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Kor meets Vierna
Jan. 21st, 2024 11:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
senmutRescued by Drow (1029 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Original Elf Character(s)
Additional Tags: Ensemble Cast, Slice of Life
Summary:
When Elué had asked for help to scout the region, Korvallen had volunteered to keep Sharr from offering. He had evaluated everyone else and taken on the farthest route, trusting his experience. Sharr had taken the hint and thrown his effort toward helping the city rebuild. He was the best person Elué could have at her side to rally the elves, and Korvallen knew it.
Now, facing down two worgs and their orc raiders, Kor wondered if this would be how it ended, so far from his heart-brother. He would not stop fighting, giving himself over to the full skill he had built for himself over the centuries. Injuries no longer mattered; just the fight, just killing as many of his opponents as he could.
He didn't register the bird calls, only briefly noticed one orc going down to a well-shot arrow before a blow he could neither dodge nor parry ended his view of it all.
Korvallen hadn't expected to open his eyes. He certainly didn't expect to find every injury bandaged, and the worst of them already half-healed. He sat up slowly, and winced; half-healed was certainly correct.
"You need to lie back down, elf," a woman's voice called, and he turned his head to see a drow sitting there. "And if you're going to have a fit because you're in drow hands, let me say that you would have died down there if not for our hunters."
White-hot anger gave way to darkest cold in Korvallen's guts.
"Am I a prisoner?"
"No. But I don't give you more than ten steps before you collapse and blood fills your insides. Our hunters had to be healed too, and we need time to pray before any greater healing can happen for you."
Korvallen went to test that theory, felt a sharper twinge, and laid back.
Elué would check on him, in time. He just needed to bide his time.
"I'd offer you water, but honestly, all of your moving around just now possibly undid some of our work. Can't give you drink if your insides are bleeding again. So wait for the next cleric to be available, and then we'll see to that part."
That… went with how Charic handled things. He closed his eyes and laid back, wondering which Named Ones he had pissed off to put him in the keeping of drow!
Kor woke back up as the drow watching him traded out with a different one. Her robes were more ornate, with the swords woven into the design being more prominent than the moons.
"You are in a safe place, elf," the new one said. "As soon as we are certain you will not die because we missed something, one of our wizards will teleport you away. You are not a prisoner, but at the same time, you may not see where we are. I have to make certain my people are safe, after all."
That was not the speech he had expected at all, wasn't certain he trusted it, but he gave a nod.
"Now, let me see what we missed in our rush to get everyone treated." She came to sit beside the bed, placing one cool hand on his brow and other over his chest. As the delving continued, she moved them, until he felt warmth pool outward from his gut and the pain eased entirely.
It had felt almost just like when Charic managed his injuries.
"Alright. I would ask that you rest out the rest of the day," she said. "And, to make it easier on yourself, please don't wander out of here. We are a mixed society, but I don't think any of our people would meet your approval."
Korvallen snorted, even as she got up and moved a tray near with water and a crock of soup.
"Do I get to know your name?" he asked.
"Depends on if you are willing to share yours," the woman said. "There being all sorts of strange magics around names according to some of the surface tales we hear."
"That would be fey, not faerie, lore," Korvallen said, but then he noted she looked amused.
He was being teased by a damned drow, and somehow that made it all the more surreal?
"Korvallen Senahye."
Her eyes widened. "Oh. Well, I suppose I need to arrange your repatriation to your people sooner."
"Your name?"
"Call me First Sister," she said instead. "It is who I am in service to my people." She then left him, after moving a relief bucket nearby as well.
Korvallen's gear had been returned to him, with everything mended already, implying magical aid. He'd have one of the boys inspect it for traps if Elué was busy.
He had finished the food, and decided he would prefer being in his full garb and kit even if he wasn't a prisoner. No sooner than he had fastened the last buckle than the door opened —
— and Elué's daughter came in.
"Hello, Uncle."
What in the Named Ones was this?
"Mena."
"I don't know how or why you wandered far enough to brush my friend's territory, but I'm glad they could save you," Mena said cheerfully.
He could only look at her, then he recalled the tale of the sword-cleric that had been present to help Elué's campaign.
"Strange friends. Can you take me back to your Papa?"
"Of course!"
Sharr looked his heart-brother over critically. "Why is it whenever you park me somewhere safe, you go and get hurt?"
"It's only happened one other time!"
Elué laughed brightly. "He has a point; you are rarely far from his side, and yet. Twice is a trend."
Kor huffed out at her.
"Mena did ask that you keep your misadventure's details as much a secret as you can," Elué said. "The world is not ready for good drow living openly, and some would go to a lot of effort to wipe them out."
Kor flinched, knowing he would have joined such an effort. And yet… they had succored him, had allied to Elué in her time of need, and Mena counted them as close to her heart.
"I'll never breathe a word."
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Original Elf Character(s)
Additional Tags: Ensemble Cast, Slice of Life
Summary:
Kor has a misadventure and meets strange drow.
SiS Kor
When Elué had asked for help to scout the region, Korvallen had volunteered to keep Sharr from offering. He had evaluated everyone else and taken on the farthest route, trusting his experience. Sharr had taken the hint and thrown his effort toward helping the city rebuild. He was the best person Elué could have at her side to rally the elves, and Korvallen knew it.
Now, facing down two worgs and their orc raiders, Kor wondered if this would be how it ended, so far from his heart-brother. He would not stop fighting, giving himself over to the full skill he had built for himself over the centuries. Injuries no longer mattered; just the fight, just killing as many of his opponents as he could.
He didn't register the bird calls, only briefly noticed one orc going down to a well-shot arrow before a blow he could neither dodge nor parry ended his view of it all.
Korvallen hadn't expected to open his eyes. He certainly didn't expect to find every injury bandaged, and the worst of them already half-healed. He sat up slowly, and winced; half-healed was certainly correct.
"You need to lie back down, elf," a woman's voice called, and he turned his head to see a drow sitting there. "And if you're going to have a fit because you're in drow hands, let me say that you would have died down there if not for our hunters."
White-hot anger gave way to darkest cold in Korvallen's guts.
"Am I a prisoner?"
"No. But I don't give you more than ten steps before you collapse and blood fills your insides. Our hunters had to be healed too, and we need time to pray before any greater healing can happen for you."
Korvallen went to test that theory, felt a sharper twinge, and laid back.
Elué would check on him, in time. He just needed to bide his time.
"I'd offer you water, but honestly, all of your moving around just now possibly undid some of our work. Can't give you drink if your insides are bleeding again. So wait for the next cleric to be available, and then we'll see to that part."
That… went with how Charic handled things. He closed his eyes and laid back, wondering which Named Ones he had pissed off to put him in the keeping of drow!
Kor woke back up as the drow watching him traded out with a different one. Her robes were more ornate, with the swords woven into the design being more prominent than the moons.
"You are in a safe place, elf," the new one said. "As soon as we are certain you will not die because we missed something, one of our wizards will teleport you away. You are not a prisoner, but at the same time, you may not see where we are. I have to make certain my people are safe, after all."
That was not the speech he had expected at all, wasn't certain he trusted it, but he gave a nod.
"Now, let me see what we missed in our rush to get everyone treated." She came to sit beside the bed, placing one cool hand on his brow and other over his chest. As the delving continued, she moved them, until he felt warmth pool outward from his gut and the pain eased entirely.
It had felt almost just like when Charic managed his injuries.
"Alright. I would ask that you rest out the rest of the day," she said. "And, to make it easier on yourself, please don't wander out of here. We are a mixed society, but I don't think any of our people would meet your approval."
Korvallen snorted, even as she got up and moved a tray near with water and a crock of soup.
"Do I get to know your name?" he asked.
"Depends on if you are willing to share yours," the woman said. "There being all sorts of strange magics around names according to some of the surface tales we hear."
"That would be fey, not faerie, lore," Korvallen said, but then he noted she looked amused.
He was being teased by a damned drow, and somehow that made it all the more surreal?
"Korvallen Senahye."
Her eyes widened. "Oh. Well, I suppose I need to arrange your repatriation to your people sooner."
"Your name?"
"Call me First Sister," she said instead. "It is who I am in service to my people." She then left him, after moving a relief bucket nearby as well.
Korvallen's gear had been returned to him, with everything mended already, implying magical aid. He'd have one of the boys inspect it for traps if Elué was busy.
He had finished the food, and decided he would prefer being in his full garb and kit even if he wasn't a prisoner. No sooner than he had fastened the last buckle than the door opened —
— and Elué's daughter came in.
"Hello, Uncle."
What in the Named Ones was this?
"Mena."
"I don't know how or why you wandered far enough to brush my friend's territory, but I'm glad they could save you," Mena said cheerfully.
He could only look at her, then he recalled the tale of the sword-cleric that had been present to help Elué's campaign.
"Strange friends. Can you take me back to your Papa?"
"Of course!"
Sharr looked his heart-brother over critically. "Why is it whenever you park me somewhere safe, you go and get hurt?"
"It's only happened one other time!"
Elué laughed brightly. "He has a point; you are rarely far from his side, and yet. Twice is a trend."
Kor huffed out at her.
"Mena did ask that you keep your misadventure's details as much a secret as you can," Elué said. "The world is not ready for good drow living openly, and some would go to a lot of effort to wipe them out."
Kor flinched, knowing he would have joined such an effort. And yet… they had succored him, had allied to Elué in her time of need, and Mena counted them as close to her heart.
"I'll never breathe a word."
