Fire and Shadow: July

July

July was a very bad month for assassins. Summer, in general, was a bad season. Not because they liked the cold and damp (the more mentally unstable did but not most of them) but because it was harder to do their jobs in the warm summer months. They had some refuge from the baking sun in their underground Sanctuaries but no one could stay there forever. And, the Night Mother was evil enough to still give them work even under such bad conditions.

At first, Banus didn't know what all the fuss was about. A contract was a contract and, if anything, it would be easier to kill someone in such heat since they couldn't be bothered to move very much. However, that was before he had to do a contract, which happened to be in Bravil, where it was uncomfortably humid even in winter. After a few minutes, he was regretting his choice of clothes. The tight black leather did nothing to keep him cool and the prospect of going through people's stuffy cellars did not appeal to him at all.

Still, as he always said, a contract was a contract, no matter how sweaty and uncomfortable he was. In fact, he was right about the assumption that the targets wouldn't be very inclined to move. His target was lying lazily in bed when he found him and barely made any noise when the killing blow was given. His elation was short-lived, however. As he sneaked back out, he began to feel light-headed. His mouth was dry and he supposed that he was dehydrated, I should have remembered to bring a waterskin. He thought, belatedly.

He managed to get out of Bravil but, by the time he had crossed the rope bridge, everything was starting to get darker and not because it was so late. His legs felt like they were made out of jelly and he leaned against a tree for support, trying to regain his senses,

"Oh, for Sithis' sake!" A snappish voice from his right lashed at him, making Banus glance weakly around, "Look at you. You're a mess!"

"Al-Alval." His own voice sounded shivery and far-away. He tried to move away from the tree, dimly aware that he didn't want Alval to see him like this. But that made things worse. Without anything to lean on, he ended up collapsing onto the parched grass. He vaguely heard a shout of mixed disgust and fear before his vision became completely black.
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When he came to himself, he was lying in bed, still feeling weak but his mouth wasn't so dry. In fact, everything was pleasantly cool, although there was a rather dank smell hanging in the air. After opening his eyes, he realised that he was in the sleeping quarters of the Sanctuary.

The banging door made him jump and he saw Alval coming towards him with a bagfull of potions. A look of thunder was on his face. Banus decided quickly that he'd better get the first word in before Alval could go into a rage, "I'm sorry, Alval. I know I should have been better prepared for going out on the job. I'm sorry for making you carry me back to the Sanctuary."

"Tell that to your horse." Alval stated, dumping the potions on the bedside table so hard that it was a miracle they didn't break, "He was the one carrying you, not me. You're too heavy for me."

Banus was almost inclined to take offence at this statement but, then, Alval would think that was too womanish so he resisted the urge.

"Uh," Banus said, hesistantly, "why were you in Bravil?"

"Not to pick up dehydrated blockheads. That what you want to know?"

He really is in a bad mood today. Must be the heat. Banus reached up and caught Alval's shoulders. With a small pull, he managed to bring the taller mer down onto the bed,

"Banus, what are you doing?" Alval scowled,

"You're sexy when you're angry." Banus stated, cheekily. He hadn't had the courage to say that for months,

"Okay, get those potions down you. You're delirious."

"No, I'm not." And, as though it proved it, Banus crashed his lips against Alval's. Although Alval was warm, he was comfortably so, unlike the balmy air of Bravil. Alval's indignant noise only encouraged him to push harder against the other's mouth. After a while, Alval finally gave in and started kissing him back. Banus obligingly opened his mouth to allow Alval's tongue to invade. The pleasant jolts that came with Alval's tongue mapping his mouth made him feel much better already.

However, Alval had to spoil the mood as always by pulling away and picking up one of the potions, "Am I going to have to force this down your throat?"

Banus pouted, "Will you give it to me mouth to mouth?"

"Ugh." Alval groaned, "Are you always this eager for intimacy when you're sick?"

"Just when I'm really hot."

"Wow." Alval muttered, as he poured the first potion into a glass, "I never thought the phrase 'in heat' would be so literal in your case."