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Chapter Text

Two months.

Two months since leaving Earth.

Two months since coming to Toril. 

Two months since I bought the skeleton of Trollskull Manor from Volothamp Geddarm before he could pawn it off on the adventurers he would hire to rescue his kidnapped friend Floon Blagmaar. And with no base keeping them around, they headed out of Waterdeep in search of more work outside the city.

Which I'm sure will totally have no long-term ramifications on the events brewing in the city. Nope. It'll be fine. 

Anyways.

Two months. And after dealing with renovations and guilds and hiring, it's finally happening. I'm unlocking the doors on our opening day. Only to be greeted immediately by a boisterous exclamation the moment the door swings open.

"My dear girl, congratulations!" Volo himself waltzes into the room, flanked by Floon and their other friend, Renaer Neverember. And behind them, quite the large crowd that pours into the taproom. I blink as the group pours into the inn, and my staff, to their credit, immediately gets to work. 

I suck in a breath, suddenly nervous as I step aside with Volo and the boys. "You guys came. Thank you," I say and force out a smile.

"'Course we came," Floon drawls, swinging an arm over my shoulder. "You've only been drinking yourself to death every night from the stress for weeks. Now you get to drink yourself to death for fun. Wouldn't want to miss that now, would we?" he teases. 

"Floon's already drunk," Renaer informs me.

"Shocking, I couldn't tell."

"Annabel, look at this!" Volo exclaims, gesturing around the lively taproom. "The finely carved wood, the cushioned seats! Never have I seen such a marvelous establishment to rival that of even The Yawning Portal! You'll be making back the money you paid for this in no time, just you see!"

"Volo, you're overwhelming her," Renaer says calmly. 

His words catch me off guard. Even more so, the fact that he's right. The smile I have plastered on my face is tense, strained, my jaw clenched. My eyes dart around the room, trying to keep an eye on the unprecedented influx of patrons while also humoring Volo's praise that I don't actually know how to respond to, let alone feel like I deserve.

Volo scoffs good-heartedly. "Apologies, my dear girl. Let us now celebrate your hard work and drink to the success of your endeavor!"

I had quickly become friends with the wizard after I purchased the building from him and spent my nights in The Yawning Portal until my own inn was renovated enough for me to sleep in. But I still frequented the popular Castle Ward inn in the evenings, drinking with him, Renaer, and Floon, after the latter two were rescued from being kidnapped. 

"You got this place up and running fast," Floon remarks as we settle into a booth with our drinks. "No wonder you were so stressed."

"Eh, it wasn't so bad," I say with a drink of my whiskey that makes me cringe. "It was mainly anxiety. I can't take a lot of credit; I just paid other people to do the work."

"Must have been quite a bill you racked up then."

"It still took your own vision and direction," Renaer says. "They way you essentially designed a new floorplan. That was you. You may not have done the manual labor, but the creativity it took to make this place what it is now is yours. Hells, look at the new name. The Grinning Ghost? How do you come up with something so catchy?"

I frown, stiffening. "I can't really take credit for that, either. Either of those things. I...I had some friends that..." I pause, rubbing the back of my head. "We planned out a...hypothetical inn. As, like, a game, let's say. The design and the name, it's all them. Mainly one of them." My chest feels heavy as I pause again before I clear my throat. "Anyways."

The table is quiet for a moment, the sounds of the tavern merely a backdrop, before Volo breaks the silence. "Well, my friend, you are the one who took the initiative, and that is still something! To your success!" he says, raising his glass and taking a long drink, the rest of us following suit. 

"You sound like you miss those friends," Renaer says softly after a moment, his piercing green eyes studying me carefully. I feel myself shift in discomfort under his scrutiny.

"I do. But...I'd rather be here. Missing them, missing my family, it's an...unfortunate side effect of living my new life," I say with care.

Renaer nods slowly before raising his glass as Volo did. "Your success and new beginnings."

The day passes with the three men getting drunk (or in Floon's case, drunker), and me very pointedly avoiding it so I can oversee the proceedings of the inn. Evening falls and slips into night, and the taproom only becomes more crowded and spirited, the North Ward not being home to many inns, and the people excited to try the new one taking over the place of the once decrepit ruins that had been a stain on the otherwise relatively nice and well-taken care of ward of Waterdeep. The tavern is full, the inn rooms booked up, and eventually I find myself struggling to stay awake. "Well, boys. Seems to me like my staff can take care of things just fine, so I'm gonna head to bed," I say, getting to my feet and stretching. 

Ren gets to his feet as well, almost the moment I do, and I catch the slightest quirk of Floon's brow at his friend's behavior. "Would you mind if I escorted you to room, Annabel? I'd like to have a word," Renaer says. Floon and Volo smirk, but despite what they seem to think, I find myself unworried about Renaer's intentions and more concerned about what it is he wants to tell me, his face stoic and serious as he waits for my answer. 

I tilt my head as I study him before giving him a nod. "Of course."

The noble offers me his arm, and I take it, wishing the others a goodnight. We walk through the taproom and up the first set of steps in silence before he speaks, his voice low. "Inns can be a powerful place," he says. "Especially when they're new and popular."

"You want me to listen for information, then, I take it," I say with a huff of a chuckle. 

He grins. "Quick. Yes. Information flows as readily as drinks in places like this." A beat. "You already know what happened to Floon and me. You don't know why."

I prod at the inside of my cheek with my tongue. "Okay. Why?"

He stops at the top of the stairs on the third floor and glances around before turning to face me. This floor is quiet, home only to my own quarters, my office, and a single suite. "You've heard of my father, yes? Dagult Neverember?" I slowly nod. "You know why he was ousted from his position as Open Lord of Waterdeep?" I nod again, my fingers twitching at my side. "The money he embezzled-"

"Ren, should we talk about this in my room?" I interrupt. 

He pauses, a small, almost sly, grin spreading on his face. "I appreciate your discretion, but far be it from me to invade the privacy of a young woman. I am saying nothing that can be...taken advantage of. The reason Floon and I were kidnapped is because the Zhentarim believed I may have knowledge on the location of the Stone of Golorr. An artifact of my father's. I don't. I have not spoken to my father in some time, nor do I have any interest in him or his affairs. But that said, I am worried. For the city of Waterdeep. If you hear anything about the Stone, or anybody discussing...anything that might be relevant to my father and the money he embezzled, please, just let me know. And be sure to take care of yourself as well," he adds softly. "There are dangerous characters about."

I nod once again, my brow furrowed as I stare up at him. "I will. Thank you for the warning."

He watches me for a moment before clearing his throat. "Well. I'll leave you to your rest, then. Have a good night, Annabel." He takes my hand in his, warm, large, and calloused, and presses a chaste kiss to my fingers. "Congratulations on you business."

"Thank you," I say, patently refusing to acknowledge the pounding in my chest. "Goodnight, Ren."

He pauses once again, the ghost of a smile on his lips before he turns and heads back down the stairs. I stand frozen before I mutter, "Fuck," under my breath and going into my room. 

I take my time undressing and preparing for bed, my mind racing with the events of the day, thoughts of my inn and the conversation I just had. Before climbing into bed, my eyes drift down to the ground, and after a moment, I slowly lower to my knees and pry up a loose floorboard by the foot of my bed. In the dim light of my fireplace, I grasp blindly into the dark compartment until I feel what I'm looking for. A large book titled 'Waterdeep: Dragon Heist.'

Chapter Text

Renaer's breath is hot on my ear, his hand sliding up my torso and kneading my breast as he moves slowly, sensually, in and out of my sex with each move of his hips. His fingers slip up to the peaks of my nipples and pinch tightly as his thrusts speed up. I feel myself nearing the edge, the fire building-

A loud bang followed by thunderous laughter coming from the taproom downstairs takes me out of my imagination.

I groan as I pull the toy from me, the mood lost. I never feel alone anymore. I don't get a fucking break, even in my own quarters. Don't get frustrated. I can like this life. I will like this life. I do like this life. 

Fuck, this isn't what I wanted. But I couldn't stay where I was either. Not after everything. I'll make the best of this. I'm in a world with magic, of fantasy, and even if my career options are limited, that's worth it. I think. 

I roll out of bed and prepare for the day before heading down to the taproom. The breakfast crowd has already gathered, business not having died down in the past month. Despite my grievances, I do feel a sense of pride. I've given this place my all, and so far, it seems to be paying off. Not only are the patrons happy, but the staff is as well. If only being decent at something was synonymous with being happy with it. 

I give a smile to my barmaid, Sylvana as I pass by, and I see Floon drinking at a booth on his own. I raise an eyebrow. "No Ren or Volo today?" I ask, plopping across from him.

He gives me a wry grin. "Renaer is...about. Harper business, probably. Fuck if I know. Volo's in the City of the Dead pretending to do research for a book or something. Fuck if I know."

"You're so helpful," I mumble teasingly as I lean my head in my hands and watch the crowd.

"I do what I can," he says, raising his tankard. 

"A bit early to be this drunk, don't you think?" 

"A bit early to be nosing around other people's business, don't you think?" he shoots back with a grin. 

I open my mouth to retort when I suddenly freeze, my eyes on the door behind him where a man enters. A confident smile rests casually on his face under a well-groomed mustache, long brown hair flowing out from beneath a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a bright feather. That's what gives me pause. The main thing at least. The face, I wouldn't think twice about, his skimpy, eccentric clothing may make me suspicious. But his hat. That's how I know. 

"Annabel?"

Floon's voice snaps me out of my focus on the man, and I startle. "Sorry, what?"

His brow furrows. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"What were you thinking about?"

"Thinking? I wasn't thinking about anything?"

Floon pauses, scrutinizing me. "Oh okay," he finally says brightly.

Bless his heart.

I'm vaguely aware as my companion regales me with the tale of some particularly humorous...event at the festhall he used to work at, but all the while, my eyes continue flickering back to the man. I watch as he orders a drink. I watch as he sits at a table to join a game of Three Dragon Ante. And I'm watching as his eyes look up and meet mine, that arrogant, almost smug, grin still adorning his face, and it only widens as I find myself unable to look away for just a moment too long. When I finally do manage to tear my eyes away, I glance at the door once again to see Renaer entering. 

Goddammit. 

My cheeks redden as I remember this morning, now seeing his face in front of me instead of in my imagination, but I quickly shake it away, schooling my expression not only to hide my own embarrassment but any indication that the man in the hat is noteworthy. Much harder said than done, now that my staring has caught the man's attention, and I can feel his attention on me even when his eyes are not.

"Ren, Annie's acting weird," Floon whines the moment Renaer approaches. Son of a bitch. 

Renaer raises an eyebrow and looks down at me. I shrug. "No idea what he's talking about. He's drunk. Excuse me, I'll get us some drinks. And water for him."

I get to my feet and make my way over to the bar, catching Sylvana's attention to order the drinks. As I wait, I stiffen as someone approaches from behind and stands at the bar right beside me, leaving almost no personal space. I glance out of the corner of my eye and can barely make out the red vest of the man in the hat. Fantastic. Avoiding Renaer is working out great. 

The man orders a plate of cheese and bread, his voice warm and rich. A moment passes before I feel him turn to me. "Pardon me, my dear, but I couldn't help but notice I seemed to have caught your attention earlier," he muses. 

I stiffen, my back straightening before I slowly turn to face him. "I...I apologize, I just...I liked your hat," I say, my face expressionless. 

The corner of his lip curls up into a sly smirk. "You liked my hat?"

I nod. 

We stare at each other as if daring the other to break first before he bursts out laughing. "Well, thank you, my dear, I am quite fond of it."

My eye twitches despite me managing to force a polite smile. "I'll bet. It's quite the statement piece. Have a good day," I say as Sylvana slides me my drinks, and I move to take them.

The man's hand suddenly closes around one of the tankards. "Three drinks. Two hands. Please, allow me to help," he says with a warm smile. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

I open my mouth, about to answer, when a hand suddenly falls on my shoulder. "Got the drinks, Annabel?" Renaer's voice asks from behind me. "Let me give you a hand." Keeping his hand on my shoulder, he reaches around my other side and takes the handles of the two remaining tankards in one hand before clearing his throat. "Excuse me, sir, I can take it from here," he says with a pointed nod to the man's hand around the first tankard. 

The man releases it, his smile unwavering. "Of course, of course. The name's Zord, by the way. Zardoz Zord. It's a pleasure to meet the both of you."

"I'm Renaer," he says, his voice friendly, but his hand tightens on my shoulder just slightly. 

"Annabel," I add.

"A pleasure," Zardoz repeats, that smile still on his face, but his sharp eyes absorb everything they see, taking in Renaer's protective hand on me, my obvious discomfort in the situation. "You know, I run a carnival, the Sea Maiden's Faire, that's docked here in Waterdeep for a time. You should come down one day! It is the perfect place for a fun date, I assure you."

Both Renaer and I bristle at his words.

"Oh, we're not-"

"It's not like-"

"Oh! My apologies," Zardoz interrupts, as if realizing his mistake. "How silly of me, I just assumed...ah well, no matter. You should come anyway. It's enjoyable even for friends," he says, throwing us a wink. "Enjoy your evening."

Zardoz takes the plate of food set in front of him back to his table, and Renaer gives my shoulder another squeeze. "Come on, Annie," he mutters in my ear, releasing me to grab the third tankard and lead us back to our table. He doesn't discuss the eccentric captain, and when Floon tries to ask about who we were talking to, he answers in short, curt answers and swiftly changes the subject. Despite this, he seems relatively normal, smiling and laughing with us. As for me...I feel Zardoz's eyes flicker to me, even though I refuse to glance back at him. Especially with Ren now watching me very closely. The rest of the morning passes, the unspoken tension easing slightly when the captain takes his leave from the tavern, and his hefty winnings with him. It's not long after that that Ren heads back out as well, citing more work that needs to be done. Whatever the fuck it is he does with the Harpers.

I sigh as I'm left alone with Floon. "You know you really should take a break from the booze," I say softly. "Maybe get a job. Hell, if you can stay sober, I might be willing to hire you. At least give you a shot."

Floon opens his mouth with a grin, clearly about to come back with some quip before he pauses, his smile fading slightly. "Maybe. Just...let me enjoy what I've got going on for now."

I nod slowly with a frown before sighing and getting to my feet. "Well. I'm heading out. Go for a walk or something. Being here all the time is making me stir crazy."

We say our goodbyes and I head out into the city.

I don't know why my feet lead me here. I don't even realize where I am until the carnival stands before me, proudly standing on the pier between two large ships. The sea wind whips at my hair, and I pull a ribbon from my pouch to tie it back out of my face, my eyes not leaving the busy tents where laughter and music drifts back to me. I take a deep breath, about to step forward, when I suddenly turn back. 

I can't get involved. I promised myself I wouldn't get involved, not beyond purchasing the inn, and that was just so I had a home and could make a living. I don't even know what I expected coming here. It's not like I can fucking tell him anything. Did I just want to see him again? Honestly? Likely. The man is one of my favorite characters of all time, if not my favorite. Even in his disguise, even unable to acknowledge who he actually is, meeting him, I finally understand the people that freak out when they meet celebrities. 

Ugh. Now I definitely can't go to him. This guy does not need the ego boost. 

Fuck it.

I turn back around and head straight for the carnival without stopping. Everywhere I look, there's food, performers, crowds. But no 'Zardoz Zord' to be seen. With a sigh, I turn to leave, only to come face to face a gorgeous human woman wearing nothing but strategically placed jewels and glitter. "Hey there, you looking for something? Can I help you find a certain attraction?"

Eyes on her face, eyes on her face, eyes on her face.

"Oh, ah, no, I was just...looking. I...well, I met the captain, Zardoz Zord, earlier? And he said I should check this place out. So...here I am..." I rock back and forth on the balls of my feet, continuing my internal chant. 

The woman gets a mischievous look in her eye. "Ahhh, I see. Well, give me just one moment. What's your name, by the way?"

I blink. "I...Annabel?"

"Annabel, got it!"

Before I can protest, she scurries off. Well, shit. I consider leaving. I should leave. Right? I know where this is going. I think. Unless it's not. Which is possible. I have no reason to be on his radar the way the adventurers who rescued Floon and Renaer would be if they were in my shoes right now. Besides, he's probably not even here. Or he's too busy for some random chick he met at a tavern. Do I want to risk it, though? I chew my lip, about to flee, when the woman returns, my eyes instinctively glancing down before zooming back in on her smiling face. 

"Good news! Captain Zord would like to invite you to dine with him on his flagship," she say with a wink. 

My face twists in panic that I try to hide. "Oh, I-I don't want to be a bother, that's okay, thank you so much, though!" I stammer, taking a step back.

The woman laughs, the sound like bells, and puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You don't need to be nervous," she says in a loud whisper. "He wouldn't invite you if he wasn't interested too."

"No, but I'm not- wait, really? I mean, that's not the point! It's not that I'm...I mean, I'm not is what I'm trying to say."

She laughs again, taking my elbow and leading me out of the tent. "Aren't you adorable? By all means, when you're done, feel free to tell me all about it. No detail untouched," she murmurs with a wink as she guides me to a dinghy where a human man waits to ferry me. 

My flabbers are too gasted to respond.

Before I can process what's happened, I'm brought to a galleon anchored in the harbor, 'Eyecatcher' written in big bold letters on the side. I'm led onto the ship and down to a dining hall. Where I'm met with the sight of Zardoz Zord. "Welcome aboard the Eyecatcher!" he exclaims, gesturing around. 

I swallow, staring at him as the door is shut behind me, leaving us alone.

"Come, sit. Have a drink. I must admit, I did have a sneaking suspicion you would visit, although I would not have guessed it to be so soon," he says with that same shit-eating grin as always, pulling out a chair for me. 

I hesitantly go to sit. "I...I didn't think it would be, either," I admit. 

A nimblewright in the corner of the room comes forward and pours wine into both of our glasses before retreating back. "An attraction," he explains as he sits down. "And a quite useful one at that. Now. What brings you here, my dear?"

A beat passes. "I...I don't know. I just...I went for a walk, and I..."

He nods, watching me carefully. "What's your last name, Annabel?"

I raise an eyebrow at the sudden question. "Lee."

"Annabel Lee," he says slowly, the name rolling off his tongue in a way that would probably have some sort of effect on me if it was in fact my birth name rather than the one I chose to take on when moving here. "Very...poetic. It's beautiful. Like yourself. Where are you from? I'm afraid I can't place your accent, which I'll admit, is quite embarrassing for me with how much I travel with my crew here," he says, his smile still perfectly in place.

This was a terrible idea, this was an awful idea, I'm stupid, I'm stupid, I'm stupid, I'm stupid, I'm-

"I came to Waterdeep about three months ago."

He tilts his head, his grin taking on a sly look as his eyes narrow. "And before then?"

I stare at him a long moment, internally debating and knowing that if I lie he'll know, before I decide to play the tragic backstory card. I finally swallow, looking down at the table. "I don't want to talk about that," I say softly. 

Another moment of silence passes, my heart hammering in my chest. 

"I understand," he finally says, sitting at the head of the table. "The past can be a daunting thing to acknowledge to ourselves, let alone to others. Let us discuss something else then. What of your inn? How has business been?"

I smile, doing my best to hide the cringe with a drink of wine. "It's been doing well. Hasn't slowed since opening, so hopefully with hard work, I can keep that up..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh, dear. You are unhappy," he says in a soft voice. I freeze at his words. "It's quite alright, I understand. Although, I will say, a month does seem a tad fast to become burnt out in your occupation. It just may not be meant for you."

"What? No, I...I love it. It's going fantastic, business is great, I...it's..."

"It's okay to be unhappy, my dear."

Neither of us speaks for a long moment before I grab my glass and chug the entirety of its contents. "Got anything stronger?"

He gives me a wide grin before gesturing forth the nimblewright, who steps forward once again to this time pour me a different glass of amber liquid. 

"That terrible, is it?" he asks, as I sip at this new drink, a fine whiskey that burns down my throat but is somehow still smooth as silk. 

"It's awful," I groan. "I never feel like I have time alone because there's just always...people. Where I live. And it's just...it's just not for me," I say, taking another large gulp. "I was a teacher before this. This is...the only reason I did it was because it was a plan. You know? I could come here to Waterdeep, buy the inn, renovate just like my friends designed, use the name, it was all laid out for me! Rather than coming to a new city, nowhere to stay, no job prospects because schooling here is vastly different than where I'm from. And I couldn't stay where I was anymore. So I used the only plan I had. And now...now I don't fuckin' know. This is my life now." Another beat as I down the rest of my drink, already feeling light and warm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"Don't apologize, darling," he says softly, scooting his chair closer. "You've been holding that in. It had to come out. I understand." He slowly reaches out and takes my hand in both of his, making my breath catch in my throat.

"Jarlaxle, I don't think-"

We both freeze. 

Slowly, he withdraws his hands, his back straightening, and I all but cower in my own seat as he stares at me, nodding slowly. "Bravo," he says in a wry voice before his appearance begins to shimmer in front of me.

Rather than the Iluskan human male, soon I'm sitting beside a Drow, a similar but slightly different hat on top of his now bald head. An eyepatch adorns his left eye, and he's decorated with jewelry from his fingers to his ears to his wrists. He wears a tight-fitting purple vest cut above his midriff and matching leather pants that mold around his muscled legs. 

"So. How did you know?"

Chapter Text

I stare at the Drow, half in fear, half in...something between awe and horny. 

"How. Did. You. Know?" he repeats, his voice calm. Still fucking smiling. I say nothing, my mind racing desperately for any sort of explanation, anything other than the truth. But that goddamn ring of truth telling he has... "Your friend. Renaer Neverember. Did he tell you? Does he know?"

I quickly shake my head. "No, he doesn't know, I swear. Not to my knowledge at least."

"Then how do you?"

No answer comes. I could always just leave. Teleport away. But he'd follow. My inn wouldn't be safe. Probably nowhere would be. I'm not arrogant enough to believe I could hide from him or his men for long. That leaves home. But no. I won't go back. 

My back straightens and I take a deep breath. "That's a complicated question."

"We have time," he assures me. 

My teeth bite down hard on the inside of my cheek as I search his handsome face, trying and failing to find the words to explain.

He nods slowly as he studies me, undoubtedly realizing that anxiety is the source of my hesitation rather than any sort of ill intent. "How about this- if you knew who I was, why come here?" he asks, his voice softening as he leans forward in his chair, arms resting on his knees in a casual stance, his face like he's trying to calm a frightened animal. Which I may as well be. 

The question hits harder than I would have thought. "I don't know," I whisper. 

The Drow tilts his head, and I can only imagine what's going through it. No doubt he's putting all the pieces together. The moment his smile widens, I can see he's come to the conclusion I'm no threat at the very least. Or certainly that must be it. If I came to him willingly and started venting to him about my personal life after consuming liquor, surely he must realize that that would be remarkably stupid for anyone who did wish to antagonize him to do.

But it was also probably remarkably stupid of me anyways. 

"You like me," he finally says.

I blink.

"I...what? No, I...I mean, well, as...like as a person? I don't...what do...what?" I find myself reaching for my refilled glass to quell the nerves in the pit of my stomach before I stop myself. I'm already tipsy. Not the best time to get drunk. 

Jarlaxle chuckles. "By all means, darling, drink more. I will not harm you."

"I know you won't," I say without thinking. 

"Do you?" he asks, amused as he leans back once again, crossing an ankle over his other leg. 

"Well sure. You only-" I cut myself off with a grimace. "See, this is why I don't need to drink more," I mutter, pouting. 

He laughs loudly this time. "You're quite adorable when you're trying to pretend you're not already drunk."

"I'm not drunk! Shit, I'm drunk... I'm just such a lightweight, I'm sorry, see, the whiskey was probably too much," I ramble.

"No need to apologize. Now, what were you saying? I believe you were telling me how you know I will not harm you," he says with a smirk.

My mouth opens before I pause with a mocking smile. "See, I was, but I know what you're doing," I tease, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You're trying to take advantage of my alcohol-induced honesty. It's not going to work." I cross my arms stubbornly. 

Laughing again, he holds his hands up in surrender. "You caught me. I apologize, my dear, but surely you can understand my need to know how you came upon the information of my identity."

I sigh heavily. "Is it enough for me to say that I found out through no way that could pose any danger to you nor do I plan on using the information?"

"I'm afraid not, darling."

I purse my lips. "Fuck." I suddenly hop to my feet, swaying slightly before I regain my balance and begin to pace around the room. My hand rips the ribbon from my hair and I rake my fingers through it, massaging my scalp. "This sucks. This really fuckin' sucks. I don't know why the fuck I did this. I just thought, 'hey, that's Jarlaxle Baenre. Dope,' and wanted to see you again because I just think you're, like, really neat and stuff. But, see, I should have known better, really, because I already suck at keeping my mouth shut and then you gave me alcohol, so really, this is your fault."

A moment of silence passes as I halt and glare down at his bemused expression. Slowly, he gets to his feet and steps right up to me, smirking at me with a twinkle in his uncovered eye. "You knew who I was, when I was disguised, and came to see me because you think I'm 'neat?'" he asks, his voice low.

My heart skips a beat, pounding almost violently in my chest before I take a step back. "Uh-uh, see, no, you're doing the thing! You're trying to flirt with me to get information or to throw me off and confuse me."

He claps his hands together in delight. "You are a treat, aren't you? But this only makes me all the more curious. You seem to know me so well, almost...intimately...and yet, I know we never could have met before. Surely I'd remember you," he adds in a purr, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his long finger trailing down my ear to my jaw. "How did you come to be so familiar with me?" He takes another step in, closing the gap between us again. 

I suck in my breath, the air shaking. Or maybe I'm the one shaking. "Jarlaxle, I know you can obviously tell I'm attracted to you, so I won't be stupid enough to try to act like I'm not. But I'm also not stupid enough to act on it when I know that sex is a tool to you when you want something, and you very much want something from me." I keep my voice steady as I can. Even though I lowkey resent the words I'm saying, and it takes all the effort I have to force them out when I'm already drunk.

"Maybe I do want something from you," he says with a low chuckle, his hand gently sliding around my jaw to cup the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. "Must that also mean I cannot simply want you as well? I did invite you here before learning of your knowledge of me, after all."

"I...motivations can change. You can find me attractive as well but now be much more concerned with what else you can get from me. My point still stands. I'm not going to let myself fall for it when I know what you're doing."

His grin widens, and the movement draws my eyes down to his lips before I quickly blink and look back up into his scarlet eye. "Well then I'm afraid we are at an impasse. I cannot allow you to carry on knowing what you do, let alone anything else you may know, without knowing where your sensitive information comes from and if it is a threat to my security. And you will not tell me and seem to already be too familiar with...my tactics for them to work. Which I do applaud you for. However, I'm sure you can see the stalemate we've found ourselves in."

"I can."

A long moment of silence passes, each of us studying the other, our faces only inches apart. "Annabel, I need you to tell me," he suddenly says, his voice soft, and I feel my chest ache. 

"Jarlaxle, I...it's something that would put *me* in danger if it got out," I whisper. 

Finally, his smile falters. Just slightly, and just for a moment, before he schools it into something...gentler? "My dear, all the more reason for you to tell me. If there is something that threatens you, allow me to be your ally. I can protect you. You'll have the whole force of Bregan D'aerthe at your back. If...you tell me what I need to know. This can be mutually beneficial." 

I stare at him for a long while. "I'm from a different world."

He blinks before slowly taking a step back, his hand falling from my hair. "You're from a different world," he echoes flatly. I say nothing. "I must admit, my dear, that it...not what I was expecting," he says with a chuckle, his smirk returning. "How exactly does you being from a different world make you know of me though?"

I take a deep breath...and explain it all. Dungeons and Dragons. The Legend of Drizzt books. How I found a spell tucked away in a book in my world that could cast essentially Teleport, but to anywhere, including other worlds. 

He watches me as I speak, clearly searching for any hint of deception, but there's none to be found. When I finish, he takes a moment before speaking. Something I never would have expected from the gabby mercenary. "How much do you know of me exactly, then? From your...books and your game?"

"I'd argue I know you better than almost anyone in this world."

His grin widens. "Quite the bold statement."

"You were the third-born son in House Baenre, meant to be sacrificed to Lolth as is tradition. House Oblodra used their psionic powers to shield you from the sacrificial blade, saving you, and through some psionic bullshittery, your brother was killed instead. This was covered up by your House to avoid any speculation they had lost Lolth's favor. The only people who knew were those of House Oblodra involved and those in your own House present at the time. Lolth herself favored you, and gifted you the memory of this event, but you rejected her. Only a couple other people know of what happened."

"Very well, point proven," he says, the excitement now building in his eye. "Come, sit back down," he says, returning to his own seat. I hesitantly do so. "First. This teleportation spell. You can go anywhere?" I nod. "Including places you've never been?" I nod. "Any chance of mishaps or being off-target?" I shake my head, and he slaps his hand down on the table with a laugh. "Brilliant! This spellbook, do you still have it?" A beat passes before I shake my head. "What happened to it?"

"After I learned the spell, the book burst into flames," I say softly. 

"Ah, fascinating. Very well. Would you be able to teach it?"

My face scrunches up in a sort of grimace, and with a sigh, I finally reach to take another drink, too exhausted to not be shitfaced. "I don't remember it," I answer him truthfully. "After the first time, I...I didn't need to repeat it anymore. I could just...do it."

He nods slowly. "Well. Could you take people with you?"

I raise an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side in thought. "I'm not sure. I haven't tried it. I'm inclined to say, though, that even if I could, it would take practice. It took some time for me to be able to come to other worlds. The spell is...draining. Especially the further you go. And I have a feeling it's going to be similar with bringing other people along."

"A fair answer. We'll have to put it to the test then. Now, tell me about other things you know. Anything useful to me?"

I pause, just for a moment, but it's a moment too long. "No," I say, and his eye narrows slightly, though his smirk remains. 

"Ahh, come now, darling. We are past the point of lies."

"I don't want to get involved, Jarlaxle."

His brow arches, his smile sly. "Involved in what?"

"You know exactly what. The Stone of Golorr. Neverember's vault. I'm not getting involved. I refuse."

He suddenly bursts out laughing, the sound almost melodic. "You really do know everything, don't you? How delightful. Very well, you shall not be involved. For now. But I do ask that you consider aiding us. And, while you consider that, consider this other proposition- work for me."

I blink. "Work...what?" Surely I misheard him. It must be the alcohol, although I feel surprisingly sober. 

"Work for me," he repeats. Okay. I didn't mishear him. 

"I...what? I don't...why?"

"Well, there's a myriad of reasons, really," he says, stretching his arms above his head, and I very firmly keep my eyes on his face and definitely not his abdomen. "I'd like you in my bed, for one." I choke on my whiskey, but he ignores it and continues. "For another thing, I get the feeling with some training, you'd be quite useful for...diplomatic reasons. You're a beautiful human, the owner of a popular new inn. You can have sway if put to use correctly. But, if you'd like honesty, which I feel like you would, it's the teleportation. That is something that I find myself...quite desperate for," he says, his voice low as he leans in closer and closer to me with each word. "To go anywhere, including places you've never been, never seen, with no chance of going off course...that would be invaluable."

I gawk at him, my mind racing. "I...Jarlaxle, I'm just an innkeeper. A teacher before this. Sure, I can go places, but once I get there, I'm useless. I can't fight. Don't know any other magic. I-"

He waves his hand dismissively at me as he takes a drink. "That will be no problem. We will train you. Besides, you said yourself you loathe your current occupation. This is a boon for you as well, my dear. I help you get out of this job you hate. You provide your skills."

I shift in my seat in discomfort. "What makes you think I'd like working for you anymore than I like working my inn?" I ask, almost defensively. 

A beat passes as he appraises me. "Tell me why you chose to leave your world and come here."

My teeth grind together as my jaw reflexively clenches. "I don't want to get into it."

"Not the situation that led you to flee itself," he says with a chuckle. "But why here? Why not just stay in your own world? Move somewhere new there? Hells, why not travel around your world if you were so desperate for a change in scenery?" I blink, saying nothing as I consider the question. "You are like me, my dear," he says, his voice softening. "You want adventure. You want freedom. You want new things. And your own world wasn't good enough." A beat. "I can give you the adventure you crave." 

I lay in my bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, mulling over the encounter in my head. He's not wrong. I know that. I want adventure. It's what I've always wanted. And the freedom to seek it out. I suppose, in a way, I do have that freedom now. I could take him up on his offer. I'd have to learn to fight. Or learn magic. Something to be, well...useful. But I could do it. 

Hell. At the end of the day, all this consideration and deliberation is a farce. Obviously I'm gonna do it.