II. Massage

Massage

Prior to the Third War, Merandil visited the High Elven capital city, Silvermoon, thrice during his stay in Lordaeron. While some of the friends he made in those days retained their allegiance and racial identity, the majority of the survivors became Blood Elves and, by extension, members of the Horde.

However, that did not necessarily make them his enemies. In fact the opposite was often true, as it was in the very nature of the Elves to be opportunistic and many drew an unseemly enjoyment out of deception and games of trust. They were enemies of his state by day, but by night allies and friends. And Merandil made damn sure to take care of his friends.

The "friend" in question was Sinalla, a wealthy descendant of the Clearwind family and quite the socialite. Unfortunately, as the last of the Clearwind family's renowned Blood Mages, she was right in the middle of the cut-throat politics of Silvermoon. The missive he recieved had contained only the sparsest details about the situation, hidden within an encryption that also encompassed a good seven paragraphs of complete drivel to throw off any would-be spies getting their hands on it.

One of the few pieces of intel he had managed to decipher had been to meet her in one of the city's outer towers, something he had mixed feelings about. After last week he had serious doubts about scaling a flat stone wall without backup, but while he knew the city's layout fairly well, not having to dodge Arcane Guardians for four hours as he tried to figure out where to go by reading road-signs in a language he barely spoke was always quite preferable.

The enchanted climbing hook he swiped for himself made the climb a lot easier even though it was much longer, on a far less malleable surface. Using a compact crossbow to launch the hook up towards the top of the crystal-adorned spire, Merandil tugged hard at the attached rope to see wether or not the hook had stuck. After finding out that it didn't, and subsequently dodging it, Merandil tried again, adjusting his aim and successfully latching the hook onto a brass railing. After that, climbing all the way up was tedious, but simple.

He stopped short of the railing, simply letting himself hang for a while as he shifted his legs into position for the final lunge. He didn't really believe Sinalla would go to all this trouble just to get at him, but there was always the possibility that something had gone out of her control. He confirmed the metal blades on his boots had dug into the rock surface to give his feet grip, and he finally jumped, pulling at the rope with both hands, and then letting go. Placing both hands on the railing, he pushed down for more upward momentum and neatly vaulted over the railing an down onto the balcony. As he landed, he crouched down into a defensive posture, trailing his four-barrel mousegun at the nearest Elf.

Fortunately for the Elf in question, it really was Sinalla. She was lying on a low couch on the other side of the balcony, arms spread out along the back of the couch and her legs crossed in front of her in a pose that was equal parts sexy and clichéd. Still keeping his gun trailed on her, Merandil surveyed the room.

-"Really now" Sinalla said, -"you don't really think so lowly of me?"
-"Yeah I do." Merandil snapped back, before standing up and holstering the pistol.

Sinalla was a very typical Blood Elf of her generation. A pampered lifestyle had her thin with very little muscle, her skin was very pale, almost white, and her hair was dyed a very strong red, leaving no trace of the natural blonde hair she used to have. Her eyes glowed the usual fel-green, maybe more intense than others because of her rather obvious continued use of fel magic, whereas others phased this out for safer sources of mana. She was wearing a red robe with golden trim, a low cut and an exposed midriff, a design that he recalled had been common among the followers of Kael'thas and had lost most of its appeal to the general public since his downfall.

Presumably in response to his visual inspection, Sinalla shifted off the couch and straightened her back, pointedly thrusting her chest outwards. Merandil was amused, but unimpressed.

-"It's good to see you." she began, stepping closer to him and, when he deigned not to react, put a hand on his armoured chest, -"And I'm really glad you came on such short notice. I need your help."
-"I reckoned this was a bit extensive for a social visit. Alright. What is it?"

Sinalla laughed, as softly as was befitting her appearance, and shook her head.

-"We're not that pressed for time, you came sooner than I expected, I-"
-"What is it?" Merandil quipped again, but Sinalla didn't acknowledge his attempt to interrupt her, continuing;
-"I think we could use the time to catch up, you know? Just, talk a bit." she finished with a beaming smile that was probably meant to goad Merandil over by cuteness alone. It worked, sort of.
-"After you tell me what you want."

The Elf nodded, taking his stubbornness in stride and pointedly bringing herself a small step closer to him, to the point she had to tilt her head significantly to look him in the eyes.

-"I'm not exactly a popular voice in the city these days."
-"You, not popular? That's got to be new."
-"I see you're still not very funny. No, look, this is important..."
-"It better be, I'm not risking my ass because you're bored."
-"Pay attention!" she sighed, poking his chest to make her point, though her delicate fingers and the thick leather armour meant that it lost a lot of its impact -"This could kill me!" she then snapped, and with no more effort had Merandil's full attention.

Without fully realizing it, he put his hands on her hips and focused his gaze on her sternly. After a moment's frustrated silence, Sinalla's ears drooped slightly and she begun to slowly nod.

-"Like I... Said..." she started again, her voice timid in a way that seemed out of place for her as Merandil knew her, -"My opinions tend to differ from the norm... And I get quite vocal about them. That's not exactly appreciated, but since I'm quite a prominent figure they can't just shut me up."

Merandil nodded slowly as he listened, recounting in his head the usual means by which the Silvermoon authorities would enforce 'public consensus'. The High Elves had been civilized once, but they'd lost more than just their land and faith to the Scourge.

-"Unfortunately, the same benefits don't apply to my friends." she continued, a subtle twitch at the edge of her left eye the only tell of her anger, -"Over the past two months, three of my closest friends - and staunchest political supporters - have been killed."
-"And you think they'll go after you, next?"
-"No. Maybe. I think they're trying to scare me into shutting up."
-"Bad call."
-"Exactly."

A thin, cruel smirk was spreading across Sinalla's face, breaking the mask of innocent victim that she'd been setting up. Merandil found this view of her more familiar, unfortunately.

-"I found out who did it" she said, the outright unpleasant look on her face darkening further, -"and I want him dead."

Merandil nodded, taking a step back and asserting his equipment while Sinalla continued; -"His name is Parran Emberlight, the guy who killed them. Probably a mercenary, but he could as well be a sympathizer. Either way I want him gone."
-"That should be easy enough," Merandil said, still inspecting his throwing knives and poison capsules, -"so where do I start looking?"
-"I already know where he is, or rather, where he will be. He's been away to Forsaken territory, probably doing some wetwork for them there, but tomorrow night he'll be here, in Silvermoon, probably in some slummy brothel in the back alleys spending his pay."
-"I could take him out on his way to or from there, minimize the risk of endangering civilians," Merandil said mostly to himself, -"but in the meantime?" he finished, looking up at her.

Sinalla had crossed the room, to a stairwell leading down from the spire, and flashed him a short smile over her shoulder. She seemed to have calmed down, but her mask of innocence wasn't coming back.

-"Catching up?" she said, tilting her head to the side as she turned to face him, then turning back and heading down the stairwell. Merandil followed, still adamantly refusing to let his guard down.

Sinalla led him down through the tower and into a large chamber which was, judging by the view out the windows, still only halfway down the spire's full height. The room itself was fairly ordinary, with white, smooth marble walls decorated in red and gold. The floor was mostly yellow and bright brown, although most of it was covered in red and blue carpets. Aside from a large oval bed and a small couch, the room was sparse on furniture, with only a very small table accompanying the couch and a chair for visitors. There were shelves with the usual things you'd find in a Mage's lair, potions and scrolls and books and trinkets, all lined up in no particular order and many giving off a soft glow that was very likely not healthy.

Sinalla sat down on the couch, taking up a similar pose to the one she initially held, and eyed Merandil with a sultry look that, while quite convincing, was very obviously fake given the circumstances. In the past her attempts to appear alluring and charming had been far less overt and a lot more effective, and although Merandil hadn't been valuable enough himself to manipulate at the time, he'd seen her string Elven men along for her schemes only to leave them with their pants down and nothing to show for it.

-"So, how have you been all this time, my friend?" she finally said.
-"I suspect you already know, given that you knew where to find me." he responded, going to sit on the chair opposite to her.
-"More than I should, maybe. But less than I'd like."
-"Good."

She frowned slightly, then shook her head, continuing her habit of gracefully brushing off his stubbornness.

-"For my part, I spend most of my time finding ways to undermine the Horde without forcing confrontations."
-"Yeah. Didn't do so well at that, did you?"
-"At least I'm trying. That's more than what most of these sympathising rats are doing..."
-"Maybe it's silly to ask, but do you do anything that doesn't put your life on the line? You have fel magic on one side and outright treason on the other..."
-"I do massages." she quipped.

Merandil raised an eyebrow and barely contained a chuckle at her awkward delivery. Sinalla squirmed uncomfortably, indicating she probably didn't mean to imply exactly what she ended up implying.

-"I'm intrigued, but sceptical." Merandil joked.
-"You did ask."
-"Do I dare ask more?"
-"By all means..." she said, although it was obvious she'd rather he didn't. So he did.
-"Easier to earn supporters that way, rather than just ranting, eh?"

Sinalla flushed a stark pink colour, simply nodding. This could be fun.

-"I don't exactly do it for... I mean, it's kinda just a hobby. I considered opening a uh... A what's the word? But uh, anyway the whole thing's gone over pretty okay..."
-"Not a big clientele, though?"
-"Oh, no, you know, just experimenting on... Friends..." she hesitated, eyeing Merandil briefly with a more uneasy look, -"and the occasional partner."

Merandil chuckled again. Even now she was quite transparent. Figuratively of course, her actual skin was almost bright red now, to match her hair. Talking about her sexual conquests made her a little more comfortable, which would seem odd to an onlooker, but Merandil knew the reason the notion of massages made her squirm; She hated seeming soft.

As long as she was in control, Sinalla could appear any way she pleased. Her true self was confident and calculating, or so she liked to be perceived by her friends. The less others knew about her real personality the bigger her advantage was, though. But this wasn't an act, it was something she genuinely enjoyed, and leaving her literal soft side exposed made her very uncomfortable. And Merandil found this hilarious.

-"Seeing as we're friends..." he said, trying and failing not to smirk, -"what'll it cost me?"
-"You can't be serious." she said, giving him an odd look.
-"Sure I can. I mostly just choose not to."
-"You haven't stopped aiming your gun at me all this time, and you think I'll believe you'd leave yourself at my mercy?" she laughed briefly, shaking her head.

Merandil didn't catch it at first, but then realised that she was referring to the wrist-mounted spike-launcher concealed in a small bulge on his glove. He didn't actually think she'd notice it - most people never did - and he certainly hadn't paid it any mind. It probably said a lot about him that he'd point weapons at his friends without noticing...

-"Well it's not like I couldn't kill you while naked." he responded with a shrug. Not a bad save, really. She laughed again, and presumably the joking nature of the whole exchange - which gave the impression that her alleged soft side was part of that joke - made her more comfortable. That was, of course, nowhere as much fun, so Merandil followed suit by removing his shoulderpads.

Sinalla covered her face loosely with one hand and mumbled something in Thalassian that Merandil couldn't pick up, and stood back up from the couch. The motion, to Merandil's disappointment, was more annoyed than embarrassed, but it was good enough.

-"Fine" she said, looking through her fingers, -"but only because I could use the practice."
-"So doesn't count towards payment for the job, eh?"
-"And here I thought you were doing me a favour because you'd prefer that I didn't die." she smirked and walked over to the bed.
-"I suppose so. I could use having you in debt, though." he responded, his head somewhere inside his chestpiece, which wasn't very easy to remove in a graceful manner.

After parting with his shirt and most of his armour Merandil sat on the bed, then turned to lie on his stomach. Even mostly naked and completely unarmed he didn't feel very threatened by Sinalla, because he knew her a little more than she'd like him to. Like most people, she had a natural need for closeness which was the drive behind her actions here, but more importantly she was a politician, and like all politicians, she wasn't above stabbing people in the back, proverbially or literally. But like most politicians, Sinalla was above all a coward, and without Merandil she wasn't likely to get rid of the assassin that was probably after her head. He didn't have to worry about watching his back until the job was done.

Even though confident, he looked at her over his shoulder from where he lay. She'd removed the top of her two-piece robe and replaced it with a vest which, while giving a good view of her stomach and arms, was enough to cover her modest bust. He mused that having bare arms was simply a case of being less clumsy, but also entertained the thought that she was trying a little too hard to make this otherwise innocent exchange come across as foreplay. Not that he was stupid enough to let it go that far - there were limits to how exposed he'd leave himself, even with her.

She'd moved a small tray onto the bed, on which stood a towel and some vials that he was at least partly confident weren't dangerous. She rubbed her hands with the contents of one, the smell of which reminded Merandil of an unpleasant near-miss with a Kaldorei Druid, just without the broken bones. She began running her fingers along his back, caught up for longer than was appropriate with inspecting the numerous thick scars. Merandil made a habit of having scars on his face and chest doused in healing salves and waters to diminish them, but reaching his own back wasn't always easy.

Whispering something to herself in Thalassian, Sinalla placed her hands between his shoulder blades, and slowly begun to massage along his spine. She was gentle, even careful at first, her slender fingers probing for particularly tense spots, which weren't hard to find. Merandil tried to relax but the little common sense he had forced him to remain alert, and subsequently she had a hard time effectively relieving the tension in his muscles.

It took a while, Merandil wasn't sure how long, but the elf's nimble fingers and soft skin eventually begun having an effect on him. The soft scent that permeated the room was, once he'd gotten used to it, also helping him relax. Sinalla had shed the bottom half of her robe as well and sat herself on his lower back. She didn't weigh much, and the warmth and feel of the silk she wore instead was actually fairly comfortable.

They'd both been mostly quiet throughout, making the whole thing seem more intimate than it was, while the truth was that neither had anything to say that wasn't a snarky remark they'd already made. For this reason, Merandil was mildly surprised when she finally spoke up after what felt like at least an hour.

-"This is... More pleasant than I remember." she quipped, having stopped to apply a fresh layer of oil to her hands.
-"We've never done this before." he responded, one eye glancing at her over his shoulder.
-"Remind me why." she said in a slightly softer tone, very purposefully leaning down as she rubbed his neck, pushing her chest into his back.
-"Because the last time I was here you were busy trying to seduce a Magister. And when that failed..."
-"I had a go at you to salvage my bruised ego, and your squad leader dunked your head with cold water..." she laughed.
-"Yeah, Merc bands aren't supposed to fraternize with the locals. Kinda makes it hard to get a job when a local politician's on your ass because you shagged his daughter."

Sinalla laughed at first, but it faded quite suddenly.

-"He's gone now, you know. My father, that is."
-"My squad leader too" Merandil said, -"but that's the Scourge War for you, right? Doesn't really leave anyone unaffected."

Sinalla was still now, lying against his back with her cheek resting on his shoulder. She stirred a bit, shifting one leg along Merandil's side, and sighed quietly before sitting back up.

-"Yeah." she finally managed to say, before climbing off of the bed entirely. Merandil looked up at her, raising an eyebrow but not really making any effort to confront her.
-"Don't get up, I'll only be a minute..." she whispered, seemingly hesitant, -"I just need some air."

With that poor excuse, Sinalla disappeared up the stairs towards the top of the spire. Merandil felt a slight stir in his gut, urging him to pursue her, but he decided against it. This job was too important to get it muddled up with actual feelings. Just because she was unprofessional didn't mean he had to be.

He shifted, feeling mildly annoyed. Without Sinalla's constant ministrations, the drying oils on his back made it bloody cold. It would probably be a good idea to get up and dry off, maybe get something to drink, if he could figure out what was what on the shelves and not drink something that was toxic, or would turn him into a gopher.

As he heard quiet footsteps from the stairs he decided not to bother, simply lying back down and relaxing. Her footsteps seemed lighter than before, and a lot slower, probably because she'd calmed down. Though there was something else off about the sound, the tact seemed strange... Like walking up a staircase, rather than down.

Merandil froze still as the subtle hints came into place. The echo of the round room masked it at first, but the footsteps had been ascending the stairs from ground-level, and by now whoever it was had reached the room. Merandil remained still, party covered by the bed's silk sheets, and hoping that the visitor intended to continue up in pursuit of Sinalla, which would buy him time to get his weapons.

Unfortunately that wasn't the case. The room seemed completely silent, indicating whoever was with him was very careful, and very adept, but to Merandil's trained ears even the slightest disturbance was noticeable. Whoever was in the room stepped on the carpets, and presumed that the step would be dampened by the thick cloth. However, the added pressure caused the carpet to slip slightly along the floor. It was a soft, very quiet sound, like two hands rubbed together, but it was enough to give its location away.

Merandil waited until the carpet shifted a second time as the sneaking figure stepped off it, and lashed out. Rolling over and out of the bed, he kicked with his legs to send the silk sheets that had covered his lower body flying towards the source of the sound. Landing on his hands, he stood quickly. Unfortunately, the assassin was just as quick, and a short sword neatly clove the sheet in half.

The attacker was an Elven male clad in red and black leather armour and mask, with a curved shortsword in one hand and a jagged dagger in the other. He held still only long enough for Merandil to observe these details before he lunged forward. Merandil was a very competent fighter, but going unarmed against a sword was never a good idea. Subsequently, he used the tray.

The tray wasn't much of a shield, but it none the less managed to deflect the sword, and a second swing got it out of the attacker's hand. While he was quick to recover his balance, Merandil had already gotten back onto the bed - the assassin was standing between him and his weapons cache - and grabbed one of the large pillows off of it. He held it up with both hands as the assassin lunged at him again, this time with his dagger in a straight, underhanded thrust.

Thrusting back with the pillow, the dagger went right through it. As expected, upon having his wrist caught, the attacker tried to flex his wrist to pull it free - one of the main reasons Merandil rarely used daggers was because of the lacking reach - but before he had the presence of mind to pull his hand loose, Merandil violently jerked the pillow hard to the side, tossing the assassin off balance and shoving him back. While using the opportunity to tackle the Elf might have seemed sensible, he wasn't going to risk catching the dagger in the ribs.

Now on the other side of the bed, he set his feet down and shoved the entire piece of furniture towards his adversary. The Elf was quick to recognize Merandil's attempts to simply throw him off guard, and turned to retrieve his sword instead. Losing time, Merandil made the sprint for his weapons, but seemed too late.

Once again working to Merandil's benefit was the Elf's choice of weapons. With a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, he could make swift strikes, but his balance was off. Being an Elf would balance this out somewhat, but not enough. As he reached it, Merandil kicked the carpet up and pulled it with him as he ran, throwing the much lighter Elf off his balance enough to use the carpet for cover against the first blow. Like the bed covers before it, the carpet suffered an ignoble end, but bought Merandil enough time to retrieve his right glove from the floor.

Without actually putting it on, he aimed the glove at the Elf and stuck one hand on the wristguard, firing the small built-in spike launcher. The mithril spike thrown out by the air pressure behind it came like a glowing bolt, but the assassin managed to dive to the side, and it only succeeded in knocking something expensive looking off of the shelf. Merandil bought himself another second... And hurled the heavy glove at the assassin, buying himself another.

Still on the ground, Merandil lunged towards his weapons. The assassin was already on top of him, and still too far from his swords, guns or daggers, Merandil chose the fourth option, grabbing the table. He swung it at the assassin's legs at first, but the Elf gracefully dodged the clumsy attack, and Meradil barely had time to bring the small wooden table up to block the Elf's attack, much less grab any weapons of his own.

The assassin was more alert now, and with his dagger raised shifted his weight against Merandil's guard, and shoved hard forward. Merandil, not yet on his feet, was flung backwards, onto the floor. A desperate thrust with the split remains of the table wasn't enough to disarm him, but the Elf none the less tossed his sword aside and took a firm two-handed grip of the wicked dagger as he leaned down over Merandil, using the weight of his knees to force the human down.

Before Merandil had the time to even register it, it was over. A blade protruded a good nine inches out of the assassin's chest, splattering bright blood right over his face. A blurry, red and black shape moved behind his attacker, and came into view as she pulled the shortsword out. Sinalla looked down at Merandil as the Elven assassin collapsed onto the floor. Merandil was quick enough in sitting himself up to get a good look of Sinalla's backside as she walked over to the assassin, still squirming on the ground.

She said something. Merandil was too woozy to register what exactly was said, but the subject was obvious. Not so much by her tone of voice as the fact that she thrust the shortsword through the assassin's throat. Merandil slowly got to his feet, wearily watching her.

-"What'd you say?"
-"I told him he's fired." Sinalla said, exasperated. The sword dropped from her hand, hitting the floor with a violent clatter.
-"Harsh."

Sinalla turned around, and didn't seem surprised to find Merandil pointing one of his own swords at her.

-"You'll still get paid." she said, a faint, but weary smirk on her lips.
-"I'd like to start with an explanation." he snapped.
-"What's the best way to find a mercenary, Merry?" Sinalla responded, folding her arms.

Merandil paused, eyeing her, and then remembered something he heard long ago.

-"You hire him..." he said, nodding slowly, and lowering his sword, -"I don't appreciate being bait, though."
-"I had no choice. If he even suspected this was a trap... It's likely I'd have never caught him again. I got you because I knew you'd have a good chance of surviving."

Sinalla seemed remorseful, but Merandil begun to recognize things he missed before, and piece together the evening's events. Sinalla hadn't grown soft. She'd hardened. And her charms hadn't become unrefined. They were better hidden than ever. He should have picked up on it, lest it cost him something more than a few bruises the next time. He turned around, fetching a piece of cloth from inside his armour to dry off the blood and sweat.

-"That looks painful." Sinalla said. She was facing away from him, glancing at him over her shoulder as she cast some sort of spell to get rid of the assassin's body. It smelled pretty bad, but the heavy scent from the smashed bottles by the bed helped.
-"It's not mine." he smirked faintly.
-"You still look pretty bad." she said as she finished, and approached him.

Sinalla laid her arms around his waist, and he could still feel a bizarre warmth in them from whatever spell she had been casting.

-"So, do you want to pick up where we left off?" she said with a grin that could almost be felt.

Merandil laughed. Mostly at the fact that he'd probably say yes.

~Fin

You finished it! I'm pleased; I ended up quite liking it. I think you struck a good balance with the detail, and the twist at the end was satisfying.