#revlain

Aria spun around and threw a vase at the assassin’s head.  The fact that the woman managed to avoid getting hit by it only infuriated Aria more.  Narrowing her eyes, she reached for another item to throw, one a bit sharper and with more metal to it.

“For felsake Aria, calm down.”  The exasperation evident in Kyri’s voice.  “You are, as usual, overreacting to the situation and completely taking what I said out of context.  I swear, sometimes you act more like that frightened child I came across all those years back instead of the woman you are supposed to be today.”

Aria’s aim was improving as the dagger flew past Kyri’s head, edging her cheek and slicing some hair as it embedded into the wall behind her.  “Stay out of my life!  I don’t need you anymore.  You weren’t around when I did need you, when I could have used that friend you claim that you are!  Now all you are doing is interfering.”

Quick as a flash, Kyri retrieved the dagger and sent it sailing back at Aria, however, unlike her, Kyri’s aim was true and the dagger hit its mark, sinking into Aria’s upper leg causing her to drop to the ground, cursing loudly.  “I don’t see it as interfering, I see it as intervention. You are letting yourself become too close to these people.  You are losing your objectivity, Aria.  You are letting yourself become vulnerable, weak.  They are just using you for their own purpose.”

“You Bitch!” Aria spat at Kyri as her hands wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and pulled it out, her blood flowing freely as she did so.  Keeping her eyes on the assassin, she began to heal her injury.  “They are no more using me than you are.  What makes you any different from what you are claiming them to be?  Isn’t it only a matter of time before you betray me for your own purposes as well?”

With her wound healed, Aria sat on the ground leaning against her bed,  glaring up at Kyri, the dagger laying where she had dropped it after having removed if it from her flesh.  She had been almost happy to see Kyri at first, but she now knew that the assassin had her own agenda, and somehow that included her.  Reaching up to the nightstand, she grabbed the bottle of wine that was there and popped its cork, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet liquid and allowing it to slide blissfully down her throat before she continued her conversation.

“Tell me Kyri, what is the real reason you sought me out?  I highly doubt it was to check on me and watch over me.”

A look of surprise crossed over Kyri’s face as she stood there staring down at the smaller woman. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly before she chose to answer Aria’s question.  She nodded as she lowered herself to the floor, sitting cross-legged opposite of Aria.  

“Fair enough, Aria, you are correct, checking up on you was not the only reason I had to seek you out.” She paused as she sat there, studying the other girl.  “As you know, I am trying to leave the organization, but one does not simply just walk away.  I managed to gather intel that puts two of its more prominent members in Warspear and I need your assistance in obtaining my ticket to freedom.”

Aria watched her as she spoke.  She looked for the tell-tale signs of lies but didn’t see any at this point. Nodding slowly, she waited for Kyri to continue.

“Rumor has it that they have recently obtained a rather…unique collection of artifacts while scavenging out in Ashran.  From what I am led to understand, these artifacts are almost in complete condition. If this rumor is true, then this collection is worth an immeasurable fortune, not to mention prestige.   There is one item in particular that I am truly interested in, an item that no one seems to know what it is or where it actually comes from, much less what it does.  This is my ticket.”

Aria leveled her gaze on Kyri and raised an eyebrow in curiosity.  “Sounds like you have a lot of information, but so far, I don’t see where I come into any of this.”

“They are having a small, private party to show off their finds before crating them up and sending them back to the manor.  Once these items get to the manor, there is no way anyone is going to be able to steal them.  I need you to act as a distraction for me so that I can obtain the artifacts and secure them accordingly.”

Tilting the bottle to her lips again, Aria takes another swig of wine.  The feeling that she was not being told everything kept nagging at her. Setting the bottle back on the nightstand, she tentatively rose to her feet, testing for any residual pain in her leg. Pleased to find none, she bent to retrieve the dagger and began to clean it with a cloth she took from the small drawer in the nightstand.

“A distraction, how? What is it exactly that you wish for me to do, Kyri?”

Knowing better than to be on a lower level than the priestess, Kyri took the opportunity to stand, her hands resting casually on the hilts of her own daggers as she leaned against the wall.  “By doing what it is you do best.  You have a unique skill set that men seem to enjoy and the fact that you don’t mind catering to the more…hmm, how to say this…deviant?...tastes  makes it all the better.”

Aria’s eyes flash in anger. ‘How dare her!’ the thought raced through her mind.  Her grip tightened on the dagger as she glared at Kyri.

“Settle down little hellion. You and I both know it’s true. Besides, it’s not as if you haven’t done such things before, catered to more than one at a time.”

“I thought you were supposed to be my friend.  How dare you assume that I do that anymore.  You are just as bad as all the others out there, no more a friend than a user…no, worse than that, a betrayer.  You can burn in fel-fire for all I care, Kyri, I won’t help you!”

Kyri looked genuinely shocked.  “You don’t whore anymore?  Since when?”

Closing her eyes, Aria began to count to ten.  The utter feeling of hurt and betrayal that had begun to well up inside of her was almost overwhelming.  The one person that she believed really cared turned out to be like all of the rest. Her mind began to race with different possibilities, different courses of action that were available to her. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let it out, opening her eyes at the end.  

“I haven’t followed that particular path for well over three years now, Kyri.  I have managed to improve my other talents, talents that are far more along the lines for extended survival.”  

“I see.”  Kyri looked her up and down, a small frown tugging at her mouth.  “That’s too bad.  I mean, not only would you be helping a friend out, but it would prove to be quite profitable for you as well.  Think of the price you could sell even one of those artifacts for.  I am only interested in the one piece; you can have all of the rest.”  

Kyri made a good point, with the artifacts, especially if they were in the condition that Kyri was saying, she could turn them over to Revlain.  Perhaps that would lighten his mood a bit.  It would certainly help to meet the deadline that he had mentioned and maybe even make up for her ‘poor attitude’ that he perceived.  Work would be a more amiable place.  Besides, Kyri was correct, it’s not as if she hadn’t whored herself out in the past.  Just this once more wouldn’t hurt, right?  Sex was simply a physical act, and it’s not as if she didn’t enjoy it. Deep down, she knew she was attempting to rationalize this because she desperately wanted to believe that Kyri was truly her friend, but the tiny, instinctive part of her was screaming warnings loudly.  Too bad her consciousness buried that even deeper.

“Fine, I’ll help you.” She said with a heavy sigh.  “But this will be the last time I will do so. This will call even any debt, real or perceived, between us.”

"The flesh is willing, but the soul is ruled by villainous mother fuckers into control."

That's what I'd said to him, disbelief running rampant in my veins as he offered up an apprenticeship. Seriously? No. Not real. He's lost a lot of blood and, even though I did ( mostly ) all right in stitching up that gash on his neck, my mind turning the idea of studying under him over and over and over some more, I can't let myself entertain the notion that he, Vlandriaek-fucking-gods-be-damned-Ravendusk, would want to teach me anything. Let alone what he knows. Which is a lot. 

The man's brilliant. I say that not just because I've already envisioned our wedding ( Northrend for sure. Screw that over the top Silvermoon socialite lust to have something big and known and attended by hundreds. I need small, private, the sound of the sea and trees, a land untamed and savage ), but because he's brilliant. He's got this creeptastic interest in pain and anatomy and the limits which a body can be pushed to. Fear. Patience of a saint, if saints enjoyed flaying people, which I assume he does because it seems to happen fairly routinely. The Noose. 

Back to those villainous mother fuckers though, two of whom Vlan would likely like to wrap his hands around and squeeze until breathing was no longer an option. Tyvenn, my half brother, and Revlain, my really-real brother. Follow that duo up with Tyvenn's twin, Velatarina, sinister bitch that she is. I'm pretty sure he's in love with her, my half sister, Vela. I know she's certainly in love with him. Which makes my want of him awkward at best, downright weird and impossible to achieve at worst. My money's on the latter.

Loyalties. Family first. Fel's bells - Vela would kill me if I touched him. I keep reminding myself of this, rather unsuccessfully, as I help him up, tucking my arm around his waist, his own landing across the top of my shoulders ( Heavy. Something delicious in his weight ). In my defense he's not helping any, wrapping himself next to me for support, his voice smoothly intellectual, tempered, trying my everything. Fucking fuck. Just. Fuck. I'd whine that life was unfair, something I'm told that I'm supposed to do at my age, but I have no sense of that, that need for things to be balanced, that want for justice. I mean, as long as that 'justice' means 'getting things your way' right? Because that's all I see and hear when people drag on about their the inequality of their lives.

The flesh is willing. Yes. A hundred-thousand-million times yes. But the soul...

The soul is telling me to shut the fel up and say 'yes'. Screw your duties, your boundaries. Chase. Run. Follow that dream down as far as it will go, spin and give in. 

But I can't. Not just yet. Maybe not ever. Especially not when his every glance or word or motion, the way his does oh anything, makes me weak in the knees. I can't be expected to make major life changing decisions in this state. I think. Uhm...

Sleep. Take him back to the safe house, tuck him in, feed him some painkillers and stay the fel away from him for the rest of the night. I'm warning you Mina, sleep on the damned floor if you have to. But do not crawl under the covers next to him. Yes, I know there's only one bed. No, that's not an excuse for bad behavior. No. No-no-no-no-no. Off limits.