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"I must confess, it's still not entirely clear to me what I'm doing here," I said.
Morrolan looked inscrutable, for reasons that were a mystery wrapped in an enigma - or possibly I was simply feeling fanciful and imagining things. It happens and that particular night - but never mind.
We were at Castle Black, where the party never ends and the only thing better than the wine is the food, unless you're too drunk to be discerning, in which case it might be the other way around. Being there on an important and sensitive mission for Morrolan, I did not think I would be in any position to find out.
"I am pleased the clothes I sent you fitted," he said. "I trust the color and cut met with your approval?"
He did not say that they had cost more than I normally spent on clothes in five years.
Being a kind-hearted and generous fellow, I did not mention this either. "Loiosh was a bit disappointed at the lack of a fancy hat. You know, the kind with a big plume."
"Who was disappointed that there wasn't a hat, boss?"
Morrolan added an additional layer of inscrutability and said, "Ah," in a tone that gave away nothing.
At least he hadn't said that he'd keep it in mind for next time. I wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not, mostly on account of still not having the first clue as to what I was supposed to be doing here.
"Yes," I said, not to be outdone.
Of course, he might say 'well', or 'so' or something the like in return, and then I might find myself stuck in a conversational quicksand with no hope of escape or deliverance.
"It's quite a simple matter, actually," he said.
"Pity. I was hoping for something complicated and dangerous, possibly involving the fate of the world as we know it being at stake."
Morrolan looked either surprised or amused. "No, not at all. That is - it's possible, but I consider it unlikely. It involves Aliera," he added, as if this explained everything. "It seems one of my guests has taken a fancy to her."
"Well," I said.
"So," Morrolan said.
"Quite." I nodded, trying to look as if the veil of confusion had been lifted from my eyes.
"Boss."
"It seems that he considers himself a poet of some renown," Morrolan said. His tone suggested that while there might be some who agreed with this opinion, Morrolan himself was not among them, which made the opinions of those who were worthless and beneath notice.
Being a lowly Jhereg and an Easterner besides, I decided to reserve judgment. On the other hand, Morrolan was a friend, and I tended to trust his opinion on a select selection of topics.
"Surely Aliera - " I suggested. If you know Aliera, you know what I mean.
"I would prefer to deal with the matter myself," Morrolan said firmly. "I invited him, after all."
"Well, everyone makes mistakes."
Morrolan's expression suggested he disagreed but was too polite to say so out loud, which went to show that sometimes, you really cannot trust the evidence of your own eyes.
"I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with poetry, you know," he said. "I have an appreciation for culture, and art, and such things."
"I'm very relieved to hear it, I'm sure. Next time I write some poetry, I'll be sure to solicit your opinion."
This time, Morrolan's expression suggested - something or another. I think. "You write poetry?"
"Doesn't everyone, when they're young and in love and convinced nobody in the world understands the way they feel?"
Morrolan thought about that one for a while. "Not recently, then," he said.
I needed a few moments to consider whether or not that hurt my feelings.
"Regardless, I must draw the line at public recitations," Morrolan went on, oblivious to my personal crisis. "Naturally, I cannot challenge him on the basis of those."
"Naturally."
"Good," Morrolan said. "I'm happy to have cleared that up for you. Thank you again for agreeing to do this for me, Vlad."
I shrugged, trying to look modest instead of mystified, befuddled and confused. "What else are friends for."
"That was a good talk the two of you had, boss. I was very impressed."
Morrolan's attention being required elsewhere, I had helped myself to some food and drink and withdrawn to a more or less quiet corner to recover. "Some help you were."
"You want my help, you can ask for it. I won't even require you to buy me any new clothes, how's that?"
"What would you do with clothes, anyway?"
"I bet I'd look good with one of those fancy hats. Next time you need to kill someone, just let them get a good look at me, and then while they're lost in admiration, you sneak up on them and get them from behind. It'll be easy."
"Vlad. There you are."
Speaking of getting snuck up on. Not that Morrolan had been trying, in all likeliness. Loiosh snickered, which was his prerogative, of course. Not everyone can snicker in secrecy, and far be it from me to envy those who can.
"Here I am." As we were not alone, it seemed a poor time to ask what I was supposed to be doing. "If you expected me to be somewhere else, I can only offer you my most humble apologies."
"Not now, I think. Perhaps later, if you insist," Morrolan said, putting his hand on my arm in a rather suggestive way. Suggestive of what, I didn't know, but I did know it suggested something.
The variety of expressions on the people around us strengthened this brilliant observation.
"Uh," I said. Years of experience at being a cocky asshole kept me from taking a step back. First rule of dealing with Dragon Lords: never show fear. Or lack of respect. Or your face, if you're smart. It is entirely possible to have a perfectly congenial relationship with a Dragon Lord via cordial correspondence, I'm sure. It might be even smarter not to have any relationship with one at all.
"Please. Allow me to fetch you another drink," Morrolan said.
So there I was, surrounded by people who thought Morrolan and I were -
"Good thing he's already getting you some more wine, huh, boss?"
I was spared having to come up with a reply by Morrolan's return. He'd brought a plate of food as well, which I considered a sensible act until the moment it became clear he had no intention of letting go of the plate.
As I, in turn, had no intention of being hand-fed, it made for a bit of an awkward moment.
"Hey boss. If you don't want it, can I - ?"
I gave in to the inevitable, managing to more or less avoid licking Morrolan's fingers. By which I mean, well, it's not easy to judge these things, all right? There's another person involved, and clearly, Morrolan had his own ideas about what was and wasn't appropriate. Not that I had any as such, you understand.
The way Morrolan was watching me while all this took place didn't help.
I had no idea what he was thinking. I supposed it might have been reassuring, given that I had no idea what I was thinking myself, either.
The wine helped and did not help, if you know what I mean. I was allowed to drink it myself, so at least there was that.
"In case you were wondering, I think you're petty, boss. I mean, that smelled like some prime piece of kethna, and you didn't even appreciate it."
"Have I already told you how pleased I am to see you wear my gift?" Morrolan said.
I noticed that he had gotten himself a drink from somewhere, too, or maybe someone else had gotten it for him, in which case it should probably worry me that I felt a bit peeved at the idea.
"The pleasure is entirely mine, my lord Morrolan," I said. "Mere words cannot suffice to express my gratitude."
Morrolan grinned. At least, he bared his teeth. From a Dragon, that doesn't necessarily mean a grin, but that's how it registered to me at the time. Maybe it was a grin, meaning exactly what you'd expect a grin to mean under those circumstances. Maybe it wasn't.
Regardless: someone a lot more foolish than I was (in other words: a Dzur, probably, and possibly a poet, though I only realized that part later) made a sound somewhat resembling a snicker, or a scoff, or some other noise indicating they found the sight of Morrolan's grin less than awe-inspiring, as was their good right, naturally.
(In hindsight, I had been mistaken: only the expression Morrolan made after the sound was a grin. I don't know what the one before was, sorry.)
Then it was gone, and I experienced what it felt to not be at the absolute center of a Dragon Lord's attention anymore.
Relieved, mostly, in case you were wondering.
Long story short, or short story short, really: Morrolan challenged the guy he wanted gone to a duel, they fought, Morrolan won, apologized, paid a lot of money and apparently got a volume of poetry dedicated to his modest self. Not love poetry, I should add, though not having read it, I don't actually know. I just assume.
Now that I think about it a bit more, maybe it was love poetry. I mean, if you're a poet wanting to get back at someone for skewering you for no good reason, dedicating you next collection of terrible poetry to him might be one way of going about it. But what do I know.
Morrolan came to see me a few weeks after, so before some of the above happened.
"I wanted to thank you again for your assistance," he said.
He'd brought a bottle of excellent wine that would go very nicely with my dinner, so I was in a pretty good mood. "Don't mention it. My pleasure. Besides, I got some nifty new clothes out of it."
"If I - " Unusually for Morrolan, he hesitated. "I knew that he would give offense. I hope very much that in knowing so, I did not."
It took me a while to untangle that sentence, which gave me time to adjust the recipe to feed two instead of one. Luckily, I'd planned on eating the same again the day after tomorrow.
"No offense meant, none taken. That's how that works between friends, isn't it?" I said.
He might have looked relieved or offended. "I would be happy to treat you to dinner somewhere. I don't want to put you to any trouble."
I considered suggesting he cut the onions by way of - something or another. "You got what you wanted, I got what I wanted, and everyone's happy. What more is there to talk about?"
"I know what I wanted," Morrolan said. "Though now I'm left wondering what it is that you wanted."
"A new fancy shirt to impress - well." I felt a bit awkward. "All right, so maybe what I got wasn't at the top of my wishlist or anything. Still, it's not like I did all that much."
I remembered the way he'd looked at me and the feeling of his fingers against my lips.
"In that case, would you like to do more?" Morrolan asked.
"Maybe put down the knife before you hurt yourself, boss."
Excellent advice, really, and I would have taken it, except then what would we have done for dinner? I hadn't really felt like eating out before, and I didn't think I felt like it now, even if with Morrolan paying, we could have gone somewhere very nice.
"I'd say I'm open to the possibility," I said. "Depending on what you had in mind."
He looked - well, he nodded, and started saying something, but I suggested we have dinner first, and he graciously agreed, and that was that.