Dungeons and Dalliances Ch. 170-179

"Condoms, Natalie," Instructor Robin said. "If you're so unwisely skipping my instruction time to indulge in fleeting temptations, then you're doing so with the minimum amount of forethought, I hope. As I said—you're my student, so it is my concern."

Natalie's mouth opened and closed as she floundered for a response. Beyond the mortification of this conversation in general, the words indicated that Instructor Robin knew about—well, her cock. And how? Was her skirt hiding less than she thought? Maybe that was fair, especially in a combat situation, with Instructor Robin analyzing her. But so were the rest of her classmates. Did that mean everyone knew, by this point? Maybe hoping it remained a secret had been too hopeful.

"What?" Natalie stuttered out, reflexively choosing to keep playing dumb. "Oh, no. It's not like that. Me and Camille, actually— we were just— we were—"

Instructor Robin's expression was so distinctly unimpressed that her denial quickly dried up. Her face burned even hotter.

"We aren't risking anything," she muttered, not meeting the older woman's gaze. "So, yeah. Nothing to worry about."

Though not thanks to condoms, specifically.

"That's one relief," Instructor Robin said, unperturbed at the awkward topic. "Regardless, allowing yourself to be distracted so easily is concerning, especially given how much promise you show. I've been impressed with your growth over the last few weeks, Natalie, and this time in your life is critical. It would be unfortunate if you were to let it slip away for what are, ultimately, fleeting distractions, no matter how enticing they feel in the moment."

Well, actually, Natalie's class required her to get laid. So, Instructor Robin wasn't wholly correct in giving her this lecture. If admittedly there were better times to be sneaking off with Camille than during combat instructions. At the very least, Natalie should be skipping academics—that part didn't matter nearly as much as Instructor Robin's class.

"I'll keep that in mind," Natalie said. "S-Sorry."

She felt like she might die on the spot. Of any figure of authority, Instructor Robin might be the person she least wanted to be confronted by. It was just—well, unbelievably mortifying. More than it maybe should be.

Though why Robin specifically? Natalie knew the answer, even if she shied away from it: because she was hot, an experienced delver and so someone she respected, and also, kind of intimidating. Not that Natalie was crushing on her combat instructor, but—okay, actually, yes, maybe a little bit.

Instructor Robin hummed in disapproval. "Please do. I only want what's best for you. Though, I won't belabor the point. You've heard what I have to say."

She stepped forward, abruptly settling a hand on Natalie's shoulder. Just as surprisingly, it slipped down, taking a path down her shoulders, before settling onto the small of her back. Natalie froze, going as still as a statue.

Instructor Robin leaned in and murmured, "And remember. As your primary instructor, I'm authorized to take matters into my own hands. If you prove yourself uncooperative, I'm not afraid of disciplining you. In taking a ... direct approach to solving this problem."

The woman's touch lingered, then drew away. She strode toward the exit. Before she left, she paused at the doorway. Her eyes were calm, unbothered, as strictly professional as ever. "Otherwise," she said. "Keep up the good work, Natalie."

She left.

Natalie stared at her.

What ... the hell? What had that been? An innuendo? Had she implied what Natalie thought? Except, besides the lingering touch on her lower back, Instructor Robin hadn't acted at all differently from the beginning of the conversation, or her usual self. Her tone hadn't been remotely teasing, or given any indication that her words were, well, obviously suggestive. Her expression had been her usual cool, aloof self.

But really. 'Discipline her'? Take matters into her own hands? Solve the problem personally? What was she suggesting?

Surely not that?

The notion was so absurd that Natalie nearly dismissed it as soon as it occurred. Except, maybe not? What else could it have meant? Natalie really, really didn't think Instructor Robin meant she would be assigning her after-hours cleaning duties. But what did 'personally solving' Natalie's problem—a problem which was, specifically, her being distracted with fucking her classmates—mean? What did taking it into her own hands imply? Especially combined with the uncharacteristic touch, the way she'd moved in closer and murmured into her ear?

She wouldn't be getting any answers, unfortunately. And she had other classes coming up, however much the interaction had left her brain scrambled. Natalie shuffled off into the hall. She tried, desperately, to repress the stiffening in her skirt. That would be awkward to explain, if someone saw it as she walked through the halls.

But. Instructor Robin. And Camille, too. More problems, stacking atop one another.

Or, not problems. Definitely not problems. But complications, which Natalie really, really didn't need more of.

5.15 - Talking Business

Camille and Instructor Robin weren't the only ones to unexpectedly complicate Natalie's life. Immediately after her first academic class of the day and headed for her next, Natalie found her passage through the halls blocked by a familiar face.

And not familiar in a good way.

Elida. Natalie nearly walked straight into the woman, she appeared so suddenly. She even started to apologize for almost running into her, but that bit of politeness dried up the second her brain registered the woman's features. The long, straight red hair, green eyes, and the faux-friendly, arrogant expression on her face. Any of Natalie's lingering good mood disappeared.

"Now that's a scowl if I've ever seen one," Elida said approvingly. "You must have been thinking of me, this past week. I'm flattered."

"Elida."

"Natalie," she replied, tone filled with false sweetness. "Mind if I steal a moment? We need to talk." Her eyes flicked to Jordan and Sofia. "Alone."

"About what?"

"Oh, just friendly chit-chat." She smiled, and, while ostensibly friendly, there was something about the expression—maybe the amount of teeth she bared—that genuinely made Natalie feel uneasy.

Natalie looked at Jordan and Sofia, and while both of them looked wary, neither had expressions that suggested she should ignore the woman. Natalie would love to tell Elida to fuck off on principle, but that didn't seem smart. Plus, her curiosity had been piqued. What would Elida need to talk to her about?

"Guess I'll catch up," Natalie said. Jordan, in return, gave her a significant look that could only mean 'be careful'. Natalie would know; she'd gotten that one about a million times before.

"See you in class," Jordan said. After a brief hesitation, she and Sofia kept walking, leaving Natalie and Elida alone.

Elida's calculating green eyes followed them as they went, which aggravated Natalie with surprising intensity, even if Natalie didn't see any hostility, there. She just hated the snake's attention being directed at Jordan and Sofia in any capacity. Several times more than herself.

"So," Natalie said tersely. "What do you want?"

Elida calmly faced back to Natalie. "Oh, come now, Natalie. Is that any way to speak to a classmate? Where are your manners?"

"Stop acting like we're friends and get to the point."

"Maybe not friends," Elida said musingly, "but we are colleagues. Truly, the hostility is unnecessary."

"You're kidding, right?"

Elida rolled her eyes. She folded her arms and gave Natalie a patronizing look. "Don't tell me you're still crying about that altercation in the dungeon. How long has it been? It's water under the bridge."

Natalie stared at the woman, a mix between impressed at her audacity, and, obviously, infuriated. She had intended to moderate herself in this conversation—heeding Jordan's advice—but, unsurprisingly, she failed to keep that conviction.

"Just wondering," Natalie said, "but are you trying to be a giant bitch, or does it just happen?"

The woman's eyebrows went up, though, unfortunately, she didn't seem offended: just surprised at Natalie's bluntness. She laughed, even seeming amused by it.

"Did you really just call a Parda-Halt a bitch, and to her face, no less?" Elida asked. "My, my. I mean, you're right, of course, but what a terrible idea. You wouldn't last a day in court. I suppose it's refreshing, if nothing else." She waved her hand dismissively. "No, but really, we aren't enemies, Natalie. Or, rather, my hostilities concern Elizabeth. And in extension, her team. But not you."

"I'm on her team."

Elida quirked an unimpressed eyebrow, as if annoyed that Natalie didn't understand her point. And while Natalie did, she also found it unbelievably stupid. Jordan herself had been the first to suggest that Elida wasn't necessarily their enemy, and that the whole event in the dungeon didn't involve them personally, however much it technically, literally had. But the crazy part was that Elida expected Natalie to be okay with getting caught in the crossfire. To accept she'd been collateral damage of the feud between House Beaumon and House Parda-Halt and not think twice about it.

Natalie shifted from side to side, her agitation growing. She tried to keep Jordan's advice in mind. Because however annoying this encounter was, becoming a target of Elida's would be much worse. The Parda-Halts were dangerous. And not in the stuck-up, snide, irritating way of most arrogant nobles, but genuinely dangerous.

Unfortunately, logic and keeping a cool head had never been Natalie's strongest suit. Something about the smug, patronizing expression on Elida's face really got under her skin. In a way even Sofia couldn't.

"Okay, look, bitch," Natalie said. "Maybe I'm not your enemy, but after what you did, you're mine. And you know that. You can read it on my face. So do we really need to play games and pretend otherwise?"

Natalie knew she wasn't saying anything surprising to Elida. She had no doubts those calculating green eyes were taking in far more than just how annoyed Natalie was: Elida could see the animosity there, the truth in her words. House Parda-Halt had a reputation for being clever snakes—they'd literally tried to overthrow the crown at one point—and Natalie got the impression Elida was a paragon of her house. Those scrutinizing eyes flicking across Natalie's face felt a bit like scalpel incisions. Like she was being dissected. Elida did, honestly, creep her out.

She was so damn beautiful too. Somehow that made it worse. That Natalie couldn't help but pay attention to the woman's perfect cheekbones only further aggravated her.

"Yes, yes," Elida said smoothly. "I can tell you're angry. Too much so, in my opinion, but alas—I suppose it doesn't matter what I think. That said, surely you're not irreconcilably so? To declare us enemies outright? I wouldn't be so hasty."

"Even if I ignore what you did to us," Natalie said, "if you have a problem with Liz, then you have one with me. It really is that simple."

Elida's expression shifted. Her conciliatory behavior—if it could be called that—melted away.

"Ah," Elida said shortly. "So that's how it is? You've become a Beaumon dog? Bought and paid for? For some reason, I assumed you hadn't."

"Beaumon—?" Natalie started. "I couldn't give a shit about the Beaumons." She said it maybe a bit too bluntly, considering she was speaking about the literal royal family. Even Elida blinked in surprise. "No," Natalie said. "Liz. My teammate. My friend. If you have a problem with her, then you do with me." Natalie snorted. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the concept of loyalty confuses you."

"Oh," Elida said, seeming, for a second, actually put off-foot—and like usual, ignoring Natalie's insult with total imperviousness. Was there anything Natalie could say that would get under her skin? "Well, isn't that sweet?" she eventually said. "You do realize it's an act, though?"

"What?"

"Oh, please. Dearest Elizabeth. Nobody smiles that much and means it. Nobody's that ..." Elida's lip pulled back, and she waved her hands in an exaggerated way that, oddly, made Natalie understand what she was getting at. Liz was an energetic, sociable person, to a sometimes amusing degree. "Much less a Beaumon," Elida said. "No, she's as much a schemer as any of us. You'd be a moron to think otherwise. Seriously. She's a Beaumon." Elida laughed. "Not that you understand what that means. I'm almost jealous of your ignorance."

Agitation appeared on Elida's face, coming surprisingly fast—almost out of nowhere. Her words grew hot, too.

"And even if it wasn't an act," she sneered. "It's because she's just been handed everything. Do you know what I've had to do, to get where I am? To get approval from my family? That bubbly bitch is just waltzing through life. No wonder she can smile so much."

In the wake of the outburst, Natalie just stared at Elida. The words were pretty revealing. Though in what specific ways, Natalie wasn't completely certain.

"So, what, you're jealous of her?" Natalie asked.

That finally got a reaction. Fury flashed across the woman's face. Natalie took satisfaction in it, if she also almost took a step back. But just as quickly, the anger morphed: Elida burst out laughing.

"Jealous? Now that's a theory." She shook her head, as if politely amused at the concept. Then, she brushed past all of the insanity that'd just come from her mouth, and the unhinged shifting of her emotions. "I didn't come here to trade insults, however entertaining your complete disregard for tactfulness—and, some would say, your safety—is."

"And why did you want to talk?" Natalie asked impatiently, unfazed by the not-so-veiled threat. "Can you please get to that, already?"

"Sure," Elida said. "Straight to the point." She smiled, and even if Natalie despised the woman, the expression did manage to make her heart skip a beat. Elida really was unbearably gorgeous. Though, the idea of getting into a bed with her felt vaguely the same as crawling into a nest of vipers. "You've been impressing me these past few days," Elida said. "Especially considering your team's recovery from our ... friendly intervention. I have an eye for spotting talent—call it instinct. Us Parda-Halts, we notice things before other people do." She tapped underneath her eye. "We see things," she said, with emphasis, "that others don't. With that in mind, I have an offer. I want you to join my team."

5.16 - Talking Business II

The proposition was so ridiculous it almost didn't process. Natalie stared at Elida, the words failing to make sense.

"What," Natalie said. "Is that some kind of joke?"

"Oh, don't think so lowly of yourself," Elida said. "It's not that far-fetched I'd want to take a chance on upcoming talent. Even someone like ..." Her eyes flicked up and down Natalie. "Well, you."

Natalie laughed. There was a certain art form in how fluidly Elida could find the bitchiest possible thing to say—and how to say it. She considered how to respond, then laughed a second time.

What was there to say? The answer was so obviously 'no' that it was comical to even entertain the idea.

To Natalie's delight, her amused incredulity turned out to be the best response she could give. A flicker of genuine annoyance crossed Elida's face.

"You would be wise not to dismiss the idea outright," Elida said, keeping a level tone. "Previous hostilities notwithstanding. Surely you see the merit of the offer."

So the proposal was genuine? But why? And Elida was even trying to convince her—if not in the most friendly of ways. Surely Elida wasn't that impressed at her recent performances, or their team's progress through the dungeon. They were doing well, but not that well. Not outwardly, at least.

Was something more going on?

"Don't you already have a tank?" Natalie asked. She wasn't entertaining the idea of joining, but she wanted to pry for more information.

"For now." Elida tilted her head. "What does that have to do with anything?"

So, she'd be willing to drop Otto, just like that. Natalie wondered if he even knew this conversation was taking place. She assumed not. Elida didn't seem the type to care remotely about something like camaraderie—and sticking together for the sake of loyalty. She really was a piece of work.

"Why would I even want to join you?" Natalie asked. Heeding Jordan's advice to at least some degree, she cut off the closing remark of, 'You conniving bitch?'

Elida rolled her eyes. "Why would you want to join the clearly best-performing party of our year? Hm, I wonder. I assume to have even gotten to Tenet, considering your lack of pedigree—"

"Pedigree?"

"—that you have a few ambitious bones in your body. With that in mind, you would go much further with us than that ragtag group."

Ragtag? Natalie bit her tongue. She had already gone too far with her insults; she couldn't keep slinging them. This was a Parda-Halt, and the not-subtle threat from earlier reminded Natalie of the fact.

"Yeah, no thanks," Natalie said. "Not happening. Doesn't matter what you have to offer."

"Don't be irrational. Again, I understand your misgivings, but—"

"Not interested."

Elida's lips pursed. She studied Natalie for a long moment. When she finally responded, her voice was carefully neutral. Politely inquisitive. "When you got your class, Natalie, did something strange happen with the Bestower?"

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been abruptly dumped onto her. Natalie's amusement—and annoyance—over this whole encounter disappeared all at once.

"What?" she replied dumbly, feeling cold.

"Ah," Elida said. "You really do need to learn to control that." She tapped her own cheek, indicating Natalie's expression. She shook her head disapprovingly. "You give away far too much, far too easily. In a place like this, information is power. You can't just wear everything on your face. It's ..." Her lip pulled back in a sneer. "Amateurish." She delivered the word like it was the highest insult she could offer.

"What are you talking about?" Natalie demanded. "The Bestower? What do you mean?" She took a step forward, not intending to invade Elida's space, but the action being instinctive. Elida raised her eyebrows, but didn't flinch or retreat. She looked up at Natalie with calm green eyes, barely a few inches of space between them.

"Oh, just wondering," Elida said. "Piecing together some theories of mine. Your team has been performing well. Too well. And you especially. Some would say suspiciously so."

"And what does that have to do with the Bestower?"

Elida tilted her head. "Nothing in particular. A stab in the dark, I suppose." Her expression revealed nothing, despite how blatantly the question hinted at her knowing ... something. Which infuriated Natalie. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her side. "But as to my point," Elida said. "I'm not sure you want to dismiss me so easily. Clearly this offer comes for a reason. I'm an intelligent woman, whatever unflattering things you think of me."

Natalie stood there, thoughts racing. And fuming.

"I'm not leaving my team," she finally said, tersely. "And I'm definitely not joining yours."

"You find me that unappealing?" For a moment, Elida calmly analyzed Natalie. The two of them were close enough that they were nearly touching. Suddenly, Elida's lips quirked up. "Is there, perhaps, any way I could get back into your good graces? I think ... certain apologies of mine could be quite convincing."