tcdale Posted July 20, 2009 Posted July 20, 2009 Written for the International Day of Femslash (18 July); PG rated, some innuendo, no bad words, no sex. You can read it on my website as well by following this link. (But it's the same text as here.) Oh, and written in less than a day, so yes, it's rough. ========== “I’m out,†Alexander said, tossing his cards down on the table. Nalia glanced up, meeting Vicona’s gaze over the top of her cards. The drow woman looked back with steady, unreadable eyes. A pile of gold coins – nearly the entire spoils from the party’s raid on the slaver’s compound – lay gathered in front of her. Whether by skill, subterfuge, or sorcery, the priestess had managed to win nearly everyone’s share. Korgan and Minsc had already departed the table, the former much less politely than the latter, and now that Alexander had bowed out, only Jaheira and Nalia remained. “I raise you three gold,†the De’Arnise heir responded, throwing the coins into the central pot. She only had four left, but the chances that Viconia had a hand better than her five nobles was slim. “Match.†Jaheira slid her last few gold over. “Very well.†Viconia matched the bid and laid her cards down on the table. Three Lords and two Ladies smiled up at the three seated women. Jaheira scowled. Her two Pages and a trio of Cups were no match for Viconia’s hand. “You win.†The druid warrior pushed her chair back, making no secret of her displeasure, and departed the room as well. Now it was down to the two. Nalia shook her head and sighed. “If I hadn’t cast detect magic on you after the third hand, I would swear you were cheating.†Viconia smirked and gathered up her winnings. “Shall we continue, rivvil, or have you had enough for one night?†“Enough?†Nalia grinned. If there was one way to make her do something, it’d always been to tell her she shouldn’t – or couldn’t – handle it. Aunty Delcia had never figured that out, and the frustration of it had given her quite a few gray hairs before her time. Nalia loved a challenge, and that definitely sounded like one. She scooped up the cards and began reshuffling. “Not on your life.†One pale eyebrow arched up. “Strong talk from someone with but one gold to her name.†“Is one coin not enough for you? I figured you would want it all.†“I am not so paltry in my desires.†“Oh, please.†Nalia rolled her eyes as she handed over the pack. “Deal the cards.†“How about a worthwhile wager?†Viconia suggested, taking the stack. “Such as?†“You are rich, Nalia, and to the rich money holds no special value: there is infinite supply.†The small, arrogant smirk returned. “I’d rather wager something special. Something you’re afraid of losing.†“Such as?†Nalia repeated. “Something personal.†“Just come out with it. What do you want?†Viconia flicked five cards from the top of the deck and laid them down in front of Nalia’s waiting hands. “You,†she stated. “For the rest of the night.†Nalia’s finely shaped brows rose in surprise. “Me?†“Indeed.†“What for?†she asked warily, as Viconia dealt out five additional cards to herself. “Oh, don’t look so frightened,†the dark woman chided. “You won’t have to clean floors or anything similarly unpleasant.†“I suspect I’ll find it objectionable regardless; why else would you want it?†“You’ll object, I’m sure,†Viconia confirmed, looking up with smoky blue-grey eyes and a small smile. “I simply said it wouldn’t be unpleasant.†That sounded dangerous… and intensely intriguing. She had a fair idea of what Viconia had in mind; the dark elf took a special pleasure in tormenting her, in trying to bring the haughty noble down a level or two. The suggestion that Nalia would be better suited as a servant was nothing new, and the whispered comments away from other’s ears had made clear what kind of service it should be. This was the first time, however, that Nalia had taken the flippant comments seriously. Viconia was raising the stakes, indeed. Nalia tapped her lacquered fingernails against the wooden tabletop as she considered the offer. “And if I win?†“The reverse, of course,†Viconia answered, taking her cards in hand. Her voice took on her characteristic mocking tone. “I shall be your devoted servant until dawn.†“Even if you have to clean floors?†Nalia challenged. “Even then, rivvil. I suppose it is too much to hope that you would come up with a more interesting task.†The cards were still waiting. Viconia was right: she didn’t care about the money, but this wager made her pause. Tymora had been favoring the dark elf tonight, for gods-only-knew what reasons, and those five cards could change her life considerably. If Viconia won, it would cross a line that had never been crossed, and she would never hear the end of it. She doubted any of her traveling companions would care, but the Roenalls certainly would, as would anyone of any standing in all of Amn. Nalia De’Arnise, sullying herself with a dark elf, traded away on a hand of cards. It sounded positively indecent. Scandalous. Aunty Delcia would die of embarrassment. “You’re on,†she said, scooping up her cards. Viconia’s eyebrow shot clear into her hairline; Nalia met the surprised look with narrowed brown eyes. Her hand was good: a pair of Lords gazed back at her  Swords and Hearts, the two highest in the game. As Viconia studied her own cards, Nalia discreetly slid the card she’d palmed earlier out of her sleeve. The Lord of Swords disappeared, replaced by a lowly Two of Cups: a losing hand for sure. A small, rebellious smile curved her lips. She always loved a challenge.
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