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senmutKissed By a Goddess: A Slight Misadventure (3,150 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Original Elf Character(s), Mielikki [Forgotten Realms], Drizzt Do'Urden, Uoundeld Aerasumé
Additional Tags: Background Relationships, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Family
Summary:
While the thing that had drawn Drizzt up toward Icewind Dale initially had been potent enough he called not for his brothers, but for his aunts, he hadn't gotten to see much of the region. It was a small risk to go into a place that was lacking in the great forests that his Lady claimed, but the lure of unexplored lands was too strong for him. He had no interest in dealing with the people, but he wanted to see the wilds!
This second trip up was in the height of their summer, and he was lazily gliding, just looking at the difference in the landscape from the earlier desperate fight against the wizard Akar Kessel and his minions in the Crystal Tower. He was still so thankful the wizard had been so small-minded, that he had not yet enslaved the humans of the region.
When he landed to investigate the plant life more closely, he did keep his senses turned outward. That was what allowed him to meet the first rush of the Uthgardt that had, for some reason, deemed him a worthy foe. He even knew when the second half set to trying to encircle him. Knowing he did not have to fight grounded opponents who merely sought violence, he cleared a wide enough space to launch himself skyward, his wings buffeting the fighters too close to him.
He got above their heads, swept down with his wings again, batting a hastily thrown spear aside…
…and a claw-laden weighted net managed to land mostly on his wings, with one of the weights hitting his spar bone in its thinnest location. The pain was maddening, and these hunters knew to swarm him swiftly when he plummeted down. He didn't have the presence of mind to call for help across the anklets before a heavy blow rendered him unconscious.
"Chief!"
Grollo's shout cut across all the forge noise, and Bruenor looked over to see his right hand in full war-kit, beckoning. That was enough for him to take off the smith's apron, gathering his helmet and ask on the way over.
"What be the fuss?" Bruenor asked, even as he walked toward his own quarters, letting Grollo brief him on the way. He trusted in the man's choices, and having come with hammer and shield alike meant that Bruenor needed his shield next.
"Asked Lespur tae roust up able-bodied fighters, as I ken ye'll want tae be dealing with the barbarians much as I am," Grollo said. "Whole hunt's worth of the brutes are dragging a netted winged-man."
"Wings be white and feathers?" Bruenor asked, just to confirm. They might not have a cleric, but they knew enough lore to understand the feather-kissed were as peace-holy as the bat-winged were to be destroyed on sight.
"Aye," Grollo said grimly.
"Make certain we've at least twenty fighters, and we march as soon as I get me shield," Bruenor told him, dismissing the other man to hurry into his battle gear. He wished the battle against the vicious big humans had gone better, years past, but it was as it was, and he was as much for stomping them as for crushing goblins.
Especially with a feather-kissed's life on the line!
Between the rough manhandling, the pain of his wings, and being summarily dropped as battle ensued, Drizzt was not even conscious when the dwarves prevailed. The ripped feathers, the blood streaked on white hair and plumage alike, made the dwarves take the time — once every barbarian was dead — to cut the netting off, but there was no cleric among them. The most they could do was rig a litter and try to be as gentle as possible in folding the wings over the drow.
That had been startling, but Bruenor said the feathers couldn't lie, and thus they did their best by the man, carrying him home with them to be tended by their aunties and uncles.
Two of their strongest dwarves were enlisted to set the broken limb, guided patiently by the elder auntie after she had coaxed a potent concoction down the throat of their patient. He'd only vaguely been aware, yet that had been enough. The medicine relaxed muscles and let the pair pull gently with auntie holding hands on either side of the break. As soon as the bone aligned, she put padded supports under it, and loosely clamped it in place with felt-covered tools, as far from the break as she could manage.
The outstretched wing had cots beneath it, keeping the wing straight and level. Her fellow elders had been cleaning the head wound and other injuries as she worked, so that by the time the snapped spar was dealt with it was just a matter of putting padded bolsters around him to keep him still when he woke. A roster of sitters was made, so that when the feather-kissed did awaken, he would have someone there to talk to him, reassure him. They didn't really try to do more than straighten the remaining feathers; he would probably need to do his preening himself after all, as a mental healing.
Drizzt felt… odd. He rarely rested with one wing outstretched, and he never pinned himself in his rest, preferring full freedom of movement. However, the pain signals were immediate when he tried to move, and he stopped, thinking.
Oh.
Someone had rescued him from his folly? Yes, that felt like something supporting the broken spar, and then everything pinning him made sense. He was on his stomach, at least, which made sense now. When he slept, he often curled partly on his front, partly on his side, and used the wings to cover. At home, he actually had a custom padded form that let him lie on his back with his wings resting out, but that was a luxury solely for home.
"Awake, are ye, Champion?"
Dwarven brogue, thicker than he was used to, but Drizzt could puzzle out the words. That made sense. Dwarves didn't have a lot to do with godly manipulations, but they paid honor to them and their agents.
If he was in goodly hands, why hadn't a cleric treated that bone? Maybe it was a small encampment of them. He finally opened his eyes and turned his head toward the speaker, a dwarf with gray shot through beard and hair alike.
"Yes, Elder," he said, managing a smile. "My gratitude for the care I have been given."
"'T'was the right thing tae do, and ye were in a bad way. Try not tae be movin' much; not a lot we can do for the head-blow ye took."
That explained the fuzziness of his thoughts.
"I will lie very still. When I can think clearly, I can request aid from my family, but I'll need to know where to direct them."
"More drow like ye?" the old dwarf asked, skeptical.
"I was raised in a human-elf family," Drizzt demurred. "It would be a wizard… and likely a cleric, knowing how over-protective my brothers get."
"I'll talk tae the chief, see if'n we need tae carry ye tae the surface for that."
"I understand that. Again, thank you."
"Cannae have those idiots offending other people's gods!" the old dwarf said firmly. "The feather-kissed are tae be helped, not harmed."
Drizzt smiled, then closed his eyes, realizing he still needed rest… and he couldn't actually manage more than that right now.
The next time he woke, it was a different dwarf, somewhat younger than the previous one, as the gray was just showing in the beard. This one was occupied with doing a wire wrap for the hilt of a knife, and didn't immediately note that Drizzt was awake. Nor did Drizzt speak right away, not wanting to interrupt the crafting.
It was peaceful, actually, to watch the careful way the wire was handled, the precision in laying each loop. When the dwarf finished, then Drizzt made a small noise, so the man looked over.
"Good… whatever time of day it is," Drizzt said, a wry smile on his lips. "I failed to introduce myself to the elder earlier, but I am Drizzt Aerasumé."
"Bruenor Battlehammer," the dwarf introduced. "Uncle said you drifted right back out after a few words. Decided I'd come with ye after his turn was up, in case ye woke soon from it. Turns out I was right." He set the knife and tools down on the side table. "Auntie said tae ask if ye need a pain medicine."
"No, but I do need a different relief," Drizzt said ruefully. "Can you help me up? I promise I will keep the wing up; it will be awkward, but I can."
Bruenor looked skeptical, but they hadn't taken injured precautions for the man, so it had to be done. Drizzt noted that Bruenor was quick to adjust how and where he supported, once he saw how Drizzt's muscles worked on holding that bolstered and clamped wing up. In short order, without shame for needing the aid, Drizzt was done with necessary things, and was sitting so that the straight wing was supported again, but he could be upright.
"Head's a little clearer," he reported cheerfully. "The elder had said he was going to ask about how I should go about reaching to my family."
"Aye, and so he did," Bruenor said. "Use yer magic, and me guards will watch for who comes, report it back down tae us. We can tuck them in the trade cavern and then see about getting ye there. Tell whoever to sight in on the Cairn."
So this was the chieftain. "Thank you, then. Should I call you chieftain, lord, or some other title?"
"Bruenor's good enough for me," the dwarf told him with a scowl. "And ye?"
"Drizzt. I try very hard not to deal with formalities outside of rare court appearances," Drizzt told him with a warm smile.
"People have tae lead; donnae mean they have tae have airs," Bruenor said, nodding and relaxing a bit.
"That is how I was raised, yes," Drizzt agreed. "I am grateful to your people. I should not have been caught so unaware, but I had no idea they used nets like that.
"My uncle will probably spend a season or two trying to help me figure out how to defend against such when I go home."
"They use them against the giant birds and some of the sea-dwelling creatures," Bruenor said. "Nasty tae turn it on one such as ye. But the ones we fought said as how ye were an affront tae the ways of the gods." Bruenor scowled deeply at that, making a rude gesture. "Ignorant idiots, always putting their own gods above others.
"Not the way of it at all."
"I have to admit, I never expected that kind of welcome from any race not allied fully to an evil deity," Drizzt said. "But… I look drow, even if I was not raised by such, good or evil."
"Wings can't lie," Bruenor agreed. "So, ye be awake now, and sitting up. This is good. I'll go see tae a meal such as Auntie will allow ye, and send someone tae keep ye company as ye eat."
"Thank you, Bruenor."
Drizzt settled himself once the chieftain had left, and focused on the sending anklet in a very narrow reach. When he left Silverymoon this time, Methri and Tyresia had been there, researching an elven spell, and had not expected to leave anytime soon.
~Methri, I need a potion or two. Snapped wing spar. In Icewind Dale, with dwarves near Kelvin's Cairn. Don't worry anyone; I am safe.~
~Little brother, I want details when I get there. And I am glad you said the last; it will be tomorrow before I can come.~ There was a pause, then Methri sent to him. ~Do you need anything else?~
~My haversack is here, so no,~ Drizzt responded, before the door opening showed him a human youth in dwarf clothes and braids, carrying a tray. As the anklets would be recharging for the next several minutes, he could give her his full attention.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello," she said, setting the tray down to see to moving a table nearer him. "Me da could've at least made things ready for me," she grumbled, but it was good-natured and gently mocking.
This girl called the chieftain 'father'? That intrigued Drizzt even more than her mere presence among dwarves.
"I'd help, but it took he and I a bit to make the balance on my wing work," he said apologetically. "I'm Drizzt."
"Catti-brie, and aye, it would've been tricky. Cannae have the weight of the splint pushing hard on the break it's protecting.
"Auntie explained as what she had tae do, given we couldnae use a cast as we might on an arm."
"It was ingenious," Drizzt praised. "I've never broken a wing bone."
Catti-brie finished setting up the table near him, and set the tray on it, then dragged a chair closer, as it was clear there were two meals on the tray. "Da said ye were going tae call for magic help for it?"
"Yes," Drizzt answered as the broth and bread made his stomach growl. "My brother will be here tomorrow. I presume he used all his spells of the day."
"Donnae know much about wizards," she admitted. "Tell me about them?"
Drizzt smiled, settling in to the food and conversation quite happily.
Methri excused himself from the night's evenfeast, going to the Sacred Glade to offer his aid there instead. As the junior clerics and acolytes prepared for the nightly delivery of food, he found both Tathana and Grevaine, pulling them away from the others and giving them a rueful look.
"I don't want to worry your people, especially the Ladyservant, but Drizzt reached out earlier. Asked me to bring him a couple of potions for a snapped wing bone." He appreciated their hissed in breaths. "He says he's safe, he's with dwarves of all people! Given that he's in Icewind Dale, that was a shock.
"But with it being his wing that is injured, I think I should ask for a cleric to accompany me in the morning."
"I'll go," Grevaine said immediately, causing Tathana to huff, and then nod.
"If you have to deal with humans, better to be one that looks more like those found closer to this region," she conceded. "I mislike that he's asking for potions while with a good people; he can accept healing from any cleric that is good or neutral."
"Maybe it's a trade caravan?" Methri posited. "That would make more sense of the location and the need."
"True," she said. "I want to hear all the details, Grevaine!"
The other cleric laughed, nodding. They all would; Drizzt was very much a child of several hearts here, sibling to others in ways that rivaled the Tall Ones' claim on him.
It was not, in fact, a trade caravan. A pair of dwarven fighters spotted the pair on their descent from Kelvin's Cairn and met them, guiding them down into a well-shaped tunnel and to what they called the 'trade cavern', implying a very permanent setting. Nor was it long after before Drizzt came in, awkwardly keeping his wing out but helpfully supported with a fascinating belt around his waist and a resting arm angled out let the unbroken portion of the spar lay against it.
With him was a young dwarf, fuzz just coming in on his face, and a mature dwarf with a helmet sporting one horn and a broken root of another.
"Hello Methri; hello Grevaine. I told him not to worry anyone," Drizzt said cheerfully. "My young helper of the day is Klim. The elder, if I may be so bold to present you," and the elder dwarf gave a snort of amusement, "is Chieftain Bruenor Battlehammer.
"My brother — he's the one with pointed ears — is properly Methrammar Aerasumé, and the cleric is Leaf Grevaine, who I have known since he was a young cleric."
"I still am," Grevaine said, amused, but pleased to see Drizzt in good humor. Because … nothing else about Drizzt looked good. Too many feathers missing, bruises mottling his face, some of his hair cut away to manage injuries — he was very glad he had come instead of Tathana, who was far more warlike in her approach to addressing wrongs.
"Lad, do ye ever do a thing seriously?" Bruenor asked, but it was a teasing tone. "Knock off the titles, and let's get yer brother healed up, aye?" he added, looking at the newcomers.
"That part's Grevaine's," Methri said, "but I would be glad to talk with you after, Chie… Bruenor. As your name is familiar."
"Fancy that," he said, as Klim was setting up a stool for Drizzt to sit on, and Grevaine was moving over. "Be glad tae talk tae someone he speaks for; been good company since he woke up."
"You are going to tell us what happened, little brother," Methri added to that.
"Yes. Need Uncle to help me work out a defense, so you can relay it and let him be thinking on it." Drizzt then smiled at Grevaine. "Didn't they do an amazing job?"
"From the feel of the break? The mottling of the skin under the support? Yes, indeed they did," Grevaine said, making certain his voice carried to the chieftain and the young dwarf. "Alright, Drizzt, I can tell you haven't tried healing any of this; your head still ringing from the damage there?"
"Yes. I didn't… couldn't really concentrate to pray for help," Drizzt admitted. "She'd have to be listening pretty hard to hear me right now, and I don't want Her to have to do that."
"Hmm, She'd be miffed that you put Her before your needs, I think, but I'm only a Leaf."
Drizzt laughed, but closed his eyes so that he didn't have to see Grevaine's efforts to mend the skull, the brain, the wings… all of it.
A long talk with Bruenor had Methri going home with a mission… and without his brother.
"We'll look after him. Even yon cleric said he needs time tae recover his stamina. He wants tae see these lands, and his offer of guidance when he come below the Spine is a good one for us all."
Grevaine would relay the misadventure to the Ladyservant. Methri would tell Kor about the net attack. But then…
… then he was going to have to see what Battlehammers had fled to other citadels, and prepare for a clan of nearly two hundred to come back to the Silver Marches, to seek and reclaim Mithral Hall.
Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Original Elf Character(s), Mielikki [Forgotten Realms], Drizzt Do'Urden, Uoundeld Aerasumé
Additional Tags: Background Relationships, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Family
Summary:
Vhaeraun knew He could not keep the strange child, but He wasn't giving him to His sister. Better to remove him from drow manipulations altogether.
Kissed by a Goddess: A Slight Misadventure
While the thing that had drawn Drizzt up toward Icewind Dale initially had been potent enough he called not for his brothers, but for his aunts, he hadn't gotten to see much of the region. It was a small risk to go into a place that was lacking in the great forests that his Lady claimed, but the lure of unexplored lands was too strong for him. He had no interest in dealing with the people, but he wanted to see the wilds!
This second trip up was in the height of their summer, and he was lazily gliding, just looking at the difference in the landscape from the earlier desperate fight against the wizard Akar Kessel and his minions in the Crystal Tower. He was still so thankful the wizard had been so small-minded, that he had not yet enslaved the humans of the region.
When he landed to investigate the plant life more closely, he did keep his senses turned outward. That was what allowed him to meet the first rush of the Uthgardt that had, for some reason, deemed him a worthy foe. He even knew when the second half set to trying to encircle him. Knowing he did not have to fight grounded opponents who merely sought violence, he cleared a wide enough space to launch himself skyward, his wings buffeting the fighters too close to him.
He got above their heads, swept down with his wings again, batting a hastily thrown spear aside…
…and a claw-laden weighted net managed to land mostly on his wings, with one of the weights hitting his spar bone in its thinnest location. The pain was maddening, and these hunters knew to swarm him swiftly when he plummeted down. He didn't have the presence of mind to call for help across the anklets before a heavy blow rendered him unconscious.
"Chief!"
Grollo's shout cut across all the forge noise, and Bruenor looked over to see his right hand in full war-kit, beckoning. That was enough for him to take off the smith's apron, gathering his helmet and ask on the way over.
"What be the fuss?" Bruenor asked, even as he walked toward his own quarters, letting Grollo brief him on the way. He trusted in the man's choices, and having come with hammer and shield alike meant that Bruenor needed his shield next.
"Asked Lespur tae roust up able-bodied fighters, as I ken ye'll want tae be dealing with the barbarians much as I am," Grollo said. "Whole hunt's worth of the brutes are dragging a netted winged-man."
"Wings be white and feathers?" Bruenor asked, just to confirm. They might not have a cleric, but they knew enough lore to understand the feather-kissed were as peace-holy as the bat-winged were to be destroyed on sight.
"Aye," Grollo said grimly.
"Make certain we've at least twenty fighters, and we march as soon as I get me shield," Bruenor told him, dismissing the other man to hurry into his battle gear. He wished the battle against the vicious big humans had gone better, years past, but it was as it was, and he was as much for stomping them as for crushing goblins.
Especially with a feather-kissed's life on the line!
Between the rough manhandling, the pain of his wings, and being summarily dropped as battle ensued, Drizzt was not even conscious when the dwarves prevailed. The ripped feathers, the blood streaked on white hair and plumage alike, made the dwarves take the time — once every barbarian was dead — to cut the netting off, but there was no cleric among them. The most they could do was rig a litter and try to be as gentle as possible in folding the wings over the drow.
That had been startling, but Bruenor said the feathers couldn't lie, and thus they did their best by the man, carrying him home with them to be tended by their aunties and uncles.
Two of their strongest dwarves were enlisted to set the broken limb, guided patiently by the elder auntie after she had coaxed a potent concoction down the throat of their patient. He'd only vaguely been aware, yet that had been enough. The medicine relaxed muscles and let the pair pull gently with auntie holding hands on either side of the break. As soon as the bone aligned, she put padded supports under it, and loosely clamped it in place with felt-covered tools, as far from the break as she could manage.
The outstretched wing had cots beneath it, keeping the wing straight and level. Her fellow elders had been cleaning the head wound and other injuries as she worked, so that by the time the snapped spar was dealt with it was just a matter of putting padded bolsters around him to keep him still when he woke. A roster of sitters was made, so that when the feather-kissed did awaken, he would have someone there to talk to him, reassure him. They didn't really try to do more than straighten the remaining feathers; he would probably need to do his preening himself after all, as a mental healing.
Drizzt felt… odd. He rarely rested with one wing outstretched, and he never pinned himself in his rest, preferring full freedom of movement. However, the pain signals were immediate when he tried to move, and he stopped, thinking.
Oh.
Someone had rescued him from his folly? Yes, that felt like something supporting the broken spar, and then everything pinning him made sense. He was on his stomach, at least, which made sense now. When he slept, he often curled partly on his front, partly on his side, and used the wings to cover. At home, he actually had a custom padded form that let him lie on his back with his wings resting out, but that was a luxury solely for home.
"Awake, are ye, Champion?"
Dwarven brogue, thicker than he was used to, but Drizzt could puzzle out the words. That made sense. Dwarves didn't have a lot to do with godly manipulations, but they paid honor to them and their agents.
If he was in goodly hands, why hadn't a cleric treated that bone? Maybe it was a small encampment of them. He finally opened his eyes and turned his head toward the speaker, a dwarf with gray shot through beard and hair alike.
"Yes, Elder," he said, managing a smile. "My gratitude for the care I have been given."
"'T'was the right thing tae do, and ye were in a bad way. Try not tae be movin' much; not a lot we can do for the head-blow ye took."
That explained the fuzziness of his thoughts.
"I will lie very still. When I can think clearly, I can request aid from my family, but I'll need to know where to direct them."
"More drow like ye?" the old dwarf asked, skeptical.
"I was raised in a human-elf family," Drizzt demurred. "It would be a wizard… and likely a cleric, knowing how over-protective my brothers get."
"I'll talk tae the chief, see if'n we need tae carry ye tae the surface for that."
"I understand that. Again, thank you."
"Cannae have those idiots offending other people's gods!" the old dwarf said firmly. "The feather-kissed are tae be helped, not harmed."
Drizzt smiled, then closed his eyes, realizing he still needed rest… and he couldn't actually manage more than that right now.
The next time he woke, it was a different dwarf, somewhat younger than the previous one, as the gray was just showing in the beard. This one was occupied with doing a wire wrap for the hilt of a knife, and didn't immediately note that Drizzt was awake. Nor did Drizzt speak right away, not wanting to interrupt the crafting.
It was peaceful, actually, to watch the careful way the wire was handled, the precision in laying each loop. When the dwarf finished, then Drizzt made a small noise, so the man looked over.
"Good… whatever time of day it is," Drizzt said, a wry smile on his lips. "I failed to introduce myself to the elder earlier, but I am Drizzt Aerasumé."
"Bruenor Battlehammer," the dwarf introduced. "Uncle said you drifted right back out after a few words. Decided I'd come with ye after his turn was up, in case ye woke soon from it. Turns out I was right." He set the knife and tools down on the side table. "Auntie said tae ask if ye need a pain medicine."
"No, but I do need a different relief," Drizzt said ruefully. "Can you help me up? I promise I will keep the wing up; it will be awkward, but I can."
Bruenor looked skeptical, but they hadn't taken injured precautions for the man, so it had to be done. Drizzt noted that Bruenor was quick to adjust how and where he supported, once he saw how Drizzt's muscles worked on holding that bolstered and clamped wing up. In short order, without shame for needing the aid, Drizzt was done with necessary things, and was sitting so that the straight wing was supported again, but he could be upright.
"Head's a little clearer," he reported cheerfully. "The elder had said he was going to ask about how I should go about reaching to my family."
"Aye, and so he did," Bruenor said. "Use yer magic, and me guards will watch for who comes, report it back down tae us. We can tuck them in the trade cavern and then see about getting ye there. Tell whoever to sight in on the Cairn."
So this was the chieftain. "Thank you, then. Should I call you chieftain, lord, or some other title?"
"Bruenor's good enough for me," the dwarf told him with a scowl. "And ye?"
"Drizzt. I try very hard not to deal with formalities outside of rare court appearances," Drizzt told him with a warm smile.
"People have tae lead; donnae mean they have tae have airs," Bruenor said, nodding and relaxing a bit.
"That is how I was raised, yes," Drizzt agreed. "I am grateful to your people. I should not have been caught so unaware, but I had no idea they used nets like that.
"My uncle will probably spend a season or two trying to help me figure out how to defend against such when I go home."
"They use them against the giant birds and some of the sea-dwelling creatures," Bruenor said. "Nasty tae turn it on one such as ye. But the ones we fought said as how ye were an affront tae the ways of the gods." Bruenor scowled deeply at that, making a rude gesture. "Ignorant idiots, always putting their own gods above others.
"Not the way of it at all."
"I have to admit, I never expected that kind of welcome from any race not allied fully to an evil deity," Drizzt said. "But… I look drow, even if I was not raised by such, good or evil."
"Wings can't lie," Bruenor agreed. "So, ye be awake now, and sitting up. This is good. I'll go see tae a meal such as Auntie will allow ye, and send someone tae keep ye company as ye eat."
"Thank you, Bruenor."
Drizzt settled himself once the chieftain had left, and focused on the sending anklet in a very narrow reach. When he left Silverymoon this time, Methri and Tyresia had been there, researching an elven spell, and had not expected to leave anytime soon.
~Methri, I need a potion or two. Snapped wing spar. In Icewind Dale, with dwarves near Kelvin's Cairn. Don't worry anyone; I am safe.~
~Little brother, I want details when I get there. And I am glad you said the last; it will be tomorrow before I can come.~ There was a pause, then Methri sent to him. ~Do you need anything else?~
~My haversack is here, so no,~ Drizzt responded, before the door opening showed him a human youth in dwarf clothes and braids, carrying a tray. As the anklets would be recharging for the next several minutes, he could give her his full attention.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello," she said, setting the tray down to see to moving a table nearer him. "Me da could've at least made things ready for me," she grumbled, but it was good-natured and gently mocking.
This girl called the chieftain 'father'? That intrigued Drizzt even more than her mere presence among dwarves.
"I'd help, but it took he and I a bit to make the balance on my wing work," he said apologetically. "I'm Drizzt."
"Catti-brie, and aye, it would've been tricky. Cannae have the weight of the splint pushing hard on the break it's protecting.
"Auntie explained as what she had tae do, given we couldnae use a cast as we might on an arm."
"It was ingenious," Drizzt praised. "I've never broken a wing bone."
Catti-brie finished setting up the table near him, and set the tray on it, then dragged a chair closer, as it was clear there were two meals on the tray. "Da said ye were going tae call for magic help for it?"
"Yes," Drizzt answered as the broth and bread made his stomach growl. "My brother will be here tomorrow. I presume he used all his spells of the day."
"Donnae know much about wizards," she admitted. "Tell me about them?"
Drizzt smiled, settling in to the food and conversation quite happily.
Methri excused himself from the night's evenfeast, going to the Sacred Glade to offer his aid there instead. As the junior clerics and acolytes prepared for the nightly delivery of food, he found both Tathana and Grevaine, pulling them away from the others and giving them a rueful look.
"I don't want to worry your people, especially the Ladyservant, but Drizzt reached out earlier. Asked me to bring him a couple of potions for a snapped wing bone." He appreciated their hissed in breaths. "He says he's safe, he's with dwarves of all people! Given that he's in Icewind Dale, that was a shock.
"But with it being his wing that is injured, I think I should ask for a cleric to accompany me in the morning."
"I'll go," Grevaine said immediately, causing Tathana to huff, and then nod.
"If you have to deal with humans, better to be one that looks more like those found closer to this region," she conceded. "I mislike that he's asking for potions while with a good people; he can accept healing from any cleric that is good or neutral."
"Maybe it's a trade caravan?" Methri posited. "That would make more sense of the location and the need."
"True," she said. "I want to hear all the details, Grevaine!"
The other cleric laughed, nodding. They all would; Drizzt was very much a child of several hearts here, sibling to others in ways that rivaled the Tall Ones' claim on him.
It was not, in fact, a trade caravan. A pair of dwarven fighters spotted the pair on their descent from Kelvin's Cairn and met them, guiding them down into a well-shaped tunnel and to what they called the 'trade cavern', implying a very permanent setting. Nor was it long after before Drizzt came in, awkwardly keeping his wing out but helpfully supported with a fascinating belt around his waist and a resting arm angled out let the unbroken portion of the spar lay against it.
With him was a young dwarf, fuzz just coming in on his face, and a mature dwarf with a helmet sporting one horn and a broken root of another.
"Hello Methri; hello Grevaine. I told him not to worry anyone," Drizzt said cheerfully. "My young helper of the day is Klim. The elder, if I may be so bold to present you," and the elder dwarf gave a snort of amusement, "is Chieftain Bruenor Battlehammer.
"My brother — he's the one with pointed ears — is properly Methrammar Aerasumé, and the cleric is Leaf Grevaine, who I have known since he was a young cleric."
"I still am," Grevaine said, amused, but pleased to see Drizzt in good humor. Because … nothing else about Drizzt looked good. Too many feathers missing, bruises mottling his face, some of his hair cut away to manage injuries — he was very glad he had come instead of Tathana, who was far more warlike in her approach to addressing wrongs.
"Lad, do ye ever do a thing seriously?" Bruenor asked, but it was a teasing tone. "Knock off the titles, and let's get yer brother healed up, aye?" he added, looking at the newcomers.
"That part's Grevaine's," Methri said, "but I would be glad to talk with you after, Chie… Bruenor. As your name is familiar."
"Fancy that," he said, as Klim was setting up a stool for Drizzt to sit on, and Grevaine was moving over. "Be glad tae talk tae someone he speaks for; been good company since he woke up."
"You are going to tell us what happened, little brother," Methri added to that.
"Yes. Need Uncle to help me work out a defense, so you can relay it and let him be thinking on it." Drizzt then smiled at Grevaine. "Didn't they do an amazing job?"
"From the feel of the break? The mottling of the skin under the support? Yes, indeed they did," Grevaine said, making certain his voice carried to the chieftain and the young dwarf. "Alright, Drizzt, I can tell you haven't tried healing any of this; your head still ringing from the damage there?"
"Yes. I didn't… couldn't really concentrate to pray for help," Drizzt admitted. "She'd have to be listening pretty hard to hear me right now, and I don't want Her to have to do that."
"Hmm, She'd be miffed that you put Her before your needs, I think, but I'm only a Leaf."
Drizzt laughed, but closed his eyes so that he didn't have to see Grevaine's efforts to mend the skull, the brain, the wings… all of it.
A long talk with Bruenor had Methri going home with a mission… and without his brother.
"We'll look after him. Even yon cleric said he needs time tae recover his stamina. He wants tae see these lands, and his offer of guidance when he come below the Spine is a good one for us all."
Grevaine would relay the misadventure to the Ladyservant. Methri would tell Kor about the net attack. But then…
… then he was going to have to see what Battlehammers had fled to other citadels, and prepare for a clan of nearly two hundred to come back to the Silver Marches, to seek and reclaim Mithral Hall.
