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Date Posted: 01:28:05 04/15/02 Mon
Author: Tristan and Rowan
Subject: And a few other things
In reply to: Marz, Tia, Jeremy 's message, "Finding a tavern" on 15:42:29 04/14/02 Sun

Tristan should have been expecting Marz’s reaction to his wistful statement, but he wasn’t. His gutsy lover’s aggressiveness always managed to startle him, making his mind reel as it struggled to catch up with his rapidly arousing senses. His initial surprise and split-second fear faded quickly, as usual, into a burning sort of excitement, his eyes sliding closed as Marz pressed their mouths and bodies close together. His breath caught in the middle of the kiss when he felt a warm hand sliding up under his shirt and caressing his skin, but before he could start to grow dizzy with sensation, Marz pulled away again.

Their gazes were locked together for a few very intense seconds, making it harder than ever for Tristan to quell the sudden overwhelming desire Marz had ignited within him as the others drew closer. He finally dropped his gaze first, refusing to release the hand in his until the very last moment. Marz moved farther away and began leading the others toward the nearest building, allowing Tristan to lean against the cool stone wall and bring his breathing and heart rate back down to normal. It was really kind of crazy, the way they were acting lately, stealing kisses when no one was looking or even hurrying off to make love behind rocks and hastily locked doors. He found himself loving almost every minute of his life in a way he’d never really done before.

But his feelings could be a problem, too. He steadily collected himself as he followed the others, purposefully heightening his senses and forcing himself to remain ever alert. It was impossible not to think of Marz every now and then, though, and he caught himself staring at him in the dim light of the oil lamp as he searched the area around the bar more than once. He hissed under his breath, annoyed by his ridiculous emotional vulnerability of late. Reveling in the love he shared with Marz would have been perfectly suitable in a more peaceful setting, but right now it only served to distract him. He couldn’t fight all that well if the hand holding his sword kept trembling at the mere thought of those fingers brushing against his skin again.

Eventually, his years of intense discipline won out, and he regained complete control of his mind and senses. Living under Odarin’s strict, though well-meaning, tutelage allowed him to focus on the task at hand at will, and he did his best to devote himself to searching the tavern. After a while, he wandered toward the staircase, keeping one hand on his sword hilt as he slowly began to advance upward. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, though, as he narrowed his eyes into the darkness. He paused to sniff experimentally at the air, his nose pointed delicately upward like a wolf tasting the wind—and then he tensed. Something—someone—was in the building with them.

He glanced down quickly at his feet, a low growl working its way up his throat as he noticed the footprints beside his own in the dust for the first time. Silently, he backed down the stairs, drawing his sword and keeping his eyes focused above.

“We aren’t alone in here,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking toward the others momentarily.

Rowan immediately drew both his weapons when he heard the dragon’s warning, his eyes following his gaze toward the stairway. A sudden thought came to him, and he glanced quickly around the room, a worried expression coming to his face as he realized something.

“Where’s Jeremy?” he asked, “Wasn’t he following us?”

Tia shrugged, and the others looked equally uncertain. Rowan swore under his breath and hurried toward the door, grabbing Tia’s arm on the way. The two of them rushed back outside and scanned the street for a few moments, before they finally caught sight of the bright, orange colored Cheeto bag lying on the ground, some distance away.

“Shit,” Rowan swore, moving toward it, his grip tightening around his swords. Tia kept pace with him, her hands withdrawing her daggers as well, but before they got to the spot where the bag lay, they were stopped in their tracks by a series of muffled cries of pain and fear.

“This way!” Rowan took off in the direction the voice was coming from, Tia running close beside him. They slowed their pace as they come to another building, both of them flattening themselves against the wall as they listened inside.

“Tell us now where Alakbar is or I am going to start cutting you into tiny pieces.”

Rowan glanced at Tia and nodded. Silently, they slipped around the house until they came to a window, the glass long sense shattered and scattered away. They peeked through the opening to make sure all was clear before climbing through, Rowan first, Tia second. He turned to her in the dark, hoping she could see, and put a finger to his lips. He could make out the quizzical expression she shot him, so he just shook his head before closing his eyes and taking a deep, steadying breath, calling on the magic within him.

Immediately, the runes tattooed into his skin flared silver and then he was seemingly gone, his presence only a mere flicker of a shadow against the wall. He saw Tia’s eyes widen, and he moved to touch her cheek in an attempt to reassure her. Turning swiftly, he moved out of the room and hurried down the hallway, conscious of the fact that she would probably eventually follow.

He got to the room Jeremy was in, breathing a silent sigh of relief when he counted only two men. Like a ghost, he moved toward the one holding a knife to Jeremy, and spent a fraction of a second deciding on how to kill his target without hurting the boy. In one swift move, he sliced off the hand holding the knife to Jeremy’s throat and sliced his other sword into the side of the man’s neck, the blade biting through until it cut clean through the artery there.

The assassin collapsed on the floor, blood pouring from his wound as the life quickly vanished out of him. “It’s all right, Jeremy,” he whispered, but then, instead of attacking the other captor, he reached out automatically to catch the boy, who was about to pass out from the injuries he’d sustained. Rowan heard the man hovering in the corner mutter the words to a spell of some sort, and then his runes flared up again, making him visible once more.

Rowan cursed violently, still holding Jeremy with one hand as he dropped one sword and fumbled for a knife. He pulled one from his boot and tossed it at the now rushing assassin, hitting him in the stomach instead of the chest. The man staggered but continued forward, his black eyes glinting in the moonlight streaming through the window in the room as he advanced on the boy and the elf who’d foolishly tried to rescue him.

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