Oh, my lord. Oh, my heart.

I snapped awake as I felt an object pelt the back of my head. Not cognizant of my own horns in that between asleep and awake state, I could feel the perpetrator beside me leap back out of the way of a prick.
 
“How do you sleep like that?” he asked, composure never lost even in the haste of his jumping back.
 
“Like what? With my forehead on my arms on the table?” I outstretched her arms pretending to yawn, and gently brushed the fingers of my right hand down his chest. I felt my hand become enveloped in his and soon followed by the other one. My smile was chiseled into the ceramic that is my face now; it would’ve taken a true artisan to remove it. Placing my left hand on the table, I pivoted her body to face him. “Or did you mean to ask how I slept with these alluring, dashing horns?”
 
His lips curled up in amusement, as he stroked the top of my hand. My eyes lifted up to his, studying his intent, and I could feel the air in my nostrils as I inhaled–everything exemplified. “I just doubted your need or ability to sleep, my dearest. Shall we discuss your trip?”
 
I nearly melted in an air of heaviness. “My trip? Must we talk about something that I am truly dreading? I feel like I just got back here.”
 
The charismatic lord brought my hand to rest on his shoulder, moving his soft hands to his hips. “Do you not believe in the mission?”
 
“Of course I do,” I whispered. A silence befell us both. I began to hear all the voices in my head from prior missions and how I had always reluctantly left and he had always ushered me on. “Do you… not believe in me?”
 
He moved to rest his cheek for a moment on my hand on his shoulder. “Have I ever doubted you, my dearest?”
 
As he lifted to straighten his head, I patted his cheek twice and brought my hands together on the table, tail flicking to curl around his ankle as I sensed he was about to depart from my chair-side. We exchanged knowing smiles, and I was instantly reassured. This man would never betray me so long as I continue to perform well–and I have quite an amiable ability to perform well.
 
“You do not want company? I wanted to sit with you.”
 
“Please, have this chair. It’s practically your staple,” I said, knowing I sat at the head of the table, his usual spot.
 
“Atka Marduk, you truly pay attention to detail, and that is what I love about you,” his voice didn’t crack, or deepen, or anything… It truly sang. I stood and let him sit as I stood to the left of the chair. I allowed the crux of the tip of my tail slip up his pant leg a bit, playfully. He did sit, and before I could make a true move, I heard the door to this planning room open and Willard, a known servant, walked in. I rolled my eyes and knew the play was over too soon, yet again.
 
“Begging your pardons, my lord,” he said, “I just–”
 
“--were seeing yourself out,” Lord Dagult Neverember stated, nonchalantly. “And see to it the door is completely locked behind you; this business cannot be interrupted again.” I wet my lips, back to the door and Willard, trying to figure out the meaning of “business.”
 
“Yes, my lord,” I heard without contention, followed by a shutting and locking door.
 
“I’m surprised. You’re usually not so dismissive to those you employ,” I said, inviting explanation. His face gave me nothing. He was lost in the distance already. I spun on the ball of the foot next to the chair to face the back of it and his lordship. I placed my hands on his shoulders and squeezed slightly, massaging them to the best of my ability through his robes.
 
“How much have I told you about this mission?”
 
“I’m to retrieve someone important and you feel he might be in danger.”
 
“My son, Renaer,” his voice trailed off as if he meant to say more about him and forgot. My lips parted. I obviously knew about him. There was that gods-awful time I saw him… But I didn’t know him.
 
“He’s missing?”
 
“Run off, I think. And I’m not sure where. I think it may be prudent to start in Waterdeep. That is truly one of the only other places we have ties.”
 
I wrinkled my nose. “Waterdeep? I cannot believe you want me to go there–”
 
“You wouldn’t go to the ends of the world for the mission, or in this case Renaer? Or for me?” His voice pleaded with my hands to continue their reassurance, so I continued to massage his shoulders, and awkwardly dropped my forehead down to rest on the back of his, my hair sliding off.
 
I breathed my solemn vow, “I would do anything for you, Dagult.”
 
“Did you say something, my dearest?”
 
I snapped up, away, and into a seat next to him. I shook my head, sheepishly, and draped an elbow over the chair. “Tell me about this mission. Anything you know that I need to know about Renaer, where he might be, and what might have happened.”
 
“I will not divulge personal information about my son, besides what you need to identify him. His name you have, his age is probably close to your own, and his likeness from last I saw was a lithe, red-headed man without much flaw in fashionable taste.”
 
“Takes after his father most assuredly.”
 
“Indeed.”
 
I reached across myself and placed a hand softly on my lord’s face, attempting to guide it to see me directly. He allowed this; his permission is always foremost for me. “Lord Neverember,” I stated, letting the full name embitter my tongue. “I promise you I will find him.”
 
“Deliver him back home. I need him here.” His eyes pierced my empathic gaze and bore into my brain.
 
“I know you do,” I said and dropped my gaze to my lap. I was surprised to feel his hand take my hand and rest them both on my lap between us.
 
“I can only trust you with this. Don’t fail me.”
 
“Yes, my lord.”