Leave it to Davahn to turn a two-day trip into three.
I sigh to myself as I practically drag my exhausted body back to our small camp, longing for the brilliant luxury of indoor plumbing. It's kind of like when your nose is itchy, and you think of all of those priceless times that you took your non-itchy nose for granted. Or when you have the hiccups for an hour straight, and you think of all the times that you took your non-heeyucking moments for granted. You swear you'll never make that mistake again, but as soon as your nose stops itching or your hiccups stop heeyucking... wait, what were we talking about?
That's my relationship with toilets in a nutshell.
As I'm walking, I'm so lost within my own genius inner monologue that I almost walk right into camp without noticing the sound of multiple voices. Quickly but quietly --well, as quietly as I can manage-- I hop up the closest tree and perch on one of the branches. With what I pray to the gods is sneaky grace, I slowly begin moving between branches, straining my non-elven ears to make out anything that's being said.
"Are you going to tell us where she is, or do you still prefer to do things the hard way, Dahvie?"
Whether or not I save your ass is riding on this answer, Dahvie boy. Choose wisely.
But I don't hear Dahvie boy speak at all, a silence that is quickly followed by the unmistakable crack of a fist slamming into a jaw. Aside from a pissed-sounding groan, there's still nothing but silence from the clearing of our camp.
Gods fucking damnet, of course. The only time you're not a jerk is when it means that
I
have to get my hands dirty.
Rolling my eyes hard enough for the dark elf to hopefully hear it, I quickly scamper across the tree line before perching on a branch directly above our camp. There are five orcs surrounding Davahn, his arms tied behind him around a tree. The largest orc stands directly in front of him, directly below me. As he pulls his arm back for what I'm assuming is
not
a high five, I swing upside down with the back of my knees hooked onto my branch, pressing my dagger against his neck.
"Let me guess-- Zack Rider sent you?" I'm impressed by how bored I manage to make my voice sound even when it feels like I'm about to pass out from terror. Being upside down probably isn't helping with that, but I've always prioritized flare over practicality.
"What the--" The orc leader's speaking seems to knock his buddies out of whatever shocked daze they're in, but as they approach, I use my free hand to yank one of my throwing knives out of my boot and hold it out in what I hope is a very threatening way.
"Ah, ah, ah." I coo condescendingly to the Orcs before pressing my dagger against the leader's neck more firmly. "You don't want to make me repeat myself, I assure you. I've never been all that patient with your gender."
When I hear Davahn snort at that, I give him a look that I hope communicates,
"Watch it, or I'll just let them kill you."
I'm pretty sure the message went through loud and clear because he busies himself with looking around the tree line, seeming suddenly enraptured by the distant foliage.
"Yeah, Ryder sent us. What of it?" The orc is smart enough to sound slightly nervous, and I let out an appreciative sigh.
"See, was that so hard?" I punctuate the question by sliding my dagger across his neck, throwing one of my knives at the orc closest to Davahn as I do a small flip before landing on my feet in the dirt, another throwing knife in my free hand before the orcs even have time to register my movements. With a few more throws and a quick stabby stab, all of our party guests are dead. Davahn's breathing sounds only slightly labored as I kneel in front of him.
"Show off." He mutters under his breath as he stares at me through hooded eyes. There's a spot on the right side of his jaw that's now a slightly darker shade of grey than the skin surrounding it, but otherwise, he looks fine.
I cock my head slightly and sweetly say, "I learned from the best, Daddy." I then place a tender kiss on the likely very sore spot, lapping at it gently with the tip of my tongue.
The dark elf lets out a small groan of approval before saying, "Be a good girl and free my hands for me."
"Hmm..." I hum as I suck on my bottom lip, my hand delicately tracing the veins in his neck, "I dunno, I sort of fancy the way you look in rope."
"Oh,
love
." He drawls out the word as if
I
were the one currently tied up and helpless, "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you should stop thinking it, or you're going to regret it."
"Am I really?" I taunt him as I straddle his lap, lifting his shirt over and behind his head so that I can drink him in. With his arms tied behind him, his broad chest is poking out slightly, just begging to be touched.
When I lick my lips from the sight, my fingers gently tracing his collar bone, the dark elf reverently whispers to me, "If you promise to look at me like that for the rest of my life, I'll get down on my knees right now and beg for you to be my bride."
"Hmm..." I run featherlight touches over the planes of his broad, dark chest as I say, "Unfortunately for you, that's not what I want you to beg for."
Davahn tongues the inside of his cheek as an eyebrow meets his hairline, amusement bordering on admiration in his voice as he says, "There are dead bodies right there, you harlot."
"Awe. I thought you were the biggest and baddest boy?" I tilt my head and pout as cutely as I can manage, which is pretty fucking cute if I do say so myself, "Are you scared? I can move them for you if it's giving you the spooks."
The dark elf chuckles somewhere deep in his gut as his head falls back against the tree behind it. "You're begging for me to spank your ass raw."
"Am I?" I kiss along his jaw as I whisper to him, "You keep talking about punishing me, but I'd say I've felt pretty spoiled rotten as of late."
