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essythewolf · 3 years

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Scorpion’s Sting - Enderal Secret Santa

Aha! My Secret Santa gift was to you @jhara-ivez :D!!

The prompt was: “ I'd love something with my boy Diego. Possible ship would be with Dijaam, but it ended with tragedy. He's a cinnamon roll.”

Indeed he is and I hope I was able to capture this moment. Happy Winterfest and Happy Holidays!! I hope you like it!

Diego considered this moment with the utmost importance. Nothing would ever compare to it. Not his family’s death. Not Ostian’s unforgiving oppression. Not the headsman’s demise.

She was still warm in his arms. Black hair unraveling from the updo she kept it in.

“Do you do all your business meetings in a bathhouse?” He stood there, utterly entranced as Dijaam Onêlys lounged within the large basin of water. The steam barely hid her assets.

He never expected the contact to be a woman. The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Copper skin sheened from the water and her black hair held high to keep from getting wet. Her crimson lips curled up at the sight of his gaping face.

Dijaam chuckled at him, batting her long lashes, “Depends on the business. Are you getting in or not?”

He caressed her cheek, those long lashes no longer moving. Diego leaned back against a log, her body in his lap as he held her like he would a sleeping babe. The area around him was quiet with a river inlet to his right and the ocean stretching before him. A statue of jade, the Green Scarabeaus, lay on its side in the sand. An afterthought in the aftermath.

A rattling noise stirred him from his stupor, and he glared at the perpetrator.

“I don’t have anything against him, really. It’s just ...” Dijaam eyed the skeleton then shook her head, “so what’s his… or her… name?”

“Dood.”

She raised a sculpted brow at him, “Dood? Really?”

Diego cocked his head, ”... Yeees?” He smiled. Though the other denizens in the Undercity don’t seem to take as kindly and give them a wide berth.

“You, uh, trust it?”

“More or less. He protects me at least, even if he doesn’t like to help me clean.”

That didn’t seem to soothe her in the least, “I don’t think he was, ahem, summoned to be a maid.” The notion was absurd enough to at least make her smirk.

“He was summoned to help. Sometimes he is just a poor busybody.” Diego adjusted the noble’s hat on Dood’s skeletal head, making the warhammer wielding undead that more outlandish.

She still looked skeptical but regarded Dood with a tight smile, “Alright. I’ll leave you two to it then to get that evidence. Alright? I trust you both. And … thank you.”

Dood stared back at Diego with black, empty sockets. In his current form, did he understand what he did? The gravity of his action in striking her down? The emptiness in his skull truly empty or always with intent? The one time he had hoped for his friend to follow command and stop attacking...Despite the fact the Dijaam acted with the intent to kill him. The poison from her blade was gone. But he still felt the cuts. The weakness in his limbs. Or was that simply from holding her this long? Dood simply did what he was apparently meant to do. You cannot blame the headsman for simply swinging his axe. Just the ones who gave the order. But when that order is not followed…? He pulled her close, buried his nose against her hair.

Then...was it really his fault?

“So what do you think of this fine Kiléan dancing?”

Diego had no idea what to think. The dancer stretched and kicked and twirled to upbeat music. Arms swayed gracefully in arcs. He thought she was mimicking some sort of swan taking flight. A flailing swan taking flight.

“It’s uh...interesting?” though he preferred to look at the woman standing beside him.

“That could mean anything.” She grinned at him and then motioned for him to follow. They shared a drink at the bar. He stared at her crimson lips as she passed on her rags to riches story. A story like his own minus the religious zealots and rolling heads. Dijaam reached over and touched his arm when they finished, “It was a pleasure, Protector,” purred and drawn out that only seemed to make his chest flutter. “Until next time.”

A cold wind picked up, the fire at their campsite long extinguished. No more talking. No more ‘until next times’ or jaunts through the Ark crypt. No more her.

“Dijaam? You’ve been staring at that thing for over an hour. What do we do now?”

She stared at the Scarabeaus, the firelight cast green reflections against her skin. Entranced by the sculpture of jade. Dood remained in the shadows, the clatter of his bones occasionally breaking the silence as he wandered the perimeter.

“Dijaam?”

“... what?”

“Black market? Would the Coalition be willing to-”

“We are not selling it to those scum,” she hissed, then reigned herself in and cleared her throat. “It...it wouldn’t be a good idea. After what they did.”

Diego nodded in understanding, “Yes yes...you’re right. My apologies.”

She shook her head, “No … no you are trying to help, but,” she looked to the sky, the moon above full. He looked with her. “I do know many people in Kilé that I can try and sell it to. Then we split it, fifty-fifty, like we agreed. I can send you the payment after I sell it.” She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, “I could catch a boat at that miner town… Duneville, right? Then take the next boat to Kilé.”

Diego fidgeted in his spot and moved closer to her, “Getting the money here would take awhile...“ His mind reeled at the implications. He may never see her again. She could die at sea. She could leave but never contact him again. The Coalition could kill her as soon as she walked through their doors. There could be a pirate attack. Payment be damned; it wasn’t truly worth it.

“We could...find a seller here?” The question tumbled out of his mouth. There was a sudden shift in the air. Something sharp that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“What?”

“I know a lot of fences in the Undercity. Quick and easy! What if something happens in the boat?” His own experience on The Morning Dew reared its ugly head at the thought. “It wouldn’t be a good idea …”

“You worried that I won’t share?” She lashed and he recoiled, feeling wounded.

“No, no! Just...something could happen to you if others found out you had the Scarabeaus,” he pointed at the statue of jade, looking unassuming and glittery in the light.

Dijaam inhaled sharply through her nose, “I appreciate your chivalry, but I think I can manage after all of this.”

Diego shimmied closer to her, reached and slowly took her face in his hands. She let him. Let him gaze into her beautiful dark eyes and dark lashes. He swallowed, “I want to help you. What do I need to do?”

Her gaze softened and she exhaled shakily. “Saaras’Joodule ... you’ve done more than enough.”

He shrugged and grinned, “For you? Worth it.”

His nose caught whiffs of jasmine and sea water. Her arms wrapped around him. He returned it immediately, pulled her in close and squeezed. It would all work out. It would--

Her lips brushed his ear and sent his heart racing, “Fine...I’m sorry.”

He held her close, rigor mortis set in, but he kept her in his lap. Tears fell onto her cheek. The price paid in blood too high for any coin to match and the scarabaeus an ugly reminder.

#enderalsecretsanta #enderal #diego #dijaam onêlys #essywrites

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