach to lurch most unpleasantly.
“What…are you…talking…about?” Entreri managed to growl, pitifully so, despite the fact it felt like cotton had been stuffed down his throat and his tongue would forever be stuck to the ceiling of his mouth.
Jarlaxle snorted and rolled his eyes. “Artemis, dear,” he began, once again in that obnoxious maternal tone of his, “don’t think I don’t know. I saw you kissing that pretty little red-head. Two nights ago. In the rain!”
Entreri didn’t react.
Not yet, anyway.
“And get this,” Jarlaxle continued, “turns out Drizzt and his friends are here in town, and Catti-brie, a pretty little red-head herself, is currently suffering from the same sickness you are that she got from too much exposure to the rain exactly two nights ago. Now, I don’t now about you, but it doesn’t take much for me to put two and two together.”
In his weakness, Entreri’s expression went from deadpan to mortified and there was no way he could hide it.
With a smirk, Jarlaxle sashayed back to the door. “Soup’s almost ready. Better eat good if you want to recover.”
Entreri moaned in protest. Eating was a concept too horrible to think about. He struggled to keep the bile moving up his throat at bay.
Before he departed, Jarlaxle paused and then turned around as if an important thought just then occurred to him. “You know, I’ve never really pegged you for a die-hard romantic. Kissing a girl in the rain and all. A little cliché, but I guess you have to start somewhere. You must be really smitten over Catti-brie, I suppose.”
He was instantly out of the room, slamming the door behind him, when a dagger flew his way. Not that it would have mattered. The weapon was weakly thrown and poorly aimed, clattering to the floor a few feet from the bed and far left of the intended target. The reflexive move cost Entreri dearly, though.
On the other side, Jarlaxle cringed when he heard the most rancid retching sounds erupting from within the room. When the noise died down a few moments later, the dark elf creaked open the door and cautiously poked his bald head inside.
“Ahhh, Artemis!” he exclaimed in disgust and horror. “I told you to aim for the bucket!!”
***
-End-
Author: Shardy
Pairing: Artemis Entreri x Catti-brie
Fandom: Forgotten Realms
Genre: Humor
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by R.A. Salvatore. Forgotten Realms is owned by Ed Greenwood and others, and by Wizards of the Coast.
***
“You brought this upon yourself, you know, you have no one else to blame,” Jarlaxle scolded, sounding very much like a doting mother with disturbing accuracy. Arms crossed over his chest and tapping his foot, the drow mercenary gazed upon the pathetic creature lying in miserable confinement on the bed. In return, Artemis Entreri glared hatefully at the jeering dark elf. It was humiliating enough that the normally invincible assassin had been rendered helpless by an illness commonly found among those who stayed out too long in wet weather.
All the more reminder that Artemis Entreri was not as young as he used to be. Rain never bothered him in his twenties and thirties, but now that he was fast approaching fifty, he felt as if he was lying on his deathbed. He was covered to his chin with heavy blankets that he would throw off when he became too hot only to practically freeze and reach for them again a few minutes later. A glass of water sat untouched on the small table next to the bed, which stood over a metal bucket that Jarlaxle had placed on the floor just in case. The town doctor had said that Entreri’s illness was minor and common and that he would be up and running as long as he got plenty of rest and plenty of water during the next few days. In spite of the assurances, Entreri acted like he was experiencing the final moments of his life.
Jarlaxle found it all quite entertaining, really.
Oh, Entreri was well aware of the drow’s amusement at his expense. It was nothing new, and Entreri had learned to take Jarlaxle’s teasing in stride. However, the circumstances were far from usual, and right now Entreri decided that his last act on Toril would be to stick his dagger in that damn drow’s throat!
Except that any though of moving, even to just turn over from his back to his side, caused his stomach to lurch most unpleasantly.
“What…are you…talking…about?” Entreri managed to growl, pitifully so, despite the fact it felt like cotton had been stuffed down his throat and his tongue would forever be stuck to the ceiling of his mouth.
Jarlaxle snorted and rolled his eyes. “Artemis, dear,” he began, once again in that obnoxious maternal tone of his, “don’t think I don’t know. I saw you kissing that pretty little red-head. Two nights ago. In the rain!”
Entreri didn’t react.
Not yet, anyway.
“And get this,” Jarlaxle continued, “turns out Drizzt and his friends are here in town, and Catti-brie, a pretty little red-head herself, is currently suffering from the same sickness you are that she got from too much exposure to the rain exactly two nights ago. Now, I don’t now about you, but it doesn’t take much for me to put two and two together.”
In his weakness, Entreri’s expression went from deadpan to mortified and there was no way he could hide it.
With a smirk, Jarlaxle sashayed back to the door. “Soup’s almost ready. Better eat good if you want to recover.”
Entreri moaned in protest. Eating was a concept too horrible to think about. He struggled to keep the bile moving up his throat at bay.
Before he departed, Jarlaxle paused and then turned around as if an important thought just then occurred to him. “You know, I’ve never really pegged you for a die-hard romantic. Kissing a girl in the rain and all. A little cliché, but I guess you have to start somewhere. You must be really smitten over Catti-brie, I suppose.”
He was instantly out of the room, slamming the door behind him, when a dagger flew his way. Not that it would have mattered. The weapon was weakly thrown and poorly aimed, clattering to the floor a few feet from the bed and far left of the intended target. The reflexive move cost Entreri dearly, though.
On the other side, Jarlaxle cringed when he heard the most rancid retching sounds erupting from within the room. When the noise died down a few moments later, the dark elf creaked open the door and cautiously poked his bald head inside.
“Ahhh, Artemis!” he exclaimed in disgust and horror. “I told you to aim for the bucket!!”
***
-End-
