A Thief in Deed not Word

[Artemis Black]

"-and then I regale him with all the ways I want him to-" Artemis was halfway through explaining in excruciating detail his designs upon his Kerasokan lover when Deborah prodded him firmly in the chest with an accusatory finger.

"You certainly are acting like Dáire's a favored whore you want to lavish with your drunken lust, rather than anything a more grandiose bard might call a subject of love," the Korcai declared with annoyance, the barest edge of venom in her cool expression and he eyes radiating disdain. Her patience with the thief, normally near bottomless, had waned quickly as he had rambled on.

Artemis deflated immediately and his brow creased with worry as he touched his chest where he felt a faint bruise forming. The words set in an instant later, shattering the excitement of the ideas swirling in his head. "I- oh. You didn't have to twist the knife like that Deb," he weakly countered, and it was clear there was no actual heat to his protest.

"Did I not? You're treating this like any number of tumbles you've had and I remember quite well how all those ended up," Deborah pressed further, her manicured brow arching as she tightened her lips a fraction. To many it would be hardly noticed, however to Artemis, who lived and died by his observance of the smallest details, she may as well have been having a parade of cold fury.

Artemis sighed deeply, scrubbing at his face and frowning at the faint sheen of sweat there. "Fair- I do really want him to see me as more than just a good fuck after all. I just feel so safe when he's around. Like I can be me," he tried to explain, letting his resolve restore itself before a sudden flush of heat came into his cheeks. "Besides, I've not gotten a complaint about my bedwork and you know it!"

Deborah laughed, the musical sound filling the small stone room an allure many men, and more than a few women, had been entranced by to the predator's benefit. "Mhm, you certainly are attentive. Now, why not try to speak to that instead? Idols know the big fellow has no illusions about where you want him after all."

"Right- right," Artemis agreed, tapping his cheek in thought. "Okay so, maybe like one of those songs right. The ones they sing with a bit of bounce that always get a chuckle? I don't think I could write out a whole love letter even if I could spell," he quickly added with a defensive wave of his hands.

Deborah rolled her eyes but the barest smile sparkled there. "A limerick dear, and that does seem rather your style. Well then, impress me and then we can see about getting it written down." She relaxed, settling herself back into Artemis' bed and giving him a lazy wave of her hand.

Artemis' eyes lost focus as his thoughts began to spiral outward in an attempt to form a coherent bit of prose. It took him several long quiet moments of intense concentration before his cheeks suddenly flushed again in excitement. Deborah straightened herself up a bit, expecting some spectacular but showy failure as she motioned for him to share.

Artemis cleared his throat and his expression before reciting in his best bouncing sing-song,
"There was a fine man from the far Wood,
his frame bore many a hefty and fair good.
Stole the heart of a thief,
and though their love is brief,
their shouts wake all the fair neighborhood."

Deborah blinked slowly, preparing to give Artemis some choice words when he simply continued on into a second limerick with barely a pause.

"A fellow named Dáire did come to wonder,
if he was welcome to slumber.
He's given no rest ere,
from affections and care,
given his Kerasokan lumber."

He gave a sweeping bow, doffing a non-existent cap just as he'd seen many a bard do on the tavern. For her part, Deborah flopped back against his bed and groaned. "You're still going on about his cock, dear. Perhaps try talking about any of his other features?" The way the words came out, the edge of annoyance just behind them, made it clear this was not a request. Artemis frowned himself, sitting down next to her with a grunt of frustration.

"It's a very fine bit of kit though-" he lamented quietly. Deborah smacked his arm softly and he relented. "Okay, I get it. Let me- hmm." Artemis went silent again, only sighing faintly when the Korcai's deft fingers began to tease his longer than usual hair. Eventually, he half-mumbled his way through a complete third attempt.

"My cundo, his eyes do sparkle so,
they entrance with a fine silver glow.
His warmth keeps me so fine,
I do wish him all mine,
so kiss him without end down below."

Deborah let her head fall against Artemis' shoulder, a fist with no force behind it thumping into the thief's chest. "I guess that's the best I can expect from you in poetry. At least you've managed something vaguely in the same continent as romance. Grab your calligraphy set and I'll show you the words then."