30th Coll, 2044
Adria was feeling no pain as she waited outside the True Point Tavern. After her evening with Bree and the following merriment, she was warm and relaxed, satisfied with the outcome of her manipulations. Rationally, she knew it was likely the brandy and whatever else she had drunk that night that was granting her this brief period of peace. She felt more like her old self than she had in months, as if she had banished the little stormcloud that had darkened her life since the night Jerryn was captured. Maybe she was just drunk enough to not care. She had been so careful this whole trip to play the noble, but for the life of her she couldn't remember why. It was so much fun to shock people every once in a while.
Adria giggled to herself, remembering the look on Sturm's face when she drug him on the dance floor. If anyone needed to be thoroughly seduced, it was Sturm. The man was wound so tight it was amazing his hair wasn't rigid. Too bad she didn't take charity cases. However, the names of a couple of Portsdale girls who liked professional challenges popped to mind . . .
Adria made a mental note, hoping she would recall the idea in the morning. She had a feeling she wouldn't be concerned with much more than getting on the right ship. What was the name of it again? Adria began giggling again as she realized she had forgotten. My, Wartie is going to be mad . . . Oh, but she still knew where her apartment was. Nevermind that she wouldn't be sleeping there tonight. Adria frowned. Where would she be sleeping? I just won't go to sleep, she thought. I have one night left, one last chance to play. Why bother sleeping? I will do plenty of that on the ship.
Adria wandered into the middle of Falagos square, drawn to the fountain and the splashing water. I'm not that drunk, she thought, noting that her walk seemed steady enough. Feeling confident, she got up on the wide stone lip around the fountain and began to pace the circumferance of the pool, humming a ballad. Maybe it was the summer air, maybe it was her mood, maybe it was the company, but she hadn't felt this carefree in a while.
Speaking of company, where was Bilbus? Did he have to say goodbye to everyone in the tavern? Adria shot a glance at the door, but continued walking around the fountain, wavering a little when the wind gusted. Her conscience murmured uneasily in the back of her skull, a tiny whisper of thought that made Adria smile like a pleased cat. No, it wasn't a smart idea to go with Bilbus to the Salty Anchor, but she was doing it anyway. Yes, she knew full well she was headed for trouble. She expected it, actually. Adria smiled a little wider. What would her last night be if she didn't get in trouble?
Having slipped a few coins to some old friends of his, Bilbus had left Strum in the capable hands of two very lovely ladies out on the dance floor. Bilbus had no idea what was in store for he and Adria this evening, but had a feeling that the statuesque knight would be enjoying himself. With one last wave to the barkeep, he slipped out into the warm Londoun evening before Kasey and the rest of his traveling companions saw him go.
The thief spotted Adria easily enough, dancing a weaving step along the rim of the ancient fountain. Dedicated to a long-forgotten naval captain, the bronze statue that had once stood proudly atop the marble terrace in the center of the spraying water had been removed years ago. Bilbus had spent many an afternoon staring out his window at the blank pedestal, and had often wondered what the man had looked like. There was an inscription encircling the basin of the fountain, but it too had fallen to the armies of time. Bilbus didn't know the old captain's name, but he knew that the man had commanded a ship called Victory. He also knew that they both shared a love of the ocean, and for a long time they had also shared a lonely fountain in the middle of an aging marketplace. He and the old captain had seen many people pass through this square, but none quite like the girl playing in the water tonight.
Bilbus stepped up to the fountain, lighting a bakka stick as he did so. Taking a deep puff of the vile material, he let the acrid smoke fill his lungs while he waited for Adria to complete her happy circle along the rim. Bilbus realized pretty quickly that he was very close to drunk. Letting the air out of his lungs in a slow, steady stream, Bilbus smiled at the blonde as she dropped off the raised rim.
"Nice night," he said, flicking the bakka stick into a bed of overly fragrant roses.
"Ready to ditch the goody-goody types and raise some Hells?"
Adria flashed Bilbus a grin, bright and infectious. "I may only have time for one Hell tonight, but we'll see what we can do. First, we need to visit some friends of mine. Follow me." She pivoted on her heel, deliberately, and started walking in the direction of her apartment.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and noted his rather dubious expression. "Don't worry, you'll like this. Perzik and I used to do this all the time back home, it's almost tradition, but . . ." with a wave of her hand she indicated the empty air "no Perzik. So you'll just have to be his replacement. I have a feeling you won't mind. You have the job skills." Adria chuckled to herself. "What would a visit to Londoun be without payback time," she said to no one in particular, her voice holding an acid edge.
The noblewoman settled into a long-legged gait, leading Bilbus through the crooked streets and into the slightly better organized section of Londoun where her apartment resided, in fact, past her very address. Adria glanced up at the dimly lit windows and snorted softly. "What do you think - did that do the trick for our lovesick friends, or do we have to draw them a diagram?"
"Only diagrams?" Bilbus whispered back as he padded along silently beside her. "I would have thought that they required on hand coaching by this point."
"What?!?" he said, ineffectively trying to dodge her playful shove. "I was just making a... suggestion."
He laughed to himself, trying to get the mental image from his mind as he gazed up at the darkened buildings that they were quickly passing by. Bilbus had occasionally wandered through this part of town to do one job or another, but never in the presence of a noble--no matter how much like a ruffian they dressed. And never drunk. Well, tipsy at least. Nevertheless, this part of town had a fairly decent night watch. A fight with the local constabulary was not something that he wanted to engage in this evening.
"So where are we going anyway?" he asked, making sure that his weapons and thieving equipment were securely fastened.
Adria just answered him with a smile. They were approaching an intersection with another paved, tree lined street. Adria dropped her pace and kept to the shadows, listening carefully for the echoing jingle of chain mail or the rap of a iron capped staff on cobblestone. Satisfied that the street was deserted, she slipped around the corner. This particular area of Londoun was home to some of its wealthier citizens, successful merchants and lesser nobility. The houses were two, sometimes three stories tall, with carefully manicured lawns fenced off from passers-by. Adria stopped at the fifth home from the corner, mostly cut off from view by a tall stone wall.
"Welcome to the Londoun home of the del Garets," she said quietly. "Family friends who moved here from Portsdale some years ago. I have a little score to settle with them." She raised the latch on the iron gate and eased it open. Inside, the yard was freshly trimmed, marked by a path of small white stones and littered with elaborately designed flower beds. Several fruit trees lined the perimeter of the wall. Adria got out her dagger and began to carefully select and cut some of the smaller, thickly leafed branches. When she had a good handful, she stopped.
"Now to get to the roof," she muttered, examining the house with narrowed eyes. The stone wall did curve in towards the house to separate the front yard from the back, giving one a convenient boost to the window ledges of the second story, but there was also a large tree in the backyard that looked promising. Perzik had been the superior climber by a long shot, and he had always had an instinct for picking the easiest route. "Suggestions?" she asked Bilbus under her breath.
"Del Garet," he thought to himself, "now why does that sound familiar?"
With a shrug, Bilbus put it out of his mind, it was probably just someone who's pocket he had once picked. And if he found the guy worthy of a mark, then what's a quick B&E? Then again, that made way too much sense right now, he really had to learn to stop after the second Scotch in the Valley.
"Suggestions?" the thief replied, looking over the grounds. "Well, several actually: We could scale the wall and up the side of the manor, or climb the trees to the back deck on the second floor. We could even toss a rope over from a neighbor's house and slip into that partly open window on the third level. Sadly, any of those could alert the inhabitants inside. I'd hate to try anything that would call in our friends in chain mail... But why try, when you can fly?"
He stepped into her close, bearing a sly smirk on his face. With a surge of icy heka he lifted them both off the ground with a silent woosh of air. A few leaves attempted to follow them up, only flutter back down to the soft ground moments later. Vaulting up and over the decorated yard in mere seconds, the two dark-clad figures were almost invisable against the starry sky.
"So," he said, laughing at the absurdity of the situation, "where would you like to land our little circus act?"
Kuso! Adria thought, her heart in her throat. I forgot he could do that! She had thrown her arms around his neck on instinct and was now clinging with a death grip. She realized she should probably relax a touch. Carefully, she peered over his shoulder at the very empty air between them and the del Garet residence below.
He did that on purpose, she thought, feeling his breath against her neck. What a cheap ploy. Her mouth quirked of it's own accord. Game's on. She almost, but not quite, forgot that she was uncomfortably high with nothing tangible to support her.
"Down. Roof. Now. Showoff."
"But it's such a nice night," he responded with a sweep of his hand. The city lay out before them like a cooling bed of coals, the darkened landscape broken here and there by the twinkling of lanterns and lampposts. "Take some time to stop and smell the pigeons..."
Bilbus almost laughed out loud at the glare she gave him, but decided that it probably wasn't the smartest move. With a slight bob and weave he headed them over to the flat roof of the manor.
"Okay, okay, we're going down. Watch to not land too hard, we don't want to make any noise."
With nary a sound he set them both down on the tiled roof amidst a small forest of chimneys and ventilation ports. He padded over to a promising one, easily prying off the hatch and peering into the disused attic below.
"Ok, we can descend into the house from here. But I have one question first; Is this just a standard break-in, or are we after something special?"
Adria was pleasantly surprised when she didn't fall over. Oh good, I can stand on my own, she thought. He scared half the brandy out of me.
When her legs seemed steadier, she transfered her attention to studying the layout of the roof. So if the front door is there, and the kitchen is in the back to the left, then the chimney I want is . . . there.
"Put that back - we aren't breaking in," Adria murmurred. She switched to thieves' sign, tucking the branches under her arm. "They have second-rate taste, tacky furnishings even if they are from Itala, and Lady del Garet favors family heirlooms that would look much better decorating a rubbish heap." She mock shuddered, then carefully walked over to the kitchen chimney and sat down crosslegged in front of it. Gently, she loosened the pins that fastened a metal grate over the opening and lifted it off.
"Summer is a perfect time for this," she signed with a grin. "No fire."
Bilbus looked confused, but she ignored him and started digging in her belt pouch. She pulled out two small vials of poison, a vial of acid, and a vial that was unlabled. Adria frowned at it, tapped it with her finger, and set it aside. At the bottom of her pouch there was a muslin wrapped packet of herbs. Adria pulled it out, chuckling to herself. With an exaggerated motion she held it over the open chimmney, eyes wide and innocent, and dropped it down the shaft.
"Oops."
She reached for the branches, took out a knife, and began to strip one of it's leaves. "Goodness, that's really going to stink when it burns. Wouldn't it be awful if something stopped up the chimmney? I wonder how long their house would reek."
"A stinkbomb!?!" Bilbus replied, perhaps a bit too loudly, "You're hitting them with a stupid stinkbomb?"
Closing the ventilation shaft and dusting the area with soot to make it look untampered with, Bilbus quietly padded over to where the blonde was shoving leaves into the small kitchen chimney.
"Well, I have to admit that it's rather appropriate," he whispered, peering over the rim into the small, dark shaft. "Pity that we don't have a few more..." the thief said, his eyes wandering off to the other noble houses lining the dark street. Looking back, he saw that Adria was quickly running out of leaves.
"Here," he said, placing a hand on the lip of the chimney. Channeling a steady flow of heka through the brick and mortar, he caused the mouth of the flue to shrink to an impossibly small three inches across. Bilbus laughed to himself, not really expecting the spell to work.
"That should help matters some," he told Adria, "and by the time they get up her to check it the spell will have worn off."
"So, where to next?" Bilbus asked, "I don't know about you, but I could use a drink."
Confused, Adria stared at the suddenly tiny chimney, ready to shove another handful of sticks and leaves an opening that no longer fit her hand. Funny, I didn't think I was that drunk. She looked up at Bilbus and comprehension dawned. Oh. Right. Him.
"Well, that's efficient," she muttered, and got to her feet. "Pity I won't be around to see the results, but I guess there's some consolation in knowing they'll think of me long after I'm gone. May Lady Clairissa start a new fashion in Londoun - perfume a la refuse." Adria figured out which corner her room was in and made a rude gesture in that direction. "Pushy little bitch."
Adria wiped her hands on her armor and sheathed her knife. "That was fun, but now I'm out of stinkbombs and I don't have any paint, either. Salty Anchor next?" She realized she was still on the roof of a three story building, and she put her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. "You're going to do that flying thing again, aren't you?"
Bilbus laughed at Adria's unexpected outburst, he had never expected the noble to express herself so openly. Of course, the staggering amount of alcohol they had both consumed earlier that evening probably had something to do with it.
"Flying thing?" he asked, "Oh yes, that is how we got up here..." Bilbus looked around the darkened roof, for a short while at a complete loss as to how to get back down. There was usually a rope or something wasn't there? Oh yes, she said fly didn't she?
With a grin that would have scared an alley-cat, he slid his arm around Adria's waist and stepped off the edge. Held aloft by gossamer strands of heka, he propelled them up into the sooty Londoun sky.
"Don't worry!" Bilbus called out above the rush of the wind, "The Salty Anchor is around here somewhere!"
Stopping to get his bearings, they began slowly drifting past the Tower. Bilbus set course in the general direction of the ocean when the whistle of something streaking past them caught his attention.
A second later an arrow slammed into his necklace-generated shield with an audible thump. Grasping on to the petrified Adria, he dropped them to street level like a stone falling.
"Umm, maybe we should walk from here?" he suggested as they touched down in a dimly lit side street.
"Walking. Yes, walking is good," Adria exclaimed, opening her eyes, happy to be on solid ground at last. She backed away from him a couple of steps, discovered her legs were unstable, and sat down hard in the street.
"Oh, I'm going to get you for that, Bilbus. Mark my words." She frowned up at him, aware of how fast her heart was beating. "And I'm sure, if I were going to spend more time in Londoun, that threat would actually mean something."
For lack of anything better to do, Adria tried to kick him in the shin. Sadly, it wasn't very effective from her current position. "Could you give me a warning the next time you try to go south for winter?"
"We were, in fact, heading north," Bilbus said as he took a tripping sidestep into the nearest wall. He was attempting to avoid her futile kick, but probably did more damage to himself in the process.
"Hey, watch those things," he said, waving a hand at her legs, "they're dangerous weapons."
Bilbus extended his hand to help her up, simultaneously pulling himself off the wall. He figured that she wouldn't be too offended, the scotch was obviously starting to take effect on both of them. He pulled Adria to her feet and began to make the first witty comment that came to his mind when he stopped suddenly. Mouth hanging open, he cocked his head slightly.
"We're being followed, city guard in chain, probably from the Tower," he whispered into her ear in a hushed voice.
With a quick look both ways down the street, Bilbus stared at her and waited for the world to catch up.
"We head west and fast. We can loose them in the market district and then it's a quick jaunt to the Anchor."
"Just remember," he said with a smirk as he started running, "there's ale waiting for us at the end!"
Adria was briefly stuck wondering how many of the guards there were and if she and Bilbus could take them on, but then she realized Bilbus was halfway down the street and she should probably catch up. Adria shrugged and broke into a sprint. Fortunately, speed was one of her strong points.
She followed the thief through the streets, glad she could keep up or he would have easily lost her. Londoun almost as much a maze to her as it had been the day she had first arrived. Chalk that up to noble insulation. She recognized the market sector when they reached it, threading through the empty and closed wooden stalls, the rows of tiny shops. The sounds of chainmail had faded and Adria figured they'd lost the watch. She slowed her pace a touch, running quiet, listening. Her speed was still there, but her endurance had suffered from the long sea voyages when she ate little and spent most of the day spelled into sleep to keep the food down. Between that and the liquour, she was developing a stitch in her side.
Adria finally spotted a darkened side street and she ducked into it, grabbing Bilbus by the back of his armor and yanking him into the shadows. He staggered against her, pinning her against the wall.
"I think they're gone," she whispered, pushing him upright. The pain in her side eased a little. She glanced overhead, happy to see the wrought iron balcony that had been attached to the wall of the second story. With a good jump she was able to catch the bottom of it and let the weight of her body stretch her stomach. "It's been a while since I had to run from the guard," the noblewoman said with a grin, hanging in midair.
"Now that's just cruel," he thought to himself. Supressing an otherwise chraming lopsided grin, Bilbus looked at the beautiful girl suspended before him as neutrally as he could manage under the conditions. She really is amazing...
"You really should do it more often," he replied. "It's a wonderful way to stay in shape, not like you need it..."
Slowly letting the smile creep to his face, he involuntarily took the half step that seperated them. Standing face to face with the slowly swinging assassin, Bilbus was for the second time glad that he was taller than Adria. The first time was the night that they met, she was wearing a wonderfully low-cut dress.
"When you walked in with that fop del Garet," he finished aloud, finally remembering where he had heard the name before.
"It seems like such a long time ago," he continued, placing a hand on her slim waist. "I can't believe that it's only been a few short months."
Placing his other arm around her in a surprisingly unsexual fashion, Bilbus looked into her eyes in a way that Rishalla would swear on his own mother's grave that was never possible for the thief.
"You know, my dearest noble, I think I'm actually going to miss having you around."
Adria's eyebrow quirked of its own accord. She had been thinking along several trivial lines, mostly cursing ships in general and the Aquasition in particular, remembering the winter when she and Perzik had discovered that soldiers didn't run well on ice and were lots of fun to taunt until they got their crossbows working, and wondering if she could break someone's neck with her legs while hanging like this. Suddenly, it all seemed unimportant.
Well, she thought, letting out a breath she had been unaware she was holding, when he moves, he moves, doesn't he?
Adria finished her stretch to give herself time to frame a reply. It probably wasn't best to act on her first instinct, which would have been fun, but they hadn't gotten that far in the game yet. She dropped to the street, grinning.
"Nice act, but you don't fool me. Who are you and what have you done with the real Bilbus? And is it permanent?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.
"You'll miss me like you miss a thorn in your foot. But I do have a replacement in mind. I'm sure Lady Clarissa would fill the requirements for being a pain in your ass. If you like to hate the nobility, she'll make a great target. Sure, she doesn't fight duels or play with poisons, but she's twice as picky as I am and even more bossy." Adria began to giggle. "I've even pissed her off for you already." Really, the idea of Clarissa following Bilbus around and berating him in her shrill voice, her gown and slippers ruined by travel muck, was hysterically funny. Adria shook with silent laughter and covered her mouth.
"Wonderful," Bilbus drawled, "more annoying nobles to put up with."
He lightly elbowed Adria in the ribs before half-pulling her down the street.
"I am going to miss you though. Do you think any of the other nobles in this group are nearly as much fun?"
"What I mean to say," he spoke, linking arms with the increasingly weaving Adria as they entered the main street, "You see, what I mean to say is.. is... what did I mean to say? Oh yes, you and I are different than the rest. We actually see what's going on. We might not care, but we see it."
With one final stumble, they rounded the last corner to the Salty Anchor. The numerous patrons were still wandering in and out of the roudy establishment even at this hour. Various deals and muggings were happening in the dark corners all around them, and Bilbus finally felt at home for the first time that evening. With a sweep of his hand Bilbus slipped in a quick handsign to her. It was an increasingly inside joke between them, one that seemed especially amusing tonight.
"After you..."
Adria couldn't help herself. She slid the gold signet ring off her finger, stepped in close to Bilbus and tucked it into one of his pockets. She grasped the collar of his armor and pulled him towards her. "Keep this for me. And if I happen to forget," she said in his ear, "thanks in advance for the trouble you're about to get me into." She kissed him lightly on the neck, released him, and took a few unsteady steps backwards with a smile on her face she knew full well could have melted ice in the middle of a blizzard. She hadn't smiled like that in a long time. She hadn't had a reason.
The former assassin turned and walked up to the Salty Anchor, dropping the last of her noble mannerisms as she went. Irin crept through her, her other life reasserting itself in a hundred subtle ways. Just for tonight, she told herself, humming an off key melody, and then I'll put it away.
The last time she had visited the Salty Anchor she had been reluctantly dragged there by her escort for the evening. It had been the Alban Eiler, and she had felt much like a target at an archery range in her soaked finery. Nothing under the sun could have persuaded anyone that she belonged in the tavern with the ruffians, and the best she could do was adopt a standoffish attitude and hope she didn't have to draw blades. Not the best circumstance to experience the character of the place. Tonight, clad in her armor with the comforting weight of edged steel at her hip and her waist and her wrists, she felt much more at ease. It wasn't home, but it would do, provided the company was right.
"It's days like these I'm glad I joined the Royal Navy," Bilbus whispered to himself. Never mind the fact that he hadn't ever considered signing on to the King's own, Bilbus certainly felt like a sailor on leave tonight.
Following Adria across the street towards the tavern, he happily watched her body language shift from that of a stiff upper crust noble to the sultry cat-like grace of an assassin out on the town. Pocketing her ring into the most secure of the secret pouches sewn inside his armor, Bilbus smiled broadly when she looked back over her shoulder at him.
"By the Gods," he thought, his breath caught is his throat by the merest glace of her heavy-lidded eyes. "I am in so much trouble..." Figuring that he would deal with the consequences in the morning as usual, Bilbus slid an arm around her waist and swept into the establishment with an overly drunk flourish.
"Greetings my friends!" he shouted to the general population of the smoky bar, receiving an equal number of chuckles as annoyed glares. The looks quickly turned to his companion, to which he pretty much expected. She seemed to be enjoying the attention for once, so Bilbus took them on a weaving course through the tables. He said a few hellos to friends before finding a table for them near the back. He didn't see Pete or Twitchy, but figured that they would be in later that evening. What he did see, however, was a barmaid.
"Hello again Amber," he said to the young girl. Daughter of the proprietor and friend to most of the patrons, she was probably one of the few young women who could still walk across Londoun without fear of molestation.
"Bring us drinks from the good keg my dear," Bilbus asked her, sliding a Crown across the table to her.
"That sound good to you Adria?"
"Sounds fine," Adria replied, settling into her chair. She hooked one foot around the lower crossbar and propped the other one on the edge of the table, tipping the chair back on two legs.
"So what's the game tonight? As the saying goes, as long as it doesn't land me in jail, render me unconscious, or involve livestock, I'll play. You get points for teaching me something new, and I do appreciate creativity." Adria grinned at him, mischief in her eyes, daring him to do his worst. "I can't go home, so I guess I'm yours until morning." She sighed with exaggerated despondence, absently tracing one of the many names carved into the table.
"A new game?" Bilbus replied, taking the drinks off of Amber's tray as she returned to their table. Passing one to Adria, he leaned forward in his chair and lit up another bakka stick from the tallow candle in the center of the table.
"Well," he started, "playing 'Spot the King's Secret Agent' is a little pointless in here--we all know that Franklin the Keymaker is our local spy." Bilbus waved to a group of men at another table, getting a friendly wave in return from a popular man with a large key ring and an equally grandiose money bag.
"I have a feeling that you already know Monkey's Paw," Bilbus said with a wink, "so let's try something different." The thief took a golden coin from his pocket, half relieved that it wasn't a Klal. Signalling Amber at the bar, she arrived with a tall thin glass an a bottle of Caledonian whisky.
"Thank you my dear," he told her, tossing the girl another coin.
"I see that you will be needing the spare room upstairs again Bilbus, I'll have it made up for you."
Bilbus squinted at the teenager, playfully shooing her away while pulling a set of ivory dice from his belt pouch.
"This game is called Dunking Drakes, and is a game of chance as well as skill. The idea is simple, get your opponent utterly smashed and steal their wallet."
The thief laughed while placing the coin and the glass on the table between them, "But in this case, we'll forgo that aspect..."
Bilbus poured about two shots worth of scotch into the glass and handed her one of the two dice.
"The game is played by rolling the dice, the one with the highest roll gets the coin. But, if they come up with the same number then it's the first one to grab the coin who gets it. Once you have the silly thing, you have to try and bounce it off the table and land it in this little glass. If you do that, then the opponent drinks--pulling the coin out with their mouth. If you fail, then the opponent gets a chance to dunk the drake. Either way, you fill the glass up if need be and keep rolling."
"Easy enough, yes?" he asked, picking up one of the die and shaking it.
"Not to worry," Bilbus assured her with a wink, "I _usually_ play to lose..."
Cocking an eyebrow at him, Adria let the other two chair legs hit the floor. "Does that mean I should save time and go for the bottle now?"
She let the die roll through her fingers and clatter on the table. "Four."
"Three," said Bilbus.
Adria reached for the coin and tried to figure how much force she should put on it and what spot to hit. She was used to throwing pointy objects. Now, if this were a shruiken, she thought, and then began to giggle. I am going to get sooo drunk and they'll be finding drakes all over this place for the next few years. She pulled herself back together, put a serious frown on her face, and popped the coin lightly against the table. It bounced and sailed merrily over the glass, almost clearing the table before Bilbus caught it.
"Hmm," she commented. "Not a throwing knife. So, um, out of curiosity, what would happen if you lost the coin?"
"Normally there's a group playing, so it's pretty hard to loose a gold coin with a pile of drunks scrambling for it. Actually, it can be pretty amusing."
Bilbus picked up the coin from where it lay across the table and twirled it in his fingers. While he had occasionally used heka in the past to beat a particularly skilled opponent, Bilbus' natural tossing skills were usually good enough to put up a good fight without any assistance. Besides, he had played this game before.
"Nevertheless, you do occasionally lose the coin in the crowd. When that happens, the person who threw it shells out the new coin."
"And in this game," he said, holding up the golden drake, "that can get fairly expensive. So, you try to keep it on the table if you can. No trying to wing the opponent in the head, this isn't a exactly a shuriken."
With a grin, Bilbus lined up the coin about a foot and a half from the glass. Most players did exactly what Adria had done, tried to bounce the coin on its rim. Bilbus had learned long ago that the trick was to chuck it face down, causing it to flip higher and have a better chance of landing in the glass. He threw it down hard with a smack, grinning broadly as it tumbled up through the air and landed in the glass with a satisfying kerplunk sound.
"Drake dunk!" he shouted, rather a lot louder than he had intended. Sliding the glass to Adria, he leaned on his elbow and looked up at her expectantly--a mischevious smirk beginning to play across his face.
"Bottom's up!"
"I think it would be more fun if you could wing your opponent in the head," muttered the former assassin. She took the drink and downed it, carefully avoiding choking on the drake. Making a face at the taste of the liquour, she took the coin out of her mouth and smacked it down on the table. She grinned at Bilbus, picked up the die and was preparing to roll when she heard someone calling her name.
"Who in the hells would know me here?" she muttered, turning in her chair.
"Irin, I thought that was you." She looked up at Theldir, one of the shopkeepers in Portsdale whose store sold more than what was displayed on the shelves.
"Theldir, what are you doing in Londoun?" she asked, surprised.
"I was about to ask you the same question. I'm visiting my other shop here, clearing up some business. What about you? Doing some hunting?"
Adria shook her head, discovered that fast movements were not a good idea. "No more hunting. Got reformed. Have to be a lady now."
Theldir laughed. "Good joke, Irin. You've never been a lady a day in your life."
"You might be surprised," Adria replied dryly. She looked at Bilbus and winked.
"Say, is Jerryn around?" the shopkeeper asked. "I've got something new he might like."
"No, I'm just here with Bilbus tonight."
"Pity. Well, I'm heading home. Stop by the store if you need anything special. And Irin," he waved a finger at her, "be good."
Adria smiled lazily. "Oh, but I'm always good," she purred. Theldir chuckled at that and turned to leave. "Wait -" He stopped. "Would you do a favor for me? Next time you see Perzik, will you tell him I've relocated? He probably thinks I'm dead or something."
"You aren't going back to Portsdale?"
"Nah. I never really liked that town anyway," Adria lied. "Tell him he'll have to break his own arse out of jail from now on."
"I'll tell him. Good night, Irin."
"Thanks, Theldir. I promise I'll buy something really expensive next time I stop by." She waved at him as he left, then turned back to the table. "What the hells was I doing?" she muttered, and then remembered the die in her hand. Brightening, she rolled it on the table.
"Ugh, one." Adria reached for the bottle of scotch and began to refil the glass. "Somehow I get the feeling I'll be drinking this shortly."
Bilbus watched the rotund little man exit the establishment with more than a little curiousity, noting that he flashed a few symbols in the merchant's dialect of the thieve's sign to some people by the door. Something about him didn't quite fit, but Bilbus couldn't quite figure it out. The sign was nothing out of the ordinary--while the symbology was a little unusual from what he was used to, he had learned long ago that the merchants used different means to steal their profits.
"One huh?" Bilbus replied, turning his attention back to the game. "That shouldn't be too hard to beat."
Tossing the die onto the table, it bounced off the glass and landed next to Adria's. With the fastest flash of his hand that he could manage, Bilbus grabbed for the coin. Nearly knocking over their assembled drinks in the process, he nevertheless was able to get to the Drake first. Prepared to revel in his small victory, the wind was sucked from his sails when he noticed that Adria wasn't even paying attention.
"Hello? Adria?" he asked, waving the coin to try to catch her eye. She was looking out the door, watching the departing merchant as he jovially wandered up the street.
Bilbus, twirled the golden disk in his fingers before loudly smacking in into the table. It danced up into the air and landed directly in front of Adria. Spinning to a stop, it reflected a flickering beam of light from the candle up into Adria's face like the surface of a small lake.
"Hey Irin," he spoke softly, looking directly at her, "your toss."
Adria snapped out of her reverie. She had been distracted by the thought of writing Perzik a note with a better explanation of her departure, but Perzik couldn't read so the whole idea was fairly pointless. The back of her neck prickled when Bilbus spoke her second name. He didn't know Irin. In her muddled state Adria didn't understand why it would matter what name he used, but it bothered her none the less. It brought her dual nature into sudden, sharp focus. Nobody had ever used both her names but Jerryn.
How odd, she thought. I'm acting like Irin, I'm drunk, but the name doesn't fit. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on her, and even the cold reality of the coming morning just seemed to make it more funny. Adria was drinking with a thief in a scummy tavern, not Irin. Never had the line been so blurred and so distinct at one time.
Adria couldn't help it - the laughter bubbled up like a spring. She almost fell out of her chair she was laughing so hard, and though she tried to make herself stop she could only succeed in containing herself to a giggle. "Oh gods, Bilbus, I'm sorry," she gasped. "Can't explain . . . it's just - you don't know - you never met - and here we are." She succumbed to another fit of laughter. "Adria in a bar - hee hee hee! About as much fun as stomping on a beehive, only noisier!"
She held her stomach and slid down in her chair until her chin was at the same level as the table, giggling until her aching gut forced her to stop. The alcohol and the laughter had warmed her up nicely, so she unfastened the collar of her armor to let in some air. The chair quickly became uncomfortable, so Adria levered herself into a standing position and extended her hand across the table with a smile.
"We haven't been properly introduced. Irin. I was named after a dog. Pleased to meet you, or should I say, drunk to meet you, but you already know that."
"A dog?" he replied, looking down the open front of her armored top, "I'm having a hard time seeing the resemblance."
Bilbus joined her in standing, balancing himself with one hand while grasping hers with the other. With a wide smile, he shook her hand firmly before collapsing back into his chair.
"I do, however, see a few things that I like."
Bilbus leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and propping his feet up on the table. He took a big draw on his bakka stick and playfully eyed her like a potential employer.
"So tell me about yourself Irin, if that is your real name... If I were to hire your services, exactly what services would I be hiring?"
Bilbus winked at her and waved a finger at the Drake laying in front of her.
"Oh, and feel free to expand a little bit upon your partner while making your toss. What was his name again? Pezryk? Perwick?"
Adria picked up the gold coin. "Perzik. He's just a partner in crime. He's more like a sibling than anything. You wouldn't want to hire him - besides having an aversion to work, he'd probably cheat you blind. As for my job, I'm just part of a humble cleaning crew, m'lord. I take out the trash." She smirked and sat back down in her chair with one leg folded beneath her.
"I'm glad that you like what you see, just remember, look but don't touch," Adria said sweetly, appraising the thief with cool, amused eyes. "I won't be held responsible for the consequences. It would be a pity to ruin you for all the other women in the world." She had watched carefully when Bilbus had succeeded in dunking the drake, so she copied his technique of bouncing the coin on the flat. It very nearly made it in the glass, striking the rim and landing to the side. Next time, Adria thought.
She picked up her die, flashing him a smile. "Shall we roll?" she asked, keeping her face neutral but hoping to catch him on the double entendre.
"Are you sure that's how you want to play it?" Bilbus questioned, picking up his die and shaking it over the table.
"It's one of those rules, that once implimented, can rarely be taken back. Still, it can be a very enjoyable addition to the game."
Tossing the die onto the table, he grinned happily to himself as it rolled up five dark pips. Adria looked less than pleased.
"What I mean to say is, do you even know how that part of the game is played? It can be a very intensive experience..."
The corner of Adria's mouth quirked as she threw her die at him. Bouncing off the front of his armor, it landed near the candle displaying a sinister six.
"Damn," Bilbus mock-whispered to his own die as Adria picked up the Drake, "It looks like she's learning quickly."
Adria ignored him as she tried to line up the shot perfectly, weaving slightly as she did so. Bilbus spun around to prop his elbows up on the table as she took her time calculating. Leaning on one hand, he eyed her over the rim of the glass.
Adria had the shot lined up, so she took it. The Drake hit the table and popped into the air, flipping end over end until it landed in the scotch. Adria gave a triumphant grin, reached out and nudged the glass towards Bilbus.
"Fine, fine," he said, holding up his hands. "I can take a hint."
Slowly grabbing the glass from the table, Bilbus downed it in one swift motion. Sucking a breath through clenched teeth, he waited for the hot rush of pain to subside into the soft warmth of an alcohol induced buzz.
"I usually take it into either a dark alley or a warm bedchamber, but I can take it."
Adria expected him to weave a bit more than he did, and was somewhat surprised when he sat up mostly straight again. Bilbus looked at her with a raised eyebrow as he refilled the glass.
"What?" he asked, "Did you really think that I was as susceptible to drinks as I let on? I expected to fool the knights, even Eric, but you?"
Adria made a face at him. "It's not like I've played Dunk the Drake with you before."
Bilbus laughed as he replaced the glass and bottle on the table, knowing full well that he was still drunk no matter how high his tolerance actually was. It took him a couple of tries to make sure the glasses wouldn't tip over on the roughly-cut and highly etched wooden table.
"So," Bilbus taunted, chuckling lightly as he picked up his die and looked her in the eye, "Are you going roll with me, or are we gonna sit here watching you drown your problems all night?"
"I dunno," Adria said with a shrug. "You can only drown your problems for so long, especially with that stuff. Caledonian I am not." She reached for her die. "As for rolling, well, I don't know that you'd want to play with someone so inexperienced." With a careless flick of her hand she let the ivory skitter across the table. It came to a rest showing four.
Adria looked at him for a moment, mischief in her eyes. "Tell you what, Bilbus. If you tie or beat that, I'll sleep in the stable, and if you go under, you have to kiss me. I should give you a chance to get even, after all. I'd hate for you to feel bitter because I made you spend far too much personal time with Farran. What do you say?"
"While Farran was a unique bunk-mate, the experience is not something that I would highly recommend," he replied.
"Especially since it would be wasting a perfectly good room upstairs," Bilbus continued, holding aloft a brass key dangling from a black ribbon.
"I got it off Amber when she passed by last," he explained, leaving out that she knew full well that he had taken it. A girl doesn't grow up around thieves and pirates all her life and not gain some valuable experience. Although, it was not Amber's experience that was currently in question.
"I know you, you just want me to roll under your number so that you can get the coin."
"Well," he said, remembering their night together in Saltcliffs, "There are worse reasons to loose a round of Drakes."
"But let's sweeten the deal: if I manage to roll a one we both drink, as well as claiming the afformentioned kiss."
Tossing the die high into the air before she could answer, it nearly hit one of the low-hung rafters before returning to the table. Bouncing loudly, it spun like a top before catching the groove of an etched name and coming to rest near the coin.
"Five," Bilbus read. "Well, we can't have that now can we?"
The thief tossed a tiny burst of heka haphazardly at the die, the miniature weave catching both the ivory cube and the coin--nearly flinging both them into Adria's lap. Bilbus slid to his feet and leaned forward to see, bracing himself with the table as the room suddenly swam like a ship at sea. Glancing down, he was immensely surprised to see a single black dot staring back up at him. I hadn't really tried for that...
"A one," he noted, "it actually rolled a one. The Gods must have it in for us tonight."
Adria studied Bilbus. He was doing an exceptional job of looking surprised.
"Maybe they're actually listening to you for once. 'Course, I had no intention of sleeping in the stable," Adria said with shrug. "I have no intention of sleeping at all, really. Mostly, I just get a kick out of winning, and an even bigger kick out of making someone cheat to lose." With that admission she stood up, taking care not to fall over, and began to slowly walk around the table.
"So you think you're going to need that key?" She grinned a predatory smile, but kept her voice smooth as silk. "That's so sweet. Volunteering yourself to educate a poor innocent noble girl, get her drunk and give her one last good time when her defenses are lowest, before she gets shipped off to her bridegroom. Very commendable of you."
Adria finally neared where Bilbus was standing, albeit unsteadily. She knew she had his complete attention. She flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his armor and laid her arm on his shoulder, as much for the extra support as to draw him close.
"But did you ever think," she said softly, looking into his eyes, "that I keep my legs crossed not out of respect for tradition or because my daddy told me so, but simply because I'm picky?" She didn't wait for him to answer, but gave him a light shove backwards that sent him sprawling into his chair and very nearly toppled herself.
"Oh, if only I had a common for every man who thought he could get me in bed, drunk or sober, for money or pleasure's sake," Adria chuckled. "You aren't the first by a long shot, and you probably won't be the last." She casually settled herself in Bilbus' lap, straddling him and hooking her feet into the crossbars of the chair. She brushed her hair away from her face and rested her hands on her thighs.
"You're all the same, you know," Adria murmured, her eyes flicking to his and holding, much like that of a serpent rearing to strike. "You've all got egos the size of Avillonia. So Bilbus, give me a reason why I should let you spoil my winning streak, or maybe I'll just play cat-and-mouse with you until dawn." She flashed him an edged smile. "Lay it on me."
"I'd love to," Bilbus replied, "but we have to discuss my ego first."
He laughed while casually propping one leg up on the crossbar under the front of the chair and risking to rest his hands on her leather-clad thighs. Bilbus figured that they were both drunk enough that either she wouldn't mind or he wouldn't feel the pain as she beat him to death. In any event, she didn't seem to mind, and he thought that he might as well die happy if she did.
"My ego is nothing to take lightly," the cocky thief continued, "it and my sometimes shakey reputation are the only things keeping my buddies here in the bar from heading over to my apartment for easy pickings. That, and they once saw Rishalla in a skirt--it was a scary sight for even the most stalwart of cutthroats!"
Bilbus laughed heartily, shaking almost uncontrollably. He held on to Adria's waist for support gasping for breath. Cracking a terribly charming grin, he looked her in the eye as steadily as he could.
"You want to know the reasons that you should join me upstairs? There are two, and they are simple. First off, do you really want your so-called Noble husband to be the one to break that streak? It seems like a bitter polstice to swallow if you ask me. Why bother holding out for all those years, _Irin_, if you were just going to end up with a noble toad in the end?"
"The second one," he said more quietly, leaning closer to her so that she could hear him over the rowdy din of the other patrons in the establishment. "The second one is the most important one of all."
Bilbus drew her closer to him, whispering in her ear. "You see, my dear Adria, you invited me to come with you this evening didn't you?"
"That," he said as he leaned back slightly, "and you owe me a kiss."
Ooo, the little mouse was trying to fight back! Adria fairly glowed with pleasure. Gods, she loved it when they did that. It made them so much more fun to crush. Nevermind that this mouse could exploit loopholes the others couldn't.
"Your logic is flawed," she said, still smiling. "It's true that I won't have a choice after my wedding, nor do I have a choice in who I wed, but that has been a known fact since as long as I can remember. As for my beloved husband, whoever he may be, he'll never know me as I am, or as you do tonight. I've been trained to be a proper noble wife, and unfortunately that doesn't allow much room for . . . willful behavior." Her smile twisted a little bit, considering her entire personality was willful, bordering on rebellious. "I won't love a man who thinks of me as an object. Besides, it's very likely that after I've done my duty and produced an heir, he'll take a mistress and I won't have to bother with him anymore."
Adria got distracted by one of the one of the holes in Bilbus' armor and she spent a few moments picking at it, trying to decide what sharp object might have caused it. "This is Irin's last night on Oerth, you know. In the morning I'll put all this away and if I'm lucky I'll never look on it again." She reached up and flicked his nose just to lighten the moment, then laughed at his expression.
"As for the question of who invited whom . . . Well, Bilbus, I could invite you to the bloody moon if I wished, but that doesn't mean I'll invite you into my bed." Adria grinned at him, smugly, reveling in her little power play. She ran one finger along his jawline. "And you're going to have to scrape together the guts to claim your kiss. Or does your overburdened ego tremble at the thought of kissing a virgin?" she teased, raising one eyebrow. "Am I really so daunting? As I recall, I kissed you the last time, so it's only fair to switch."
"I don't think you quite understand the concept of ego my dear."
"You have to understand," Bilbus continued, wrapping his arms around Adria as he pulled her warm body close against him. "Ego isn't the fear of failing and thinking that your pride will be bruised. Ego is making out with a deadly assassin in the middle of a bar full of drunken pirates, knowing full well that you still have enough time to run through the little pick-pocket trying to make off with your Drake while you aren't looking."
Adria heard a thunk on the table behind her, something that sounded distinctivly like a golden coin falling from the fingers of a bad thief caught in the act. Bilbus grinned evilly over her shoulder at the unseen cutpurse, and she could feel him making a series of quick gestures in that direction. Whatever Bilbus has said made them take in a sharp breath of fear, followed quickly by the sound of running feet, spilled drinks and loud curses.
Bilbus chuckled to himself, a deep chortle that sounded more like a self-satisfied growl than a proper laugh. He caressed his hands across her back lightly, but was unable to feel anything of the girl beneith the layers of hardened leather. The smell of her hair was intoxicating, and he was having a hard time concentrating.
"Ego is a tool like any other," he whispered, his lips brushing her neck slightly, "if you have it, you can do almost anything."
As if to prove his point, Bilbus kissed her lightly on the nape of her neck, and again on the soft, smooth spot belor her ear. The girl sighed softly, probably despite herself he guessed. The people around them payed no attention to their activities, for all the crowd was concerned they were just two fellow street scum enjoying each other's company for a short while. Strangly, for once, it was actually true. The lines between noble and commoner had not just blurred, but had dissapeared completely. For this last night together they were equals. With that thought burning in his mind, Bilbus pressed his lips against Adria's.
I remember this, Adria thought. It had been a long time, but the memories stirred under her skin, warming in her blood. There had been nights when she had played this game of seduction carefully, mindful of the lines she touched but could not cross, waking power she only intended to abuse. It was petty revenge on her part, empty and unfulfilling, passing the backlash for her own limitations on to her partner with ruthless precision. Irin she might be called, but Irin was only a reflection, a shadow, trapped in a semblance of freedom that never realized itself. She was always Adria under the mask.
Her body remembered the game all too willingly, softened, and she deepened the kiss with her old calculation. A few little movements, shifting her weight slightly, moving her hand to his neck, silently asking him to bend under her will and give up his control. She found her thoughts brushed away, swept aside by a warm rush that sent shivers through her core. Pleasure or pain or both?
Had she been able to think, Adria probably would have blamed it on the scotch or fatigue or a weakness in her own two faced nature. She would have pulled back and regrouped and likely spent the rest of the night playing the same stupid mind games that had kept her safe and untouchable for her twenty years. But she couldn't think. For a brief moment in time, her existence consisted of nothing more than heat and comfort and an electric charge from head to toe.
Then the kiss broke, and Adria found herself jolted back to reality, sitting in Bilbus' lap with her thoughts scattered like dead leaves. Like a finely tuned bell that had been struck, however softly, the resonance flooded her, reminding her of the simple fact that she was lonely and had been for a long time.
Maybe he's right, she thought. Wait a minute, he's seducing me! The bastard is actually seducing me! She was shocked, not by the attempt, but by the success.
So, what if he's right. This is your last night, after all. Time is going fast.
The idea of giving in to him bothered her. She didn't want to lose, particularly not to an irritating thief like Bilbus. Gods knew it'd be a great notch on his belt.
You'll never see him again after the wedding. Give him a reason to shut up, and that'll take care of it.
I don't want to be just an object -
Why? You don't care about him. Expecting him to care about you is wishful thinking, if not downright idiotic. It's not like this can be anything more than a one night deal anyway. Attachments are impractical.
Good point.
It'll piss off father. You could potentially use it as a bit of blackmail. Would be a pity if your bridegroom were to find out accidently - might call off the wedding and cause a scandal. How awful.
Adria almost grinned. So how does one get what one wants while maintaining control of a delicate situation?
Play with him until you find a way.
Adria collected herself, pulling away from Bilbus until she could look at him comfortably. "Not bad," she breathed. "But I've had better." It was a lie; the echoes were still rippling through her, but she wanted to see if she'd catch him off balance.
Bilbus had the most certain feeling that she was lying, but wasn't about to call her on it. The way she moved, the way the subtly reacted, even the way she felt, all belied the fact that she was immensely enjoying herself. Perhaps he wasn't as good as she had ever had, but he was certainly better than she had had in a long time.
The thief knew absolutely that she was no one like he had ever kissed before. All the other women in his life up until this point were commoners and ruffians like himself, some had even been pirates sweeping through Londoun for a night on the town. Bilbus had never even really knew a noble, aside from occasionally robbing them, and had certainly never kissed one before. Not to say that it wasn't for a lack of trying. Many a time he had dressed in the latest fashions and tried to sneak his way into Noble's dinner party. He had even made it once or twice, but it hadn't been long before he was found out and had to quickly take his leave of the revelries for the evening. The nobility tended to hire some rather effective security on occasion.
The girl straddling his lap while lost in her own thoughts was a different story altogether. She could have easily been the highlight of the party as the deadly bodyguard protecting it. Bilbus, no matter how much he hated to admit it, rather liked the combination. He had spent weeks trying to figure her out to no avail. Now, on what was looking to be the last night they had together, he knew her little better than the first night they had met-right here in the Salty Anchor of all places. It was rather fitting when you though about it. But Bilbus knew that time was running out, as even now the crowds were beginning to thin as they wandered father from midnight and ever closer to the light of morning. If ever he was going to know her, it would have to happen soon.
"Really…" he replied, drawing the word out to hint at his otherwise obvious disbelief. "I guess that us thieves really don't have time to practice such persuits in the normal line of our profession."
With a twinkle in his eye he continued, almost daring Adria to admit her lie.
"Nevertheless, the skills can be quite valuable at times. If I'm really so bad, perhaps you would be inclined to give me a lesson?"
"Don't get me wrong, you're adequate," Adria said with a shrug. "But, as I recall, someone said I was 'frigid' and barmaids possessed more warmth in their finger than I ever would, so I'm probably not such a good judge." She blinked innocently and looked at him. "You don't think I'm frigid, do you?"
"Well," Bilbus replied as warmly as he could manage without laughing, "I have no idea who would ever call you frigid, you feel pretty warm and inviting to me."
He chuckled to himself, trying to remember as much of he could about their argument so long ago in Saltcliffs. At the moment Bilbus could barely remember earlier this evening, so he shrugged internally and hoped that he hadn't said anything else as damaging. Still, he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that in the end he had been right. Adria hadn't become his lover, but she had deffinatly done a few things that she had sworn to never do with the thief. He couldn't remember what any of them were specifically, but he was damn proud of them in any event.
Bilbus smiled warmly at her with a certain self-satisfied smirk. It was nothing really challenging, but it had a tendency to get under her skin. Adria always thought that he was planning something against her when he did it. Oddly, by the time she was finished prodding at him Adria had usually managed to give him quite a few good ideas. This time was little different, but Bilbus wasn't patient enough this evening to wait for her to crack-he'd have to draw it out of her.
"So a dog and an ice princess hmm?" he inquired with a squeeze to her lithe waist, "You certainly have some unappreciative friends."
"I'm horribly deprived," Adria agreed, nodding seriously. "But to be fair, I've been known to be less than agreeable at times. I've gone out of my way to be spiteful, perhaps once or twice, and I may have thrown some rocks, or maybe someone's liquor . . . I can't remember. I suppose you could say I have a slight temper and occasionally I may overeact to, um, people. Hard to believe, I know, but I'm not always as nice as other people would like," she said with a smile. "So I suppose I owe them an apology."
She picked at the hole in his armor again. He really should get that repaired. "I don't know much about ego, but I do have quite a bit of pride. Family thing, you know, can't be nice or they'll revolt. Rule with an iron fist. Blood, honor, duty and all that meaningless shit," she joked, sitting up stiff in his lap and pasting a sober frown on her face that she had seen fairly frequently from her father as a girl. She let it drop with a sigh.
"I guess they'll never get their apology. Do you suppose I could make it up to them somehow?" she asked softly, head cocked to one side.
"I could suggest a few ways," Bilbus thought happily to himself. He was suddenly having a hard time drawing his eyes away from the cleavage that had just been so dramatically shown to him when Adria did her Sturm impression. At least that's who he thought she was pretending to be, it could have been her father or great uncle Hogwort the third for all he knew. Not like he cared, it was a spectacular view.
"Ummm," he stumbled, managing to look up at her face, "yeah… what was the question?"
"Oh, wait, making it up to them," Bilbus got in quickly, recovering as best he could. Adria really wasn't showing all that much, despite the front of her armor being undone nicely. Bilbus had admitted to himself, and occasionally quite publicly, that Adria was staggeringly beautiful. Now here she was, sitting on his lap and looking for all the world like the she was planning on giving Hellaen a run for her money in the face that launched a thousand ships department. And what am I doing? Sitting here like a dumbstruck farmboy on festival night. But it's not like I can just carry her up to the room now can I? He sighed, trying to remember what the hells she was talking about.
"Appologize to them? For your behavior? Why in the name of the Gods would you want to do that?"
Is he paying attention? Adria wondered. She had expected him to proposition her somehow, and if he was clever it might not have blown up in his face. For the Gods' sake, she couldn't have given him a better opening if she'd served it to him on a silver platter. What, do I have to come up with the bad lines now? This subtle approach is not working, because Bilbus is distracted by my chest and I'm still in my armor.
"Great bloody hell," she muittered. "It's no wonder we've spent the entire trip bickering."
Adria slid her hands on either side of his head, holding him still. She leaned in and gave him a deep, thorough kiss, figuring if that didn't wake him up he was a lost cause. Ending the kiss as swiftly as it had begun, she looked him in the eyes.
"Bilbus, you're an idiot," she said bluntly. "I mean that in the nicest possible way. I'd strangle you if I didn't like you. Now, if you're interested in cutting the small talk and going somewhere private, we may be able to do business. What do you think?"
"I think we've wasted enough time," he replied, kissing her back just as quickly and forcefully.
"What say we find a way to untangle ourselves from this fiendish contraption of a chair and let me show you the ocean view from upstairs. I hear the sunrises are quite nice. Which is good, as it will probably take us that long to get up there."
Adria unhooked her feet from the crossbars and made an attempt to get up. Sadly, her legs didn't seem to work very well and she found herself on the floor, staring up at the rafters while the room moved uneasily around her. She'd forgotten that whole drunk thing. "I think you may be right," she said slowly. "Can I just stay here for a while?"
Bilbus laughed heartily, knowing full well that he shouldn't for fear of her kicks. Although, her physical attacks had been pretty worthless most of the evening thus far.
"There's an old trick I learned from one of my pirate friends," he told the sprawled assassin, "Nina always said 'Stand up every half an hour, just to see if you still can.' It always seemed to me that it's a good rule to follow. Not like I ever have…"
Bilbus laughed again, this time at himself. Pushing himself to his feet, he gingerly extended a hand to Adria, who was already receiving two other offers from some hopeful partons at the next table. Brushung their arms away, he grasped tightly on to her hand and pulled her to her feet. Grabbing on to one another, they somehow managed to stay standing-despite the fact that they were using little other form of support. Bilbus figured that if sheer willpower worked for heka then it would damn well work well enough to propel them across the room and up the stairs. Pocketing the Drake and grabbing the bottle, the pair dodged a few wildly swerving tables and succeeded in laughing their way up the ancient oak stairs. As luck would have it, or possibly by some solid forethought by the original designers, the first door was the one that matched the key.
The room was small, but the bed was wonderfully large. Bilbus noticed that someone, probably Amber, had lit a few candles in here earlier as well as opened the sturdy storm window to hopefully let in some fresh air. Since the Salty Anchor was near the docks the chances of fresh air making in into the room was negligible, but the thief didn't really mind in the least. Mentally tossing the consequences of his actions out the very same window, he collapsed onto the goosedown mattress with Adria-kissing her passionately and fumbling with the lacings of her armor.
Adria really didn't have much of a chance to think before she found herself on the bed. Then again, she didn't have much of a chance afterwards, either. She was wrapped in sensation, and not all of it pleasant. Finally coming to the realization that the jabbing pain in her side was the hilt of her dagger, she acted out of instinct, grabbed Bilbus' armor and used her momentum to roll him on his back. She sat up, breathing hard, and looked down at the man she was now on top of.
"Wait a minute," she said, confused. "Didn't we just do this?" Then she remembered that she had been in a chair before, and this was distinctly different. Adria shrugged and worked on taking off her weapons belt, which she tossed on the floor somewhere. Coherent thought slowly came back to her as her blood settled.
"We have something to discuss first, you and I. There are a few conditions you need to agree to before we go further."
"Conditions?" Bilbus asked, not completely unsurprised. "What kind of conditions? You're leaving tomorrow, what could we possibly have to discuss?"
"Not a lot," Adria assured him. "But it needs to be done, nonetheless. I've got three things you need to promise me. Right now I'm in a delicate position, um, politically, so I just need to make sure this won't come back and effect my marriage. Unless I want it to, because blackmail is sometimes fun." She grinned and held up a finger.
"One. What happens here stays in this room. Don't tell anyone about this. Not Rishala. Not Pete nor Twitchy. No one. I'm not a notch on your belt." She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to agree, not expecting him to refuse.
"As I'm not even wearing a belt at the moment, that shouldn't be a problem." He started to chuckle, but realized that she was dead serious. Putting off his ambitious, Bulbus propped himself up on his elbows and payed attention.
"Ok, agreed, and two?"
Adria held up two fingers. "Two. Stay in Londoun. Don't get on the boat. Don't come to my wedding. It's not going to be any fun. My father probably won't like you anyway. Technically, I was supposed to be good, and spending time in the company of a thief is . . . not." She wrinked her nose. "I get tired of playing sacrificial lamb to keep my friends out of trouble. Trust me, if word of this were to get out, you would be in trouble. So just stay here. Everyone else will be back to Londoun soon enough, and they can tell you all the gory details. Done?"
Adria expected him to agree to this readily enough. Their relationship had never been easy, and trying to maintain a casual appearance with Bilbus during her time in Portsdale could take more effort than she was prepared to give. That, and if she needed to use this as blackmail she wanted him far, far away.
Bilbus wasn't too sure about this one, he had really been hoping to get drunk at her reception and annoy as many nobles as possible. What's the good of having big knights as friends to protect you from enraged fops if you never use them?
"No boat, huh?" he confirmed, receiving a nod from Adria. He shrugged in nominal acceptance, really hoping that the next request wasn't any worse.
"Three. I want a favor, open ended, payble whenever I choose, for whatever I choose." She grinned at him. "I promise not to ask for something I don't believe you are capable of doing."
This was the one Adria expected him to balk at. It would be the only tie holding them together after the morning. She didn't know if she'd ever need to use it, but the idea of having a small debt owed her on the thief's part seemed fair. Besides, it might be useful.
"You can't be serious," Bilbus questioned, not quite sure what she was getting at. Open ended promises are notoriously dangerous.
"So why am I the one having to make all the promises here? As I recall, you're the inexperienced virgin about to be ship home to daddy."
"Oh, I'm serious," Adria said. Just to be mean, she undid the fastenings on her armor, slid off the jacket and tossed it to the floor, leaving her in a simple tunic. "And I can also get up and leave. Do you want me to leave?"
Bilbus just shook his head and laughed, "You're evil, you know that don't you?" He grinned, slowly walking his fingers up Adria's legs. When he got to her loose tunic he slowly slid his hands against her warm skin, touching her as lightly as he could.
"Two can play at that game you know," he whispered, caressing his fingers across her sensitive stomach. "But we don't have the luxury of time to play games anymore."
"Fine," he capitulated, squeezing her sides just under the ribcage. "I agree to the favor, it's not like after tomorrow we'll ever see each other again anyway."
"Unlikely at best," Adria admitted. She found his touch distracting. It had a tendancy to wreak havoc on her thoughts. Maybe taking off her armor so soon had not been the best idea. Shivers ran up her back, and she had to focus on blocking the sensation. "So you agree to my three conditions? You give your word? You don't tell, you stay in Londoun, and you owe me a favor. Deal?"
"By the Gods, does she ever shut up?" he thought to himself, absently tracing a finger in circles around her navel. She has the most amazingly tight… everything. Smiling widely, his mind drifted off to a thousand happy images while Adria pattered on. Bilbus didn't really intend to ignore her, but he didn't exactly understand what the big deal was either. The alcohol certainly isn't helping matters in the least here, at this point I just hope I don't pass out.
Sadly, despite his tricks and guile, Bilbus was still just a man-with all the failings that that implies. He would have said just about anything at this point.
"Deal?" he confirmed, "Yeah, fine, whatever. It's a deal."
Adria narrowed her eyes and wondered if Bilbus knew what he was agreeing to, but she'd said it very plainly and he was playing with her tummy. How hard can those promises be to follow, anyway? she wondered. A dimwitted child couldn't misunderstand them. As long as the idiot just stayed off the boat, the other two would take care of themselves. Adria made a mental shrug and put the problem behind her to focus on other concerns, because the idiot was doing something just below the waistband of her pants that demanded attention.
"Okay, then," she said. "All yours."
Bilbus had already taken the initiative on that one, and was well ahead of her. After tugging on the intricate knotwork that she employed to hold her armor together, he decided that in order to undo it properly he would have to wait until he sobered up--and since removing the leather straps with a knife was an equally unappealing option, he resorted to throwing a wildly unstable heka surge at them. He was somewhat surprised, as well as extremely pleased when the knotted strands began untying themselves as if they had a mind of their own.
Bilbus looked up at Adria, who for the first time that night looked at peace with herself. The arrangements have been made, the deals had been agreed upon, and the real world was safely locked outside the thick walls of their little room. As the candles burned low they locked eyes as something more than mere acquaintances or friends. Far from the enemies they had so recently been, Bilbus and Adria for a short while were able to take a deep comfort in each other's passionate embrace.