#xdrabblesxUnderMurkySkiesx

[xdepthsofwinterx]

Under Murky Skies Pt.2:

A follow on from this drabble. Bonding time between our lovely mage and Kymiel. WATERDEEP, HORDES OF THE UNDERDARK, CHAPTER 1-2: CANON!VERSE

“Tyr’s flaming arse, watch it will you!”

Kymiel paused, alcohol-soaked cloth in hand, eyeing her with an air of expectancy. The mage scowled at him as the moment grew awkward.

“What?!”

“I warned you this would be painful. Cursing won’t make this any easier,” he caught hold of her chin with gentle fingers, holding it firmly in place, “Nor will wriggling.”

“But its bloody painfu-eurgh!” White hot pain laced the side of her head, but under the elf’s calm gaze she could do little but hiss.

He held the cloth there until the agony subsided into an intense throb. Without waiting for permission, Kymiel clasped her hand and placed it over the material.

“Keep on that pressure, I am going to fetch a few healing potions.”

And with that the brunette rose to his feet, padding across floorboards to hunt through a leather rucksack. Dhana took the opportunity to let out a quiet string of curses, uncaring if sensitive elven ears picked them up or not. Lifting a knee, she lent her elbow upon it, glancing about the dimly lit hovel she had been ushered into.

A decrepit looking room with shredded wallpaper, missing floorboards and a gigantic hole in the wall through which they had entered. The area in which she sat was thankfully dry, and fairly sheltered, but Kymiel had given her a linen blanket just in case.

“I think you will need this more than me.” Dhana sorely missed her pack, her quilt especially. Dark eyes lowered to her filthy leggings. She would have to go back and get it, along with her staff. Cold dread settled into her gut at the thought.

‘That means facing Durnan and all those foolish enough to follow him.’

Kymiel’s return pulled her from anxiety inducing thoughts, the sound of corks being pulled filling her ears. Fluorescent liquid sloshed around in the flask and she knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

“Drink this, please.” She gave him a short word of thanks before lifting the substance to her lips. Briny scents invaded her nostrils, Dhana wishing nothing more than to peg her damn sinuses. Gulping the mage knocked back the concoction, fighting back the inevitable gag that threatened. She pushed the empty glass into the elf’s awaiting hand, before another was offered.

“Seriously?” it was the first time he had shown any sign of exasperation.

“Yes. Now, drink.”

The process was as vulgar as the first time, with a bitter after taste. A very flowery profanity slipped loose as she shoved the empty vial away.

“You need to find a better supplier, that stuff tasted awful!” Kymiel sighed before depositing the vials safely back into his pack. He made no comment, regardless of how whingey the human sounded. Returning, he lowered himself to sit cross-legged before her.

“How does it feel now?” Ochre eyes looked pointedly at the cloth. Taking this as a cue, Dhana gingerly released her grip, carefully peeling the material off. Squelchy with clotted blood, the mage dumped it at her feet in disgust. Her companion tilted his head in inspection.

“Well, your ear is still attached.”

She deadpanned.

“Annnd?!”

Kymiel’s ears twitched, almost cat like in their movement.

“You will have a very impressive scar,” Dhana blinked at him, instinctively raising a hand. When he made no move to stop her, the mage finally felt out the damage. Indeed, a jagged triangular piece of cartilage was missing. No amount of healing nor potions was going to bring that back.

“And I now look like a ragged alley cat,” she allowed herself the moment of vanity, toying with her mane to cover the raw skin. Unbeknown to her, the elf bit his lip in amusement.

“Was that not the look you were going for anyhow?”

Dhana’s neck creaked with the speed with which she turned. Now Kymiel couldn’t hide his hilarity, quietly snickering behind his hand. She huffed.

“Alright, wise-ass, that was good,” something dawned on her, ushering away her sulkiness, “And thanks, by the way, you saved my hide back there.”

Leaning back on his hands the brunette stared up at the ceiling, idly following the beams with his eyes.

“As I would have done for anyone in a tight space. Your assailants were not interested in taking prisoners,” a thoughtful look crossed his tanned features, “Which makes me curious, why were those Drow so keen to kill you?”

This was not a line of questioning she was willing to entertain right now.

Kymiel took this to mean something else.

“Unless...their hunt was justified?” Something dark flickered across his expression, something she had not expected out of this seemingly law-abiding individual.

She snorted.

“If burning one of their assassin’s alive warrants a witch hunt, then yes, I am guilty of all charges.”

“That does not ans-…” She gave him a very pointed stare.

“It’s the only answer you are getting.”

A moment of silence and the elf conceded, returning his gaze to the ceiling. They remained that way for some time, listening to the wind howl through Waterdeep’s streets. Alas, it seemed the elf was unable to help himself.

“Where are your possessions?” A sigh escaped her, but he pushed on, “It is unlikely you travel so light. Did they take them from you?”

Folding her arms across her chest, Dhana shook her head, flinching at the ache that followed.

“No. I…forgot to take them.”

Both parties stared at each other. A stalemate of wits. She wasn’t shifting on this, nor, it seemed was he.

“Well, you can’t exactly leave my care without them, can you?”

“You’re an awfully presumptuous git, aren’t you?” The elf had the audacity to shrug and smile amicably at her.

“Where did you have them last?”

He had her there, and no amount of scowling was going to change that. Sure, she could zap the shit out of him, but then where would she be?

With a heavy sigh, the mage relented.

“Yawning portal, I was staying there when the assassin appeared.” She neglected to mention the Undermountain, hordes of Drow and the fact she was an enormous fucking coward. But at least he got the message. All of Waterdeep knew what was taking place beneath the Durnan’s inn, and Kymiel was no exception. He put two and two together and got five. Dhana let him roll with it.

“Then come morning that will be our next stop.”

She was seriously starting to hate this guy.

[xdepthsofwinterx]

UNDER MURKY SKIES PT.3:

Part 1: , Part 2: WATERDEEP, HORDES OF THE UNDERDARK, CHAPTER 1-2: CANON!VERSE

Morning came far too quickly for her liking. She knew it was inevitable. The mage needed her belongings, and perhaps the elf would come in handy. Tugging her hood up, Dhana stepped up next to Kymiel, the pair sharing a glance.

“Ready?” her lips narrowed into a thin line, but she nodded.

They travelled in relative silence for twenty minutes, slipping between alleyways and side streets. Many were blocked with guarded barricades, bodies littering the gutters. She noticed there were higher numbers of fallen guards than drow. That was alarming. Thankfully the appearance of sunlight seemed to keep the latter in whatever holes they hid in. 

“This way,” wood creaked in protest as the elf pulled back a sturdy pallet. Frowning, Dhana darted off the road and onto the uncovered walkway. It could only fit one abreast, and that was sideways. With her shoulder breadth, the mage had to suck in her stomach and chest as best she could. Kymiel moved with grace of course, obviously used to such shortcuts. Several minutes of shuffling later found them emerging from a hedge, covered in leaves onto a familiar street. 

No-one stood outside the Yawning Portal, but she could just about make out the guard nestled inside the doorway. Kymiel was already halfway across the street by the time she realised. Cursing, she strode to quickly catch up. 

Sighting them, the guard got to his feet. Crumbs fell to onto the floorboards, only to be trampled. Seems it was lunchtime. 

“Good morning, is Durnan on the go?” the elf was straight in there, watching the guard expectantly. His gingery moustache twitched, watery blue eyes regarding Kymiel with slow recognition. Then out popped a far sunnier disposition. 

“Ah! Yer that mousy chap, the bounty ‘unter!” A brow rose, Dhana eying her companion with renewed interest. He gave nothing away, merely smiling patiently. 

“Ranger, actually. I am looking for Durnan, may my friend and I come in so I may speak to him?” 

Eyes landed on her and Dhana held her ground. The guard was a nice enough fellow if a little bit slow. Rather him than his nosier back-to-back. She smiled lopsidedly at him, though it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Ya folks seem sound enough, nae drow o’ spiders wee ya…grmm, alright, aye in ya come.” 

They were hit by a wall of humid, sweaty air. It seemed the refugee population had sky rocketed. Every surface, every patch of wall space, was either lent against or harbouring a weary looking soul. Candles burned low, numerous bar maids and clerics floating here and there. One in particular caught her eye, a brunette with a cute button nose and cherry red lips. It seemed she was in luck, an idea formulating. 

Calloused fingers caught Kymiel’s gauntlet. Ochre eyes whirled on her as Dhana steered them to an alcove beside the entrance. 

“I don’t know what dealings you have with the Duke, but if you could keep him distracted whilst I chat with one of his staff, I would be eternally grateful.” 

The intensity in which the elf regarded her made Dhana squirm. He may use that expression to get information out of others, but Dhana was a stubborn mule. Stony faced, she replied.

“I will tell you, at length, what got me to this point. In the Lady’s name, I swear,” Sepia eyes shot from his to the maid across the room, Kymiel following her gaze, “But right now that little madam is my chance of getting in and out of here without causing a scene.” 

A moment of deliberation later saw the ranger nod, but only after catching her elbow as she made to leave. 

“I will hold you to your word,” Dhana rolled her eyes and smirked half-heartedly at him. 

“Of that I have no doubt.” 

She wasted no time weaving between the masses, shifting behind tables when the bar came into view. From her periphery she could see Kymiel approach the burly owner, greeted with a warmth she didn’t know Durnan was capable of. Something to interrogate the ranger about later. Eyes swivelled back to her target, the mage sidling up with a cocksure grin. 

“Excuse me?” the pretty brunette paused and turned, ponytail bouncing about somewhat flushed cheeks. She blinked, holding her tray to her chest. 

“Yes, how can I help?” 

“I was wondering, do you do room service?” Eyebrows rose in confusion. But as the mage shifted into the light, wicked grin unveiled, the woman turned beetroot, “Because I would like to browse your wears somewhere private~” 

“I-I…y-you came back, I-…” A tattooed hand clasped her chin, tilting it upward with ease. 

“I keep my promises.” 

Moments later the tray was long abandoned, the mage being dragged up the stairs. Upon reaching the landing, Dhana dug in her heels. Her companion made to protest, but she swiftly silenced her with a heated kiss. Moments passed, the odd creak of wood settling, when the mage finally let the woman go. 

“Not your room, luv,” she gestured to the one she had slept in two nights prior, “That one.” 

“But it was cleaned out, ready for the next guest,” an uneasy curl in her gut, but the woman continued, “Your things were shifted.” 

Dhana frowned, “Where?” 

A playful shake of her head saw the woman produce a key, one Dhana instantly recognised. The armoury storage. She made for it. The brunette pulled it away, only to drop it into her cleavage. Cheeks tinted that lovely cherry red, she stared coyly up at the sorceress.

 “Looks like you’ll have to dig for them~” 

Wolfish was the only way to describe Dhana’s expression. 

“Oh, that can be arranged.”

-

 Kymiel nursed his third non-alcoholic drink of the morning, ears drooping. He believed himself a patient man, kind enough to give someone the benefit of the doubt. But after two hours, even he was beginning to lose faith. Durnan had left with the parchments the elf had delivered, handing over to his younger manager. A simple enough diversion, Kymiel thought. 

‘Now she is just taking the mick.’

Downing the last droplets of his glass, the elf pushed back his stool. No, he’d had enough. If the human was going to be this inconsiderate, he was wasting his time. Shouldering his bow, the elf made for the door when-…

 “Pssst!”

 Kymiel’s eyebrow ticked. Keep walking, Kym, just keep walkin- 

She had a hold of his cloak before he reached the hallway. Choking a little, the archer found himself bundled in behind an oversized planter. Dhana was once again bundled beneath her hood, but this time, she looked very much like an adventurer. 

“Do you know how long you have kept me waiting?” She blanched. 

“Why does that matter? I got my stuff!” he was honestly contemplating converting to Bane’s priesthood. Exhaling through his nostrils, Kymiel made to chastise her further, when the mage thrust something into his arms. 

“Plus, I got you this. Think of it as a thank you gift.” 

Tawny irises widened at the quiver thrust into his possession. Sure, they would need new fletching but…the uncanny gleam the arrows gave off. Enchanted. He paused, glancing up at her. 

“Where did these come from?” she gave him a nonchalant shrug, the gleam in her eyes a tad too bright. Nostrils flaring, the elf took a step back. It didn’t take a scholar to put that scent and expression together and find his answer. He shook his head. 

“You copulated with her to get back your things, didn’t you?” The shit-eating grin he got in response was all the answer he needed. Kymiel lifted his fingertips to his temple, “Earthmother, give me strength…” 

“I didn’t even need to use a sleep spell.” 

Grimacing, the elf looked at the quiver utterly disturbed…they hadn’t…near…Gods… 

“Anyway, I promised you a story, so let’s ditch this place and I’ll talk those point ears of yours off.” 

“I’m suddenly overcome with an overwhelming need to vomit,” but it seemed the mage was having none of it. Hands on his back, Dhana pushed Kymiel towards the door. Their guard friend bid them a lethargic wave, suspiciously rosy in the cheeks himself. 

Everyone is losing their common sense, I swear.