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It was a new moon tonight, the perfect time for her. More shadows than usual, easier to blend into them. The perfect time to do a bit of a harder task. And tonight was just that night. She was perched on a roof, balancing herself on the right place to reach another lower roof across the street. Her breath puffed out before her, the cold air cloaking her in frost.
“Inveniam viam.”
Perfect. She was close to her mark now, only needing a place to find an entrance. One of the windows was left open, a small little creak. It was all she needed. She lowered herself to the window ledge, perching on it as she grabbed her thieves’ tools. A technique that she had used thousands of times, it felt so natural that she didn’t need to think. A small sound revealed that it was open as she climbed into the window. A lavishly decorated bedroom, on the edge to being tacky. Proud in standing apart from the other houses in the Upper City, just like the man himself. With careful steps she stepped out of the bedroom and she peered down the hallway. Nobody else in sight, everything was like it should be. Quiet as a mouse, she went to the door at the end. The whole reason why she was in this place. There was a way how you could use the door knob so the noise was almost silent, the sound was already muffled by the fireplace that was crackling that she felt as soon as the door was open.
He was expecting her, sitting on the opposite side of his desk. A grin appeared on her face, had he been waiting for a long time? Was he almost giving up? Was he so desperate for her? The last steps she took were almost undetectable, he would never know.
He was writing letters again, as usual. Scheming and plotting and strategizing and optimizing and blackmailing and inventing. She preferred a quicker solution, a death by dagger or her magic. Her divine power by her Father. The essence of her being, her purpose made in flesh. But this night, she could follow something else. She let her hands rest on his shoulders for second before she let them glide down his chest. As her face lowered until she could whisper in his ear.
"Were you expecting someone?" A low chuckle, the slight tension in his body relaxing underneath her. The warmth in his body slowly warming up her arms.
"You're freezing, Achlys."
"It's cold outside, lordling. Heavy cloaks don't mix well with sneaking." She rubbed her cold cheeks against him, causing him to shiver. He turned around, a lazy smile plastered on his face.
"Get comfortable in front of the fireplace or is your Father going to punish you for enjoying a comfort in life?" He couldn't help himself, always seeing if he could push her buttons as well. Not smart when there were so many sharp objects on his desk. A letter opener that could be shoved in his ear, a quill that could be pushed in eyes or she could use some of her divine magic bestowed on her by her Father. For a Chosen of Bane, he didn't keep the desire to keep living very close.
He was lucky that he was handsome and warm.
Trailing her hands over his back as she walked away, she slinked towards the fireplace. The heat flowing over her like a warm blanket, the peaceful crackling of the wood acting like a soothing salve. The armchairs were ignored as she sat down right in front of it on the floor. It had been almost a little routine after their first meeting; she would sneak through one of his windows, he would present her a list of people he wanted gone and she would sneak out and finish his kill list. It worked well for both of them, she got the death required for her Father and he got clean kills that couldn't get traced back to him. A perfect partnership.
But this night was not like that, there was no list for her. There had been no note to meet him for it. She had just been in the murder tribunal, listening to Saverok waxing poetically over the older times when the bloodshed and the grotesqueness of it was more important. There was a new wind blowing through the Church of Bhaal, the wind that her Father had commanded her. Just death, a lot of deaths. Her methods were more efficient for it. Spells, less dagger-happy adventures and more precision. Cleaner and quicker. Still something to be feared, more options how you could be destroyed. She was made of divine flesh, it was normal that her techniques reflected it.
"Drowning in thoughts, assassin?" Gortash his voice tore through her thoughts like a knife through flesh. A wine glass offered to her, filled with red wine that almost looked like blood.
"Just trying to get warm," she replied. With a sigh he sat next to her on the floor, she could almost feel his arm against hers.
"I have these really comfortable armchairs, Bhaal's favorite."
"Too far from the fireplace, I want to be warm." She looked over to him, his eyes darting around her face as if she was some mystery to solve. An enigma that he was trying to make sense of.
"So why did you come over? I don't have a list." The question raked her brain too, made her stomach twist and turn. There were other things she had set out to do, return to the temple and give a sermon. But it had been her feet who had just carried her here, without any resistance. Like it was what she wanted to do more than go to the temple. That was not good. She took a sip of wine, decadent, rich and with a little kick. Like the man who was sitting next to her, one of his arm touching hers now.
"Can a divine being not check in on her favourite tyrant?" she asked innocently. He laughed and she laughed back. Laughter mixing in the calm of the office. The flames were so nice and warm, almost making her feel sleepy.
"She can but the tyrant is too smart to know that this is not just something. Nothing is just something with the High Priestess of Bhaal." Maybe that was is, maybe she just didn't want to be the High Priestess today. Maybe she just wanted to be Achlys for just a fleeting moment.
"Maybe it's different for Achlys?" The flames danced all over his face, over the scars and his features. Maybe she just wanted to be herself and she could do that with him for just a moment.
They sat like that for a while, the warm feeling soaking through their bones. Just a human and a half-elf, not just two Chosen. People would begin to notice her absence, her flock looking for their leader again. But if she could only stay like this, just for a little bit.
"You're going to leave again right?" he asked.
"Yes, I'll have to," she answered. It was always just like that, being a Chosen sometimes a blessing or sometimes a curse. A thin but real veil that hung between them, spun by two deities. But she still put her head on his shoulder, just basking in the warmth for a bit longer.
"Can I stay just a bit longer?"
"Take as long as you want."